Chapter Text
The morning was fuzzy, in a sort of mental static way. It was the type of morning when everything feels off. When something so center has moved to the left and you’re left there. Your habits are the same, breathing the same, and the day goes on.
And yet, a component missing, that last puzzle piece.
Uchan woke up as he usually does. He tossed the covers to the side, got dressed, made breakfast, and tried to wake up Naeun. The stove hissed as a slice of butter was spread across the metal surface. A thin eggshell cracking and dripping yoke onto a hot pan. Eating that and then went to brush his teeth. His phone buzzed with another text message from Daewung. It was the location of the alley.
Uchan shrugged on his Lampas jacket, it was a little tight around his shoulders this time, he would have to ask for a bigger size next time he went in for an eval. His hands patted down the pockets checking for his phone, mini first-aid kit, emergency pager, and the rest of the required equipment for the day.
The commute to the scene was shorter than he expected, and the traffic was lesser early in the morning than the school rush he was familiar with. The brakes squealed as the bus stopped, and with a ding, the doors opened. Uchan’s legs carried him out, slightly staggering at the unexpected height of the step-down. A warm cloud of breath fogged from his lips as the cold was already nipping at his nose.
There were a couple of police vehicles and a few unmarked black cars parked in front of the alley’s corner. The district officers had clipboards and were supposedly getting statements from the people in the area. Uchan huffed, thankful that he wasn’t required to do that sort of fieldwork. The rest of the area had the classic black and yellow tape closing off the scene. There was a forensic team in white suits taking samples. As Uchan got closer he could see them collecting some blood from the ground. His breath hitched at the sight of gore.
The whole area was painted red, dots of it spreading across the wall. In the middle was a large lump. It looked like ground flesh that was barely attached to the bone that was peeking through the mess. He blinked, inhaled deeply, and pushed away the image from his mind. The psyker's mental training kicked in and he became numb to the horrific scene.
Hunched over the thing was the bright yellow of Daewung’s jacket. He was looking over it, blue plastic gloves resting on his chin. Cameras flashed in the corner of the young pysker’s eye. The swordsman stood up when he caught sight of his trainee. He rubbed the back of his head, wondering if this was too much for the kid.
Uchan’s face was cold and expressionless as was his voice. “What do we know so far?” he asked.
Daewung felt a tinge of guilt rise in him, but he pushed it away. “Not a lot, It’s taken a bit for the lab to collect everything and get it tested. The only thing we have is the traces of mana crystals and well…that.” He gestured to the unidentifiable lump. “It’s definitely in the scope of Psykers and Villains. That-” Daewung’s voice drifted off, his silence disturbing. He shook his head. “It’s not a human thing. Either an Outer or another Villain.”
Uchan nodded, “And we know it’s Bloodrain then?”
“Not confirmed, but we’re mostly sure. There were small Mana Crystal shards left in the mess. Classic identification for deceased villains and Bloodrain is the only one active right now in this area. Along with recent sightings, it's the best thing we have.” Daewung explained while itching under the latex glove.
Uchan asked, “What can we do for now? Bloodrain was our priority, but with him out of the way… Any victims?”
“Still looking, It’s close enough to your school that we’re seeing if anyone is reported absent and missing.” Daewung grimaced, “We’re looking for his M. O. right now.”
Uchan hummed thoughtfully, his mind running around the possible threads. “I’ll look around the block, see if there’s anything noticeable that the police didn’t catch.” The teen’s eyes flicked back to the red thing.
Daewung paused, but put a hand on Uchan’s shoulder. “You can sit this one out if you want. I know it’s close to home.”
“I’m fine, just a little off.” Uchan shrugged off the hand and shoved his own into the jacket’s pockets. Unconsciously, the teen’s back hunched forward a bit, presenting a closed-off posture. He turned the corner, letting his legs carry him around. His eyes scanned the gray broken sidewalk and the trash that sat on it.
It was still cold outside. It wasn’t bad enough to call for another layer, but close enough that the chill sunk in if he wasn’t moving. That feeling of something off hadn’t lifted either. Uchan took a deep breath, the cool air almost painfully entering through his nose. He exhaled, lungs deflating and his muscles relaxing the smallest amount.
He was at least half a block away from the crime scene when his shoe knocked into something. Uchan looked down to see a broken bottle rolling away from him. It rolled away behind him and Uchan stopped in his tracks. It was just a broken bottle yet, there was tugging in his gut. It was as if there was a word he had forgotten just on the tip of his tongue.
The psyker turned, glancing back at the bottle.
The sharp jagged edges of the glass were discolored compared to the rustic transparent brown. In the low foggy light of the overcast day, it seemed that a sort of liquid had dried on the sharp surface. Uchan cocked his head to the side and pulled out some latex gloves.
He picked up the bottle by the neck, lifting it up into the light. The liquid was thick and flakey, it smelt like copper. It was blood, easily identifiable. At least a day old by the color. It was too close to the scene to be something unconnected, and even if it wasn’t it was still strange. Uchan used his other hand to take a photo of where he found the bottle and the bottle itself.
