Junmyeon doesn’t notice the buzzing in his ear despite its mind-numbing pitch and consistency. All he can think about is the pace of his feet as they slam and crunch against the gravel ground, the pace of his breath, fast and light, and his eyes, dead-locked onto a blurred shadow in the distance.

He’s under a bridge by the sea, where the soft white sand is clumped together into a sea of rocks and the sound of the crashing waves echo like thunder against the metallic beams. There was nothing comforting about the sea at night; it only made the never-ending night sky seem even more infinite, where the stars would glimmer in ripples and the moon would drown in the waves.

However, Junmyeon isn’t focused on the sea, but the tripping figure only a few steps ahead of him and a breath away from his grasp. That is, until the pitch of the buzzing is turned up so high it makes Junmyeon wince and trip over his feet. With a curse, he presses onto the receiver in his ear and sighs.

“Junmyeon!?” The voice on the other end wails.

“You’re kind of distracting me, Hakyeon,” Junmyeon mutters into the receiver, looking up to find the shadow gone, and the space filled with ominous silence.

“Dis-distracting you!? Do you even know--I don’t care, get out of there Junmyeon! You are fully aware this isn’t part of your job,” Hakyeon scolds him, he too out breath due to searching for Junmyeon and the culprit no doubt. He was always fifty steps behind.

“I don’t ever remember that being a rule--” Junmyeon stills for a moment. Surely, he hadn’t imagined hearing the sound of feet skidding against rocks.

“Yeah, well it is a rule--” Hakyeon makes a frustrated noise on his end, and even when Junmyeon was circling the area for threats, he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Are you really laughing!? Right now!? I don’t care anymore, tell me where you are,” He orders, his tone strained with inappropriate words threatening to escape his lips.

“Somewhere under the bridge…” Junmyeon replies absent-mindedly.

“’Somewhere under the bridge’ my ! Be more specific, I beg you,” Hakyeon hisses, only to whelp a second later the moment he hears a bang in the distance.

Junmyeon shakes his head, his small smile never faltering. “Possibly at the east end--” But he isn’t able to finish his sentence because in the next moment, something cuts past his face. On instinct, he ducks and stretches out his legs, sliding his feet in a semi-circle, hoping to trip the figure. But he jumps and slams right into Junmyeon’s chest instead, knocking the air right out of him, before Junmeyun’s back meets the ground with a sickening crunch. With a grunt, Junmyeon presses his palms against the wide chest and pushes, but his elbows falter and he buckles back into himself. His feet scratching against the ground, and kicking up in any direction in a poor attempt to free himself. He really should have taken those self-defence classes Hakyeon had told him about. 

He in a ragged breath as the person above slides their rough hands against his collar bones, and wraps stubby fingers around his throat pressing against his adam’s apple, his fingers are shaking as they hold Junmyeon’s life with an iron grip. Junmyeon struggles, and struggles, and struggles, but the other was bigger than him, stronger and lived with the intent to kill. He had done it once, he could do it again.

He closes his eyes then, conflicted with thoughts of surviving or just giving up. Junmyeon found himself alone in the dark, nothing but a waxing moon with a half-hearted smile and stars against the canvas of night. They couldn’t help him; they could cry out in bright beams of lights and silent pleas, but they were forever chained to the universe.

A shout comes from the distance then, and Junmyeon snaps his eyes wide open to see the person above him distracted. Quickly, he slides his leg from underneath him, and slams his knee into his balls. The other rolls to the side then, his cries echoing across the rocky seaside. Junmyeon could sympathize with the pain, but then again he was almost killed.

“Junmyeon!” A flashlight blinks in the distance, the centre growing larger as it nears until Hakyeon’s face could be seen. Behind him men in the same blue and white uniform rush past them. “Are you okay?”

Junmyeon opens his mouth to reply, but his throat is dry and scratchy from lost breath and he doesn’t realize how light headed he is until he gulps in the air heartily. “I’m fine,” He says with a smile. Hakyeon rolls his eyes in response and reaches out towards him.

“No matter how many times I say it,” Hakyeon grabs Junmyeon’s arm and wraps it around his shoulder. “You’re never going to listen, are you? At least take those self-defence classes I told you about.” He whines but that only makes the smile on Junmyeon’s lips grow wider.

“Right now is not an appropriate time to be smiling,” He huffs irritably and tugs on Junmyeon’s arm again.

“Really?” Junmyeon thinks out loud. “I almost died. I think it’s a great time to be smiling.”
“Always stupidly optimistic you are.” Hakyeon notes and leads Junmyeon to flashing blue and red lights; a row of cars that cause too much drama in an urban village.

“Me? If I’m stupidly optimistic, what would that make you?” Junmyeon scoffs, pulling Hakyeon towards his sleek, black car because he does not pay insurance and road tax every year just to end up riding home in a measly, dirty police car.

Hakyeon thinks about it for a moment. “Stupidly….”

“Stupid?” Junmyeon offers. “I agree. Now will you stop yanking me over to your car, I’m perfectly fine driving Alice home.”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes again, and jerks Junmyeon to a stop. A stampede of feet can be heard faintly in the distance among the sounds of angry waves and awoken seagulls. “Alice? Look- you cannot possibly be alright to drive yourself home. Look at the marks on your neck.” He grumbles and takes a hand to ghost over the growing red fingerprints on the base of Junmyeon’s neck.

Junmyeon goes to button up his not-so-white-anymore shirt but finds half the buttons missing and groans. It was one of his favourite shirts. He drops his hands to the side, looks up at Hakyeon and pulls out a glimmering grin, before turning around and scurrying to his car.

“Jun--No!” Hakyeon calls out and grabs Junmyeon by the shoulder. In turn, Junmyeon hisses and doubles over in an act of pain, and Hakyeon lets go immediately.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Did you hurt your shoulder?”

Junmyeon stays there for a moment, his hand gripping his shoulder with his back to Hakyeon before straightening up and running towards his car. Hakyeon doesn’t realise what’s happening till Junmyeon’s in the car and shutting the door.

“Hey!” Hakyeon runs up to the tinted windows and presses his face right up against the glass. “Get out of there right now!” He threatens, his fist pulling aggressively against the door handle, but Junmyeon has already locked it.

“Stop getting your breath all over Alice, it’s disgusting,” Junmyeon shouts out, but instead of stopping he just sticks his tongue out and starts at the window.

“What- are you ing insane? Stop Alice, jesus christ.” Junmyeon whines, his smile finally falling.

“Get out of the damn car first or at least get treated,” Hakyeon retorts.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Junmyeon groans and settles his forehead against the drivers wheel.

“Because last time you went against orders and chased the criminal, you were slashed in the back, didn’t tell anyone and thought layers of plasters would allow it to heal. Only for you to faint during work because you got a ing infection.” Hakyeon says, his mouth moving at an incredible rate.

“Your impeccable memory bothers me Hakyeon.” Junmyeon sighs and narrows his eyes at the Chief Officer outside his car making patterns on the window with his breath. This was the same person that was in charge of the safety of hundreds of people. What had the world come to? “Get off my car already!”

“Get checked first!” Hakyeon snaps back, earning a few stares from the slowly dwindling number of police officers around the scene.

“Fine, fine! I’ll go get checked you absolute piece of crap.” Junmyeon says with his tongue stuck out.

“You little- make sure Bohyung checks you out, got it? I’ll know if you don’t go, I’ll know.” He says with a threatening point of his finger, the tip forever staining Junmyeon’s car window with its print.

“I said I’ll go – and you’re paying for the cleaning.” Junmyeon grins then, his teeth flashing.

“Paying for what?” Hakyeon replies, an evident question mark over his head, and Junmyeon’s smile only gets wider.

He starts the engine, and does up his seatbelt. “The car.”

To Junmyeon’s joy, Hakyeon’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Are you kidding? This car costs a fortune to get cleaned.” He whines and kicks at the door. Junmyeon looks down at Hakyeon’s feet and back up at his guilty face.

