Shopping -- something that Hyuna hadn’t done in quite a long while and that she had been looking forward to all week already. Even if she didn’t have much money on her hands to spend carelessly on just any little accessory that she might love having, but enough to buy something nice that she could enjoy at least. What was the most exciting about today, however, was that she would meet a friend again that she hadn’t seen in a while as well. The girl was, at least in numbers, much younger than Hyuna herself, but that had never really stopped her from hanging with her. Age was just a number anyway.
Taking her bus to her final destination, she eventually arrived, walking toward the building in which the girl she would be meeting was living in. Hyuna was happy for the free time she would be able to enjoy today, for the fact that she didn’t have to worry about the time because she didn’t have any work schedule to attend to, and that she would be able to spend the day with a friend and didn’t have to stay at home alone, sulking over a variety of things; one of them was that her fridge was empty again, but that was a completely different story.
Finally, she rang the door bell and waited, more or less patiently, for somebody to answer. The earlier they left for the city, the longer the afternoon would be.
The clock on the wall reads 10:24 PM. It’s still early, at least by the standards of nightlife in Seoul, and the streets are milling with people. Businessmen stumble away from food stalls, their steps unsteady with the effects of one too many bottles of soju, while students escape cram school and shuffle home in a sleep-deprived daze. The lines queued outside of clubs stretch around the block as the buildings begin to fill.
L drums his fingers against an italian leather armrest, impatient.
His gaze lifts as the door to the suite finally opens. He doesn’t bother to stand and offer a proper greeting.
The newcomer offers no apologies for her tardiness either. She instead crosses the room in three long strides, her heels clicking smartly against the polished floor, the only sound in the room aside from the ticking hand of the clock. The dress she wears showcases her long legs. Objectively, L can see the appeal, knows that the sight would leave most men’s mouth dry.
He feels nothing.
“All the information you need is inside this folder. You’ll be working with one of our girls tonight. She’s still new, so keep a close eye on her. This is her first time working a job like this.” The woman’s gaze is shrewd as she hands over the file, sweeping L from head to toe. “Let me be clear-- she’s no escort. Your job will be to distract the client while she carries out her assignment.”
L accepts the folder without comment. He pulls out the thick stack of papers it holds and skims over the first page with a critical eye. He files away the target’s name and takes a second to memorize his face before flipping to the second page, and then the third. He listens to the woman as she continues to speak with half an ear.
“You will also need to retrieve data from the target’s computer. Use whatever methods you deem fit; just keep an eye on our girl.”
L freezes.
A photo of the new recruit has been included in the information file. The moment that he catches sight of it, he feels his blood run cold. It’s been years since he’s laid eyes on the face beaming up at him from the photo in his hand, but he would recognize this girl anywhere. Yeri.
“Is there a problem?”
He snaps out of it. His entire body flinches with the motion, giving him away before he can even open his mouth to protest. Judging by the woman’s face, it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d found the words to deny it anyways.
“We’re aware of your history together. We hope, however, that you know better than to bring personal feelings into a job.” Her words are a warning. “Are we mistaken, L?”
L’s jaw sets. “No,” he replies, teeth grinding together. He tucks the photo back into the file so that he won’t accidentally crush it in his grip. It takes herculean effort for L to get a handle on the rush of emotions making his pulse pound in his ears. He forcefully pushes the questions he can taste on the back of his tongue aside, knowing better than to expect explanations from the woman in front of him. He won’t admit it, but L is afraid to get an answer to any of them anyways.
He lifts his chin. “Is that all?”
He stands without waiting for an answer. The file containing the target’s information-- and Yeri’s photo-- is carefully tucked beneath his arm. L bows now, though there is nothing respectful about the action, and judging by the twist to the woman’s lips when he rises, she recognizes as much. She still waves him off in dismissal.
L turns on his heel and makes his exit, the sound of his quick steps at odds with the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.
