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If You Close One Eye - Chapter Two

Ships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Bang Chan/Yang Jeongin | I.N, If you really squint you can notice Lix is into Binnie, Hyunjin was into everyone once

Characters: All the kids, The ex kid isn't here I edited him out, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Trigger warnings: panic attack, ptsd, original character death, homophobia, original character cheating, descriptive imagery.

Word count: 5878

Chapter: 2/?

Next / previous / first

Tags: Murder Mystery, amateur detective minho, Soulmates, not your typical soulmate AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Slow Burn, Slow Build, good things take time let it slowburn, minho is singlehandedly responsible for the slow burn so blame him, no soulmates in this universe only they are, criminology student minho, art student jisung, POV Third Person, chan deserves better and he does indeed get better don't worry, art references please look stuff up, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, best sibling bond ever.

"If you close one eye, you can see what your soulmate sees"

Born with one eye an unnatural golden color, Minho and Jisung have been forced to cover them up with colored lenses in order to blend into society.

The magic to their eyes? Even they still didn't know.

This is the story of how criminology major and dance minor Lee Minho found himself hopelessly in love with the serial killer, local artist Han.

[Alternatively, let's see how long I can make these two dumbasses pine without one of them snapping. Edit: they finally did]

[Also WARNING: a HUGE amount of Jeongchan ahead, it's not subtle at all! So much fluff--]

The streets of Seoul bustled as night fell, clubs and pubs lighting their headlights for the passerby's attention. Not a single soul felt real then- as if it was all nothing more than a scene in the movie. Most importantly he knew, not one person dedicated a thought to Minho at that time.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, he had no urge to cry. The tears ended, they've gone, he was past that. Instead, the shock had settled back in. Even his warm, soft covers and a light breeze from outside couldn't comfort him now. The distant sound of civilization... it all proved no use as he dissociated farther.

Calling the police had been an easy first step, so was giving his account of the incident. No, the hard part came in between.

Laying there waiting for help had been... jarring. Lightly said it was hell; crying, scared and anguished, it hadn't even hit yet that he found what he asked for, have been looking for over the last few weeks. All he knew was that he will never forget the sight, and as the sun went down, he kept his light on; terrified of falling asleep.

Blinking rapidly, even late into the night it hadn't left him. Should he call his old psychiatrist? The hallucinations didn't seem to return despite his distress, at least. No pills kept them away, but they hadn't worsened at all like he feared.

Sitting frozen in place he recounted the voice answering his emergency call, deep and reassuring. The warm hands which pulled him to his feet, the worried gaze of the patrolling officer- a kindhearted man in uniform who hugged and comforted him until he calmed down enough to speak coherently. He remembered the backup call for investigation crew one, staying in the man's hold until others arrived. He remembered a tall man speaking, another squeezing his shoulder and commanding the others.

He remembered the officer taking him to the station, same one who found him in that state, the kind mister Kim- worriedly glancing at him as he drove. The tall one joined them, only ceasing in his stream of questions after a pointed glare from Kim.

"Pill, he's the only witness. There was a corpse out there." The tall man defended, crossing his arms and looking out the window without another word.

Arriving there, Minho was struck by how much he wanted to go home. Not to his apartment, mother or sister, not to anywhere he could set his mind to either, but a home he didn't have, didn't know at that time.

"Come on, lets get you some water." Kim offered, leading Minho inside with a warm hand on his back, not before taking his backpack away and placing it where belongings of suspects went presumably.

"Are you cold?" He asked worriedly, noticing the slight shiver that went through Minho as he sat down.

At his hesitant nod Kim left his side, talking in hushed tones to another worker before returning and ruffling Minho's hair.

"I'm heading back out; someone has to stay on patrol. Jae, be nice." He warned, stepping out of the room.

As he left, the worker from before had entered back in carrying a yellow blanket and a cup, and Minho dully noted that he seemed a few years younger than himself. An intern?

A loud cough brought his attention to who he understood by now was an investigator- the tall guy who joined them in the ride, dubbed Jae by officer Kim.

"Are you okay to start?" he asked.

And so, they did.