He smiles wider. “I know.” He says before driving off. The purr of his car and the distant cries of Hakyeon relax him as he makes his way to the hospital.

“Are you stupid?” Bohyung snorts as she lifts the back of Junmyeon’s shirt, a gloved hand ghosting against his skin.
“Why do I keep hearing that today?” Junmyeon grunts, wincing as Bohyung presses her fingers into sore flesh.
“Because you’re stupid.” She says in the same matter-of-fact tone she uses when she’s diagnosing a patient. “We’ve been over this. You don’t exercise and don’t build up muscle. Therefore, you’re physically inept to carry out the laboured work of chasing murderers that are strong enough to kill people with their bare hands.”
“Well, he strangled one of them before the other noticed, and then he slammed the other’s face in, so really, anyone could do it. Hardly a matter of strength.” Junmyeon shrugs and winces again.
“Most people don’t have the will to kill someone either,” Bohyung snaps back, and Junmyeon holds back a snigger because he’s always loved her short temper.
“Contrary--”
“Don’t even tell me that most people are capable of murder, we all are, but all the doctors in this hospital prove that those intents don’t get the better of us,” Bohyung says, her tone low and serious, and Junmyeon gulps down his smile. He’s never been good with Bohyung despite being friends for nearly six years now. He could never handle her seriousness.
He decides to change the subject. “How am I doing, Doctor? Will I live?”
“You’ve got a serious set of bruises running down your back, Junmyeon, and you might have sprained your hip…” She informs him as she presses her hand into his side, a series of whelps bubbling up in his throat. “And you weren’t going to get checked, were you?” She huffs. Junmyeon can’t see her but he can tell she has a scowl on her face. “We’ll get some x-rays done.” Bohyung tells the nurse beside her; Junmyeon hadn’t noticed she was in the room the whole time.
“Other than that, you have a scratch on your arm which I’ll mend up and you can go ahead and get that x-ray. Although I think a week in bed should be enough to heal it,” Bohyung says out loud, her voice monotone like she’s reading from a script.
Junmyeon groans out loud, his legs kicking the air. “In bed? For a week? At home? Really?”
“If I hear another question mark, I might just accidently make that scratch of your’s bigger,” She mutters as she slides with her chair to face Junmyeon. She’s pretty, too pretty to have a constant scowl on her face. Well at least that’s what Junmyeon thinks. Despite that, she takes care of her appearance with dyed auburn hair that curtains the sides of her face delicately, smooth skin so translucent it looks like it’d tear with a single . Her eyes are the kind that are sleek and dark. The kind of eyes Junmyeon hates because they always seem like they could see right through him.
She picks up a pair of tongs and tabs the cotton bud into disinfectant before clearing . “How’s Hakyeon?” She questions, her face stiff with false nonchalance. Junmyeon’s lips twitch into a smile.
“Yeah, you know him, forever doing the work through a mic…” He pauses and looks down at Bohyung, who’s biting her lip. “Although, I think I heard he has a date this weekend though.” The tongs clatter to the ground, and she curses.
Junmyeon whistles and swings his legs, watching as Bohyung’s cheeks blossom into pink. She clears again. “W-with who?” She asks, again trying to act smooth but her knitted eyebrows and clenched jaw suggest otherwise. Junmyeon’s loving it.

“This pretty girl. She has long, brown hair, dyed of course, but it came out pretty natural-looking. She’s got this round face, quite chubby on the chin if I do say so myself, and looks way too old for her age. Like a good ten years.” Junmyeon nods, his face scrunched up with comedic seriousness.
Bohyung looks up after plastering his wound, and then slaps it with her palm. “Ow!” Junmyeon squeals, grabbing at the sore skin with a pout. “What was that for?”
“You don’t think I can tell when you’re making fun of me?” She snaps and gets up from her seat. “And I don’t look ten years older than my age, thank you very much. It’s the stress, it ruins my skin,” She says as if she’s trying to convince herself more than him. She mumbles something then and goes to pat her cheek. The nurse is laughing.
“Shut up, Nana,” Bohyung sneers and hands the left over bandages to her. She giggles as she turns to clean up the counter and Junmyeon just watches Bohyung with a wide smile. “I hate you,” She tells him but he just snorts.
“No, you don’t.” Junmyeon sings before jumping off the bed, only to immediately regret it. Pain shoots up his back, and his muscles throb from the running. Maybe he should sit back down.
“X-ray room is ready so let’s get you prepped” Bohyung chirps and slaps him on the back. He tries not to show the pain on his face, but she sees it anyway and smiles.
Junmyeon has to limp his way to the dressing rooms to change into a rather revealing patient gown. Once his x-ray is done he gets to lie in bed for a while, but not long enough before Bohyung enters with a swift flick of the curtains and a clip board.
“Luckily, you’ve only got a first degree hip sprain,” She says as if he understands. She clearly notes the listless look on his face and then goes to explain. “It’s a mild hip sprain. There’s a slight stretch in your ligament but it’s nothing painkillers and a few weeks of rest can’t cure,” She says while ticking stuff on her notebook. “Make sure you don’t move a lot, otherwise it’ll only take longer to heal.”
“I can see my child again!” Junmyeon praises, reaching his palm out dramatically to the air.
Bohyung sighs. “See if you can also sedate him. He’s getting delusional,” She says to Nana, the hot nurse Junmyeon had just fully acknowledged.
“You have a child?” Nana curiously asks, and Junmyeon can’t help but look at her lips as she talks.
“Don’t be stupid, this guy? A child? Not even if it killed him.” Bohyung rolls her eyes and settles the clipboard at the end of the bed.
“Can you imagine what our kids would look like?” Junmyeon says with a wide grin, his canine teeth peeking from the sides. “Let’s be honest, they’d be beautiful.” He says, flirting as he reaches for a strand of her blonde curls.
Bohyung makes profuse gagging sounds in the background, and Nana plays along, giggling like a broken record. Junmyeon his lips, his smile only growing wider.

