[Fic] Happily Ever After [3/?]
Part II: Muderer's Web
---
I love him. I really do. But how can I tell him the truth?
They were his friends. They were so close. They knew each other so much longer that I have. They were a part of his life, which made them a part of mine.
He trusted them so I trusted them, but I really shouldn’t have.
I shouldn’t have trusted those bastards. I shouldn’t have. But I did. I trusted them and now, I’m too scared to tell him the truth.
How can I tell him that he might not be the father of our son?
The journal entry was dated twenty years ago. There was more, but the remnants of tears had washed the rest of the words away.
Kim Jaejoong threw the diary down. It fell lifelessly on the kitchen counter, used to the abuse of its owner. This is what started everything. This event twenty years ago had been the start of everything.
And that’s how Park Yoochun found him later that night, sitting in the dark kitchen. Yoochun wrapped his arms around Jaejoong’s broad shoulders and cried the tears Jaejoong no longer had.
---
Junsu sat at his desk listlessly. He felt nothing as the minutes ticked past him. Gone was the shock and guilt that raged through him just this morning. It felt like a bad nightmare that he woke up from, but in the back of his mind, Junsu knew that it hadn’t been a dream.
Kim Heechul was dead, dead, dead.
Five bullets to the stomach and a large letter ‘t’ carved over his heart. He saw the photos. They were better than most of Hero’s other victims. The inspector still had his face and limbs intact. It was a cold comfort that there would be more than a plastic bag’s worth of flesh for the funeral.
Junsu typed a couple of rather nonsensical words and deleted them again. He’s had three hours to get this article out and so far Junsu had nothing. The journalist sighed in frustration. He wasn’t being paid the big bucks to sit in this office and twiddle his thumbs! He was a professional journalist for crying out loud! A two-column article about the death of Kim Heechul shouldn’t be this-
Cold sweat trailed slowly down the side of his face. The trembling started from the tip of his fingers, moving its way up his arms and throughout his whole body. Junsu felt dizzy and not realizing he completely stopped breathing for a moment. The panic he thought had gone was returning at full force.
He was dead. One of Yunho’s best friends in the police force was dead. An acquaintance Junsu heard of more than met to was dead. A man who just met the journalist a couple days ago was dead.
Junsu buried his face into his shaking hands and resisted the urge to scream. It was that feeling again. It was the same nausea from ten years ago when he accidentally saw that plastic bag of flesh, whatever was left of his cousin. His stomach clenched at the memory and thank god he didn’t eat breakfast.
A friend or family member being murdered is already a heavy burden of could have, would have and should have’s. But with Hero, all his victim struck home in odd ways and always in the most hurtful. These victims were always those that people looked back and realized they took for granted.
Like his wayward cousin. His baby cousin who smiled so brightly when they were young. His little cousin who demanded his twin cousins to give him piggyback rides. His young cousin who pursued journalism in admiration of his older cousin. His disgraceful cousin who was kicked out of his house. And of course, his dead cousin, who came back in a plastic-the odd smell of flesh and blood and whatever else was so pungent that Junsu recoiled and bile-
Junsu stood up suddenly and rushed for the bathroom, not bothering to apologize to anyone he stumbled into. Reaching the nearest stall, the journalist felt the acid climb up his esophagus. It was just like that time. And just like that time, he couldn’t stop from throwing up whatever came up.
With fumbling fingers, he pulls out his cell phone and calls the first speed dial number. Waiting for the line to connect, Junsu feels tears building in his eyes. He tries to keep them in, but the moment he hears that voice on the other side, the tears came tumbling down.
“Hyung…I think I did something terrible…”
And his twin brother, Junho, stayed on the line for the next three hours as Junsu cried. Someone else wrote the article on the police inspector’s death and it was the first time in years that Kim Junsu’s name wasn’t on an article about Hero.
---
Now Kim Heechul was no fool. He knew that he might die and he did, but he didn’t die a fool.
Three days before his death, he had met Kim Junsu in his office. They talked and employed Junsu’s wide contact list. These people were mostly reporters who Junsu crushed before, looking for redemption, or newbies who wanted a piece of the juiciest action and who better to suck up to than the guy with all the inside information?
Heechul had been impressed. There really were reporters everywhere covering everything and anything one could think of.
All it took was a very quick email with a picture attachment. Not the facial composite of course, that would be too obvious. Junsu had sent out an old picture of his cousin.
Looking for this person. Reliable, recent info needed.
The response had been like sharks to blood. It didn’t take more than five minutes for various journalists to reply back. Some asked for more information, other claimed to already have a lead. Junsu had rather nonchalantly begun sorting the emails.
