SUNSHINE RIPTIDE

( ... )

he knows it’s rather late to receive visitors, the moon rising over the arms of trees, but patience has never been one of his strong-suits, so when he knocks on the door, he expects an answer straight away and becomes nervous as the seconds tick by. he knows there’s life inside the rooms beyond, but whether they will approach or not is another question.

     paint in hues of yellows and red always covers his hands, all kinds of books sprawled on the floor of a studio apartment, canvases of every size drying, propped on windows and walls. the walls are a brighter colour than the windows, of all which are covered in black, so that no ray of sunshine enters the apartment. ilseong had wished at times to see the view outside, imagined it day and night how the light would play a trick on the leaves, the flowers that only begin to bloom. as he is now, going outside at daylight is never a choice — one that he has accepted his entire life. besides the very few occasions he does go out, he's basically a hermit — groceries coming to his doorstep, a maid cleaning the place every two weeks, and he orders almost anything online. there is no need to go out, not that he would have the choice to in most cases.

     most of his days pass like this: he wakes up sprawled up on the bed, not even knowing which time it is, if not for the clock hung up on the wall. it's an open place, bed almost in the middle of the flat, so that he can't be lazy and doze off on the couch after getting tired. his parents did it on purpose, or so he thinks — making it optimal for him to spend every waking hour painting, drawing, cutting pieces of newspapers to recreate what he desires the most. there are too many canvases, some already done — some that he hated so much that are facing the wall in the storage room upstairs. many others are here and there. propped up against the kitchen counter, in his atelier, the rack for them filled completely. and some of them are next to his bed in case the inspiration hits. therefore the floor is always some kind of colour — when he's in a frenzy to get up an paint, there's nothing that can stop him, not really.

     it's usually those bouts of inspiration that results in what he can call his best work. liking his own art comes slowly, reluctantly, but there are pieces that he's fond of himself. and some of them are in a museum downtown, the curator coming every once in a while to talk with him, to see if there's anything else she can showcase. it's something new, his works being shown to a wider audience — but as every artist, he revels in his work being adored, seen- perhaps even understood. he always paints the same thing after all, that fascination of his that never went away, of the grand source of light; the sun itself. it's almost painful that he hasn't seen it in such a long time. years. not since he was a child, not since his parents learned out that sunlight wasn't good for him. his skin tends to itch, his head starts to get lighter the more he is exposed to the sun. it's all he wants to portray in his paintings, and in his lowest moments, it leaves him feeling like everything's a hoax. his goal is to paint the beauty, the emotions that the sun, the idea of it gives him — can he do it justice when he can't even see it himself ?

     then again, that same desire destroys those thoughts, spills reds and yellows and oranges onto a palette, makes him pour his heart out to a blank canvas. and the work is always different, depicting another emotion, another longing — sometimes negative, as dark as the sun can be. other times he's taken aback by optimism, the life that sun gives to the entire planet. surrounded by that desire he stands again in front of a canvas, not even knowing what time it is as he paints and paints.

     the knock on the door makes him jump, his eyes darting to the clock almost immediately. his parents always call before they come — and it's too late for the postman or maid. he purses his lips, a frown settles there as he puts the palette down, wipes his hands on the white tee he's wearing, one that is already ruined. a hand pushes his hair back as he makes his way to the door. the man standing in front of him is a complete stranger — but even the sight through the fisheye lens is enough to take his breath away. it's dumb — and he shouldn't really be unlocking the door to strangers. then again, ilseong has always been too curious for his own good. so, a few seconds later, he begins to unlock the door. there are many locks for him to undo, and it takes a few minutes before he turns the knob and opens the door, facing the man in front of him.

the security staff arrives just like they had predicted, when the first punches are thrown and before it can escalate. a man with the size of bear grabs nam by the arms and pulls him off eunsoo. nam allows him to, yelling curses at the other man. after the usual sir, i’ll have to ask you to leave nam is thrown out of the mansion, almost rolling down the front stairs. he yells some more, smoothes his suit and stumbles to the parking area, stopping behind a large van. he grabs a cigarette from his inner pocket and lights it up, then looks at his watch. four minutes and twelve seconds have passed.