Junmyeon wakes up to the rain drowning out his dreams. His eyes are closed but he can still see the white hew of colourless clouds and a blinding sun beating behind his eyelids. He hates this kind of weather, the type that leaves you feeling as lost as the blue sky and as hollow as the spaces between raindrops.
Sometimes Junmyeon thinks of the rain as all the tears people have kept in; those suffocating emotions they squeeze into themselves for as long as possible until they eventually accumulate into grey clouds. But when there’s too much for even the sky to handle, they fall. And sometimes he wonders where his tears are falling. On a crumbling house? On a homeless child? Or maybe they’re falling somewhere where the sun has dried the land and the rain is tears of joy rather than a mist of depression. Maybe his tears have made someone happy? He’d like to think his sadness goes somewhere rather than having it lay in a puddle amidst echoing drops of cries and swimming moans.
He doesn’t like to think of his sadness so he lets the clouds do it for him.
When Junmyeon finally opens his eyes he lets his hand flop to a side of the bed that was once warm, and had someone breathing soundlessly with a smile on their lips. But all that had been left behind was a shivering absence and a post-it note.
My Prince,
I had fun last night. Let’s do it again sometime. XX
Love Nana xxxx
My Prince, Junmyeon internally groans. He presses his palm against his forehead and tries to remember what had happened last night but all he can remember is downing two bottles of soju and Nana her pretty lips every five seconds. He pushes himself up and then feels the throbbing pain in his head and in his hips. “.” He mutters under his breath, remembering Bohyung’s instruction to not move and yet here he was hung over, , a post-it note in his hand and a torn ligament. As Junmyeon slides off his bed, he can’t remember but he hopes Nana had the courtesy to ride him but when he stands up, he realises that wasn’t the case. “She’s a ing nurse,” He hears himself moan, and goes to lie back down.
His phone rings then. It has the overly optimistic and jingly tune he is in no mood to hear right now. He stretches his hand to the counter beside his bed, trying not to move his hip but he falters for a second slipping off the bed and lands on the floor in a broken lump. At least he got his phone.
“Hello?” Junmyeon mutters, his face pressed against the floor whilst his bum sticks up in the air. “What do you want?”
“Junmyeon? You alright?” Hakyeon asks, and Junmyeon would roll his eyes if he could even open them at that moment.
“Yes, no, yes – I’m fine, what do you want?” He snaps.
“Oh wow, someone did not have a good night’s rest.” He chuckles, and when Junmyeon thinks about ripping his throat out it makes him smile a little. “Well, I was just calling to check up on you. I talked to Bohyung earlier this afternoon--”
“Earlier this afternoon!?” Junmyeon sputters and sits up straight too quickly, he then crumbles forward from the sudden pain. “Ugh, what time is it?”
“Five pm?”
“! , . ing , .” Junmyeon wails, trying to crawl back onto his bed, scavenging for a spare pair of boxers. “I’m late for work. I’m late for work. Oh dear lord, they must be thinking I’m having one hell of a lunch break.”
“Wait!” Hakyeon’s calling out and even though the phone is still pressed to Junmyeon’s ear, he’s not really hearing him. “Wait! Junmyeon, you have the week off!”
Junmyeon freezes in his tracks. “Excuse me?”
“You have a week off,” Hakyeon repeats, Junmyeon can almost see the smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry, are you giving me, a self-employed inspector, a week off?” Junmyeon asks incredulously.
“Yup,” He replies popping the p.
“You can’t just give me a week off!” Junmyeon exclaims. He tries not to think about how ridiculous he must look kneeling on his bed and shouting into his phone.
“Uh…yes, I can. You may work separately, but technically, technically you work under the police force. And as the Chief of the police force, I thus dub myself with the power to give you the week off. Besides, you have a medical statement that says you need the week off.” He finishes, and Junmyeon thinks about crushing the nose Hakyeon probably has stuck up in the air right now.
“Who gave you this power?” Junmyeon gasps, and Hakyeon snorts.
“Now listen to me! If you want to be in work quicker, then stay home and rest for as long as possible. I’d rather have you uncontrollably chasing dangerous criminals than have you stuck in a wheel chair doing paperwork,” Hakyeon warns, and Junmyeon can’t help but shiver at the thought.
“Ok, wait! Wait! I’ll make you a deal!” Junmyeon waves his hand desperately in the air. “I’ll stay home for a day or two, but at least let me go in and talk to clients and do paper work. I’ll barely move an inch, please,” Junmyeon pleads.
“Uh…no.”
“ Hakyeon.”
“Nope.”
“Hakyeon, please.”
“Nope.” (Hakyeon draws out the ‘o’ because he’s an .)
“Hakyeon! I swear to God I will do something drastic and you know I will!”
There’s a short silence on the other hand before Hakyeon says, “Has anyone ever called you a workaholic?”
“Yes, multiple times, mostly by you.”
Hakyeon finally grumbles a fine.
“Yes!” Junmyeon cheers, aggressively ignoring the crying pain emitting from his hip.
“Only talking to clients on that mingy sofa, got it!? No investigating Junmyeon, or so help me--”
“I got it, I got it!” Junmyeon cheerfully interjects.
Only when he finally hangs up on Hakyeon does Junmyeon notice the state of his room, and most likely the whole apartment. He likes to look at it as a colourful explosion, like in those advertisements, with people frolicking around covered in multi-coloured powder, only it’s his clothes scattered against every piece of furniture and foot space, and his clothes aren’t so colourful, there’s probably one blue shirt amongst all the grey scale.
Hiring a cleaner comes to mind but Junmyeon shrugs the thought off as he slides into a pair of boxers, hopping into his living room. He attempts to ignore the instant food packaging lying under and on top of the coffee counter. Books and pieces of paperwork lie on the sofa, some flop from the book cases, and Junmyeon has three of them. Some are on the floor, trailing towards the open counter kitchen which in itself is another catastrophic hell hole with unwashed dishes piling into the sink, Junmyeon wrinkles his nose at the mould growing on the cutlery. He opens the fridge only to find it mostly empty with a lone tub of cream cheese he’d rather not open shoved in the corner. The smell is absolutely foul.
He shuts the fridge and turns around still half and places his hands on his hips, wincing a little. With a final nod he says, “A cleaner it is.”

