gloves.
one month A young man sits at his desk, staring at a blank sheet of paper. The attic is dark and stuffy, with only a dim lamp and moonlight providing any sort of light. The young man sighs and pulls himself closer to the desk, away from the rays of moonlight.
Suddenly, a red patent-leather stiletto flies through the open window and lands on the floor with a thud.
Most people would have reacted in surprise, but for Lee Byunghun it was just a part of his every day life. He eases himself out of his chair and casually picks up the stiletto. He frowns, his free hand twitching. It's late and he really doesn't want to do this, but he sighs and heads downstairs anyways. The stairs creak and Byunghun is pretty sure his body creaks along with it.
As he heads over to the couch, a shiver runs down his spine and the stiletto, still clutched in his hand, grows cold to the touch.
Set on the coffee table is what seems to be a simple wooden box, but Byunghun knows better. He undoes a latch on the top and opens it up. "Hello, hello," he mutters, his voice hardly even a whisper, as he pulls a mini handheld radio from the box. He turns it on, presses another button, and places it on the table as the radio runs through every possible channel at such a fast pace no words can be made out.
"I'm looking for someone who has recently died," he announces to the empty apartment. "Tall, lanky, and killed by a very angry mafia daughter." Byunghun runs a finger along the glossy side of the shoe, his eyes fluttering closed. "Ahn...Daniel? Is that your name?" The shoe is still cold, and as Byunghun's finger grazes over the bottom of the heel, he swears that for a brief moment he felt blood staining his thumb. "Ahn Daniel, are you here? You need to let me know."
"I'm here!"
The voice is scratchy and static-ridden, sounding far away and yet very close at the same time. Slowly, Byunghun opens his eyes. Byunghun knows that voice all too well.
"Changhyun, I can't play with you right now. This is a business call only, understand?"
Whatever Changhyun's response is, it's drowned out by the sudden influx of other voices. They come in a flood, shouting and begging and hissing and threatening, and Byunghun has half a mind to turn off the radio and end it here, but he knows whoever this Ahn Daniel is, he needs his help.
"Once again, I'm looking for an Ahn Daniel, and only an Ahn Daniel."
The voices begin to die out until only one remains.
"Me! Ahn Daniel!" the remaining voice cries.
***
His breath comes out in visible, steady puffs as he speeds down the sidewalk. "You're so lucky I left my phone on," he says, and the person on the other line of the call laughs. "Don't ing laugh at me! It's three in the morning and I'm racing down a street while freezing my off!"
"Maybe you'd be warmer if you ran faster," the other person suggests. "No hands in your pockets, though. Remember what happened to that one singer? Shoulder dislocated and a fracture to his face. Wouldn't want to mess up your nose, would you, Chanhee?"
"For the last time, I haven't gotten my nose done!" Chanhee shouts, and then hangs up without another word. He slips his phone into his pocket and then breaks out into a sprint.
Lee Chanhee sometimes questioned his choice of profession. Becoming a criminal investigator meant taking an easy, albeit cheap way of life, considering crime in his city didn't usually go much farther than robbery. Because of this, he was far too used to getting full nights sleep and never being woken up at three in the morning because of a murder.
***
Chanhee slows his motorbike to a stop as he takes in his surroundings. He was told to come to the entrance of a nearby forest, which made zero sense to him at first, but now being there, he understood completely. An old car was parked right in front of the entrance, the trunk left open and the stench of decomposition and bodily fluids wafting from it. Three crime scene investigators had already begun marking evidence, and off to the side stood two others, watching over them.
Before Chanhee could even say anything, one of the people standing off to the side suddenly turns, looking directly at him. He says something to the person standing next to him, who turns around as well.
"Chanhee-yah!" shouts the taller of the two. He waves Chanhee over. "You weren't speeding, were you?" he asks, a cheeky grin spreading over his features.
"Of course not, Minsoo. I'm not stupid," Chanhee huffs, barely dodging the hand that almost claps him on the back. The other person, someone Chanhee vaguely remembers seeing at one point, remains completely silent; he watches Chanhee with narrowed eyes as if he's concentrating hard.
Minsoo's wolf-like grin doesn't even fade a bit as he gestures towards the silent person. "This is Byunghun, your partner for this investigation. I'm sure you've heard of him before."