they are the fucking greatest.

     his knuckles tingle slightly from the blow, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. the guilt doesn't wash away, not yet, and it probably won't for some time either. it is an act, that much he knows, but nam's a teammate, and despite their differences, despite how often he gets annoyed by the younger's antics — eunsoo does not want him to get hurt. not now. not ever. it's not a new realization, but the reason behind it is hidden behind the guise of them working together. he firmly believes that they are just colleagues, nothing else —-  that's why he picks him so often at undercover missions, just to keep an eye out in case something happens. there isn't that much time to think about it then anyway, his hands clutch the lapels of nam's shirt. the surprise on nam's face only makes him feel worse, though it is neither the time or place to show that. they have to distract the crowd, that's the whole point. and maybe he'll murmur an apology afterwards, tucked away amidst their celebrations of a job well done.

     there's a punch coming his way, and he doesn't dodge it purposely, acting his part as he leans back at the 'supposed' momentum it comes with. he hopes it's further into the night that most people are too drunk to pay so close attention to the details but focus on the anger the duo is portraying, the swears that fall from their mouths. they only need a few more seconds anyway, the whole collision and the aftermath gave them a good starting point. the gasps and murmurs that come from the audience get louder, and it is a good indication that the security staff is on their way. the footsteps come quickly afterwards, a guard pulling nam with more force than eunsoo is comfortable with. though, once again, it's 'fuck you — he started it' that he lets out, rather than an apology. soon after he sees nam escorted out roughly, and with a grimace on his face, he pats his own suit, faking a wince as he touches his jaw. people who had seen nam bump into him with a drink seem to be on his side, but they don't want any further interruption, so he's escorted out as well a while later, from another exit of the huge mansion.

one word writing prompts – accepting

45. love

sometimes nam thinks about the life he left behind.

he had a family, he had friends and maybe a future career as currator at a museum. he was the kid who was going places, the smart one who had such a bright future. dropping out from college, leaving his family and friends behind seemed such a stupid idea, something only an entitled brat like him would do. you will regret this and will come back was the last thing his father told him before hyukjae disappeared.

sometimes he misses his old life, especially when things are not good. when he had to run away and hide accross the world nam could only think about his mother; if he died would she ever know her son was killed in some ditch by some low level gang member? would she be surprise at all? it’s a very artist thing to do, and you’re an artist my dear, she always said that.

and sometimes, sometimes nam doesn’t miss it at all.

most of those have to do with eunsoo. the way his leader looks to the sky when they are sitting like this, side by side at the terrace of their place, looking at the sky because they are lame. the way eunsoo paces around the room when he is planning something, the way eunsoo drinks his coffee in the morning, the way his skin shivers when nam kisses his neck.

“you were the one who wanted to come here and now you’re staring at nothing.” eunsoo’s voice surprises him. the older looks away from the sky for a second to give nam a judging look before looking back at the stars. “what are you thinking about?”

most times nam never takes things seriously. he jokes and laughs and teases. this time, however, he is serious. “you.” and there is something in the way he speaks because eunsoo turns back to him and nam smiles. they are already so close, hips brushing and arms almost touching, but it’s not enough for nam. he leans in and kisses eunsoo. it’s soft and calm and when they pull back he rests his forehead against eunsoo’s.

“nam” eunsoo’s voice is a whisper and nam knows that tone, knows what the other wants to ask. the older man never calls him by his name, it’s always nam, sometimes jagi if he is drunk. never hyukjae, because hyukjae was the kid who was studying story of art and who would have never met eunsoo, let alone worked with him.

nam pulls back enough to look at eunsoo. he had the perfect life before, he had the best life anyone could ask for, and yet he wasn’t happy, not like he is now, looking at eunsoo, an unfinished painting on his atellier as they prepare another heist. his life never made more sense than it does now.