Turning his gaze to the window in present day, Minho tried his best to forget the things said at his investigation as it led to farther memories of the incident. Passing his statement had gone fine, leading up to his release. The officer had been kind enough to drive him home without being asked, not wanting him to roam the streets in his shaken-up state. He imagined they would summon him back tomorrow, seeing as he collected a lot of valuable information on Chelle's case over time, but that had been it.

Should he look up cat videos? Minho sniffed, shuffling back till his back hit the wall. A sudden movement made him jump, relaxing immediately when he saw Dori and Soonie both jumped up to check on him.

"I'm okay, don't worry." He lied, wiping at his face with a sleeve.

An unfinished drawing; the field from today, Seoul's towers in the distance.

"…I'm not, I'm not okay." Minho corrected, bitterness filling his mouth.

He jumped up, running to crane over the toilet as nausea hit. He didn't even have any dinner, but his appetite had fled the scene for now, so it didn't matter. First night, it was only the first night- he'll get better for sure, he promised himself. He was only shocked, this can't be the end of normalcy for him. He still had a lot to look forward to, he didn't want this day to scar the rest of his life, wouldn't let it.

For now, he let himself go through it. He didn't even like Chelle, but that never meant he wanted this to happen. What was he expecting, anyway? For her to show up one day, alive and well as if nothing happened? On some level this was inevitable, wasn't it?

Dragging his feet to the kitchen, he fixed himself a glass of water and headed back to bed, where he sat and waited for sunrise. He had a few assignments still due, but he was in no mindset to do those.

Eventually light broke, dark circles evident under Minho's eyes. He got up, picking four of the empty water cups to put away and making some coffee for a change.

It was around seven AM that a knock sounded, alerting Minho who's been nodding off and shaking awake with a shiver every couple of minutes for the past hour and a half.

He stood, head spinning as he opened the door to a policeman he only vaguely recognized as the one left in charge of the scene the day before.

"…Minho, right?" The officer started after a while, undoubtedly noticing Minho's tired eyes and deciding to drop the formalities for the time being.

"I am. You have questions for me?" Minho confirmed, fighting the urge to sigh deeply.

"I do. Would you mind if we head out? I can wait for you to change, if you'd like." The cop asked.

Minho stared, realizing he hadn't changed or washed up over the past 24 hours. In comparison, the cop had been clean shaven- black hair in a pretty cut that ended right over his ears. His eyes, sharp and fox like, seemed to hold just the right amount of chill and wit expected of a detective. Moreover, he seemed a sharp contrast to last night's tall detective wearing round glasses, short blond hair messed by wind and small eyes tired yet warm.

"I'd rather we head out right away." Minho decided, trying his best not to let himself get intimidated. Describing the first detective as tall might have been fair, yet standing next to the seemingly icy man he realized he too had a good eight centimeters on him- he was just built a bit wider.

"Before we go, you said yesterday that you have files with information on the case. I'd like to see those" The man requested. Minho nodded, speeding to his bedside where his bag had been left stranded containing everything he's gathered before he left for yesterday's search.

He blinked hard, hoping to stay alert even at his tired state as he handed over his recent list of loose ends. Despite doing so, he failed to notice the man's impressed gaze scanning over the information. "Let's go." He said eventually, seeming oddly pleased. "Bring the bag with you."

.

The car ride had been silent for a while, Minho struggling to stay awake and missing all the concerned glances the other took in his direction. It was broken, eventually, by an unexpected offer trailing from the driver's side.

"Up for some coffee?" The cop asked, eyes twinkling as a cheeky smile spread across his features. Shocked, Minho nodded and noted over to himself- never judge by first impression. The moment the cop smiled, the ice broke- it was as if all the stars in the universe found a new home in his eyes, lips shaped in a heart.

The cop huffed a laughter, and Minho wondered how that person ever left a cold impression to begin with. "I'm gonna get an iced americano for me, what would you like?"

"The same." Minho said quietly, flustered. The cop hummed, obviously agreeing with that choice before his smile grew even more, a feat Minho hadn't thought was possible.

"Hold on," he instructed, stopping the car near a café and stepping outside. Soon enough he returned, two cups of iced americanos and a small croissant in hand.

