Chapter Text
Jimin had laughed when his mother had recommended he check the plan at least once more. He had checked it twice already, he’d said, he wasn’t going to be late for his very first day of work.
Jimin looks at his watch: he’s already very late for his first day of work. He stops running when he finally spots the police station’s façade, trying his hardest to appear calm and confident, and not a like stressed out kid running late.There’s a faint bell ring announcing his entrance, but nobody behind the front desk to welcome him. Great first impression.
“Hello?” he asks, looking around for a sign of something alive in the office. The potted plant on the desk doesn’t greet him back.
“Hello!” Jimin jumps when a smiling man’s head pops up from behind the desk. He removes his large headset and looks at Jimin. “Can I help you with anything?”
"Hello, yes. I’m Park Jimin.” The guy cocks his blond head, still smiling, “The new policeman’s assistant?” The guy smiles bigger and takes Jimin’s hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. “I’m very sorry to be late on my first day…”
“Don’t you worry, Park Jimin. It’s your lucky day,” he waves dismissively from his spot, bent over the desk. He’s a bit taller than Jimin like that; Jimin isn’t jealous at all. “There’s only me here, and I’m no snitch. I’m Jung Hoseok, ITech!” Jimin guesses it explains the too-big headset. “And receptionist, I guess, when I’m left alone here. I’m shit at it, as you can see.” There’s no trace of shame in Hoseok’s voice, as if being a shit receptionist was one of his secret prides.
"Does it happen often?” Jimin frowns, looking at what little of the office he can see from his position: emptied desks and a huge mess all over.
“Nah, not really. Only when everybody’s out on a case.” There’s some joy in Hoseok’s voice. He lowers his tone and leans closer to Jimin, “Homicide.”
“What?” Hoseok is grinning again, relaxing back in his chair with arms stretched over his head.“The others,” he explains calmly. “They’re out on a case. A homicide,” he adds again, eyes wide in a mock-scared expression. “Shouldn’t you be there too?”
“I guess?” Jimin is a bit disoriented now. “Where is it?”
“I’d drive you,” says Hoseok, already scribbling on a dirty neon-blue, heart-shaped post-it, “but I have work to do. Victim identifying and all that jazz.” He tries to stick the post-it on Jimin’s shoulder; Jimin catches it before it falls. “Take a cab, keep the note, have fun!”
The first meeting with one of his new colleagues wasn’t bad, he decides. Weird, but not bad, and weird is something Jimin definitely knows how to deal with.
It takes Jimin ten minutes to find a cab, and twenty more to arrive on the crime scene. He’s almost an hour late, doesn’t have his uniform, and is closer to seeing his very first corpse than he’s ever been. No reason to stress, he thinks, carefully stepping over the bright yellow police line. He barely has time to look around before a furious guy in a uniform rushes towards him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks. Jimin can’t help but notice how cute he looks, even with his angry face and heavy dark circles under his eyes. “No civilians on the crime scene. Step back.” He shoves Jimin’s shoulder lightly, his expression severe. The big camera he’s wearing around his neck bops once with his movement, making him look strangely endearing.
“No, no, wait,” Jimin raises his hands in front of his chest. “I’m Park Jimin, I’m the new…”
“The new assistant,” completes the guy, dropping his hand from Jimin’s shoulder. He sighs. “I wasn’t expecting you anymore. Aren’t you late, Park Jimin?” Jimin opens his mouth to answer, but he’s cut off again. “I don’t care actually. We’ve been here since six anyway, and I have no idea what time it is right now. I’m Min Yoongi.” He smiles a bit at that, offering his hand to Jimin. Jimin shakes it with maybe too much enthusiasm. It's a pretty hand, he notices. “I believe we’re going to be partners. This isn’t your first corpse, right, Jimin?”
“Of course not,” he answers, blushing just a bit. Jimin has definitely seen his fair share of dead bodies in videos and pictures during his training days, anyway, so he figures it’s just an innocent little lie. Anything but admitting just how much of a newbie he really is.
