My fabric perforated with the slight filthy-cold ambiance of 5 AM while I looked around with eyes still blurry. The window was left open at night, but now I found it closed. The door was swinging slightly at times. Which was surely closed at night. Did someone come in when I was asleep?
It was my slippers slapping against the floor roaming around the space as the only motile. The innard was dull and shadowed by the shadows which were blocking the scanty light to get through the windows. All room doors were closed, the living and kitchen room was empty. I felt the slight shivering reflex of my limbs trying to heat up, yet not eager to go back and grab something. I needed to hurry. Cautiously I had held up the phone, the camera mode on, recording every nook and cranny. Roaming around at night could have been risky, while during the daytime I would have a better excuse, so I decided this hour. I couldn't go through anything or everything within the shortest time. The least I could do was to take a quick and clear view in daylight with the camera eyes.
A thriller or crime movie would show all the places where things could be hidden, but in real life, you can't imagine where not things cannot be secreted. So then, your own room becomes the hideout of enemies.
And there was one main reason why the department took the risk of sending me into the lion's cave like this.
I clicked on the blueprint of the dorm on my phone. Just after reaching here, I examined the entire infrastructure and compared it. It was the same, as exact as the print, but something felt odd.
The architectural planning was just so bizarre, there was just so much space left out between the position of the bedrooms, the kitchen was comparatively too huge, while, the living room was much smaller. I had the least education of an architect, but such a waste of space seemed anomalous to me, and would to anyone if they had taken a closer look. So there evoked a question, what could be the reason behind it? Or if there was a reason?
I thought of that. From a general view, it would have looked nothing more than an ordinary bachelor dorm. If I were a gang member, what would have I done?
I crouched on the floor and tapped the space. My fingertips stuck with mild specks of dust along the action, I punched around to see if a hollow sense could be perceived, also examined the walls. It was solid everywhere but at times faint high-pitched sounds would be proclaimed, yet not enough to grow suspense.
Minutes later I heard faint footsteps, approaching. Momentarily I stood up, before my own conscience, I was standing, breath held, behind the doorway. Seokjin. He was up so early, advancing towards the kitchen. His steady movements assured me that he had not seen my action. In his hands, there were two green flat and round bottles, empty, smelly. His eyes red shot, sad, a ray of small glistening.
Was he drinking this early in the morning?
He opened the fridge door and surveyed inside for a while, coming up with another bottle.
"Jin?" He seemed a bit startled when he looked back. I eyed his hands, he found me looking at them, "Oh..." He staggered, "Good morning Y/N. You're up so early!"
I didn't greet back, directly I asked, "Why are you drinking this early? It's unhealthy." It was not a voice of concern, but I needed to know the reason, so I used the voice of a manger.
"I-" His breaths were short, restless, I sensed something had happened. He flashed a small sheepish smile, brushing it off, "Jimin got his habit unto me. I have a high tolerance, don't worry." As I being the manager, he thought he needed to give me a perfect excuse, "One last."
I didn't say anything back. He quietly closed the fridge, walking past me to sit on the rattan chair beside the near small window. The bottle popped open.
"Can I join?"
"Uh, yeah..." He said. I plopped down beside him. There was no commencement of any conversation. I was fine, but he seemed nervous and awkward. Quietly he fidgeted on his seat, caring to concentrate on the bottle only but couldn't find the peace because of me.
"Has everything been fine lately?"
"Yes, everything's fine." He immediately replied, stuttering at the end of the sentence. I quietly watch him grab a glass, and observe how quickly the wine level inside the bottle started to decrease.
We sat silent. Until my phone started to ring.
I excused myself up and went to corner space. He nodded his head at me, seemingly relieved, and continued his action faster than before.
"Y/N, I thought you were still sleeping, forgetting 'bout your work," Momo said instantly as I connected the call, "I had called you, you didn't pick up."
"You did? I didn't see a missed call. I was checking up the dorm just now."
"I did do. Check your phone."
"There was nothing on my screen-"
Momo interluded, "Anyways, hear me now. There is some recent info we found out which you need to know about, I thought calling you now would be safer than calling other times, didn't know you were sleeping!" She ended it sarcastically.
"I told ya-"
"Okay, okay. It's about Kim Seokjin."
I looked around to look at the male, who was staring straight out at the dawn fog through the grill bars, "Jin? Irony, I was just talking to him."
"Really so? Is he listening?"
"No, I'm standing afar. It's safe."
"Alright. Sources got up to some facts about him, about the time when he was out in his street life. He was not in good terms with his father, neither is now but maybe is better than how it was before. Operatives went around Gwacheon and the hostel's bases, peculiar info raised up. There was a girl. Before and after."
"A girl?"
"His previous friends confirmed it. He was forced to attend a private business school, afterward, he was seen often bunking classes and skidding out. He used to meet up with the girl. Even after when he had a fight with his father ran away, he was still seen meeting her."
"Wow...That's..." I eyed back and forth if the male or anyone else was eavesdropping, "Did you find out anything about this girl? Who is she?"
"Name's Momoka Saito. Probably a Korean-Japanese. Nobody seemed to know her a lot except Seokjin. She was not a classmate, used to live nearby Kim household but soon shifted. There's barely any info about her, only that she was the daughter of a small shop owner in the district, the family sold their store off to some property dealers and moved out, nobody could tell where they have gone. They were most likely the invisible family in the neighborhood, had no touch with others. How the two met is unknown too."
"No picture?"
"There's one saved from an anonymous SNS source. A candid of her and Seokjin standing at a bus stop. We dug deep to find out about her, but there's...just nothing, oddly. Coming to a point that...it's a guess, yet maybe, she's not even alive anymore..."
My eyes couldn't but widen.
"We are digging further. I will keep informing you if further anything comes up. Keep your senses sharp. I will cut off now."
"K." I locked the phone and turned around to the male. The bottle he had just brought had gone empty too, his hands were shaking in exhilaration, his lips mumbling incoherent words of which he might have been totally unconscious about.
"Jin." He looked up at me. I almost had a jolt when I saw his face, he was crying.
"Why? Why did you leave me?" He screamed. I was dubious, "Me? I-"
"Momo..." He jolted up straight, squeezing my hands tightly, "I can't live without you. Please come back. There's no one else to care about me anymore. Every day I live, it's a moment of pain and blood clotting in my heart. I- I can't..."
"Jin, it's me Y/N. I'm not-" Something electrified my brain immediately. I blinked hard, testing the male's face, his red flashed hot, angry, and sad emotion aggregation.
Momoka. Saito.
Momo.
My fingers moved in the pace of light as I brought out my phone and checked the call log. There were two missed calls indeed, Momo.
I recalled my closed window and open door.
I was right. Someone had come in, and it was Jin.
I didn't know what his actual motive was, maybe was to close the window to keep me warm, nonetheless, he had seen the call on my phone, or Momo might have been calling at that time. And, he had seen the name...
"Whoever," His feeble voice spoke, "whoever did this to you, to us, I...I will-I will-" He gulped intensively, "I will find them for sure. I will punish them for you."
"Are you okay?" I patted his shoulder as he made a twisted face, giving a hint that he might be puking up at any moment. "Let's take you to the washroom, and I was curious," I held his one arm to hold him up, "Who is this Momo? How did she die?"
"She-" And we proceeded towards the corridor.
Memories were brought up.
He was, a parched and broken heart.