"You look tired, some sugar might do you good." He explained, and it turned clear to Minho that he was one kind gesture away from breaking into tears.

"Let's go, I have questions still." Ah, there it was. Alright, fair enough- he might have been playing the role of the good cop, there was no need to take it personally.

.

At the station, Minho was faced with a few familiar faces; The tall blond detective, and the boy who brought him a blanket. Officer Kim, however, was nowhere in sight. Instead, a new addition was some guy seated on a waiting chair meant for fugitives, sleeping with a hand thrown over his face, covered head to toe in blankets and snoring quietly.

"Sit down." The blond detective instructed, pointing with his chin towards the chair he had sat in before, next to an office table with two additional chairs on its inner side. The detective himself had elected to lean against the wall, as if rejecting the idea of sitting next to his partner during this.

"Look at this." The black haired commented lowly, placing the bag they brought in the other's hands before sitting in the chair opposite of Minho.

"Would you like some water?" A voice piped in. Looking to his left, Minho found that it was the boy. Black hair messy, he could now tell for sure he wasn't an employee since he wasn't in uniform, and Minho dumbly recalled that he wasn't wearing it the day former either. Smiling lightly, he shook his head- he still had some of his iced americano left.

"Let's go over these again- You are: Lee Minho, a major in criminology, minors in dance. Twenty-one years old."

"Yes." Minho confirmed confidently.

"Yesterday, late afternoon, you were following Chelle's tracks, a girl who's dated your sister and has gone missing without notice. Attending a location that she had occupied in her last moments according to her Instagram page, you have encountered her corpse. Is that correct?"

"Yes." Minho confirmed, quieter this time.

"Over the passing weeks since her disappearance, you have acquired extensive information on Chelle's life and behavioral patterns, coming to know her well- leading to her discovery."

Minho nodded. Please be done soon…

"This was done under the request of your younger sister, eighteen-year-old Lee Ryujin."

"Almost nineteen." Minho corrected numbly. Her birthday was due next week, so nineteen.

"This is good." The tall detective commented, startling the table's occupants. He handed out the papers, slamming them on the table.

"You were right, Bri. We could use that kind of mindset." He continued, throwing Minho into a state of confusion. What was this about?

A groan behind them made the black-haired detective straighten up, leading to Minho looking behind him as well. "Oh, you're awake?"

The sleeping man stretched, making a few painful sounds and moving his hand away from his face. At the sudden recognition, Minho couldn't help but stare.

"Chan?" he asked, disbelief clear in his tired voice.

"Minho? You’re here too." He noted, taking in where he was as his expression fell horribly.

"We called him in after you went home. You can leave, you know." The tall detective commented in a hard tone, hinting on the fact he had told him this numerous times before.

"I can't go home like this; I need to know what happened." Chan insisted, sitting up and leaning his face into his hands. The image had been devastating, unlike anything Minho expected of Chan's character. At that moment the intern returned, carrying a big cup of nice smelling brown liquid and offering it to the grieving man quietly. As he accepted, the intern sat by him and comfortingly held his hand- a kind gesture, filling Minho with sudden affection towards the boy.

"To be honest, we didn't bring you in for questioning." The dark-haired detective spoke, capturing Minho's attention once more.

"We need people who think like you," he continued, communicating with his partner with his eyes, sending him off somewhere-

"And we were wondering if you would agree to an internship, here, with our team."

Minho perked up, surprised. An internship? What for? Why? And how come?

"We investigate hard cases, where people have gone missing or worse. There are a few other teams, this is response crew one. Generally speaking, we are in charge of district nine as well as that part of Seoul's outskirts."

Minho froze, adrenaline starting to pump through his body. "You want me to investigate missing person cases?"

The detective paused, eyes turning sad. "That might be a bit much at this time. Please consider it."

The blond detective returned, carrying a few files which he offered to Minho. "The terms aren't bad, right Innie?"

Minho turned, making eye contact with the boy. "Pretty good. I don't deal with investigations though; I'd rather make coffee." He added.

Reading his terms, they did seem pretty good. The pay was high, and he was promised to get credited over cases he took part in. As for hours, they seemed to be flexible enough for a college student to partake.