They make their way to the crime scene together, a wooded area a short distance from any housing. The group of policemen is gathered under one of the trees, circling the corpse in such a way that it’s hidden from Jimin’s sight. Three of them are wearing their uniforms and standing awkwardly behind the fourth, who’s squatting in front of what Jimin assumes is the dead body. He’s got bright pink hair and a terrible white isolation gown; the coroner, Jimin deduces. He lifts his head just when Jimin and Yoongi reach them, glaring at the tallest of the other men.
“Namjoon. I didn’t get any sleep last night, and I’m wearing what look likes the closest brother of a trash bag. I definitely don’t look good, so don’t try buttering me.” Yoongi and two of the other men chuckle, but Namjoon looks down, clearly hurt.
"You didn’t get any sleep, Jin?” he asks with a slightly worried tone.
“Don’t you worry your pretty head,” Seokjin rolls his eyes before looking back at the corpse. “No offensive gay activity. Yoongi, did you get all the pictures we’ll need?”“Yeah, everything’s here,” he answers, pointing to the camera. “I even got us a new kid on my way. Guys,” he says, gesturing to Jimin. “This is our new recruit: Park Jimin.”
"Hey!” says one of the two unnamed men, leaning to poke at Jimin’s cheek. “He’s super cute! Good job, Yoongi!” It sounds a bit teasing, but Jimin doesn’t think it’s mean-spirited. Definitely weird, though.
“Tae…” Namjoon takes his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes, and sighs for a long time. “Sorry, Jimin. I’m Kim Namjoon, senior officer,” he extends his arm. His handshake is firm. “And your new colleagues: Kim Seokjin, our coroner,”
“Hi, Jimin!” Seokjin smiles at him from his spot and gestures at his rubber gloves. “Can’t really shake your hand. Welcome! You are indeed pretty cute.” Jimin blushes and returns Seokjin his greetings.
"Jeon Jungkook,” continues Namjoon with a hint of irritation in his tone “is an officer like you. And Kim Taehyung, the kid who likes touching people, is our criminologist.” Taehyung shrugs with a smile and puts his chin on Jungkook’s shoulder. “I believe Yoongi already introduced himself?” Jimin nods. “Our victim’s introduction now. Jin?”
Namjoon steps down, letting Jimin get a better look at the corpse. The victim is a still-young man wearing a dark suit, pink flowers artistically placed in his chest pocket. He is leaning against the trunk of the tree, his eyes closed, giving him an almost peaceful expression. Jimin looks a bit more closely, trying to find the cause of the death: no mark around his neck and no trace of blood, no rips in his clothes.
“It’s a young man.” says Seokjin, more seriously. “I don’t think he’s over thirty-five. He probably died less than ten hours ago. Cause of death,” Seokjin plucks the flowers and drops them in an evidence bag. “stabbing,” he finishes, showing them the gaping wound revealed behind the flowers.Jimin stares in horror at the hole in the guy’s chest, his whole body freezing.
"Not your first, huh?” asks Yoongi quietly with a smirk. His smile drops when Jimin doesn’t answer; he squeezes his bicep once. “Can’t blame you, we all lived this once, yeah? Tae cried for his first, and Kookie was so sick we had to give him a free day.” Jimin laughs softly. “Not me though. I was totally professional and manly, of course.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jimin smiles softly at Yoongi. “Thank you.” Yoongi answers by squeezing Jimin’s arm once more, still smiling. They both turn back to Namjoon, who’s talking again. Jimin might have missed something, the dead guy’s wound printed on the inside of his eyelids.
“Flower guy doesn’t have any ID with him; Hoseok is already working on the missing persons’ files. Jin and I are going to drive the corpse back to the morgue, and I need the four of you to go talk to the neighbourhood. Taehyung with Jungkook, Jimin with Yoongi. I want you all back at four. Everything clear? Any questions?”
“All good, boss!” answers Jungkook with a goofy salute. Jimin looks a bit longer at the corpse, and at Namjoon who’s trailing behind Seokjin like a sad puppy, before he finally follows Yoongi. Jungkook and Taehyung are already ahead them, one of Taehyung’s arms intertwined with Jungkook’s.
“Fascinating case!” Jimin hears him say, slightly too enthusiastic for someone talking about a dead person. “The symbolism. Flowers blooming from the blood. Narcissus? But the flowers are not narcissus… They’re familiar, but I don’t know their name.” He’s talking so loudly that several people turn around to look at him and frown. He’s totally oblivious of the attention he’s attracting; Jungkook nods at him patiently.