“i love you.” it’s nam’s time to whisper, but he knows eunsoo heard him because of the way his eyes wide and he blushes. no artwork in the world has ever looked this beautiful. nam smiles and pulls eunsoo into another kiss.

( ... )

“i am gaia, goddess of the earth and all that lives within it.” she trails a hand down his sharp jaw, expecting flowers to sprout from his skin, but soon finds that her powers have no effect in this vessel. she quickly pulls away, continues. “i haven’t the slightest idea how either of us ended up in this situation, and i would appreciate it if you did not address me in such a tone.” from her lips, a smile blooms. “i now ask the same of you. your lack of manners would have me to believe you are of hades’ domain. am i correct in assuming so?”

     it's fair to say that thanatos is not in a good mood, not that he usually is whenever put out of his element. however, this is an exceptionally annoying situation, which has pissed him off very, very much. he's much too accustomed to his place in the underworld, his power there, killing the mortals who have filled their time. being the god of death comes with its perks and with the fact that he isn't well liked, but that's something thanatos doesn't care much. but this, someone daring to do lock him in a mortal's body ? it's not something that has happened before, it’s not something that he thought it could ever happen.

     he’s practically fuming when he barks out those questions, his entire figure tense, threatening to tower over the girl in front of him. the lack of clothes does not surprise him as much as her courage does, that a mere mortal is so relaxed when speaking with him. then again, he has to remind himself that he is trapped in a body, not the almighty god he is known for. her words make him falter, the anger on his face morphing into confusion as he listens. the finger on his jaw makes the previous annoyance come to surface again, his eyes burning with flame as he sees it as a show of disrespect. however, he must acknowledge that she can be telling the truth ? maybe ? if so, they seem to be cursed by the same god, but why only them ? why not someone else  ?

( ... )

so there she sat, in a pretty, pale, pink thing that her mother hung surreptitiously in front of her wardrobe ( it was beautiful and all, but it was not something she would wear by choice ), harshly aware that the wine she was served would probably need a few months of allowance saving if she was about to buy it for herself. son gaeul is out of her depth, for once. the fearlessness that she had adopted so readily in any other imaginable situation failing to protect her heart from it’s stuttering beat, for despite her having no hand in the decision: she was waiting for her fiancé, the future king of the nation, and the man who perhaps had the true power of saying no to the whole situation. 

perhaps he would be reasonable, a man whose heart has been stolen by another and one with enough engrained manners to come inform her in person that the engagement was not going to move forward. a girl could certainly hope, 

     last few weeks, taesung's days had been filled with conversations with his parents, advisors of the crown family, to go over the details again and again. as the oldest child in his family, he knew he always had more responsibility than his sister — he always worked hard, wanting to become a successful politician, not only be the prince but someone who could actually make a change in the country. after his politics degree, he began to work on his masters in international relations, wanting to learn more, make healthy relationships with other countries. it wasn't rare that he went to trips with his father, joined him at dinners — he was almost popular if he could say so himself, well-liked within that crowd. he had his way with words, knowing where to begin and where to stop, very well aware that most of these royalty members liked to be praised — taesung had grown up amidst all of it, and he liked it as well. it was something he genuinely wanted to do, not because he was forced into it, but because he was fond of it.

     this time though, maybe the first time ever — he was on bad terms with his father, not liking at all that he was forced into marrying someone he did not know. son gaeul. only a name, and not even a face he can put on it. taesung wasn't strictly a romantic at heart, but marriage wasn't something he ever considered, not for the foreseeable future. to realize that his parents had been planning this for so long, making decisions for his future in such a way — it pissed him off very much. yes, he would do anything for his country, for the crown family, but this, it was too much. wasn't his studies enough ? did he really need to marry someone he did not know ? it was all politics, he knew, and he cursed himself mentally too- he should have known it would come to this at some point, but perhaps he had pushed it away due to the absurdity of it.

     no matter how much he objected their decision, in the end, he had to go through with it. ‘for the sake of our country, taesung, you have to do this.’ that was exactly why he parked in front of the restaurant, expecting to meet many other people, alongside his own fiancée. clad in an expensive suit, taesung expected the night to be similar to those he went to with his dad. yet when the waiter lead him to a table, he was surprised that there was only a girl sitting there, no one else. he was only two minutes early, and everything became clear much to easily. "they lied. again. no one else is coming." the words were spoken out loud, much to himself than anyone else, annoyance so very clear in his tone. taesung did his best to push the anger down, shaking his head, but not managing to get rid of the frown on his lips.