What?

Minho stopped, eyes lifting from the paper. Never in his life did he intend to pursue a career as a police detective, hadn’t considered it seriously even. The offer itself had nothing attractive about it, nothing to aid him in his career path and ultimately-

It meant, what happened yesterday?

That will happen again.

Minho felt himself choking up even as he made an effort to settle his breath. These people expected him, they really thought he could go through it again. It hadn't been a day, and still-

What kind of obscure offer was that?

Minho stood, turning away with the intent of leaving that place for good. From the other side, the detective had sighed. "Could you take the papers with you? Think about it?"

It was then that Minho looked up and saw, Chan had been looking at him all that while. He didn't seem judging or tired, although his eyes were red, they were filled with expectations. It seemed that, without knowing Minho that well, he fully believed the other would take and sign those papers, and it hit him that for Chan he was the only real detective at presence.

Had he not taken that request from Ryujin… he wouldn't have found her. He wouldn't have seen it, he wouldn't, and then...

And then she'd have stayed there.

And no one would have ever found her, because no one was looking. Even if Chan was looking, he never would have found her, because none of the information he gave was what led to her and because Chan was not Minho, didn't think like him.

And that wasn't okay.

"Oh?" The tall detective sounded, pleasantly surprised as Minho sat back down and pulled a pen out of the batch near the computer, neatly signing his name in big letters. If he didn't, he knew it would haunt him forever, the thought that he would have left Chelle to lay in a field if given a chance.

"What can I say kid, welcome to the crew."

.

After that, he had learned the names of all the office workers. The detective in charge; Park Jaehyung or Jae, his partner; called Young K on the field, Kang Younghyun normally and Brian by close friends. Their boss, an impressive man named Park Sungjin, would show up here and there but mostly worked odd hours. The head of the emergency call unit who had coincidentally picked up his call was a shy man named Yoon Dowoon, and head officer Kim- the title had Jae wheezing for air, was normally called Kim Wonpil. The intern, referred to as Innie by the others, stood up and formally introduced himself as Yang Jeongin, grin shining brightly enough to draw everyone's eyes to himself.

"For Chelle's case." Young k spoke up, immediately drawing Chan and Minho's attention.

"We found that she had shot herself. Her parents asked to cremate her as soon as we called, but the forensics team decided to get an autopsy anyway. It seems that the time of death was right around the upload of her last post, which makes it a bit difficult to tell if there is anything more to it. We have no reason to suspect that much, either."

As he went on, Chan covered his mouth, tears beginning to spill from his eyes.

"Some things we found a bit strange, but it could be that a wild animal got to the scene before us. Since the art suggests she went there herself, it isn't too far fetched to assume she went out to die."

Minho stared at the ground, hand lifting to pass his fingers through his hair. "Can I call my sister?"

Young k nodded. "Of course. Go ahead."

Minho fished his phone out, staring at Ryujin's contact. He hadn't found it in him to call her last night, but now that its been confirmed he had no other choice.

"Hello! Oppa? How are you?" Ryujin voice sounded, breaking Minho's heart farther.

"Ryu, where are you?" He asked, skipping formalities.

"I'm at home! Did anything happen?" She asked, concerned.

"Please sit down." Minho instructed, stalling.

"Yes? I'm seated. Are you alright? What's going on?" She asked with slight panic.

"I'm at a police station. I found Chelle yesterday, Ryu, she didn't make it." Minho said, hoping to make the pain quick.

"What? What do you mean she didn't make it?" Ryujin asked, confused.

Young k grimaced, gesturing for Minho to pass him the phone. As he did, he elected not to put her on speaker.

"Ryujin? This is Officer Kang speaking. We regret to inform you that my crew has recovered the body of Chelle, twenty-one-year-old, yesterday during late afternoon."

The cries that followed will remain in Minho's memory for the rest of his life, and suddenly he felt thankful to Young K for letting the memory relate to himself, a cop, rather than Ryujin's brother.

.

The ride back home had been uneventful, Young K deciding to leave Minho be in his fatigued state. By now his head had started to pound, making it clear he wouldn't make another night without sleep.