"Byunghun…? Wait, you don’t mean—"
"Your name is Lee Chanhee," Byunghun murmurs. His eyes, blank and empty, drag over Chanhee in a way that has the other feeling uncomfortable and somewhat violated. "You share an apartment with a fellow worker because your pay isn’t as high as you hoped it would be, you graduated top of your class because of your no-nonsense attitude, and you were actually excited to work this case until just now."
Chanhee splutters, trying to form his thoughts into coherent words.
"Ain’t he just a charmer?" Minsoo drawls, draping an arm around Byunghun’s shoulder and giving him a shake.
Realization suddenly dawns on Chanhee’s face, and he takes a step back as if he was shocked. “No! No, no way! You know how I feel about stuff like this, Minsoo! I refuse to work with him!”
"The pay for this case will be double three of your previous cases combined, and more if we solve it within the month," Byunghun says. His eyes never leave Chanhee, not even as he plucks Minsoo's arm off of his shoulder and takes a step forward. "I'm sure you can handle me for a month."
"A month..." Chanhee was about to protest (after all, a month seemed far too long), but then he realized just what exactly they were dealing with here. A murder. It'd been a long time since Chanhee had to work a murder case; it took almost three months to get close to solving it due to how inexperienced some of the people working on it had been.
Chanhee finally sighs in resignation. "Fine," he grumbles, turning and starting to walk towards the car. "Let's get this over with."
Byunghun follows him at a much slower pace, his feet dragging in the dirt. To Chanhee, he seemed bored, which frustrated him just as much as his claim of being 'psychic'. It wouldn't have been hard to get that information Byunghun had said out of Minsoo, who was a complete blabbermouth despite his job.
They stop at the trunk of the car. Another person is standing there, and he immediately seems to brighten up when the two investigators arrive.
"It's seriously nasty, isn't it?" the person says, although he doesn't sound particularly disgusted at all. He holds up a flashlight, shining light down upon the lifeless body squashed into the trunk.
Chanhee rolls his eyes, leaning in for a closer look. "I've seen worse," he says. "Where are the—" There's a snap as a glove is rolled onto his hand. Chanhee curses, hitting his head on the trunk in surprise. "Jonghyun! Why the hell did you do that?"
Jonghyun points to the flashlight in his hand. "Wasn't me," he says.
A vein could've popped right out of Chanhee's forehead. He looks over his shoulder at Byunghun, who is standing directly behind him, already busy at slipping a glove on to his other hand. Chanhee elbows him in the side and puts the glove on himself.
"Don't do stupid things like that," he orders.
Byunghun chuckles, ignoring Chanhee's demand completely. "Getting killed by a stiletto sure is one way to go," he muses, reaching over Chanhee's shoulder to graze a covered finger over the smooth material. "I'm sure you and your mentor will have a lot of fun with this, won't you, Jonghyun?"
"Totally." Jonghyun grins and nods in agreement. "Although, my mentor says he thinks the stiletto wasn't the cause of death."
That gets both the investigators' attention.
"It wasn't?" Chanhee asks, shooting a puzzled glance at the forensic analyst.
"W-We don't know for sure yet!" Jonghyun exclaims defensively. "Thanks to Byunghun-ssi's report, we're going to have to go the full nine yards. Narcotics testing is the highest priority of ours right now. Everyone on our team doesn't really think a heel could impale a person's head so well it could kill them, let alone get past their skull."
Chanhee lets out a soft 'huh' and moves hair away from the heel implanted in the young man's head. The hair closely surrounding it had gone crusty with dried blood caking it. He scrapes away a bit and then holds it up to the light. It certainly wasn't recent; the coloring was a dark brown and just by rubbing his fingers together the blood fell in small flakes.
He lets out a long exhale as he thinks things over. "Wait a second..." He arches an eyebrow as he recalls something Jonghyun had said. "What do you mean, 'thanks to Byunghun's report'?"
"You mean you didn't know?" Jonghyun asks, genuinely curious. "It was because of Byunghun-ssi we even found out about this case! He called Minsoo-ssi a few hours ago, telling him this crazy story about a stiletto flying through his window and how he spoke to the spirit of this guy—" he gestured to the body lying in the trunk, "—here! Not that— Not that I think you're crazy or anything, Byunghun-ssi."
"No offense taken," Byunghun says with a shrug.
Chanhee grimaces and turns his attention back to the body.
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