“How do you know who to trust?” Heechul had asked, watching the journalist delete some messages without even bothering to read the content.
“It’s not really trust,” Junsu had fumbled for an answer. “Some people are just more dependable when it comes to certain information.”
“Then why don’t you just email those you already trust then?”
“Well, it’s hard to say whether they actually can help or not,” Junsu had continued, still monitoring and deleting incoming emails. “Looking for people is difficult. Sometimes the most surprising people will get you the best information.”
Junsu had described the same process the police used. Heechul had wondered whether working with Yunho made the journalist so data oriented. Intrigued, Heechul had questioned, “So what happens when these contacts can’t give you any information?”
“If the people here don’t work out, I usual go to the streets,” Junsu had laughed sheepishly. “Most people with traceable email are my, ah, more respectable contacts.”
“You personally go find people? Isn’t it ever dangerous?”
“Not really,” Junsu had answered. He stopped paying attention to Heechul’s questions long ago but these were questions Yunho made him answer long ago so the stock answers were still on the tips of his tongue. “It’s actually safer if you seek them out. They have backwards policies towards lots of things. Because they work outside the law, they work more on an if-I-like-you basis.”
“I guess they like you then,” Heechul had inferred.
“They like my methods. They say I’m more of a criminal than they are and they like it.”
After working with Kim Junsu for a short hour, Heechul had to agree. The so-called Angel Junsu had the potential to be quite a lawbreaker. He had listened to the man give some personal warnings, read some of the shortest career threats and watched the response.
“I think you were meant to be a loan shark,” Heechul had said suddenly after a long stretch of silence. “Or some kind of information broker.”
“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Junsu had laughed in his odd laugh. “Yunho-hyung has been trying to convince me to become an undercover spy since we graduated college.”
“Can I add my vote to that too?”
“Well, before that, you might want to see this,” Junsu had redirected the conversation and tilted the computer screen for the both of them to view. The email was rather short with only an address. “A rather new journalist. Used to do criminal reports but I shot her down for being in my territory. She changed to celebrity news and she’s too scared of me to give false information.”
“Is that the only reason why you’re putting confidence in her?” Heechul had asked rather bewildered. The journalist had seemed too meticulous to place faith in someone just because they were fearful of him.
“I like her reporting,” Junsu had explained. He had just realized how egotistical he sounded and the thought made him flush with embarrassment. “She’s bases her stories on evidence. Sound and mostly legally attained evidence.”
Junsu had clicked on the picture attachments, showing twenty pictures of rather good quality. The pictures were a linked into a sequence. A man was walking down what seemed to be a richer residential street with grocery bags in hand. His hood had been blown back by the wind and the profile was identical to that of his cousin. She had also sent several pictures of the man walking up to a house, typing in the house code and entering it as though he lived there.
“Well, it looks like your cousin,” Heechul had said rather amazed that they actually found something in less than a day. In his mind, he promised never to look down on a journalist ever again. These people were amazing!
Junsu had been silent. Very silent.
“I know this place,” Junsu had admitted slowly. The dread on the journalist’s face made the pits of Heechul’s stomach roll uncomfortably. Heechul had prayed to God that it wasn’t something cliché like ‘that’s my house’.
“Oh,” Heechul had said, fearfully holding onto an unbidden breath.
“That’s Park Yoochun’s house.”
It had been then Heechul knew that he might die.
---
Shim Changmin had returned to duty the day after he learned of Inspector Kim’s death.
He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have told Inspector Kim. Oh, why did he say anything? Changmin didn’t know how Hero found out, but since the inspector was dead, he had to have found out somehow.
It might sound odd, but he returned to duty because being alone was too frightening. He was scared of his lonely apartment building. Was his phone tapped? Was Hero watching him? Did Hero know where he lived? The questions swirled through his mind like a hurricane of paranoia until every little squeak of the wooden flooring and noise from his neighbors sent him into full-blown panic.
Not that being on patrol was that much better, but at least, he had a gun while he was on duty. And while Hero could probably kill him easily, it comforted Changmin that he wouldn’t die without a fight. He was a good shooter under pressure and he knows it.
“Chill out,” Kyuhyun drawled. They had spent the morning patrolling local streets and Kyuhyun had refused to let the other man drive after Changmin had panicked because several pigeons flew by suddenly. His best friend was sympathetic to Changmin’s plight, but not enough to baby him throughout the whole day. “We’re in the freaking police headquarters running errands and you’re still fidgeting. Relax. Deep breaths. You know, inhaling and exhaling?”
Changmin felt a smile tug on his lips but it left as quickly as it formed. Down the hall, Inspector Jung seemed to be talking to someone on the phone, arguing in hushed whispers. He had yet to see his mentor all this time and the guilt clawed at his mind, forcing its talons even deeper into his conscious. Changmin pushed his friend into a different corridor purposefully taking the longer way.