Frustrated, Minho lifted a hand to rub over his face. There it was: the drawing of the field, now colored more fully. It seemed that this particular hallucination would stay with him a while.

"Are you okay?" Young k asked, worried but not overbearing. No, he wasn't okay- but that was a private issue.

"As okay as I can be." He replied, hoping to end it at that. Young k nodded, full focus back on the road.

.

That night's sleep had been broken, Minho waking up every thirty or less minutes from vivid nightmares he couldn't fight off. By morning it felt as if his head was split in two, and he couldn't imagine attending his classes for the day. Instead he stayed in, arm thrown over his eyes in despair. He will get through this, he better.

Soon, for sure- he will get to sleep. Right?

Deciding to at least fix himself up, Minho stood up and took off his shirt as a start. Walking over to the bathroom sink, he brushed his teeth lazily for a while and checked the dark circles under his eyes. Next, he took his good cleanser and foamed it, spreading it on his face before washing it off. Toweling off the right side of his face, he could read big letters written on a whiteboard.

Example number one: the post-impressionistic art of Vincent Van Gogh

Notable works: Wheat Field With Crows, Starry Night, Sunflower On A Vessel, The Potato Eaters.

Background: Born in 1853, Van Gogh has been traveling for most his life, finding inspiration in different places and subjects. Van Gogh had famously suffered from prolonged psychotic episodes that were reflected heavily in his art, resulting in him taking his own life on 1890.

Minho blinked, faced back with nothing but his reflection. He picked up the dropped towel, a striking thought sending shivers down his spine.

There was no way, was there?

Jogging back to his bedside, he picked up his phone with shaking hands before typing the painter's name into the search bar. Changing his mind, he deleted it- he'd be out of his mind to think that a hallucination of his could be of importance. This was a result of his mind playing tricks, nothing more, and he should remember that. Hold on to reality, don't confuse it with illusion.

The illusions, he thought, might be worsening after all.

Turning back to finish what he started, Minho picked out his contact lens and stripped the rest of the way, stepping into a warm relieving shower. However, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched- not disturbingly so, but somehow reassuringly. He stared at air, reminding himself that the bathroom had no windows and trying to empty his head.

On the other end of the bathroom, the mirror had fogged up.

When done, Minho threw on a hoodie and joggers, deciding to go on a run despite his exhaustion. Staying here, he though, would do him no good.

It was late noon when his phone rang, Jae calling him up to the station. Everything had progressed so fast, But Minho figured it was a better pace for coping rather than dwelling on each unfortunate development in his life.

Fortunately, he had been near the station at that point, having refused to return to the stifling apartment after his Jog. As he ran there, he was comforted once again by the feeling of normalcy- the couples, children and teenagers roaming the streets with no fear. Soon, he swore. Soon he'll recover and feel as unbothered as they do, as he used to feel.

Once at the station Minho was confused to see Chan once more, seated on the waiting chair as he had last time. Rather than greeting him or even glancing his way at the sound of the door closing, the blond seemed occupied with daydreams. Following his gaze, Minho figured he was probably fixated on nothing in particular, seeing as it fell on the unexciting sight of Jeongin watering some flowerpots by the windowsill.

"Hello to you too." Rang Jae's voice from where he was standing at the start of the corridor. Minho turned, realizing he had completely ignored the man earlier.

"Hello hyung. How are you?" He asked calmly, hoping to sooth the other's anger, that he hadn't realized was non-existent.

"If you talk politely to Jae, he's going to grow a bigger ego." Warned a smooth voice that entered behind Minho, softly closing the door behind him.

"Officer Kim!" Minho called, smiling at the man he recognized as his savior during what was arguably the most scarring experience in his life. At the title the man smiled, and Minho could swear he saw flowers bloom around him for added effect, a bright halo shining around his head like a real-life saint sent by god himself.

"I heard you've joined team one! That's very impressive. I'll have you know they're the best of the best, you can learn a lot by interning here with them. That and I'm glad you seem to be better, I kept worrying about you, you know."

Minho's eyes warmed, turning glossy. That was a very cool thing to say, which was probably what warranted Jae to speak next.

