tw: mentions of non-con

3rd JULY, 2017

[Are you ready?]

I trod over to the beeping toaster, tossing the bread on my plate. My hair still looked like a bird's nest, and my shirt was untucked. "Kind of."

[Astonishing,] Jongho commented over the line, clearly amused. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." The raspberry jam gleamed deliciously as I spread it over the bread. Behind me, the news lady went on about some political catastrophe through the TV screen. I could hardly care less. "What might our smarty pants want from this plebeian today?"

[You must've seen the news.]

My gaze wandered over to the TV for a moment before it was back on my waiting breakfast. I found myself in a cosy place on the couch before digging in. "Why, yes, your majesty. I am looking at it as we speak."

[And what are they showing?]

"Oh, some new rally drama. Now stop beating around the bush. What do you want?"

There was a pause, followed by some shuffling before I heard him again. [Well, it seems that you missed it.]

And there it was, Jongho's classic habit of leaving loose ends. He loved the suspense a bit too much, and we hated it a bit too much. He just never changed, so we got used to his ways.

"Please do the honour of enlightening me."

[Bea's case is now public.]

To anyone else, it may not be a big deal, after all, the general public deserves transparency in every aspect of a murder case to help fuel conspiracies (that mostly are not of much help) and to genuinely beware them. For the investigators, however, it's a different story.

"And whose brilliant idea was it? "

Disclosures are almost always a bittersweet part of an investigation for a team. While it may prevent many future casualties, people knowing too much is never good news. It dampens their reactions to the knowledge that the person they might be talking about is deceased.

[Chris. Bea's cousin. The funeral is at six in the evening.]

But there have always been laws that limited our powers. We cannot keep a victim's body under our responsibility more than twenty-four hours after the autopsy. And in a case like that, if the act of kin-- here, Chris-- requests the disclosure of the case, we get no other choice but to oblige.

I sighed, closing my eyes. "Fucking hell."

[Don't forget to pack your funeral attire. Wouldn't be pleasant for young Huening to show up in his tasteless periwinkle shirt.]

"Haha. Officer Jongho is so funny." Did I mention just how monotonously annoying he was?

~-~-~

"I retrieved information about Bai Jing from the local bank. According to their records, he is a resident millionaire, and according to the public, he is a faceless charity holder."

Nothing is better than a cup of Busan's special tea with some home-baked crackers to munch on while sitting underneath the sky. Even the summer heat had gotten under control, and it felt much more pleasant than two days ago.

I sipped on the warm goodness. Across from me, Yunjin scrolled through her phone. "He has conducted several charity events without even showing up for even one of them. Balls, dinners, shows-- all of it was organized with such grandeur that it'd mesmerize just anyone, and yet no one knew who he actually was."

"Interesting." I mean, that much was pretty obvious. Not everyone has the capability to pay for a stranger's higher education. There was only a slim chance that Bai Jing and Bea could be related. "So, do we know where he lives?"

Yunjin picked up her cup, swirling the beverage inside. "We do. But there's no use of that. His penthouse is locked."

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Not suspicious at all."

"And yet that's not the funniest thing about it all." And then Yunjin leaned a bit closer to me as she whispered, "Remember that car we found near the crime scene? It was registered under this guy's name."

The amusement left my face.

"What?"

~-~-~

"Damn."

I won't deny, hearing so highly of one Bai Jing was enough to raise my expectations to a height. You cannot blame me-- the man literally had so much money that he went around giving tuition fees for university degrees.

"Where happened here?"

My eyes met the couch, its black leather tight over the wooden skeleton with long and rushed tears littering all over the surface. The wallpapers had yellowed and smelled like rotting tunas. A vase was on the floor with no flowers in the vicinity but there was still a discolored patch around it on the carpet. A table with a broken leg or two was splayed over the floor with tattered glass shimmering with the golden light from a fall ceiling.

The penthouse looked like it was hit by a hurricane, or several.

"Well, this is..."

"-Catastrophic? I know, right?"

It honestly did not look like a millionaire's house, but one thing it did look like was a perfectly stereotypical scene of crime. We knew what exactly to do with those.

"Kai, check the upstairs. I'll be searching downstairs."

With an exchanged nod, I obliged the commands, finding a spiral staircase a few feet away from the entrance. It led to a round open corridor with exactly three rooms around, one of their doors slightly ajar. The railings-- embellished with ornate curving designs-- were catching dust of the sticky kinds.

