The walls of Jongin’s tiny office are slowly consumed by an inordinate amount of paperwork and photographs and newspaper clippings on the walls. Most of it has to do with current cases or those just closed, but he’s got a tiny corner that’s dedicated to Kyungsoo’s case. It’s small, and there are no photographs included; if anyone where to look at it, they’d just assume it was another current case.

It’s a Thursday, and it’s slow. Jongin is perched in his cushioned desk chair, hunched over his computer. He’s supposed to be typing up a report on some kid with a graffiti-inclination but his mind is wandering. He glances up at the office door to make sure that it’s securely closed, and then he minimizes the window with his report and pulls up his files on Kyungsoo’s case.

It doesn’t matter how many times he pores over the case, he thinks miserably to himself. There is no new information. He knows everything by heart at this point; he could probably recite the case file word for word by now. And none of it makes any sense. How did someone just disappear without a trace? No witnesses, no evidence. And all of it leaves Jongin with a sinking, guilty feeling twisting him inside out.

He’s glued to the screen of his computer when the door suddenly opens. Jongin jumps about a foot in the air, and he is quite alarmed to see the Chief standing in the doorway holding a stack of papers and wearing an expression like he’d caught one of his employees doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“C-chief,” Jongin exclaims, scrambling to exit out of the window with Kyungsoo’s case file. He only manages to minimize it before he pulls up the report on the kid with the vandalism charge. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He cringes at the guilty note in his voice. It’s unmistakable.

The Chief isn’t an idiot, and he knows when someone is up to something. He crosses his arms over his uniform and taps his fingers against his forearm. “This is my precinct,” he says coolly. “I can drop in anywhere I damn well please.”

Jongin flushes. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” He wants desperately to exit out of Kyungsoo’s case file but he knows it’ll only make Chief Wu more suspicious.

“What are you working on?” the Chief asks, gesturing to Jongin’s computer.

“Oh, just finishing up this report on that Park kid,” Jongin says, leaning back in his chair. “I’m nearly done.”

“Good,” Chief Wu says, walking around the desk. Jongin feels his heartbeat speeding up. His palms are sweaty; he wipes them as unobtrusively as he can on his slacks. Chief Wu tosses his packet of papers down on the desk; he’s got a clear view of Jongin’s computer screen now. “I want to you to get to work on this. Just some basic paperwork on some lowlife who violated his parole.”

Usually Jongin would complain about this dull assignment – which could easily be delegated to someone much lower on the proverbial food chain – but at this point he just wants Chief Wu to leave. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I’ll get right on that.”

For a second it looks like the Chief is going to leave, but then he catches sight of the minimized window on Jongin’s computer. “What’s this?” he asks.

“Oh, that’s just-” Before Jongin can stop him, the Chief reaches over and commandeers the mouse. Jongin holds his breath. This is it. This is the end for him. Not only will he lose his job, but he’ll probably be arrested too. He’ll probably spend years in jail. Not just him, but Victoria and Sehun will probably get in trouble too.

“Oh, that’s just something I asked him to look into.”

Both Jongin and the Chief look up. Luhan is standing in the doorway, wearing his usual suit and carrying a manila file folder in his hands. He’s smiling. “Sorry, Chief. I didn’t mean to distract your detective. I just asked for his input in a case I’m working on.”

The Chief hesitates, but then he relinquishes the mouse and steps back. “Don’t spend too much time on other things, detective,” he says coolly. “I expect this parole report on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Yes sir,” Jongin says, relieved. “I’ll get on that right away.”

The Chief leaves and Jongin counts his lucky stars that he’s not sitting in one of the jail cells down the hallway. That is, until he sees Luhan still standing in the doorway, a smug sort of expression on his face.

“You owe me, kid,” he says.

Jongin exhales slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Thanks, Luhan.”

Luhan steps all the way into the office and shuts the door with an alarming sort of finality. “So, what is it that you’ve been working on so secretly that you’re afraid of the Chief finding out about?”

Jongin grimaces. “It’s probably better that you don’t know,” he says honestly. “I would hate for you to get into trouble, too.”

Luhan gives him a level look, arms folded. “I know that whatever mess you’re in, Victoria and Sehun are involved too. Just tell me. Maybe I can help.”

Jongin sighs but, against his better judgment, he beckons Luhan over. He pulls up Kyungsoo’s file and gestures for Luhan to take a look at it.