“They’re oleanders,” says Jungkook, more quietly. Jimin can see his smile, a bit indulgent and definitely endeared.
Taehyung’s face breaks into a grin. “You’re a genius,” he presses his forehead to Jungkook’s temple with a kind violence. “You’re a real flower boy, right Kookie? I need to check the language of flowers.” He twirls around once, trips on his own feet, barely gets caught by Jungkook. “Pink flowers, though… a way to mock this guy’s masculinity?”
“Don’t let Jin hear that!” Calls Yoongi after him with a smile.
“Not my opinion!” Taehyung shouts back, contorting his neck to face Yoongi. “I love pink, you know that. I would dye that uniform pink if it was allowed. Unfortunately,” he sighs dramatically, one arm in the air. “Most people don’t share my opinion. A shame, really.”
“A tragedy,” confirms Yoongi. He stops when they reach the road, points to his right. “We’re going that way. Let Jungkook speak and don’t scare any old ladies, yeah?”
“Old ladies love me!” Taehyung shouts in answer, making Jimin laugh. Yoongi and Jimin observe the two boys leaving: Taehyung still talking animatedly, Jungkook’s hand softly holding onto his wrist.
Jimin was too busy being nervous to check the neighbourhood on his way to the crime scene; watching it now makes him painfully aware of how rich the whole area is. A row of intimidating walls faces them, houses completely invisible from the street. The sidewalk is so clean that Jimin suspects it may be neater than his tiny flat’s kitchen floor will ever be. It seems unlikely that anyone living in these fortresses would be up to witness a crime.
“I don’t think we’ll find anything here,” says Yoongi, as if he’s reading Jimin’s mind. “These walls are so thick. People here have expensive security cameras and windows with double-glazing, they don’t wake up every time there’s a loud noise outside.”
Jimin wants to ask Yoongi if that's what he does, if that’s what investigating murders every other day does to you. He wants to ask if Yoongi ever sleeps a full night, or if the black circles under his eyes darken a bit every day, from every time he awakes in a jolt and can’t find the strength to go back to sleep. He wants to ask if it does that to every police officer; if he too will have to learn how to run on barely three hours of shallow sleep. “Maybe they won’t anymore,” he says instead.
Yoongi smiles at him. “You’re a kind person, Jimin,” he says; it doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment.
Yoongi has a few recommendations, (Not interrupting him, staying polite even with really rude people, accepting tea, but never alcohol.) but mostly tells him to watch and learn. Jimin thought it would take them an hour, maybe even less, but they end up doing interrogations for most of the day. Most of their time is wasted waiting for people to show up and actually answer their questions. They visit three houses, and in each have to question the owners, their children, and their domestics; the procession leaves Jimin a bit dizzy. He wonders if Yoongi really manages to remember every face, every name. The interrogation is mostly useless, the only bit of interesting information being a guardian swearing that he heard a car in the middle of the night. They’re both discouraged when they walk back to Yoongi’s patrol car; Jimin knows nothing they heard can help them on the case and Yoongi, frowning to himself, seems to think the same.
“Hey,” says Jimin, in an attempt to lift the atmosphere. “So. Are Jungkook and Taehyung an item or something?”
Yoongi looks briefly at him. “Nah,” he says. “Jungkook wishes they were, though.”
“You mean Taehyung doesn’t? He was all over him earlier.”
"He always is.” Yoongi laughs. “Who knows? I love the kid, but you never know what’s going on in his mind.” He swiftly changes lanes to pass a slow driver. “I’m team ‘Jungkook should make a declaration’, but I don’t know if it’ll happen anytime soon. Or ever.”
“What about you?” Jimin blushes a little at the implication. Yoongi eyes him with a smile.
“I’m totally free,” he answers. “Had a couple of relationships since I’ve been here, but it didn’t work out; people don’t like it when you cancel on them at the last minute, or have to leave in the middle of the night.” He shrugs. “That’s why I think Tae and Kook should be together. At least they’d leave in the middle of the night together.” He turns to Jimin. “You? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
“No boyfriend.”
"Nice.” Yoongi is finally parking the car in front of the police station. He stops the engine and turns to Jimin, one elbow on the steering wheel. “Cause I really don’t want you to come crying on my shoulder because you got dumped.”