How can Changmin tell this man who’s been like a father to him that his best friend died because of a stupid decision? It had been a moment of weakness. It was moments like these that killed people unintentionally. Too many times had he heard stories of other officers who fell to some emotion and accidentally killed others or themselves.
Back in police academy, Changmin has scoffed and snickered at these people’s stupidity. Back then, he never thought he would face such overwhelming fear that would paralyze his whole self. He used to think himself above all that. A person’s fear of something is fought, but Changmin’s fear of Hero isn’t that simple.
Changmin bites back a yelp when something large and bulky hits the side of his head.
“You are thinking way too much,” Kyuhyun says, placing the large file back into the box Changmin was carrying. Changmin hadn’t even realized that his best friend had sneaked his own box onto Changmin’s. Kyuhyun swung his arms leisurely and exaggeratedly. “If you have so much time to daydream, you should help those of us who are actually busy!”
“And I presume you’re talking about everyone but yourself,” Changmin retorts.
“That’s the first Changmin-like thing I’ve heard you say all day,” Kyuhyun smiles.
Changmin returns the smile. It was the first time in a while he’s felt so relaxed. There were some things about friends that made life bearable, even if the friend was being a complete ass.
“Oh you’ll hear more from me if you don’t take this box back!” Changmin scoffs. The boxes weren’t heavy individually, but stacked on top of each other, they weighed quite a bit.
“Make me,” Kyuhyun said and purposefully strode ahead, turning his head only to smirk at the struggling police assistant.
Staggering on his feet, Changmin shook his head in resignation. While the other police assistant would let Changmin fight his own battles, Changmin knew his friend would turn around and help if he needed it. Kyuhyun would immediately jump to his rescue just as Changmin would run to his. Yes, it was a blessing to have a friend.
Looking at Kyuhyun’s backside, Changmin swore on his life he’d never let Hero harm his best friend. Thank god he never said anything about Kim Jaejoong to Kyuhyun and Changmin was rather determined to keep it that way.
---
Today was the last day of Kim Heechul’s funeral process.
Yunho still hasn’t gone. It’s been about a week since his best friend died and he hasn’t shed a tear yet. He hasn’t had time.
Typically when a Hero victim comes up, their department goes through a long process of cross-examination, data compilation and filing. Nothing of the case goes unexamined. Even places where the bodies or its pieces are found are mapped and set onto a trend chart. With twelve years of data to shift through, their department is desperately short-handed but still painstakingly thorough. Any possible evidence that can bring Hero to justice is examined and cross-examined and examined again.
Yunho swore ten years ago that he wouldn’t let negligence and haste be the reasons Hero stayed out of the law’s reach. So few people actually stuck with the Hero department but those who did got used to their inspector’s demanding nature without much of a choice.
“I don’t know whether I should say you’re heartless or responsible,” Inspector Lee Donghae sighs. Yunho hums in acknowledgement as he makes another cross-reference on his report. “One of your best friends just died and you’re continuing on with the investigation as though Kim Heechul was nothing more than just a name on a piece of paper.”
“If I don’t catch Hero, then I’m heartless,” Yunho replies. His mind had been heavy all week but it wasn’t the time or the place to act upon his emotions. He knows that in a department full of people that have worked with and were even friends with Heechul, this blow had been hard. So it was especially important for Yunho to keep his act together. He had to be strong so that the rest of the department could follow his lead.
“If you don’t send him off, then you’re just as heartless,” Donghae says. It was an offhanded comment, but it did its job. Yunho stills for the first time in hours. “It’s been hard on you, Yunho-ah, and it doesn’t have to be.”
“You speak as though your best friend hadn’t been murdered recently,” Yunho bites back. He doesn’t mean to sound angry but it irked him that Donghae was removing himself from the equation. All three of them had been inseparable.
“Yes, my best friend was murdered recently,” Donghae concedes. “But I’ve faced the reality of his death. The pain will probably never go away, but I’m not locking it all up inside like you are. Honestly, the only other person who seems to be as miserable as you is Changmin.”
Yunho’s eyes flicker in interest so Donghae continues, “He’s frighteningly depressed, moping around the headquarters like a zombie. The only time your boy smiles is when Officer Cho is around.”
“He’s not my son,” Yunho says.
“Might as well be,” Donghae responds. “You treat him like one.”
“I’d be a horrible father,” Yunho mutters to himself but Donghae catches it.
“How about you be an amazing father and take your son out for some lunch with a lot of heart to heart talks?” Donghae asks. His tone is slightly mocking but his intent is sincere. “I know you’re worried now.”