"You say that and then pretend to be some hero. You're just Wonpil, resident snake." He commented, eyes squinting with pretend annoyance. Ah, Minho noted. So, they are friends.

A small rustling of Jeongin squeezing past Jae into the hallway averted Minho's attention back to Chan, who still hadn't spoken a word. Comically, it seemed, his gaze followed the intern.

"Chan?" Minho asked, slight amusement sneaking into his voice. Chan sighed, moving his gaze to the floor. It seemed that he had been quite out of it, and Minho suddenly wondered if Chan had it any better, or if he too was unable to sleep like himself.

"Chan!" he tried again, this time snapping the elder out of his trans.

"Minho? Hello! How long have you been standing there? Hyungs too?" He asked, visibly flustered.

"You'd be surprised." Jae chuckled, quickly correcting himself to lessen the blow,

"Not too long, don't worry. I get like that too when I work."

Chan hummed, marking the end of the discussion. Accepting that fact, Jae had instead picked up his explanation of the relevant topic at hand.

"Chan, since you're here as Dowoon's volunteer, I expect you to take responsibility and show us we can count on your help. You two won't go through the same materials, obviously, since detectives in training don’t correspond with call receptors at all, but since Dowoon is busy I agreed to take you in for the general introduction to the law system. I assume Minho doesn't need this sort of thing?"

Minho shook his head, processing the new information. Then, Chan came to volunteer at the emergency call center? That sounded impressive. As for training, at least, his college classes would be of some use.

"Great. To make a point, I am also busy- and I'm going to be busier with Minho from now on. Please ask Jeongin for help if it's anything basic, he knows his way around better than maybe half the newly hired cops, even if he says he wants no part of it."

After the short disclaimer, Jae made way for a closet at the end of the room. Unlocking it smoothly, he pulled out some neat files to lay on the table. Turning to a shorter cabinet on the other end of the room, he struggled with the lock numbers, eventually asking Wonpil for help. When they did crack it open, it made a rusted sound- creaking and opening painfully with force. Pulling out a thick, heavy book from the bottom, Jae sneezed with feeling- erupting a tall cloud of the dust that gathered on top of it.

"Jesus." He commented, wiping his nose. Figuring out the outcome, Minho stifled a laugh as the taller dumped the dusty book unceremoniously into Chan's arms, causing the other to stagger a bit.

"Good luck." Minho mouthed, earning a nose scrunch in return. It was essential to find pleasure in the little things in life, such as being spared of having to read that monstrous fossil and getting to watch Chan suffer through it instead.

"Get started on that, then. Minho, come take a look." Jae instructed, Wonpil sending Chan a look full of sympathy.

And so, it begun.

.

Over the past week Minho had gotten used to the reduced amount of sleep he was getting, returning to his classes and working as earnestly as ever. After classes ended on some days, he would pay a visit to the station, where training went by surprisingly fast and without an issue. At night, he would still fail to rest for over forty minutes at a time- but that was sure to get better, wasn't it?

Before he knew it, life settled back in a routine.

Entering the office, Minho sighed at the sight of Chan, staring dreamily at Jeongin's back. That weird habit of his had started to turn less spontaneous, everyone noticed- yet collectively decided not to address it. Looking over to Jeongin, the boy had probably noticed as well, judging by the soft blush spreading onto his ears.

"Minho! Good, I have a lot to show you today." Young k welcomed, walking out of the hallway and over to the table they always used. As Minho looked over, he noticed Jae was present as well, although he seemed to be in a sour mood.

"We talked for a while and decided to hand you some cold and ongoing cases to read. Personally I find closed cases a little boring, and we don't want you to try and adopt our own thinking patterns as guidelines -creativity is important, it's why you're here-, so I vetoed we won't give those to you."

Minho nodded, sitting down and accepting the folder Young K offered. "These are some girls and boys who have gone missing, we hadn't found helpful leads on them since."

At the numerous pictures, Minho's anxiety peaked. "So many?" he asked in petrified shock, earning a deeper frown from Jae.

"It's more often than it seems that people are reported missing. A larger number of people we have found successfully, safe and sound, and a smaller number were not as lucky. All in all, we experience many more successful investigations than futile ones, but remember that cold cases gather over time, and some of these are still in the process of investigation."