( ... )

“what i can do for you, is remove myself from your presence this very moment. i will see you tomorrow morning, heo sungjin. have a good day still.”

with those simple words, he turns around on his heels and puts himself into motion to the exit of the goddamn mansion. he knows starting off on bad blood is not a good way for the several months to go, but then again trying to keep all of his contempt inside isn’t either. and he’s sure the kid would have made his life living hell whether or not he’d spoken his mind first.

     the frown on sungjin's face only deepens as he listens hyunwoo pointedly call him out and reject his offer. it sounds like a bribe because it is one, but it's not something that failed him before. he usually only needs to up the amount to get things done. this time, however, they don't even get that far before the offer is shut down, which makes him even more displeased with the whole situation. the man seems to have a stick up his ass, and sungjin's very annoyed that he's going to have to have him around for the foreseeable future. he curses his dad, the whole company — whoever is making those threats, because he does not want to have a babysitter, he is twenty-three; a grown-up who can take care of himself.

     however, he's at a loss for words when the other continues, sounding very much done, maybe not as much as sungjin is, but it's certainly clear that hyunwoo isn't too pleased either. not that sungjin cares, the bodyguard rejected his offer - bribe, and insulted him — so the boy is pissed, to say the least. much to his embarrassment, his mouth opens and closes, not knowing what to say before the figure leaves his sight promptly, not giving him a moment to speak. it's not like he had something to say — but he likes having the last word.

     with a groan, he plops down on the couch and takes the puppy, putting it on his lap before he starts to pet it. apparently, sungjin's going to need to think more for a better plan if he's going to get rid of this bodyguard, or any other his father finds for him. hyunwoo seems too stubborn to put off, but he's sure the man can get bored of his antics. after a few more minutes in thought, he grins — a tiring day full of shopping will certainly annoy the other, and who knows, maybe hyunwoo will be so bored that he either quits or takes sungjin's offer. both will work, he doesn't mind.

( ... )

“i’m fine.” hyosang finally spoke, but the way his teeth gritted together was a first indication that he was lying. he wasn’t fine, on the contrary, he was in pain and so he was every day. but he wasn’t one to complain, his years of training having taught him that every outward expression of pain or grief was a sign of weakness. so instead hyosang nodded his head towards the door, trusting that the young linguist would catch onto the underlying meaning. hyosang was too ashamed to face his old partner, the man he in many ways still considered to be his best friend, but that didn’t mean had he stopped worrying for him. “so, how is he? is he okay? does he look healthy?”

     the reply made him even more confused, his head tilting to the side as he got inside and closed the door after him. hiding ? from what ? kaito was sure it wasn't a dangerous situation, for they were in a well-guarded headquarters — it had to be something else. hyosang seemed... bitter, sad. and that realization was enough to pull the linguist's heartstrings. it wasn't a secret to himself that he was fond of the older, something that could be described as a crush, maybe. it didn't mean he was going to do anything, however — they were partners first, and kaito was careful, he wouldn't do anything to make the other upset, or put an awkward barrier between them.

     yet, kaito was worried about the other, more so than he first left the offices. he knew the agent was grumpy more often than not, but this was obviously different. something was wrong, and he wasn't too sure if he could help this time. he walked towards the desk before he sat on it rather than a chair, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged. it seemed to be more comfortable than sitting on a chair opposite to the agent. he was closer, but with a proper distance between them nonetheless.