Yunho sighs and Donghae knows he’s won a little victory.
“Call Changmin for me,” Yunho asks and Donghae is quick to comply.
Yunho and Changmin made their way to lunch just as a letter arrived addressed to Inspector Jung. It was a large brown envelope with seemingly very little content. There was no sender information, but Yunho would have recognized his best friend’s handwriting anywhere.
Remember, Kim Heechul didn’t die a fool.
---
One thing about living with a millionaire actor was the privacy and the lack thereof. Kim Jaejoong hated the crowds of fans that sat in front of the house like bodyguards. Luckily, they went wherever Yoochun went and Yoochun wasn’t home for the day. The flip side to such a chaotic public life was the well-furbished private life.
Jaejoong gently placed the weights back on their designated rack. The small gym isn’t very small if one thought about it. It’s small compared to an actual membership gym but as a private gym, it was huge. It had to be. The gym was both their workout area and Hero’s workshop.
Walking to what seemed like a white wall, Jaejoong felt the sides for the familiar groove and pulled gently. The deceiving fabric scrolls up revealing the real wall. It’s full of pictures. All pictures of his victims, smiling without any thought that they would end up dying a painful death.
This was a wall of memories and reminders. He would scan each picture and remember how they died and why they had to die.
Did you think Hero killed people indiscriminately? Many people thought that but no, Jaejoong had a system. He knew who he was killing and why they had to die. So days before he would actually take action, Jaejoong tacks a picture of that person up and stares at it in the midst of the rest. He always likes knowing who he’s killing and seeing them smile because he wouldn’t be able to see it in real life.
He always puts up pictures before the kill, but one bloodied picture had been taken and pinned up during the kill and it infuriated Jaejoong.
“Kim Heechul,” Jaejoong hisses in barely contained anger. His fingers dug around the edges of the photo and the paper begins crinkling under the pressure.
It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Kim Heechul wasn’t to die for a while. No, his first target had been Changmin. Sweet, innocent Changmin who remembers nothing of his birth father.
In some sense, everything that happened was because of Changmin. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, oh no. The ten year old had been an angel, a snarky little angel, but still pure as the fallen snow. Yet, none of this would have happened if Jung Changmin weren’t brought into this world.
He releases the dead police officer’s picture, fingers still twitching in anger. Jaejoong looks to several of the largest pictures in the collage and a sudden wave of calmness swept over him.
“Yunho-yah,” Jaejoong whispers, this time in barely contained love. He gently strokes the picture of the living police inspector. Jaejoong looks around as though someone might walk in and finally leans toward the picture. The kiss was shy and cold as the photo gave no warmth. “That’s why I can’t leave you alone.”
His hand clenches a ripped and tapped up photo of a woman with a bright smile and he tears the picture again. Jaejoong throws the tattered photo to the floor and stomps into the kitchen childishly because he knows that later tonight, he’ll fix the photo and smooth it out next to Yunho’s.
---
Honestly, Park Yoochun hadn’t been sure how they’ve gotten to this point.
Earlier in the night, he had been working with several of his drama’s staff members when someone grabbed him and begged to talk. Yoochun had been staying late just to figure out some technical details so he shrugs and replies, “Sure.”
It wasn’t as though Yoochun was going to walk off with a complete stranger. The other man had a press pass so it was probably nothing more than trying to get an interview question in before the actor went home. But instead of asking about his drama or his next project or his old ones, the journalist went off the deep end.
“Do…do you know Kim Jaejoong?”
Somehow and someway, they ended up back at Yoochun house with the journalist tied to his bed and completely knocked out by a very hard hit to the back of his head.
Luckily Jaejoong was out with work, having taped a cute note on the refrigerator explaining his absence. Because Yoochun wasn’t very sure how the older man would react to seeing his cousin, the sole reporter on the Hero case, and Inspector Jung’s best friend in the media.
“Yoochun-ah, why are you so tense today? Something happened?”
For the first time in their association, Yoochun lied to Jaejoong.
“No, hyung, nothing happened today.”
Thank god Yoochun’s room was soundproofed and Jaejoong respected his private life too much to prowl around. Wait, that sounds wrong. The unbidden image of the journalist tied to his bed flashed across his vision. Jaejoong says nothing as Yoochun bangs his head on the dining table.
“Bad day too, huh?”
---
---
A/N: This chapter was a bit all over the place but it'll make sense later! And, haha, yeah...it had always been in my mind for Yoosu's first meeting to end up with Junsu tied to Yoochun's bed, hahaha.... Yes, Yoosu will come to play (and actually be very important for the conclusion~)
Thanks for reading~ <3
---
I love him. I really do. But how can I tell him the truth?