Junmyeon walks into his office with a happy sigh. His eyes beam as they slide over the tattered, brown leather sofa to the side of the room, stuffing spilling out of the back. Junmyeon has learnt that no amount of duct tape can save it. Across from it is his special black egg chair Hakyeon had bought him after he set his last chair on fire (though he’s never explained how that happened). And at the end of the room is his desk: large mahogany wood standing gracefully on three legs and half a mop proving that sometimes duct tape does in fact work.
He breathes in the musky smell of wood that comes from books lined up in his bookcases that cover almost every inch of wall. There’s also a distinct, lingering damp smell that comes from having an office under the men’s bathroom.
His favourite part, however, are the windows that settle into the back of the room. They reach up from the floor towards the ceiling, an entire wall of glass that allows you to see the cityscape against the backdrop of sky. And when night takes over Junmyeon watches as lights of orange, blue and white flicker on; the world becomes a blurred photo of bright lights and whizzing cars.
Two days away from work had already short circuited his brain, especially when having to compromise with a cleaner who worried too much about Junmyeon’s health and his lack of a companion.
A grown man like you should be able to take care of yourself.
What would your girlfriend think? You don’t have one?
Well, no wonder there son. 
As entertaining as it was to see her so frantic, having someone in his house for so long only made him stiff and uncomfortable. But at least his flat was clean now.
It isn’t two seconds since Junmyeon settled into his seat behind his desk that he hears a knock and straightens up with excitement for the first client of the day. “Come in,” He calls, staring at his computer as if to seem busy.
“Sir, Hakyeon sent up work for you.” A young man, barely beyond the age of twenty walks in with a rather bored expression and settles several folders onto Junmyeon’s desk.
“Ah, thank you, Jungkook.” Junmyeon smiles. “Do I not have any clients waiting for me?”
Jungkook’s lip twitches. “No sir, Not that I know of.”
“Well, thank you for the… papers,” Junmyeon says, deflating slightly. “Please do call me if I have any clients on their way.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath and replies, “Sir, I thought I’ve made it clear that I am not your assistant.”
“But you always see who comes into the building and who doesn’t,” Junmyeon points out, blinking innocently.
“Sir, with all due to respect, this is a police department with over ten stories worth of offices. I see everyone who comes in and out. I am the receptionist,” He says with a very unreadable and blank expression on his face.
“So…I don’t have an assistant?” Junmyeon asks.
“No, sir.”
“Why not?”
“Because you cannot afford one sir.” Jungkook sighs in exasperation, and Junmyeon nods, as if understanding.
“You’re entirely right. That straightforwardness of your’s is exactly what I need for an assistant!” Junmyeon says with a definite slap to his desk. “You’re hired!”
“I refuse,” Jungkook says with a palm out. Before Junmyeon can get another word through he’s already left the room.
“Stubborn kid.” Junmyeon shakes his head and excitedly latches onto the folders in front of him.
There are five folders, he’s spread them out on his desk like a deck of cards. He takes a hand and skims over their rough surfaces, before he lifts a finger and closes his eyes. Dropping it, he finds it’s landed for the second one to the right and opens it with anticipation.
It doesn’t take long for Junmyeon to decide that a case on a missing frying pan at Pizza Go (despite how good their pizzas are), or a case of the murdered cat (that was clearly run over due to the tyre marks), were not exactly what he wanted to spend his time on. It isn’t till Junmyeon opens the third file and reads the category under murder that Junmyeon sits up straighter and reads carefully. He briefly registers the victim’s name and before he can continue on towards the description there’s a knock at the door and Junmyeon can’t seem to groan any louder.
“Come in,” He calls out reluctantly.
“There’s a client here for you,” Jungkook says and opens the door.
Junmyeon looks up to meet Jungkook’s eyes. They’re still but they scream I’m not your assistant and before Junmyeon can say anything, Jungkook slams the door shut. In his place stands a rather short man with a round face and striking eyebrows. He offers Junmyeon a smile.
“Nice to meet you! Please take a seat,” Junmyeon sing-songs, holding his palm out to the tattered sofa as he settles into his egg seat. “My name is Kim Junmyeon.”
The other takes Junmyeon’s out stretched hand and shakes it, “Kim Minseok.”
Junmyeon lets the name rattle in his brain, and then smiles. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I was hoping I could hire you,” Minseok begins. His hands are shaking.
Junmyeon nods. “For what?”
Minseok narrows his eyes in suspicion. “For an…investigation?”
He blinks. “Oh god, yes! Yes, of course.” Junmyeon shakes his head before reaching for a notepad and pen from his desk. “Please, give me all the details.”
Minseok hesitates for a moment before he clears his throat and begins, “I own a house in the south coast, about a two hour drive from here and as the land lord I offer free lodging for several residents due to personal circumstances.” He takes a deep breath, eyes shutting for a moment before he continues. “And two months ago...two months ago one of my…my residents was found on the shore. They say she committed suicide, but--but that – I’m not convinced that was the case. Jiwon wouldn’t do something like that, after all her hard work…she finally found a job, and a new place to live. She was finally making a life for herself…and she…I just– I want this to be properly investigated before it was shut.” He grips his hands firmly then and looks up into Junmyeon’s eyes. In them held determination and an emotion Junmyeon couldn’t quite recognize. “I know it’s a stretch to suggest murder, but if...if it is, I want him found and I want him in jail.”
Minseok goes silent; Junmyeon takes a deep breath and blinks for a moment before offering him a smile. “I appreciate you coming all the way here to ask specifically for me, but I’m afraid it’s not in my jurisdiction,” Junmyeon says, his own hands grasped tightly together because he wants this case. “Is there any specific reason you wanted me?”
Minseok looks taken aback by the question, but he collects himself well. “I was simply referred here. If…if location is a problem, I have no qualms about offering you a room at my home. In fact, I’m sure it’d be far more productive if you were there. Besides, she’d only died ten minutes away from the house.” He offers, lips are turned down, and for someone with his face it seemed as if a grimace did not suit him.
Junmyeon bites his lip. An off-location investigation? How could he not get excited at the thought? To be able to investigate the crime scene, breathe in the town, get to know the people and finally solving the case. The investigator that solved the mysterious suicide. Junmyeon felt a giggle bubble up in him and cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his crumbling composure.
Hakyeon might just kill him.
Hakyeon always wants to kill him.
Oh, what the hell. “I’ll take it!” Junmyeon cheers, a wide smile across his face.
Minseok sides-eyes him warily. “That’s it? That simple? No questions?”
“Of course I’ll have questions, but that’s for when I’m down there. Asking questions in an investigator's office is hardly a comfortable matter. Besides, I assume the residents in your house will be suspects for this investigation. So it’s best if I make do with my work when I arrive.” Junmyeon nods, and Minseok lets out a sigh of relief.
“Thank god! The police have kept rejecting this matter, I’m glad I came here!” Minseok smiles widely, and quickly goes to grab Junmyeon’s hand, shaking it profusely.
“My pleasure.” Junmyeon grins, shaking his hand just as hard.
“I’ll be sure to pay you well so please don’t worry, Mr Kim. I’ll have everything prepared for your arrival. Again, thank you.” Yes, this is what Junmyeon loves, the trust of a client, the potential for mystery, the excitement of the chase.
Not even Hakyeon could deny him of the thrill.

“No,” Hakyeon says.
“You can’t just say no.”
“You’re right…definitely not.”
“You cannot deny me of this opportunity, damn it.” Junmyeon snaps into his ear piece.
Hakyeon sighs. Junmyeon can hear him rolling his eyes. “Yes I can.”
“Oh, come on! What’s the problem?” Junmyeon demands, banging the steering wheel violently.
Hakyeon clears his throat. “Many things. One being that you just literally recovered from your hip injury--”
“Can you stop making such a big deal out of it?” Junmyeon interjects. “It was a sprain, and I rested for a week just like Bohyung said.”
“Yeah, a week ending today. A no is a no. You can hold it off for another week or two,” Hakyeon says finally. Junmyeon groans audibly. “Look, chances are if this thing isn’t a suicide, then the murderer is there, and you being there as a detective isn’t going to do you any favours,” He explains, and Junmyeon is almost convinced, almost.
But he has an answer. “Don’t worry, I already thought of that. I’m going undercover, as a new resident. It’ll be awesome.”
“What are you, sixteen? It will not be awesome.” Hakyeon sighs. “And this is not a drama. So go later in the month. That’s my only option I’m giving you, take it or leave it.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Junmyeon says as he turns his head, parking into an empty spot on the side of the road.
“What’s that supposed to--wait, no…” There’s a pause. “You’re already there, aren’t you?”
“Yup.” Junmyeon grins, switching off the engine and pulling out his keys. He peers through his passenger window at Minseok’s house. It is too big to see clearly from inside the car.
“I swear to god I’m going to fire you at this rate,” Hakyeon hisses into Junmyeon’s ear.
He only grins wider. “Stop grinning! I know you are!” Hakyeon screams.
“Look,” Junmyeon starts. “I’ll be alright, so can you stop worrying?”
“That doesn’t reassure me in the least bit. Why do they need you anyway?” Hakyeon says, his tone flat. He’s given in, or given up. Either way is okay with Junmyeon
“I don’t know. They said someone referred him to me.” Junmyeon shrugs and unbuckles his seat belt.
“Who in their right mind referred him to you?”
“Hey, I’m a perfectly capable detective, alright?” He says with a sneer and gets out of the car. He stops in his place for a moment, taking in the crisp air for the first time. It feels clean, cleaner than any type of air the city can offer, and there’s the slight taste of salt that leaves his lips feeling dry.
“I know you are. In fact you’re one of the best in your profession. You’re just ing annoying.” Hakyeon continues on, but Junmyeon has already given up on listening to him.
“Yeah, okay, love you too, bye,” He mutters quickly and slips the Bluetooth piece from his ear to stare up at the house.

Huge wasn’t a big enough word to describe the monstrosity of a house that stood before Junmyeon’s eyes. It was like all those period dramas his grandmother had forced him to watch when he visited during holidays: white walls encasing a very traditional Korean house, with a large wooden door for the entrance. The house itself had tiled roofs descending from a point and flicked out at the corners almost like a carnival ride. Cemented walls and wooden banisters bordered the house along with sliding doors and small windows.
He brushes down at his jeans and jumper, fairly casual clothes for a ‘recently single man who had his money stolen from his psychotic, murderous girlfriend’. Junmyeon goes to pull his suitcase out of the trunk and slams down on his 1980’s model car. It shakes violently and Junmyeon grimaces hoping it won’t fall apart right then and there. The mouldy beige colour and duct taped windows were accessories to Junmyeon’s ‘poor’ look. The vehicle looked like a driving catastrophe, but what has to be done must be done for the sake of authenticity.
With a deep breath, he presses on the buzzer and waits till a voice blares from the intercom. “Hello?”
“Ah hello, Minseok? It’s me, Kim Junmyeon.” Junmyeon says nonchalantly and slips a casual hand in his pocket.
“Ah yes! Junmyeon, let me let you in quickly,” Minseok answers briefly before the intercom cuts off. A series of clanks from the gates follows before they begin to open up at a mind-numbingly slow pace.
Junmyeon slips through the crack and hears the crunch of grass come from beneath his feet. Green patches circle the house; on the far right corner there’s a pond, and flowers border the foot of the porch. Junmyeon makes his way to the entrance where Minseok is already sliding the door open and offers him a far more softer smile than he had received back in his office.