     an eyebrow went up as the plate was pushed his way, but he decided to ignore it for the time being, there was a more pressing matter at hand. propping his elbow on his knee, he rested his face on his hand, staring at hyosang, trying to figure out what the other was thinking from looking at him alone. kaito was smart, but probably not that smart to read his mind, unfortunately. the nod towards the door was a good clue however, and his previous doubts seemed to be true. it had to do with the famous pyo minki, someone hyosang had worked with before. from the little information kaito had dug up, he knew they were on a mission together, possibly the one that ended hyosang's career on the field.

     the way the other seemed to grit his teeth, the way his features tensed up as he spoke — they weren't lost on kaito at all, only increasing his concern. however, voicing those probably wouldn't do any good, so he opted to answer the questions instead for the time being. "pyo minki's... fine. people are excited to see him. he looked healthy, yeah." a small nod followed his words, searching for reactions on hyosang's face, while kaito wanted to hug and take away the pain that the older was trying to hide.

( ... )

he felt both more comprehensive as more confused all at the same time. in this moment realizing how much he had missed jiho and how distant they had been in the last couple of weeks. he wanted nothing more but to curl his arms around jiho’s waist and hold him for a while as they talked, something they hadn’t done in a while.

feet shuffled closer in jiho’s direction, but the look in the other’s eyes and the harshness that had accompanied the words as they had rolled out of jiho’s tongue were enough to prevent manhui from fully approaching him.

“talk about what?”

     jiho held it in for too long — he knew he did. a part of him had been foolishly hoping it would end, that he was making everything up. it wasn't so obvious at first after all, it was the little things, manhui ending up late a few times, which was normal when he thought of it without context. but when he added everything up together, the other not showing up at all sometimes, the half-assed answers that sounded too much like lies, the secrets... the fashion designer simply couldn't take it anymore.

     the fact that he was up all night, thinking and putting everything together probably didn't help either. he had high expectations for the night he had planned, and when it fell through, jiho was thoroughly disappointed, sad. so much that he didn't care he wasn't looking at it all too rationally anymore. all he knew was that he was hurt, and this was happening way too often lately. after everything he had been through in the last relationship, it was the last thing he expected from manhui, but lack of sleep and everything together, it felt like manhui was doing exactly what jiho was fearing.

     "a lot. we need to talk about a lot — because i — i can't take this anymore." the words left his lips in a rush, his hands balled into his fist at sides. it hurt to look at manhui, the man he still loved so much, his best friend, his lover. he took a step back when the other began to approach him. jiho didn't want that closeness between them again, afraid that it would break his whole stance to have manhui's hands on his shoulders. no, jiho had made up his mind — he wasn't going to forget and forgive that easily.

( ... )

there was a soft knock on the door, subin’s lips curling up almost instantly and revealing another one of his gummy smiles as he realized who stood waiting in front of the coffee shop. he dropped to cloth on the table, jogging up to the door and unlocking it to let minsoo in.

“you came” subin chimed, releasing a relieved breath before realizing what he had said and coloring a deeper shade of red. trying to hide the change in his expression by turning on his heels and walking to the counter. “had a busy day?”

     the smile on subin threw his way was enough to widen the one on minsoo's face, one hand going up to give him a little wave. a part of him felt bad to annoy the barista after what was probably a very busy day — he could guess the younger was on his feet all day, tending to annoying customers with complicated orders. minsoo, on the other hand, worked at a big office with a view, he was very high up in the chain, enough to come and leave whenever he pleased. it wasn't hard to guess that subin's situation was much more different than his, but the part of him that wanted to see him won over the concerned part for the time being. he promised himself that his visit would be short if the other wished — and plus, maybe he could help him close up too.

     the fact that the other opened the door quickly, and seemed excited to see him — minsoo was over the moon easily. the flush on the boy's cheeks was also so very endearing, so much that it made him feel giddy inside. you're too far gone, minsoo. a voice inside his head explained it almost immediately after that, and the ceo managed to hush it before stepping inside. "i did ! i hope i'm not interrupting anything though —" he was quick to add, not wanting to make the other feel like he had to take minsoo in. the last thing he wanted was to cause any trouble to subin.