Minho swallowed, looking over pictures. There was one girl in particular who slightly resembled Ryujin, whose image he had to put away quickly before his mind got to make that into brand new nightmare fuel.

"You don't have to choose by face," Young k intervened, taking away the pictures before farther scarring could be caused.

"We can choose one for you. What do you say?" He offered, looking to Jae at the lack of reply from Minho.

Jae sighed, expression signaling that he was less than pleased to face Minho with the cases, and Minho wondered if he was touchy over sharing what he ultimately failed to crack. After a moment Jae had fixed his attitude, pulling an unusually thick file from the closet and slamming it next to the folder.

"This girl, her case has been cold for four weeks, making eight weeks in total since she had gone missing. If you have any insight on the matter," he paused,

"Please report to me. I've been working on her since the day she went missing."

.

Reading the files for a while, Minho had eventually requested to take them home. At his request, Young K beamed with pride- telling him that of course he could, under the condition that he takes care not to damage them.

That night he had spent reading. Min-ra, seventeen-year-old; no enemies, no behavioral issues, no dating history. A happy girl to all who knew her, confident and comfortable in her own skin. Independent, she would spend some nights attending high school parties and sleeping over with minimal concern from her parents. As such, she hadn't been reported missing until 34 hours of silence.

Minho switched through pictures, saddened at a pretty selfie the girl took by a window and posted online the night before. The view had felt familiar, similar to the one from his own room, and he wondered if she too liked to sit next to her window and watch the cars drive on occasion.

From the window Minho could see a main road, littered with pubs and restaurants whose signs have been lit beautifully in preparation for the night crowd. By whim he had looked up her address- she lived in the other end of the district with both her parents, a little sister and two cats. Relieved, he looked up a map anyway, and quickly noticed a detail that piqued his interest.

Looking at the map, the kid's house was located in a family friendly apartment building block near a wide road that seemed easy to drive on to reach her place. However, said road only split from the main road a considerable distance away from the apartment, and made a few inconvenient twists that could prolong the way for any vehicle by about ten minutes.

Tracing the channels with his fingers, Minho noticed that a straight distance towards the main road led to a convenient bus stop, and immediately concluded that the alleys connecting the two could easily serve as a shortcut. At that realization, Minho's blood froze, and he hoped to be wrong on his developing theory.

A closer look had provided farther support. For a convenient shortcut, a person would have to pass in an alley that went a short distance behind one of the main road's clubs. Breath hitching, Minho threw on a pair of shoes and ran down to start his car, not minding that he was still in sweatpants and a tee, ignoring the fact it had been four AM and that he could possibly be faced with the drunk crowd himself. Blood searing in his ears, he couldn't cease in his movement until he stood there, dark alleys curving into a spot for large waste containers.

Picking his phone, he numbly dialed Jae's number, hoping the other would pick up.

"Minho? Do you have any idea what time it is? What are you doing awake-" Jae ranted, exposing the fact he hasn't been sleeping either.

"Hyung, I'm sorry but, you need to get over here." Minho choked breathlessly. In front of him stood a huge garbage container, filled to the brim with trash that clearly hadn't been vacated for at least two months. The scent coming off the pile had been so horribly and sickingly sweet, that Minho didn't have to guess anymore. To make himself clear, he rephrased: speaking with his shirt over his nose.

"The girl, your cold case- I found her, she died. I texted you the address, so please be quick hyung."

.

Jisung hummed, finishing up a work he had started a week former and signing with a HAN at the edge. Depicting water had always been a bit hard, but the image was so vividly burned into his mind that he couldn't help it. Pastel art of a foggy bathroom mirror showcasing the torso and upward of a showering man, face blurred by steam- it was so beautiful he could cry.

Checking the time, Jisung wasn't even surprised to find that he stayed up till near four AM painting again- that much was normal and happened fairly often. Stretching and rubbing his left eye, he left a trail of color on his cheek at the sudden new imagery of a club at night. Rolling his shoulders, he sighed and set out a new canvas; it's not like he had an intention to sleep tonight anyway.

#fried fusilli

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