“Good to see you,” Minseok nods in acknowledgment. “Everyone’s really excited to meet you. Well, as excited as being investigated can be.” He jokes, and Junmyeon stops in his tracks.
“They know I’m a detective?” He inquires, not allowing his mouth to fall too wide. They step into the hallway where a rack of shoes is pressed into the side and a series of doors follow along head.
Minseok turns and looks at Junmyeon. “Was I not supposed to tell them?”
he asks, worry lacing his tone

“Oh no, it’s alright.” Junmyeon smiles, cursing inwardly. His cover was blown before he even managed to step into the house. He wishes he’d brought Alice now. He also thinks about the clothes in his suitcase; colourful t-shirts, jumpers and tattered jeans. He was going to suffer. Hakyeon was going to laugh.

Junmyeon follows him till the very end of the hallway, just after the staircase, where he slides open a door that leads them into the living room. It isn’t visible from the outside, but modernity is etched into every bit of this house; from the dugout in the middle there’s a glass floor and sofas that border round it. A T.V is placed on the opposite of the room, at a high angle and beneath it is a set of consoles. The lounge leads to the back garden, and along the back porch to the left side is an open kitchen.

Junmyeon can see almost every single won popping out of each piece of furniture and work of architecture and he begins to wonder just how rich Minseok must be to afford a house and allow free rent. The thought is tucked away to the side as he heads over to a small coffee table, where cushions have been settled on either side and a ready set of tea is served.

“You might as well get comfortable already,” Minseok sighs and bends down to sit. “You’re probably going to be here awhile.”

“I would hope to solve this case rather quickly. My boss isn’t too fond of me being out in the field so soon,” Junmyeon replies, and goes to grab his cup of what he now sees is green tea. He lets the warmth tingle in his palm before he brings it to his lips.

“Why not?”

“Injury,” Junmyeon responds easily, blowing off the steam.

“Injury?” Minseok curiously perks, a raised eyebrow popping up from behind his tea cup.

“I injured my hip a week ago. It’s alright now but Hak--my boss isn’t so keen on it as I am.” Junmyeon shrugs and goes to grab a mochi, picking at the bun before biting into the filling. “So, are there any rules I should be aware of? I assume five guys under one roof isn’t easy.” Junmyeon can barely live on his own. 

“Most of us are out or busy during the day, but we tend to all chip in for dinner, and go in rotation to cook and clean,” Minseok explains, pointing towards the kitchen. “Other than that we keep places we share clean.”

Junmyeon nods, thinking it sounds easy enough. Cleaning.

“About the investigation…” Minseok begins, but Junmyeon interjects with a palm.

“I want everyone to be comfortable around me, well like you said, as calm as you can be around an investigator. And don’t worry, I won’t be suspicious enough to get you questioned.” Junmyeon reassures him.

“Well, the boys are pretty comfortable and all agree on wanting to know what happened.” Minseok continues. “Jiwon’s room is still untouched after the police took pictures, and they’ve given back any evidence they took. I’ll be sure to hand them over to you.” His voice cracks at her name, and he slips his trembling fingers under the table. He tries to keep his face smooth and calm, but his lip twitches and his eyebrows knit together.

Junmyeon concludes that the two must have been close. Or closer.

The two of them open their mouths to speak, but their breaths are cut short by a loud bang. From the side, the sliding shoji doors leading to the garden are rattling and in the middle of the transparent paper is a hole the size of a fist ripped right through. Minseok moves from the side and goes to grab something off the floor, when he lifts it there’s a baseball sitting in his palm.

“Not again,” Minseok groans and gets up from his seat. He heads over to the shoji doors and slides them open an inch to shout, “Luhan, Jongdae! Get in here now!” He turns back to Junmyeon with an apologetic smile, and a vein popping out of his temple. “This wasn’t the introduction I was hoping for.” He grumbles and starts clearing up the tea.

There are footsteps from outside, and a loud ‘oof’ that comes from the entrance before a head pops in. “I’m telling you now,” The young man insists, his face contorted into an irritated grimace. “This isn’t my fault.”

“A likely story, now get in here, Luhan.” Minseok says impatiently, his foot tapping against the polished floor. Luhan trudges into the room with his hands knitted behind his back and his eyes everywhere but on Minseok, or Junmyeon. “How many times have I said if you wanted to play baseball, play it near the shore. This is the third door you’ve broken.” He scolds, and Luhan lets his ash brown hair cover his eyes a little.

“I told you it wasn’t my fault,” Luhan groans, his voice low. “That thing out there was the one with the bat, not me.”

Minseok raises an eyebrow. “And where is Jongdae?”

“Here, sir!” Another voice calls out from the door, and if Junmyeon first thought Luhan looked small, Jongdae looks smaller. He strides in with a grin, canine teeth biting into the side of his lips, and his eyes twinkle with mischief as he goes to stand beside Luhan. He brings out the bat from behind him and leans against it. “You called?”

“Want to explain that?” Minseok sighs and points at the door for the third time.

Jongdae lazily brushes his eyes towards the door, passing Junmyeon’s on the way and turns back to Minseok with an even wider smile. “Did you know that almost everything in the world can be referred back to math, as well as physics? If we’re talking about the angle and speed at which I hit the baseball, then--”

Luhan slaps a palm across Jongdae’s lips and groans loudly. “I’m pretty sure the world would be a better place if you weren’t allowed to use that mouth of yours.”

Jongdae pulls his hand down and grins. “No way, this mouth does wondrous things.” He quips, and his lips. Junmyeon lets his eyes trace down Jongdae’s jaw, refined bone lifting up towards his ears and cheek bones rising into slanted eyes that give him a striking face. Junmyeon thought he looked both good-looking and awkward. He only notices that Jongdae’s staring at him when Minseok clears his throat.

“Oh jesus, guys, this is Junmyeon, the temporary resident I told you about.” Minseok introduces with an open palm. “Junmyeon, this is Luhan, and this is Jongdae.”

Junmyeon pushes himself up onto his feet. “Nice to meet you.” He murmurs politely with an inviting hand but Luhan barely acknowledges his existence and Jongdae slips past his outward palm, steps over the table and slides a hand around his shoulder.

“So you’re the detective,” Jongdae says, and at this proximity, Suho notices that they are close to the same height, and he has skin that looks like it could it tear with a single brush. “Nice to meet you too, we’ll be sure to make your stay…fun? You know, don’t detectives thrive off it? Murder? Unsolved cases? Is it like a drug?” He whispers the end into Suho’s ear enough for goosebumps to rise.

“Don’t be rude,” Minseok warns.

But Junmyeon simply pinches Jongdae’s fingers and lets Jongdae’s hand drop off his shoulder. “Well, yes quite right, just as exciting as playing baseball and damaging property,” He says sarcastically, and Jongdae stares for a moment before smirking and taking a step back.

“Do I have to introduce you people properly?” Minseok sighs, and sticks a pointed finger in the air. “Kim Jongdae. He’s been here for a nearly five years now, and works at the fishing docks and stalls in the marketplace.”

“Five years? That’s the best introduction I get?” Jongdae shakes his head indignantly, strands of his short black hair falling on his face. “I also enjoy romantic walks on the beach, moonlight dinners by the docks, and canoeing.”

“Be serious,” Minseok groans.

“100% serious, my good man.” Jongdae aggressively nods, a grin never leaving his face. Junmyeon wonders if that’s how he looks to other people constantly because it’s rather irritating.

“Luhan,” Minseok continues. “has been here for two years now and works at a cafe by the harbour.”

“You don’t go to school anymore?” Junmyeon inquires, and only then does Luhan bother to make eye contact. And Junmyeon wish he hadn’t, because the venom in them is enough to sting.