He looked up, scanning the area around him for any other signs of a scuffle. Nothing was too out of place. Just a few feet ahead of him there was a pile of trash. A bag or two was leaning against the ground and the others splayed open. In the pile a black strap peeked out, it looked to be the strap of a bag. Uchan walked towards it, the strap coming into view. It was a medium-sized backpack.
A familiar backpack.
Uchan’s heart leaped into his throat. He swallowed but the uneasy choking feeling increased. Something was wrong.
Time seemed to stop with each step that brought him closer to the worn backpack. Its straps were barely attached to the body, with strings and markings decorated it from years of abuse. One side still had a footprint married on the dark cloth. The zippers were partly open, papers slipping out of them. Homework with messy written lines and doodles in the margins flapped uselessly in the short breeze.
Uchan’s hands shook from the cold. The world was silent and still.
As he peeled back the lips a notebook with papers fell out. In the top left of those papers was written, Name: Gangu Gwon.
No, It was just a coincidence. Hastily, with shaking hands he took out his phone and sent a text. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears, his pulse fast.
A child’s body, bloody and bruised, the mother screaming. Parts of the flesh torn from the corpse, the smell of gunpowder. Blaster laughing. His hands were hot.
Naeun crying, a distant phone call.
A traitor’s headline.
No.
No.
A buzz came from the backpack, in the front pocket.
No.
The phone buzzed again, and Uchan unzipped it. The phone was his.
It was Gangu’s.
Daewung got off the call from the lab. He sighed deeply, an ache was already building underneath his glasses. He could feel the stress headache already creeping up. He didn’t know how exactly to break the news to his young friend, but he would have to. Just when the kid was opening up too. Daewung’s grip on his phone tightened. He felt heavy with the sense that he had failed Uchan.
The Psyker pushed the door to his Lampas’s office open with a small beat of hesitation. His office felt small with the large comfy loveseat couch that took up most of the space. There was a tiny desk fit tight in the corner leaving just enough space for people to walk around the table in front of the couch. Uchan was sitting on the loveseat; he leaned on his knees staring at the ground with a gloomy expression. His joined fists pressed tight into his lips. Even from the doorway, Daewung could see the taunt tension in the younger’s shoulders. The redhead’s eyes snapped up, and Daewung could feel the breath in his lungs freeze.
The fire psyker’s eyes were cold in a different way than usual. They were dark like a heavy storm brewing on the horizon. The flashes of lightning and stillness of wind foretelling a dangerous front. The flames of resentment flickering in those dark glassy eyes.
Daewung swallowed heavily and quietly walked to his trainee. He sat down, the couch squealing its age.
“What did they say?” Uchan stared at his mentor.
Daewung leaned back and sadly said, “The lab confirmed it.”
Uchan stopped breathing, and his hands became hot. The air around them became bent and misshapen. An angry red glow nearly caught that height of friction and alighted into flames.
Daewung’s hand moved quickly to his sword, guilt-stopping it. It then moved to gently pat Uchan’’s back. The kid flinched at his touch, but the heat died down. Daewung continued, “Most of the blood was Bloodrain's, and there wasn’t a lot of the kids. There’s still a chance he’s alive. He could tell us what happened.”
“What’s the chance.” Uchan’s voice was empty.
“Pardon?”
“Of him surviving.”
“...” Daewung opened and closed his mouth. “Not good.”
Uchan’s shoulders fell. He sat there in silence, trying to comprehend how his friend, his only friend, was just gone. Just- His breath came out shaky.
Daewung wanted to pat the kids back in comfort, yet his hand fell useless in his lap. He asked, “What do you need, kid, how can I help?”
Uchan just shook his head.
“How about this, I’ll give you some time off, get your head together. Do what you need to do, okay? If you need anything just let me know. I’m your mentor. It's part of my job to take care of you.”
Uchan still didn’t say anything, and after a few beats of silence, Daewung left. So, Uchan sat there alone in the small room. The world was still silent and unmoving.
He was sent home by Daewung every time he wanted to go to work, while Naeun kept trying to get him to talk. He didn’t want to talk. He couldn’t sit down and have a conversation to just wait until Gangu came back. He was gone and no one was looking. Uchan couldn’t stop searching. Not when his friend hadn’t been seen at school in days. He would find him.
And this brought him here, to a small hallway, staring at a boring white apartment door.
The address had been easy to get from the school’s system. All he had to do was tell them it was official Lampas business and they gave it to him on a silver platter. According to his files, Gangu was registered as his sister’s dependent living in XX apartment. He tried calling Yuri, but the phone number was out of order. Despite the phone issue, there had been no recent changes recorded except for Gangu’s fights.
Uchan sighed, feeling his frustration return. He had to stay on task and ignored the irritated gaping hole that filled his chest.
Her not answering her phone wasn’t a concern, but the silence from the closed door was. Uchan couldn’t hear anything from it, no shuffling or breathing. Nothing.