They were his friends. They were so close. They knew each other so much longer that I have. They were a part of his life, which made them a part of mine.
He trusted them so I trusted them, but I really shouldn’t have.
I shouldn’t have trusted those bastards. I shouldn’t have. But I did. I trusted them and now, I’m too scared to tell him the truth.
How can I tell him that he might not be the father of our son?
The journal entry was dated twenty years ago. There was more, but the remnants of tears had washed the rest of the words away.
Kim Jaejoong threw the diary down. It fell lifelessly on the kitchen counter, used to the abuse of its owner. This is what started everything. This event twenty years ago had been the start of everything.
And that’s how Park Yoochun found him later that night, sitting in the dark kitchen. Yoochun wrapped his arms around Jaejoong’s broad shoulders and cried the tears Jaejoong no longer had.
---
Junsu sat at his desk listlessly. He felt nothing as the minutes ticked past him. Gone was the shock and guilt that raged through him just this morning. It felt like a bad nightmare that he woke up from, but in the back of his mind, Junsu knew that it hadn’t been a dream.
Kim Heechul was dead, dead, dead.
Five bullets to the stomach and a large letter ‘t’ carved over his heart. He saw the photos. They were better than most of Hero’s other victims. The inspector still had his face and limbs intact. It was a cold comfort that there would be more than a plastic bag’s worth of flesh for the funeral.
Junsu typed a couple of rather nonsensical words and deleted them again. He’s had three hours to get this article out and so far Junsu had nothing. The journalist sighed in frustration. He wasn’t being paid the big bucks to sit in this office and twiddle his thumbs! He was a professional journalist for crying out loud! A two-column article about the death of Kim Heechul shouldn’t be this-
Cold sweat trailed slowly down the side of his face. The trembling started from the tip of his fingers, moving its way up his arms and throughout his whole body. Junsu felt dizzy and not realizing he completely stopped breathing for a moment. The panic he thought had gone was returning at full force.
He was dead. One of Yunho’s best friends in the police force was dead. An acquaintance Junsu heard of more than met to was dead. A man who just met the journalist a couple days ago was dead.
Junsu buried his face into his shaking hands and resisted the urge to scream. It was that feeling again. It was the same nausea from ten years ago when he accidentally saw that plastic bag of flesh, whatever was left of his cousin. His stomach clenched at the memory and thank god he didn’t eat breakfast.
A friend or family member being murdered is already a heavy burden of could have, would have and should have’s. But with Hero, all his victim struck home in odd ways and always in the most hurtful. These victims were always those that people looked back and realized they took for granted.
Like his wayward cousin. His baby cousin who smiled so brightly when they were young. His little cousin who demanded his twin cousins to give him piggyback rides. His young cousin who pursued journalism in admiration of his older cousin. His disgraceful cousin who was kicked out of his house. And of course, his dead cousin, who came back in a plastic-the odd smell of flesh and blood and whatever else was so pungent that Junsu recoiled and bile-
Junsu stood up suddenly and rushed for the bathroom, not bothering to apologize to anyone he stumbled into. Reaching the nearest stall, the journalist felt the acid climb up his esophagus. It was just like that time. And just like that time, he couldn’t stop from throwing up whatever came up.
With fumbling fingers, he pulls out his cell phone and calls the first speed dial number. Waiting for the line to connect, Junsu feels tears building in his eyes. He tries to keep them in, but the moment he hears that voice on the other side, the tears came tumbling down.
“Hyung…I think I did something terrible…”
And his twin brother, Junho, stayed on the line for the next three hours as Junsu cried. Someone else wrote the article on the police inspector’s death and it was the first time in years that Kim Junsu’s name wasn’t on an article about Hero.
---
Now Kim Heechul was no fool. He knew that he might die and he did, but he didn’t die a fool.
Three days before his death, he had met Kim Junsu in his office. They talked and employed Junsu’s wide contact list. These people were mostly reporters who Junsu crushed before, looking for redemption, or newbies who wanted a piece of the juiciest action and who better to suck up to than the guy with all the inside information?
Heechul had been impressed. There really were reporters everywhere covering everything and anything one could think of.
All it took was a very quick email with a picture attachment. Not the facial composite of course, that would be too obvious. Junsu had sent out an old picture of his cousin.
Looking for this person. Reliable, recent info needed.
The response had been like sharks to blood. It didn’t take more than five minutes for various journalists to reply back. Some asked for more information, other claimed to already have a lead. Junsu had rather nonchalantly begun sorting the emails.
“How do you know who to trust?” Heechul had asked, watching the journalist delete some messages without even bothering to read the content.