     "aah yes, it was busy, i couldn't stop by in the afternoon, forgive me." the words fell from his lips easily, words sincere as he looked into subin's eyes. if he had enough time to leave the building, he would be at the café immediately, but work was too busy for him to squeeze in twenty minutes. it was his assistant who picked up the coffee that day, still from the same café, but subin didn’t know that of course. "it was a shame — but i wanted to see you still." minsoo thought about telling he missed the coffee instead, but that would be a lie wouldn't it ? he just hoped it wasn't too forward of him, one hand going up to fix his hair.

( ... )

“i am not walking to the villa in this kind of weather. hell no.” she mumbles to herself, fingers rigidly tapping her phone’s screen. if it wasn’t for the chill that began to creep up to her bones she would be angry texting at the moment. they better have a car to take her to the villa, preferably with heater. because there’s no way she can think properly if her brain is halfway frozen like this.

but then, the figure she sees the moment she lifted her gaze from her phone might have caused it to freeze on the spot.

“…j-juwon?”

     it's been almost a decade since juwon was thrown into this life, and even though he hasn't been actively hunting for so long, it's been that long since the incident with his family. he knows that monsters aren't a made up fantasy. he's all too familiar with blood that doesn't wash away from his hands, numerous psychologists telling him he made it all up. his family's corpses were always there when he closed his eyes as a child — and that image still haunts him to this day at times.

     almost five, six years now, from the moment he left the orphanage, he began to go after supernatural creatures, hoping to get his revenge, learn more about the unknown, help those in need. juwon a few years ago would fight for the fact that partners were a must, everyone needed someone to watch their backs, someone you can trust in this world that seemed too dark. but people change, and juwon learned nothing hurt more than to be betrayed by someone you trusted most. and as he copes with everything else, he buried it down deep, throwing the few belongings he had in a backpack before leaving for good.

     however, to say he was unfazed would be a lie, it wasn't a scar that healed quickly — or perhaps at all. he simply began to work alone, not wanting to trust anyone but himself. there were a few people he could ask for help here and there, but even then, juwon learned to be cautious. caring for people was a weakness after all, especially considering what they did every day. trust wasn't something he was willing to give away so easily, so he kept it to himself, continuing to search the newspapers for new cases, and doing his best to get rid of as many monsters as possible.

     and that's the exact reason he's sitting on a bench, bundled up in his coat as he looks at the map in front of him. after riding the car up to the empty mountain, it seems like he has to walk to the villa, more of a hike than anything else. getting lost in this horrid weather would possibly be deadly — and dying of hypothermia would be pretty embarrassing after everything he has gone through.

     his sole attention on the map with a pencil in his hand, he's suddenly on guard when he hears the noise of the cable car. no one should be there, especially after the numerous stories were people went missing without any explanation. juwon stands up and stares at the door, waiting for the figure to approach him.

     when he hears her voice, he realizes no one could prepare him for this. out of all the places in the world, not there, not on that damn mountain haunted by god knows what. his face tightens to something unrecognizable ( or so he hopes ), his figure tensing immediately. he was the one to run away, and it's been so long since they have seen each other. his chest constricts, but he ignores it completely, staring at her for too long before he finally speaks.

( ... )

it’s a straightforward mission. if ren listens to instructions well, it’ll be a straightforward mission, but by general rule of thumb, it won’t be. just a quick pick-and-drop for the agency in the warehouse district with probably enough time left for ren to drop by the headquarters to pick up a piece of tech he’d recently completed and is incredibly proud off. “the drop off point should be around the corner.” luojie checks the cams, squints into the screens. “then take exit c out, in the south wing. after that, i need you to head back to th—”

gunshot sounds. he hears them ring out through his earpiece and his heart stutters in his chest.

shit.