“I wouldn’t come to you, anyway,” answers Jimin with a laugh. “I’d go to Hoseok hyung, I’m sure he’s good with broken hearts.”
"He’s good. But listen to me,” Yoongi leans slightly as if to tell him a secret. “Namjoon is even better. And I am the best.”
"I’m starting to think you’re either the best at everything,” Jimin smiles widely. “or extremely pretentious. Which one is it?”
Yoongi’s eyes almost disappear, as his smile grows. "Nah, don’t worry, there are things I’m only average at. Like rapping.”Jimin wants to answer something, maybe ask for a demonstration, but he’s interrupted by a very loud police siren and a new car parking next to them without any finesse. Both of them jolt back, Yoongi jumping from the car to welcome Jungkook and Taehyung with a severe expression. Taehyung emerges from the car with a happy grin, looking a bit too much like an overexcited puppy.
“You let Tae drive?” he gazes pointedly at Jungkook, who shrugs easily, muttering something about Taehyung deserving a reward for behaving during the interrogations. Yoongi rolls his eyes and turns to Jimin, mouthing “whipped” before walking to the police station’s door.
Hoseok is already perched on his desk when they enter, headset around his neck and laptop balanced precariously on one knee. “Did you guys let Tae drive?” he asks eagerly as soon as he sees them.
"I don’t want to know.” Namjoon raises his hand before Taehyung can answer. “Come here, all of you. Report?”
They all gather in the open space between Hoseok’s desk (too many computers, a couple of mugs still half full of coffee with colourful little animals on them) and Jungkook’s (a too high, well organized pile of papers, three little cacti, an assortment of multi-coloured pens and what looks like an anti-stress rabbit plush). There’s a whiteboard in the corner that Jimin supposes had some work related purpose, but is now covered in a weirdly beautiful fresco, in which he recognizes the six policemen in bright colours. On a blank corner Jimin reads all of their initials, with what looks like coffee orders. Namjoon pushes some files onto a third desk (Taehyung’s, psychology magazines clustered all over the surface and pink post-its almost covering his whole computer screen, whiteboard markers making it clear he’s responsible for the drawing).
"We drank some fancy tea!” Taehyung starts happily, poking at Jungkook’s chest for confirmation. “It was good, wasn’t it?” Jungkook nods with an indulgent smile.
“Okay.” Namjoon’s voice sounds thin, like he’s trying his best not to press further. “Anything else?”
"Yeah!” Taehyung’s hangs off of Jungkook’s shoulder, and Jimin can’t help but notice Jungkook’s light blush. He wonders how many times this happens in a day, and silently sends some strength to the boy. “One of these guys had a tree in his house! A real, living tree! Can you believe this?”
“Tae…” Namjoon rubs slowly at his face, eyes tightly shut. He opens them again with a discreet sigh. “Anything relevant to the case?” Jungkook and Taehyung shake their heads in rhythm, making them look like a kind of weirdly touching, two-headed chimera.
“Nothing for us either,” says Yoongi. “A guardian vaguely remembers a car, that’s all.”
"Thank you. Hoseok?”
“Well…” Hoseok perches himself on his desk as well, laptop secured under his arm. “There’s a couple of old disappearances in the missing persons’ files that could fit our guy, but…” he scratches his head and Jimin fears for his laptop for a second. “I don’t know… I don’t really feel it, right? Men this age never really resurface, you know? I sent pictures to the families, we’ll see.”
“Okay, thank you.” Namjoon rakes his fingers through his hair, looking very tired. “Jin won’t finish ‘till tomorrow. I don’t think we can do any more work today, so I suggest you all go home to catch some sleep. I’ll stay for the permanence.” His eyes pass suddenly to Jimin. “Somebody has to give Jimin his uniform, too. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait ‘till tomorrow for the grand tour, if that’s alright?”
“I could stay with you, if you want?” Jimin asks shyly. “I haven’t been awake for as long as you all have.” He blushes a little when all of his new colleagues turn to watch him.
“No, go home, Jimin.” Namjoon smiles warmly at him. “I’d say it was a pretty challenging first day. I don’t want you to be disgusted of the job already.”