“It’s not really trust,” Junsu had fumbled for an answer. “Some people are just more dependable when it comes to certain information.”
“Then why don’t you just email those you already trust then?”
“Well, it’s hard to say whether they actually can help or not,” Junsu had continued, still monitoring and deleting incoming emails. “Looking for people is difficult. Sometimes the most surprising people will get you the best information.”
Junsu had described the same process the police used. Heechul had wondered whether working with Yunho made the journalist so data oriented. Intrigued, Heechul had questioned, “So what happens when these contacts can’t give you any information?”
“If the people here don’t work out, I usual go to the streets,” Junsu had laughed sheepishly. “Most people with traceable email are my, ah, more respectable contacts.”
“You personally go find people? Isn’t it ever dangerous?”
“Not really,” Junsu had answered. He stopped paying attention to Heechul’s questions long ago but these were questions Yunho made him answer long ago so the stock answers were still on the tips of his tongue. “It’s actually safer if you seek them out. They have backwards policies towards lots of things. Because they work outside the law, they work more on an if-I-like-you basis.”
“I guess they like you then,” Heechul had inferred.
“They like my methods. They say I’m more of a criminal than they are and they like it.”
After working with Kim Junsu for a short hour, Heechul had to agree. The so-called Angel Junsu had the potential to be quite a lawbreaker. He had listened to the man give some personal warnings, read some of the shortest career threats and watched the response.
“I think you were meant to be a loan shark,” Heechul had said suddenly after a long stretch of silence. “Or some kind of information broker.”
“You’re not the only one who thinks so,” Junsu had laughed in his odd laugh. “Yunho-hyung has been trying to convince me to become an undercover spy since we graduated college.”
“Can I add my vote to that too?”
“Well, before that, you might want to see this,” Junsu had redirected the conversation and tilted the computer screen for the both of them to view. The email was rather short with only an address. “A rather new journalist. Used to do criminal reports but I shot her down for being in my territory. She changed to celebrity news and she’s too scared of me to give false information.”
“Is that the only reason why you’re putting confidence in her?” Heechul had asked rather bewildered. The journalist had seemed too meticulous to place faith in someone just because they were fearful of him.
“I like her reporting,” Junsu had explained. He had just realized how egotistical he sounded and the thought made him flush with embarrassment. “She’s bases her stories on evidence. Sound and mostly legally attained evidence.”
Junsu had clicked on the picture attachments, showing twenty pictures of rather good quality. The pictures were a linked into a sequence. A man was walking down what seemed to be a richer residential street with grocery bags in hand. His hood had been blown back by the wind and the profile was identical to that of his cousin. She had also sent several pictures of the man walking up to a house, typing in the house code and entering it as though he lived there.
“Well, it looks like your cousin,” Heechul had said rather amazed that they actually found something in less than a day. In his mind, he promised never to look down on a journalist ever again. These people were amazing!
Junsu had been silent. Very silent.
“I know this place,” Junsu had admitted slowly. The dread on the journalist’s face made the pits of Heechul’s stomach roll uncomfortably. Heechul had prayed to God that it wasn’t something cliché like ‘that’s my house’.
“Oh,” Heechul had said, fearfully holding onto an unbidden breath.
“That’s Park Yoochun’s house.”
It had been then Heechul knew that he might die.
---
Shim Changmin had returned to duty the day after he learned of Inspector Kim’s death.
He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have told Inspector Kim. Oh, why did he say anything? Changmin didn’t know how Hero found out, but since the inspector was dead, he had to have found out somehow.
It might sound odd, but he returned to duty because being alone was too frightening. He was scared of his lonely apartment building. Was his phone tapped? Was Hero watching him? Did Hero know where he lived? The questions swirled through his mind like a hurricane of paranoia until every little squeak of the wooden flooring and noise from his neighbors sent him into full-blown panic.
Not that being on patrol was that much better, but at least, he had a gun while he was on duty. And while Hero could probably kill him easily, it comforted Changmin that he wouldn’t die without a fight. He was a good shooter under pressure and he knows it.
“Chill out,” Kyuhyun drawled. They had spent the morning patrolling local streets and Kyuhyun had refused to let the other man drive after Changmin had panicked because several pigeons flew by suddenly. His best friend was sympathetic to Changmin’s plight, but not enough to baby him throughout the whole day. “We’re in the freaking police headquarters running errands and you’re still fidgeting. Relax. Deep breaths. You know, inhaling and exhaling?”
Changmin felt a smile tug on his lips but it left as quickly as it formed. Down the hall, Inspector Jung seemed to be talking to someone on the phone, arguing in hushed whispers. He had yet to see his mentor all this time and the guilt clawed at his mind, forcing its talons even deeper into his conscious. Changmin pushed his friend into a different corridor purposefully taking the longer way.