     although the mission for the day is a bit mild for ren's taste — it's still not too bad. he thrives on the field, loves the adrenaline that comes with it, the rush, five-second decisions, jumping headfirst into danger, shooting bad guys as he does so - all of it makes him love his profession even more. he would much prefer being in another country, pretending to be someone else, infiltration, breaking in — all the fun stuff, however, he knows there's time for good things and ... duller things, and being in a warehouse district in seoul isn't one of the most thrilling missions he had. which is fine, he knows it's not always gunshots and danger, there's paperwork too, filling out reports —  which has to be the worst part of the job. if ren's anywhere besides the office, he's content, just like he is that day as he navigates through the empty alleyways.

     the voice in his ear is familiar, and even though luojie's words tend to chide him more often than not, ren finds himself always enjoying it. other tech agents in the past, they always annoyed him to no end, the never-ending orders, their monotone voices, frustrated yells. so much that he used to turn the comms off at times ( that gave him many lectures back at the headquarters, so he doesn't do that anymore. ) but luojie is different, and needless to say, he is his favorite. plus, if he can say so himself, they work well together, many of the missions are a success, besides the small bumps here and there. it's a reason why they get paired so often. and even though ren doesn't care all that much, he's pretty sure the other techies aren't too fond of him.

     he grins at luojie's words before taking cover behind the fence, checking to see if there is anyone else around. the warning doesn't get to him at all, but the next one does, making him even smugger if that’s possible. "i hope that's a promise —" the flirty tone is there, as it ever is with these two, something ren always falls back on with luojie. he likes it too, but it is never the right time to think of why exactly.

     the agent continues to walk forward, turning around the corner to see a guard aiming at him. it's his reflexes than anything else as he takes cover quickly, his gun in his hand in mere seconds. a ‘hmpf’ leaves his mouth as he waits for the guards to pause to reload their guns — then he runs across the alley to take cover behind a dumpster, firing a few shots as he does so. only one hits their mark ( or so he suspects ), and he crouches, bullets ricocheting on the metal lid as he waits. "it's not my fault this time — " ren lets out at first, not too concerned about the goons still shooting at him. he knows luojie's already clicking away on his computer, and he has enough ammo to handle this, probably.

( ... )

“Kitae, come look.” Chanwoo said. “This is the third robbery this month, right? It’s happened here, here and here.” He said, pointing it out on the map of their city. “It’s all basically around this area, near this street. This one is just a few blocks away and this one too.” he continued on. “He doesn’t seem to be going far from this area, which means he’ll probably not go far with his next hit either.” he nodded, trying to understand as he continued to explain. “Which just means, he’ll probably be going to this convenience store across street in a few days.” Chanwoo said, circling the said convenience store and grinning up at Kitae for approval. “What do you think?”

     at the comment that came from the other detective, kitae bit back a grumble, ready to talk about the movie as long as it was needed to prove how amazing it was. however, chanwoo was already a few steps ahead of him on the case, so he kept it quiet, listening to the rest of the questioning with the convenience store owner. he took mental notes ( not on paper because those were for losers ), paying his utmost attention to the words, which ended up to be not much at all. besides the possible lead on the perp's height, kitae had nothing and chanwoo's words were enough to make him squint, his lips pulling to a frown. "well — now you told me all of that — we are on the same book aren't we ! or page — whatever —"

     when chanwoo began to investigate the inside of the convenience store, kitae decided to do the same, picking another route between the aisles, trying to see if there was anything else that seemed out of the ordinary. it wasn't a high-end store, which meant that not everything would be a tell. for example, the badly put chips on the racks were hardly any indication that they were stolen. and kitae decided not to annoy the owner anymore, so continued to walk around, hoping to stumble upon some part of the costume or anything alike.

     at the other's exclamation, he made his way towards him, his height giving him advantage to look over his shoulder before he stepped to the side. his eyes on the map, he followed and listened to chanwoo carefully, his immaturity gone for the shortest of moments as they were talking about the case. when another store was circled on the map he let out a loud grumble, because yes, all of it sounded very rational— which meant it was chanwoo's solve if the perp showed up there. "yes — yes that makes sense, fine ." of course, he wasn't cheerful about it, chanwoo had solved it before him after all. "we can do a stake-out in front of the shop then." another childish gesture followed before he made it outside with him.