Well, coastal region problems, I guess.

The room with the open door was some sort of a personal theatre, with a projector mounted on top and a desk right beside it that held a perfect outline of a laptop.

The laptop was nowhere to be seen.

Following that, there were two loveseats, all facing the projecting screen, and a brewing station against the side wall. I had to say, Bai Jing's architectural tastes were pretty... extraordinary. Such a modern design paired with South Asian patterns?

Crazy rich idealistic is hard to be matched. It did not even look bad.

The next room was-- to no surprise-- a bedroom with a queen-sized canopy bed in the middle (very middle-aged), two nightstands with lamps on both the sides, some house plants which were still green, others on the verge of dying, and a door which probably led to the bathroom. There was also a drawer of three tiers. The first held some stationary and papers about charity parties, events and other managerial stuff, and-- for some reason-- random coupons of a gay club.

I stared at the coupons, wondering if should consider it evidence or not. I decided on the former.

As I was moving to the second drawer, I heard the clicking of shoes that stopped somewhere near the door of the room. I did not feel the need to check it. "Found anything?"

"The downstair rooms are surprisingly empty, although I did find some documents from Bai Jing's study that may require a review, including his Chinese citizenship. What is your progress?"

I turned to Yunjin, lifting my evidence bag for her. "Do gay club coupons count?"

One of her well-shaped eyebrows shot up. "Well..."

I ignored her, turning back to the drawers as I heard footsteps fading into the corridor. The rest two were pretty much empty with some stationary stuff, some cash, a weird-looking paperweight that held what looked like a religious symbol, and a notepad that had calculations. Just in case, I kept the last two in my ziplock. I headed for the nightstands-- they had one drawer each.

The right one consisted of empty pill bottles-- mostly painkillers-- and a pack of condoms, half of which was empty.

It was soon enough that I found the right drawer jammed. I pulled at it with all I could summon, and yet it refused to budge.

I shook the handle a bit and after several similar attempts, it finally opened.

I completely expected it to be empty, but a thin spiral-bound diary just proved me wrong once again. I sighed at last, taking it out.

Besides a few doodled symbols, it was a pretty ordinary diary with black covers, even looked a bit worn out with chipped edges and all.

I opened to the first page, there was no name whatsoever. I slowly took a place on the bed, turning further.

I froze, my eyes widening.

'-He was so sweet, he even offered to drop me off. Stephanie says that she doesn't trust Kiwon, but I will believe that it's just her jealousy. She has been like that since she moved back to Victoria. I miss the old her sometimes. She was like a sister.-

.
.
.
.

'-Kiwon proposed to me! He said to keep it a secret for now, and that he'd take me to Korea and would help me with college. I wonder what I did in my past life to deserve him. I want him to know just how much I love him-'

.
.
.
.

'-I want to talk to people, okay? I really do. I just don't know how to approach them. Would they think that I'm annoying? I've heard how they treat the biracial ones. Kiwon tells me the stories-'

.
.
.
.

'-So, my health has deteriorated a lot. Maybe it's the water or I'm still not used to Korea, I don't know exactly. I sometimes feel like going back. I miss mom.-'

.
.
.
.

'-I hate Kiwon. I don't know how I fell for his sugarcoated words. He called me names, degraded me, and tried to push me into sleeping with him, even though he knows I'm not ready.-'

.
.
.

'-I am afraid. Kiwon refuses to take me back. He hits me when I tell him I miss home. This feels like a prison that I willingly walked into. Chris asks me every day why I look so tired all the time. He has his own share of complexities, I don't wanna burden myself upon him. Sometimes, I feel like it'd be better if I just disappeared somehow-'

.
.
.
.

'-I haven't gotten my periods yet. It has been three months and I really don't wanna jump to conclusions. I do not remember having any sort of intercourse with Kiwon, or anyone for that matter. I guess I'll get a pregnancy test in-

.
.
.
.

'-I'm pregnant.'

~-~-~

That day, I realised something as I watched Christopher break down in front of Bea's coffin, clinging onto it for dear life as Gowon tried to hold him close while fighting tears herself. I had the nameless diary in my hand, fiddling with the binding aimlessly as I found myself drowning deeper in my own trenches of memories.

When was the last time I was truly happy?

Somewhere along the way, the smiles grew to be more of a mask than an emotion. A minor inconvenience, and you just smile it off, even though your soul is crumbling down little by little.