How can Changmin tell this man who’s been like a father to him that his best friend died because of a stupid decision? It had been a moment of weakness. It was moments like these that killed people unintentionally. Too many times had he heard stories of other officers who fell to some emotion and accidentally killed others or themselves.
Back in police academy, Changmin has scoffed and snickered at these people’s stupidity. Back then, he never thought he would face such overwhelming fear that would paralyze his whole self. He used to think himself above all that. A person’s fear of something is fought, but Changmin’s fear of Hero isn’t that simple.
Changmin bites back a yelp when something large and bulky hits the side of his head.
“You are thinking way too much,” Kyuhyun says, placing the large file back into the box Changmin was carrying. Changmin hadn’t even realized that his best friend had sneaked his own box onto Changmin’s. Kyuhyun swung his arms leisurely and exaggeratedly. “If you have so much time to daydream, you should help those of us who are actually busy!”
“And I presume you’re talking about everyone but yourself,” Changmin retorts.
“That’s the first Changmin-like thing I’ve heard you say all day,” Kyuhyun smiles.
Changmin returns the smile. It was the first time in a while he’s felt so relaxed. There were some things about friends that made life bearable, even if the friend was being a complete ass.
“Oh you’ll hear more from me if you don’t take this box back!” Changmin scoffs. The boxes weren’t heavy individually, but stacked on top of each other, they weighed quite a bit.
“Make me,” Kyuhyun said and purposefully strode ahead, turning his head only to smirk at the struggling police assistant.
Staggering on his feet, Changmin shook his head in resignation. While the other police assistant would let Changmin fight his own battles, Changmin knew his friend would turn around and help if he needed it. Kyuhyun would immediately jump to his rescue just as Changmin would run to his. Yes, it was a blessing to have a friend.
Looking at Kyuhyun’s backside, Changmin swore on his life he’d never let Hero harm his best friend. Thank god he never said anything about Kim Jaejoong to Kyuhyun and Changmin was rather determined to keep it that way.
---
Today was the last day of Kim Heechul’s funeral process.
Yunho still hasn’t gone. It’s been about a week since his best friend died and he hasn’t shed a tear yet. He hasn’t had time.
Typically when a Hero victim comes up, their department goes through a long process of cross-examination, data compilation and filing. Nothing of the case goes unexamined. Even places where the bodies or its pieces are found are mapped and set onto a trend chart. With twelve years of data to shift through, their department is desperately short-handed but still painstakingly thorough. Any possible evidence that can bring Hero to justice is examined and cross-examined and examined again.
Yunho swore ten years ago that he wouldn’t let negligence and haste be the reasons Hero stayed out of the law’s reach. So few people actually stuck with the Hero department but those who did got used to their inspector’s demanding nature without much of a choice.
“I don’t know whether I should say you’re heartless or responsible,” Inspector Lee Donghae sighs. Yunho hums in acknowledgement as he makes another cross-reference on his report. “One of your best friends just died and you’re continuing on with the investigation as though Kim Heechul was nothing more than just a name on a piece of paper.”
“If I don’t catch Hero, then I’m heartless,” Yunho replies. His mind had been heavy all week but it wasn’t the time or the place to act upon his emotions. He knows that in a department full of people that have worked with and were even friends with Heechul, this blow had been hard. So it was especially important for Yunho to keep his act together. He had to be strong so that the rest of the department could follow his lead.
“If you don’t send him off, then you’re just as heartless,” Donghae says. It was an offhanded comment, but it did its job. Yunho stills for the first time in hours. “It’s been hard on you, Yunho-ah, and it doesn’t have to be.”
“You speak as though your best friend hadn’t been murdered recently,” Yunho bites back. He doesn’t mean to sound angry but it irked him that Donghae was removing himself from the equation. All three of them had been inseparable.
“Yes, my best friend was murdered recently,” Donghae concedes. “But I’ve faced the reality of his death. The pain will probably never go away, but I’m not locking it all up inside like you are. Honestly, the only other person who seems to be as miserable as you is Changmin.”
Yunho’s eyes flicker in interest so Donghae continues, “He’s frighteningly depressed, moping around the headquarters like a zombie. The only time your boy smiles is when Officer Cho is around.”
“He’s not my son,” Yunho says.
“Might as well be,” Donghae responds. “You treat him like one.”
“I’d be a horrible father,” Yunho mutters to himself but Donghae catches it.
“How about you be an amazing father and take your son out for some lunch with a lot of heart to heart talks?” Donghae asks. His tone is slightly mocking but his intent is sincere. “I know you’re worried now.”