His well-trained hand, married with scars and burns, reached up to knock on the door. Knock, Knock, Knock.
Silence.
Knock, Knock, Knock.
Still nothing. Uchan knocked louder, the pace matching his racing heartbeat. She had to be here, her schedule for Vespérna said she was off. Why wasn’t she home?!
“Excuse me, sir??” A concerned yell broke him out of his panic.
Uchan stared at a middle-aged woman tightly holding her purse. She looked him up and down, her eyes widening at the Lampas symbol branded on his back.
The woman stuttered, “O-oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were with Lampas.” Her grasp loosened.
Uchan nodded, “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“You’re fine! I was just coming back from work. May I ask what you need from the Gwon’s?”
Uchan paused, his mind quickly coming up with excuses. “We just had some follow-up questions to ask, but it seems that they’re not here…”
Her eyes widened and she tutted, “Really, I thought Ms. Gwon would have known.” She seemed excited to share some gossip with a respected person. “Well, she and her brother moved to America! Can you believe that? When I told Mrs. Jae down the hall she was so-”
“What do you mean, moved?” Uchan Interrupted.
“I- Well, They moved to America for her promotion. Quite suddenly, they just left a few days ago.”
The room got hotter. The woman fanned herself with a hand while Uchan internally snarled.
“I see, our information wasn’t updated then. Thank you for your information.” The Psyker turned and paced hastily down the hallway. The lady was left confused and slightly insulted.
The sandbag flew off the chain, slumping heavily as it bled out. Uchan breathed heavily, sweat kept his clothes stuck to his form. The apex of his knuckles was an irritated torn red, blood was spread over the dips and down the back. Red pearls started to sizzle, quickly drying into a crusty paste. The sandbag’s shiny red exterior was melted in some places, making disturbing indents. The back slumped deeper as sand escaped its confines.
Uchan deeply inhaled, calming his breath. He wiped his forehead and brushed a hand through his damp hair. He with the bag was a villain, preferably Bloodrain.
“Yo, you’re supposed to wrap your fists.” Jiho Seo called out.
The striker glanced up at the blue-haired teenager and gave a short nod. Jiho sighed, shaking his head at Uchan’s carelessness. “You’re worrying me. I had to hear from Daewung that something happened with your radio silence.”
Uchan felt that rage, that boiling yearning for revenge spike. “I’m fine.”
“Sure, and I'm a top-class psyker, I’m your supporter I can tell when something is up, even without Daeuwng’s tattling. ” Jiho’s pink eyes gleamed hopefully. “I’ll have your back."
Uchan hummed.
Jiho smiled awkwardly, “ Okay, uh, do you want me to get you another punching bag. That one looks a little broken.” They both looked at the slumped-over dead bag, Uchan internally winced.
“No, I’ll go ask.”
Lampas was used to broken equipment, so the secretary didn’t blink an eye at the news. The check was just sent to Daewun to deduct from Uchan’s pay. Which Uchan didn’t really care for, he was just there for the experience and resources. He was sent home, again, by Daewung.
Why couldn’t he do something, anything.
He slammed the door, stomping to his room. Naeun was startled from her homework. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked the air. She knew something had happened; he said it was Psyker work every time she asked. Naeun sighed, blowing a piece of her pink hair from her face. She glanced back at the door and yelled, “Gym freak! What’s wrong?”
“...Leave it alone, Naeun.” Uchan’s muffled voice called out from his room.
“Oh no, that's your Cassian's dead voice.” She pushed back her rolly chair and rolled to his door. She kicked it and opened it with a years’ practiced ease. “This is going on for too long. What happened, or I’m uploading your dog onesie photos to every platform I have.” Naeun rolled closer to him, poking at his back.
Uchan was lying on his stomach, face first into the soft pillows. He groaned at her touch, “Just go away.”
Naeun slipped from her chair to his bed. It dipped under her weight. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to buut~,” She drawled. “It would mean a lot to me. It’s not like you’re here all the time.” Her voice got a little sadder towards the end.
Uchan huffed and faced her. He didn’t meet her eyes but she could tell that he was trying to find the right words. “Gangu is missing and it’s-” He cut himself off, his eyes looking a little red.
Nauen blinked. Oh, that, that made sense. Softly, she laid on the back of his legs. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft and gentle. “It’s not your fault.”
Uchan breathed slowly. His chest moved in jerky movements. Naeun sat with him for a little bit. She sat up, patted his back, and said, “I’ll make dinner, you hang tight.” She quickly stepped out of his room.
Uchan stared at the blank face of his wall. The vision of it was blurred and foggy with the sharp sting of tears. He sighed, a heavy feeling resting in his heart. It told him to get up and go find him. But Uchan couldn’t find the will to wiggle a finger, even his eyelids fell to gravity.
Naeun walked back in with their family comfort food to see her brother asleep. She smiled, setting down the dish before pulling up a blanket over him. She would just have to leave it out for when he woke up.