Luhan settles himself in Jongin’s chair, perches his glasses on his nose, and peruses the information on the screen. It takes him a long time to read over it. There’s a lot of material and even though Jongin knows that Luhan is a fast reader it’s obvious that he’s taking his time. Jongin wonders if a criminal psychologist has ever looked at Kyungsoo’s case before. He finds himself getting more and more hopeful the longer Luhan looks at the case files.

In the end, Luhan sits back and removes his glasses. “This case is a decade old, Jongin. Why are you so interested in this?”

“I just am,” Jongin says evasively, leaning against the filing cabinet in the corner.

Luhan gives him a flat look.

Jongin sighs. “He was my childhood best friend,” he finally admits. “I was with him right before he disappeared. I’m trying to see if I can find out what happened to him. I know I’m not supposed to and I know that I can get in a lot of trouble for digging around, but I need to know.”

Jongin is grateful that Luhan only nods and doesn’t ask him that unanswerable question of why he thinks he’s going to get anywhere in this case when those that have come before him, those more experienced and more talented, haven’t been able to. He simply hums.

“So,” Jongin drawls, hardly daring to hope. “Do you think you can help?”

Luhan shakes his head, replacing his glasses. “I’m afraid that I’m not familiar with this case and there’s not really enough to go on that a psychologist like me could help with. Unless you want to tell me more?”

“M-more?” Jongin stammers.

Luhan is looking at him fully know, and there’s this knowing glint in his eye. “You said you were the last to see him. Now, I’m not accusing you or anything, but it looks to me like you’re suffering some kind of guilt over this. Is there any reason that you might think this was your fault? That your friend’s disappearance had something to do with you?”

Again Jongin hesitates, but in the end he blurts it out. “He liked me, and I turned him down.”

“I don’t think that a childhood crush would cause-” Luhan begins.

“This wasn’t a childhood crush,” Jongin interrupts impatiently. He’s not sure how he knows that it wasn’t just a childhood crush, but he knows it unequivocally. “It wasn’t. It was…something more. And I hurt him. I think I hurt him a lot.”

Luhan can sense that he’s treading on some sensitive ground here, and he sits back in Jongin’s chair and it’s nearly like they’re having some sort of counseling session. “How did you hurt him, Jongin?”

Jongin doesn’t want to say it out loud – that always makes it seem all the more real – but he truly wants Luhan’s help. “I slept with him,” he mutters, ashamed. He’s not sure which one he is more ashamed about – the sleeping with another guy or the fact that he then brutally destroyed whatever hopes said guy had harbored. Both are horrible options.

Luckily for him, Luhan seems to understand immediately and he doesn’t press the matter. “Ah, well so there’s a new possibility. Maybe your friend ran away.”

“No,” Jongin says stubbornly, not even wanting to entertain that thought. “He wouldn’t have done that. He had everything going for him. Even if I rejected him, he would’ve just held his head high and gone on with life. That’s the kind of person he was.”

Luhan hums noncommittally. “Well, without more information, I’m afraid I can’t make any other educated guess. But I think I can help you in one way.”

“And what way is that?” Jongin asks, feeling dejected.

Luhan smiles. “Come home with me after work tonight and I’ll show you.”

Jongin has to stay late because of the report on the parole-breaker that the Chief had assigned him, but Luhan doesn’t complain and he catches up on some of his own paperwork until Jongin has successfully handed in the report to Chief Wu.

“So why am I going to your place?” Jongin asks once he’s safely buckled in the front seat of Luhan’s car, sending a text to Sunyoung to let her know he’s not going to be home until later.

Luhan smiles at him. “I want you to meet my roommate.”

“Xing Xing!” Luhan calls when he lets himself and Jongin into the fifth floor apartment, toeing off his shoes and shimmying into his slippers.

The roommate comes into view from the kitchen, wearing a floral print apron and smoking something that smells suspiciously not like a cigarette. “You’re late!” he complains. “Dinner is almost ready-” He suddenly catches sight of Jongin, standing awkwardly in the entryway in his socks, and his expression changes. “Oh. I didn’t know you were bringing company.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” Jongin says quickly. “Please, go ahead and eat.”

The roommate’s eyes twinkle happily. “Oh, don’t worry,” he assures Jongin quickly. “There’s more than enough to go around. You’re cute.”

“Hands to yourself,” Luhan warns with a little laugh. “He’s off-limits. He’s got a girlfriend.”

The roommate shrugs indifferently. “That’s okay. I’m more into girls this month anyway.”