Yunho sighs and Donghae knows he’s won a little victory.
“Call Changmin for me,” Yunho asks and Donghae is quick to comply.
Yunho and Changmin made their way to lunch just as a letter arrived addressed to Inspector Jung. It was a large brown envelope with seemingly very little content. There was no sender information, but Yunho would have recognized his best friend’s handwriting anywhere.
Remember, Kim Heechul didn’t die a fool.
---
One thing about living with a millionaire actor was the privacy and the lack thereof. Kim Jaejoong hated the crowds of fans that sat in front of the house like bodyguards. Luckily, they went wherever Yoochun went and Yoochun wasn’t home for the day. The flip side to such a chaotic public life was the well-furbished private life.
Jaejoong gently placed the weights back on their designated rack. The small gym isn’t very small if one thought about it. It’s small compared to an actual membership gym but as a private gym, it was huge. It had to be. The gym was both their workout area and Hero’s workshop.
Walking to what seemed like a white wall, Jaejoong felt the sides for the familiar groove and pulled gently. The deceiving fabric scrolls up revealing the real wall. It’s full of pictures. All pictures of his victims, smiling without any thought that they would end up dying a painful death.
This was a wall of memories and reminders. He would scan each picture and remember how they died and why they had to die.
Did you think Hero killed people indiscriminately? Many people thought that but no, Jaejoong had a system. He knew who he was killing and why they had to die. So days before he would actually take action, Jaejoong tacks a picture of that person up and stares at it in the midst of the rest. He always likes knowing who he’s killing and seeing them smile because he wouldn’t be able to see it in real life.
He always puts up pictures before the kill, but one bloodied picture had been taken and pinned up during the kill and it infuriated Jaejoong.
“Kim Heechul,” Jaejoong hisses in barely contained anger. His fingers dug around the edges of the photo and the paper begins crinkling under the pressure.
It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Kim Heechul wasn’t to die for a while. No, his first target had been Changmin. Sweet, innocent Changmin who remembers nothing of his birth father.
In some sense, everything that happened was because of Changmin. It wasn’t the boy’s fault, oh no. The ten year old had been an angel, a snarky little angel, but still pure as the fallen snow. Yet, none of this would have happened if Jung Changmin weren’t brought into this world.
He releases the dead police officer’s picture, fingers still twitching in anger. Jaejoong looks to several of the largest pictures in the collage and a sudden wave of calmness swept over him.
“Yunho-yah,” Jaejoong whispers, this time in barely contained love. He gently strokes the picture of the living police inspector. Jaejoong looks around as though someone might walk in and finally leans toward the picture. The kiss was shy and cold as the photo gave no warmth. “That’s why I can’t leave you alone.”
His hand clenches a ripped and tapped up photo of a woman with a bright smile and he tears the picture again. Jaejoong throws the tattered photo to the floor and stomps into the kitchen childishly because he knows that later tonight, he’ll fix the photo and smooth it out next to Yunho’s.
---
Honestly, Park Yoochun hadn’t been sure how they’ve gotten to this point.
Earlier in the night, he had been working with several of his drama’s staff members when someone grabbed him and begged to talk. Yoochun had been staying late just to figure out some technical details so he shrugs and replies, “Sure.”
It wasn’t as though Yoochun was going to walk off with a complete stranger. The other man had a press pass so it was probably nothing more than trying to get an interview question in before the actor went home. But instead of asking about his drama or his next project or his old ones, the journalist went off the deep end.
“Do…do you know Kim Jaejoong?”
Somehow and someway, they ended up back at Yoochun house with the journalist tied to his bed and completely knocked out by a very hard hit to the back of his head.
Luckily Jaejoong was out with work, having taped a cute note on the refrigerator explaining his absence. Because Yoochun wasn’t very sure how the older man would react to seeing his cousin, the sole reporter on the Hero case, and Inspector Jung’s best friend in the media.
“Yoochun-ah, why are you so tense today? Something happened?”
For the first time in their association, Yoochun lied to Jaejoong.
“No, hyung, nothing happened today.”
Thank god Yoochun’s room was soundproofed and Jaejoong respected his private life too much to prowl around. Wait, that sounds wrong. The unbidden image of the journalist tied to his bed flashed across his vision. Jaejoong says nothing as Yoochun bangs his head on the dining table.
“Bad day too, huh?”
---
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A/N: This chapter was a bit all over the place but it'll make sense later! And, haha, yeah...it had always been in my mind for Yoosu's first meeting to end up with Junsu tied to Yoochun's bed, hahaha.... Yes, Yoosu will come to play (and actually be very important for the conclusion~)
Thanks for reading~ <3