“What, are we being investigated already?” Luhan spat out, his arms crossed against his chest defensively.

“Luhan, we talked about this,” Minseok mutters.

“Yeah, man,” Jongdae interjects and jumps to throw a hand over Luhan’s shoulder. “Lighten up, look at what a cutie we got. It’ll be a hoot.” He whistles.

“Hoot?” Luhan raises an eyebrow, and his lips twitch, betraying his scowl. “Whatever, don’t get too comfortable, Mr Detective.”

“You can just call me Junmyeon.” Junmyeon smiles disarmingly, brushing off the rather negative introduction with an exhale. The three of them look at him for a moment as he stands there unphased and professional; a silent first impression is imprinted in all their minds.

“Well,” Minseok clears his throat in an attempt to diffuse the thick atmosphere. “I’ll show you to your room, Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon nods and goes to grab his suitcase.

“Well, Mr Detective,” Jongdae calls out as he heads towards the hallway. “I’m sure you’ll have hell of a time here.” He waves with the back of his hand before disappearing behind a corner.

“I’m sure I will,” Junmyeon sighs under his breath.

Junmyeon’s room is like every other room in the house: simple and bare. He’s also come to the conclusion that every door and almost every wall is made of shoji, a thin transparent paper used as a measly barrier between privacy. There’s a built-in wardrobe for his clothes and it holds a rolled up futon big enough for two people. Junmyeon stares at it quizzically; he’d never slept on anything but a bed and he hated camping so he wasn’t too excited to sleep on the floor for the next couple of weeks.

But by far, Junmyeon’s favourite part of the room is the balcony. It points towards the sea; in the distance, water rises and falls with every gust of wind and roars with every upbeat of a wave. To the east, near the coast, hills and mountains of houses rise in colours of brown and white, and nearer to the north all is encased in a hew of grey mist.

As he hangs his last jumper in the closet, Junmyeon’s phone starts ringing. He hums to the tune and skips over to his duffel bag, all the whilst admiring his clean and well-organised room for the last time. He knew it wasn’t going to last long.

“Hello~” Junmyeon sings into the receiver, and goes back to slide his closet door shut.

There’s a small pause on the other end, heavy breathing, and only then does Junmyeon remember he hadn’t checked caller ID. “Junmyeon?” A ragged and tired breath calls out and Junmyeon hits the ‘end’ button all too quickly. He lowers his phone to stare at it blankly - there’s a picture of a popular girl group set as his screen saver - and without another thought, he locks the phone, and throws it back into his duffel bag.

Junmyeon makes his way out into the main corridor of the second floor. He looks to the right where the staircase heading down is only five steps away, and then to the left, where the hall seems to go down so far the end is encased in shadow. There’s another four rooms ahead of his, and considering the size of his room, the others are no less.

His hands twitch. His thoughts are plagued with the suspicious need to search around, enter rooms, scuffle through drawers, and find something. He wants to investigate, but the guilt is too much of a foreboding mist in his mind for him to actually do it. He’ll just have to wait until they let him into their rooms.

Living in an apartment meant there were no stairs, and no empty walls to hang pictures. Junmyeon finds it almost odd to have so much bareness. It’s like staring at an empty canvas waiting to be painted. His family's home had pictures, pictures everywhere: on the walls, above the cabinets, on the kitchen counter, above the fireplace, under the television. His parents’ faces in barely any of them, his brothers’ smiles in almost all of them.

Junmyeon lets his hands ghost against the walls as he makes his way to the living room. There’s the rough touch of dried paint and an eerie coldness to it. Two hours in and he already finds the place unsettling though he’s not entirely sure why yet.

The living room is empty, but Junmyeon hears the faint sound of a lawn mower, and decides this is his chance to check out the garden. He goes to slide the doors to the yard open but someone already beats him to it.

“Ah, Junmyeon,” Minseok beams and steps into the living room. He’s got dirt on his cheek and Junmyeon looks down to see a pair of gardner gloves on his hand. “Want to check the garden out? The weather’s amazing and we don’t usually get too much sun here.” He chirps, heads to a small storage room at the far end, and grabs a tool box.

“What are you doing?” Junmyeon asks, eyeing the metal box in his hand.

Minseok holds it up with a smile. “Gardening. It’s one of my few pastimes. I don’t work so I get bored a lot of the time. The only thing I don’t do is cut the grass. We have a gardner out front doing that now.” He heads back out and Junmyeon follows him onto the patio.

When Minseok said ‘pastime’, Junmyeon hadn’t expected to walk into the Keukenhof Gardens. He’s evidently awestruck when he sees lanes of flowers encircling around each other in colours of red, lilac and yellow. There’s a koi pond further down the back where a willow tree has its branches hunched over and its leaves barely touching the water. There are bush flowers growing on the bottom of the patio, much like the ones he noticed at the front porch; but they’re far more vibrant, with small purple flowers bunched up naturally like a bouquet and white lilies growing and entangling themselves with the wooden banisters.

“I love showing people my garden,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon has to blink several times before he remembers where he is. “It’s that face: awestruck, amazement, and wonder. Even for someone like you, who evidently doesn’t show their emotions on their face, it’s affected you enough to freeze.” He grins widely, shaking his spade in the air cheekily before going to tap at the soil beneath a bush.

Junmyeon lets a small smile slip onto his lips as he settles down on the patio, his legs hanging off the edge. “What makes you think I don’t show my emotions?” He asks curiously.

“I live with Jongdae, so I can tell instantly. Which is why you two won’t get along,” Minseok replies, his voice muffled as he digs further into the bush. A moment later he pops his head back out, his face covered in dirt and leaves stick out from his bronze hair. “Well, not right away at least.” He chuckles and claps his hands together.

“Well, I’m not here to make friends.” Junmyeon says, a smile carved onto his cheeks.

Minseok looks up at him for a moment and back down, “True.”

Junmyeon looks down at him as he digs up at the soil, dropping small blue stones before burying them. “How come you don’t work?” He asks, and it slips his lips before it’s registered in his mind.

“Am I being investigated now?”

“I do hope you guys aren’t going to be this conscious about me,” Junmyeon says with a shake of his head. “You requested me remember?”

Minseok nods agreeing before answering, “My father owns a large corporate company and I’m not very good at office work. So I decided to ship myself here. We used to come on holidays to this house. We used to love the coast.” Junmyeon doesn’t feel the need to make his opinion on grown men living off their parents money a voiced one, and insteads tucks the information under his imaginary file for Minseok.

Something, however, does catch Junmyeon’s attention. “Used to? You and your parents don’t like it here anymore?”

“Ah, well, I do, but my parents don’t come here anymore,” Minseok corrects himself and scratches the back of his neck. Still crouched on his knees, he shuffles to the side and points into the horizon. “If you keep walking ahead, you’ll get to the very edge of the coast...and if you walk to the left a good hundred metres down...you’ll see flowers and messages for Jiwon. She fell there.” He lets his shaking finger grasp the shovel again and violently goes back to digging the earth.

“‘Fell’...what made you guys think it was murder instead of suicide?” Junmyeon asks, picking a stray pebble from the patio. He lets it roll in his hand, the edges soft against his palm.

“Her medical report said she was hit on the head before she fell.” He replies, and Junmyeon is reminded to call Hakyeon about getting those documents on her death. “But like I said at the office, she had a life ahead of her. She was happy again, and it...all went.”

Junmyeon flicks the pebble and watches it hop on the gravel path before disappearing into a forest of tulips. “Why do you sound like you blame yourself?”

“Because I do,” He says without a hesitation. “When I let her into my house, I promised to protect her.”

“Sometimes, you can’t control everything no matter how hard you try to.” Junmyeon gets up then, and slips his hands into his pockets. The jeans are tighter than his work trousers, and it takes him a bit of effort to get his hands in. “Besides how many people live here?”