Luhan introduces Jongin to the roommate, whose name is Yixing, as the three of them settle down to a delicious home-cooked Chinese dinner. Yixing is a complete enigma to Jongin. He’s not really sure if the kid is gay or straight, what his nationality is, how he ever got to be friends with a professional like Luhan. Everything about him defies all of Jongin’s preconceived notions about what people should be like.

“The reason I invited you over was so you can meet Yixing,” Luhan says once they’ve finished eating, pushing their empty plates away. “He’s an artist, you see.”

Jongin glances around the apartment, which is a strange mixture of classy modernity and artsy bohemian. “That doesn’t really surprise me,” he admits, eyes landing on a framed painting of two men draped intimately around each other.

“Though he prefers things a bit more light-hearted, I get him to help out by doing composite sketches for work sometimes,” Luhan continues. “He doesn’t do them often, but he’s the best. I thought it would help if he drew up a picture of what Kyungsoo might look like today.”

Jongin swallows the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat. He’s never imagined what Kyungsoo might look like now. He’s stuck in Jongin’s mind as the round-faced adolescent with the big eyes and the heart-shaped mouth. He’s not sure that he can handle knowing what Kyungsoo might look like ten years later.

But in the end he nods. He doesn’t quite trust himself to speak but, if Luhan thinks it might help, he’s willing to take the chance.

So, while Luhan and Jongin clean up the dinner dishes, Yixing settles down in his little art studio at the back of the apartment with the photograph Luhan had brought from the station to draw his composite sketch.

Jongin is antsy and uncomfortable the whole while. He keeps glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the art studio, his hands elbow-deep in warm, soapy water. Luhan is humming softly under his breath; he seems to realize how mind-boggling this is for Jongin so he doesn’t try to make conversation.

The two of them have just finished putting the dried dishes back in the cabinets when Yixing appears in the kitchen doorway, a piece of sketch paper in hand. “Done!” he announces happily.

Jongin is so startled he nearly drops the plate he’s holding. “A-already?” he stammers. “That was so quick! How can you be sure you’ve gotten all the details right?”

Luhan puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Yixing is a quick worker, but he’s accurate. I promise, his work is flawless.”

Jongin’s hand is trembling as he reaches out and takes the piece of paper that Yixing hands to him. “Your friend is quite a dish,” Yixing says appreciatively. “Or, would have been, I suppose.”

This earns him a smack from Luhan, who sends Jongin an apologetic smile and drags his roommate into the living room to give Jongin a little bit of privacy.

He looks down at the composite sketch. It’s roughly done, but the lines are smooth and flawless. And there’s Kyungsoo, looking up at him with that little smirk to his rosebud lips that somehow Yixing had known despite never meeting Kyungsoo. He’s older but it’s him, flawless and perfect and there are tears pricking Jongin’s eyes before he really knows what’s happening.

He takes quite some time looking at the composite sketch and getting his emotions back under control. Then he rejoins Luhan and Yixing in the living room. Though they’d been bantering happily a minute before, they stop when he makes his appearance.

“What do you think?” Yixing asks, that twinkle in his eye. “Do you think I did your friend justice?”

“Yeah,” Jongin answers, and his voice is thick and hoarse. “It’s…perfect. Thank you. I don’t know if it’ll help me find my answers, but…thank you.”

Luhan nods knowingly, that little smile on his face. “I hope it helps you at least.”

Sunyoung is waiting in bed when he comes into their bedroom after carefully storing Yixing’s sketch of Kyungsoo in one of his law books in the tiny study – he’s not sure what his girlfriend would say if she knew he was looking into the case. She’s got her reading glasses on and she’s grading papers, but she sets them aside.

“Hey,” she greets him with a little smile, removing her glasses. “How was dinner with your friend?”

“It was good,” he answers, feeling disoriented and lost in the past, in his memories.

Sunyoung seems to pick up on his strange mood. “Is everything okay?” she asks uncertainly.

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s not so sure that everything is okay. In fact, he’s starting to think that nothing has been okay since Kyungsoo disappeared. 

Ah, so angsty! I'm sorry I've been MIA for a bit. I had eye surgery and so I couldn't look at my computer and then life got in the way. On top of that, I've had massive inspiration for original work, so I've been writing like crazy just not on any of my fanfics OTL anyway, hopefully it won't be too long between updates next time! 

And thanks for the all the congratulations! I'm really excited to get married, but the wedding won't be for quite a while, until we're back in America.