Smiles cannot be trusted anymore.

I sighed, slumping further on the bench, resting my head on the top of the backrest. At some distance from me, I heard the priest carrying on with the funeral processions. A few of Bea's batchmates were present, and so was the old shop owner under whom Bea used to part-time. Even the other employee was present as well for some reason. I could feel him sneaking glances at me, but his intentions were the least of my concerns.

I realised moping around wasn't gonna get my work done after all. I closed my eyes, trying to gain at least some control over myself before I pushed myself off of the bench. The new evidence was crucial, more so as a new suspect was being introduced into the scene.

Kiwon wasn't a saint, Bea's entries were enough of an indication of that, maybe not a firm proof.

I turned around, sinking my hands into my pant pockets.

I still did not know who the traitor was, and their role in Bea's murder. Time is a crucial element of an investigation, and it was slipping away despite my moments of inactivity. It runs several times faster for an investigator like me, and if I had slacked any further, I would've faced consequences.

The car let out a sound as I unlocked it with a click of a button. I reached for the handle.

"Wait!"

And wait I did, turning my head to the source of that command. I was taken a bit off-guard seeing the part-timer there. The old proprietor had mentioned that the guy was just a replacement for Bea and started working only after she had disappeared without a trace whatsoever.

"Can I help you?"

The guy, I noticed, was a few inches shorter than me, but his body was well-built with wide shoulders, wider than even me. He was panting for his life, bent over as he held his knees. Then he straightened up, giving me a crooked smile. He had a round face, which could be classified as cute and timid, his hair in a buzzcut.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you, sir."

I fully faced him, my eyebrows raised. "Go on."

"Ah..." His eyes skimmed around before it landed back upon me. He leaned into my personal space. "... In private."

I tightened my lips, crossed my arms and leaned against the car. "If you want to talk, do it right here."

His smile somewhat dropped. "But it's important, sir."

I narrowed my eyes. "What's it about?"

"Bea, sir."

"What about her?"

The guy, to my surprise, laughed. "Oh god, are you really trying to pull one of your interrogation tactics?" He continued on for a while, garnering some attention. I had my jaw tight, losing my patience little by little. I wasn't in the mood for any of this.

"Just spit it out, or go your merry way. You are wasting my-"

"It's about Kiwon."

The words died down in my throat. For a second, I wondered if I had heard him wrong, maybe my head was playing games into making me think something I want to hear. For the last two hours, the name 'Kiwon' was running around my thoughts, so that won't be a surprise.

But my expressions must've told a different story because the smirk that curled the guy's lips was mildly discomforting. There's no other way, he must've known something.

I held my breath, looking behind him where all the funeral attendees were preparing for their leave, probably for Chris Bang's home as mentioned on the event card for the dinner.

"Alright then, where do you suppose we should go?"

The brat had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Oh but sir, I won't be selling out this info for free. You know the times, right? You don't even get water for free."

I gritted my teeth, trying to burn him through my eyes if that was even possible. What was he so narcissistic about? Laughing like a goddamned maniac on a fucking funeral. "What?"

It had been hardly three minutes since I actually started talking to him, and he had already managed to become the bane of my existence.

He chuckled, and then he walked a step closer, a bit too close for my comfort. His mouth was right by my ear.

"I want you, Kai."

That was enough for me. I pushed him away hard enough to create some distance between us, but not enough to make him fall. He was a civilian after all. He had every right to report an officer's behaviour even if he was the one at fault.

"The fuck is wrong with you?!" I shouted. "This is not a game, kid. You are messing with the wrong person."

The guy shrugged. "I am just trying to make a deal here, sir. If you don't want to make it, then I am not gonna tell you shit. What are you even gonna do to me?"

"Hiding information of a crime is enough of a crime itself to land you in jail for the next two years."

"Oh, but after that, I'll walk free, won't I? And let me tell you this, Kai, no one has the intel I do. You can walk away from me now, but you'll come right back to me begging on your fucking knees-"

"Watch your words!"

I was not gonna give even a single second more to that bitch. I simply turned around, opened the door and slipped in. He did not even try to stop me, as he should've.

But as I started the engine, my eyes fell onto the side mirror, finding his face there. My grip tightened upon the steering, knuckles all white.

He just smiled. It involuntarily sent a chill down my spine.

~~~