“Just four not including you.” Minseok says.

“Luhan, you, Jongdae and…?”

“Jung Taekwoon. He’s a student at the university half a mile away. He’s rarely home during the day but you’ll meet him during dinner,” Minseok says and grunts shortly after as he pulls something out of the soil. “Stupid weeds--oh yeah, by the way, dinner is at six thirty every night. Tonight, you don’t have to do anything but starting tomorrow you’re cooking with Luhan.”

“Oh jesus, seriously?” Junmyeon whines. “I really can’t cook to save a life.”

Minseok laughs heartily, “Don’t worry, it can never be as bad as Jongdae used to be. We’ll be able to shape you up good.” He winks. “Well, that’s about done.” He says finally and then attempts to straighten out his knees from his crouched position. But before he gets any further, Minseok loses his balance and topples backwards. Junmyeon bites his lip to prevent himself from chuckling and goes to hold out his hand but a roaring laughter comes out from behind, turning both their attention towards the living room.

“Oh well isn’t that just gold,” Luhan guffaws. Junmyeon looks up at him and back down at Minseok whose blushing faintly and patting at his knees. “What are you, a toddler? What was that?” He crows, his laughter is high pitch and it almost sounds like he’s humming a tune.

“Shut up, Luhan,” Minseok says with a point of his spade. “You’re cleaning up the kitchen on your own tonight.”

Luhan’s laughter comes to an abrupt halt. “Wait--why!?”

“Because I’m the land owner, that’s why!” Minseok cackles, and slides past both of them to get back into the living room.

“That excuse is about four years old and growing,” Luhan snaps back but Minseok is already gone.

Junmyeon turns back to face the garden, expecting Luhan to be long gone but instead he finds him settling himself on the ground by Junmyeon’s feet. Junmyeon looks down at him, watching his fluffy hair stick up astray with the wind, and then goes to turn into the living room.

“You know,” Luhan calls out. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Junmyeon replies with a raised eyebrow. “Threatening me?”

Luhan flops down onto his back, his hands crossed under his head. He looks up at Junmyeon, his eyes unflinching. “No, warning you.”

“Warnings don’t really work on me--”

“I love this place,” Luhan interjects, sitting back up, he looks onto the sea. “It’s so peaceful, everyone knows everyone, everyone cares about everyone. There’s a lot of rain but it’s never ugly. But since Jiwon’s death, everything feels as cold as the sea.”

“If you mean it’s dangerous, then I’m all too aware of that.” Junmyeon says, and crouches on his knees.

Luhan turns to the side to look at Junmyeon and sighs. “I can’t say it’s safe anymore, but this place is my haven. It’s been my shelter and a home to me for a long time, and I like the people here. Minseok, he took me in and I owe him my life.” He takes a deep breath, deep indentations emerge on his forehead.

“What are you trying to say right now?”

“I’m saying right now, for an outsider like you,” He takes a deep breath. “This place is nothing short of hell.”

Junmyeon wakes up from his nap to the sound of his alarm and the sea. He’s curled up in his futon, and to his dismay, he’s far more comfortable in it than he originally thought he would be. He looks at the time to find it’s six in the evening and that dinner is in half an hour. Putting down his phone, he drowsily peers around his room. A pair of jeans and jumper have already been left astray at the foot of his futon.

He yawns and feels his head sway with the need to hit the pillow again, but he jolts up straight and shakes his head. He’s fully aware that having dinner together in this household is a social bonding thing so he really can’t miss out on it, unlike most of the social opportunities he’s had in his life.

He shivers, noting that this isn’t the city anymore and that sleeping in nothing but boxers and leaving the window wide open is asking for a serious hit on his immune system. He flops onto all fours and miraculously forces himself up onto his feet, waddling towards the window, he shuts it with a yawn.

Junmyeon’s about to find a new pair of jeans to wear but there’s a knock at the door. Another yawn escapes his mouth as he calls, “Come in.”

Junmyeon rubs at his cheek for what he feels like is dry drool as the door slides open and Jongdae appears. “Dinners in twenty--well hello there Mr, Detective.” Jongdae grins. “Sleeping without clothes, huh? We don’t do that here because it’s cold as hell but I can totally accommodate to city folk culture.” He leans against the door frame and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Junmyeon’s typical facade goes on momentary shut down when he firsts wakes up, so instead of sarcastically replying to Jongdae, he just heads to his closet to rummage for clothes. He sees Jongdae from the corner of his eyes and he’s barely awake enough to throw a question at him. “What are you still doing there?”

Jongdae’s head evidently tilts to the side, eyes clearly on Junmyeon’s . “Just checking out the...new meat.”

“ually harassment is illegal, and as far as I am concerned, I am a member of the law.” Junmyeon informs with a roll of his eyes, his lips twitching in a failed attempt to smile.

“A very, very fine piece of the law.” Jongdae nods, and his eyes fall lower. “Although can’t say much about your legs.”

“Stop checking me out, Jongdae,” Junmyeon grumbles and starts hopping into a pair of jeans.

“Sorry inspector, it’s calling out to me.” Jongdae chides, biting his lip suggestively.

Junmyeon buttons up his jeans and zips it up. “Oh, really? And what is it saying?”

“Do you really want to know?” Jongdae smirks.

A shout comes from the first floor just then and Jongdae looks towards the stairs. “Oh, looks like Satan’s calling.” He sing-songs before sliding Junmyeon’s door shut to head downstairs.

Junmyeon thinks about how guarded they all are over being investigated, and yet they aren’t even taking him very seriously. Only a day and Junmyeon’s already received threats and homoual advances by someone who’d probably put his anywhere.

The smell of fish tickles at his nose then and Junmyeon doesn’t realise how hungry he is until his stomach does a triple flip and growls like a neglected feline. He quickly slips on a jumper, and by the time he’s halfway down the stairs, he’s already itching at his skin. “Fricking jumpers and their wool.” He hisses under his breath and heads into the living room.

He can hear sizzling, loud clattering and laughter coming from behind the door, and feels almost nervous for some reason. So as he slides the door to the side, he somehow manages to miss the step up and lands in the room face first. “,” He grumbles and pushes himself up, only then realizing the silence.

“Who’s the idiot?” An unfamiliar voice calls out and Junmyeon looks up to meet with a pair of dark eyes curtained by even darker hair.

Minseok and Jongdae burst out laughing then and Luhan simply sighs, returning to pick at his mackerel. Junmyeon gets up from the ground and rubs at his sore nose, settling beside Minseok at the dining table.

Minseok clears his throat, his lips twitching into a smile. “Taekwoon...this is Junmyeon, the inspector I mentioned. Junmyeon, this is Jung Taekwoon.”

“Nice to meet you,” Junmyeon offers, and he finds his smile as he holds his palm out for a handshake. Taekwoon doesn’t even give him a glance and lifts his bowl to his face to scarf down rice. “What, are we all anti-handshake here?”

“No, Taekwoon just doesn’t know what to do but insult people,” Jongdae sighs dramatically, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“And you don’t know how to keep that mouth shut,” Taekwoon snaps back, and shovels a large piece of fish into his mouth.

“It’s cool,” Junmyeon surrenders with arms raised. “Clearly, human interaction isn’t your fortes.”

“Don’t say that, Mr-Inspector-San,” Jongdae pouts from across the table whilst batting his eyelashes. “We’ve already gone as far enough as to see each other .” He declares proudly, and Luhan spits out his water.

“You alive there, Luhan baby?” Jongdae sniggers and watches him as he aggressively wipes down his bottoms.

“Jongdae,” Minseok calls out, and he has the most disgusted grimace on his face. “I know you work fast but this is just ridiculous.”

Junmyeon clears his throat and smiles, “Please don’t listen to the imbecile. He just walked in on me after I woke up from my nap.”

“You sleep ?” Minseok snorts, making a ‘pfft’ sound behind his closed lips.

“Boxers. I sleep in boxers.” Junmyeon insists.

“How unsanitary.” Luhan remarks.

“Animal,” Taekwoon adds.

“I think it’s kind of y.” Jongdae interjects. “Makes the whole jumping-him-in-bed thing so much easier,” He says with a swing of his chopsticks.

“Jongdae, touch me and I’ll sue you,” Junmyeon threatens and digs into his food violently.

Junmyeon notices Luhan make his way across the table to hand Minseok a bowl of rice, placing a bit of kimchi on the side before leaning back into his seat.

“So, Junmyeon, you’re the type to smile sweetly while stealing candy from a toddler,” Jongdae smirks. “I like that.”

“Isn’t that just you except you’d be laughing maniacally and boasting about it afterwards? In fact, you may just trip the toddler up while you’re at it, then hit on the mum and bang her, only to leave her the next day. Maybe even steal some jewels and the dead husband’s ashes, which you’ll probably scatter out of the convertible car you stole from them. All the while, still laughing maniacally. ” Luhan offers and in turns gets a fist in the stomach.

“Shut up Luhan, who even asked you? Why are you even here? Is there even a reason for your existence?” Jongdae laughs and throws another punch to his stomach.

“You bastard…” Luhan chokes out and whips his chopsticks towards Jongdae’s neck. “I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

Jongdae snorts, “Ha, I’d like to see your scrawning self try.”

“Says the smurf,” Luhan hisses. “Let’s see how you defend yourself with these down your throat.” He says and goes to grab at Jongdae’s chin all the while inching his chopsticks closer to his mouth.

“ing, huh?” Jongdae struggles under Luhan’s grip and yet somehow manages to keep his smirk intact. “Didn’t think you liked it rough, Luhan baby.”

Luhan looks up at Minseok then with an indescribable look of disbelief. “Let me do it, please. I swear I’d make it as painless as I can, just let me get rid of him.”

“Now, now.” Minseok goes to take a sip of water calmly whilst Junmyeon sits frozen, half prepared to jump and separate the two at any moment.

“Is it okay to just leave them like that?” Junmyeon whispers over to Minseok.

Minseok waves his hands ands nods eagerly. “They’re always like that. It gets amusing once you get used to it.” He laughs.

“This is them getting along?”

“Yeah, Luhan tends to just throw faces at people and not give them the time of day,” Minseok says. “So if he bothers you, then he actually quite likes you a bit.” Junmyeon nods as if understanding, but only briefly gets it. He has a tendency to be horrible to people like Hakyeon, despite his code to live through life with a smile. Does that mean he gets along with them?

“So, how did you manage to get them to stay with you?” Junmyeon curiously asks.

Minseok decides his time to chew and swallow his food before answering. “It wasn’t hard. They were like...abandoned puppies?” He says lightly, and Junmyeon isn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “I offered them a home when they had one, and they quite like it. They need me quite a bit.” He laughs, looking at them like a father would look at his sons with pride.

Junmyeon nods a little before bringing his own attention back to the two of them.

“We both know that’s bull!” Jongdae yaps, clawing at Luhan’s face. “You would not make my death painless if you had the chance!” He exclaims with accusing eyes.

“You’re right, who am I kidding? I would hang, draw and quarter you if I could,” Luhan vows whilst pressing his weight fully down onto Jongdae.

“Okay, break it up. Break it up.” Minseok calls out, tapping his spoon down on the table like a gavel. “Get off him Luhan. Anymore, and I’d think you’d actually want to dive into his pants.” He suggests with a raised eyebrow, and the comment couldn’t make Luhan jump away any further.

Jongdae gasps out loud, “My life flashed before my eyes.”

“And what did you see?” Minseok asks.

“I don’t know, It was all censored.”

Taekwoon chokes on his food from the side, and Junmyeon looks on with a distant stare before muttering, “I want to go home.”

“Okay, all jokes aside,” Minseok sighs. “Luhan, you don’t have work tomorrow? Yes, good. I want you to show Junmyeon round the docks and the markets, let him get to know the place. And also buy dinner with you, you’re on cooking duty with him tomorrow.”

“This whole deciding for me crap is getting old, old man.” Luhan objects with a sneer.

“You said ‘old’ twice there.” Jongdae comments from the sideline.

“Shut up Jongdae--”

“If Jongdae were in your position, I would say the same thing.” Minseok counters whilst picking gracefully at his fish and throwing pieces into his mouth. Junmyeon notices his impeccable posture as he sits straight, his head tilted slightly down, with one hand delicately placed by his cup and his other holding the chopstick appropriately. It was a significant difference to how Jongdae slouched and spoke over his food, whilst his chopsticks were gripped tightly between his fingers.

“Oh boo, I would so skip a day off work if it meant a rendezvous with Mr Detective.” Jongdae pouts and shakes his shoulders so much like a fifteen year old it makes Junmyeon sick to the stomach.

“Would you really?” Junmyeon groans through a faltering smile.

“No, not really.” Jongdae responds seriously. “Never been late or missed a day of work. Planning to keep it that way!” He says optimistically, and Junmyeon seems almost taken back.

“Jongdae takes his work seriously, unlike most things or people in his life. So, Luhan, got it? He may be a detective, but he is a resident here now,” Minseok orders with a definite point. Luhan grumbles and gives him a nod.

“Speaking of which,” Taekwoon interrupts. “When are we going to be interviewed, or investigated?” The table goes quiet and all their eyes fall upon Junmyeon. And this is precisely why he didn’t want his cover blown, because he was aware they wouldn’t act naturally in front of him if they knew he was there to observe. They had left Junmyeon with no choice but to use force, and direct consultation.

“Whenever you’re comfortable with it,” Junmyeon replies, looking up at Taekwoon with a smile.

Taekwoon meets his eyes for a moment, a spoon between his lips. “Hm, so never?”

“Ouch, that one hurt,” Junmyeon cooed. “Don’t think so harshly of me. I’m a pretty easy guy once you get to know me.”

“I’m hoping easy in more ways than one.” Jongdae comments under his breath and it earns him a kick under the table.

“But you think one or more of us killed Jiwon, don’t you?” Taekwoon insists, his thick eyebrows pulling together every second.

Junmyeon lets out a breath and spins his chopsticks in the air. “I’m not ruling out the possibility, but at the same time it may not be anyone in this house. I just moved here because of convenience, not suspicion.” He explains, hoping the smile on his lips is sweet enough for someone as sour as Taekwoon.

“Of course, you could continue being defensive and refuse cooperation,” Junmyeon continues. “But if you’ve done nothing, there’s nothing to worry about, hm?” He offers with raised eyebrows and an eye smile that could kill. Taekwoon nods once and finally breaks eye contact to go back to shoveling down his food.

“So, will these interviews be private or public?” Jongdae inquires intrigued, his eyes twinkling.

“I’m not going to interrogate you guys, so there’s no point in constraint responses,” Junmyeon answers. He lets his eyes travel to meet Jongdae’s and feels uncomfortable because he has those eyes, eyes like Bohyung’s, eyes he hates. Jongdae winks then and gives Junmyeon a grin before slouching back to eat his meal.

“Well, that’s that,” Minseok claps. “No more making Junmyeon uncomfortable. You’re like little kids bullying the new kid.”

“Oh I want to do more than bully,” Jongdae chuckles. He places his chin in his hand and although Junmyeon tries to not make eye contact with him a second time, he can feel his eyes on his skin and ghosting across his face. Junmyeon finds it hard to swallow.

“Isn’t there a rule that should forbid residents getting together or something?” Junmyeon begs, a sneer peaking out behind his smile.

“I never had a reason for there to be,” Minseok laughs, shaking his head.

“Not even with Jiwon?”

And for the second time, the table goes quiet.

Minseok eyes seem to downcast as he settles his chopsticks down, “Not even with Jiwon.”