Work Text:
The kitchen light blared against Yuta’s forehead, prompting his skin to release beads of sweat.
Yuta is known to be precise and a keen observer. He could relive a memory, almost accurately, from his brain no matter how long ago it occurred. He remembers things, scents, spoken words, and faces. His eyes darted across the letter slotted inside his newly rented apartment through the letter box. The letter was not in the house when he left, nor was it there when he grabbed a small moving box from his car mere minutes ago. He remembered people, and he was certain that he would notice if he encountered someone as he went back to his apartment.
However, this was not a matter of remembrance nor profiles. Yuta reread the letter for the nth time. He chewed on the nail of his left thumb as he traced over the letters printed. The paper was warm.
Dearest new neighbour at Bldg. 201, Unit 208, Allow me to welcome you to the neighbourhood. If I may be so bold to say, I am eager to foresee that the walls will be filled with flesh once more. Before I delve into ordinance, allow me to introduce myself.
I have been watching you since the past afternoon of last month, where you have participated in an open house viewing of this apartment. You caught my eye, and I am more than glad that you were the first bidder. See, Mr. Nakamoto, I think you are the best candidate for this precious house. This apartment not only provides a comfortable shelter for you, it also benefits from it.
I’ve watched how you live, Mr. Nakamoto. I’ve observed you in your workplace. You are a respectable man and I am eager to see how you will benefit the house.
Will you bring someone home? Your co-worker? Your friend? Your family? It doesn’t matter about the specificity, I will see them through the bay windows. I will hear the vibration of their voices through the wall. I will feel their presence through the gaps on the floor.
I am looking forward to seeing you once you’ve completely moved into this sacred shelter, Nakamoto Yuta.
The Watcher.
Yuta felt as if all of his senses shut off except for his hearing. He could hear a pin drop in the room, in fact, he wished for it, yet all the house gave him was silence. The looming low hum resonated in his ear as if he submerged his head into ice cold water. Everything was muffled yet silent, and that was what Yuta was scared of. Everything was too quiet as if the whole world held its breath to prevent the humidified exhalation one would feel on the crook of their neck as the world slowly crept up behind them.
Everyone was hiding, and he was being watched.
Yuta took all of his courage to move his limb, to reach for his phone and call for help.
His field of vision was covered in blue and red lights, and police jargon that he did not bother to learn. He was overwhelmed with the amount of radio feedback and squelches.
A couple of officers arrived at his apartment after he called. The tasked officer assigned to learn the situation listlessly wrote on the notepad as Yuta recalled what happened, which was nothing much on its own.
“We’ll accompany you to the station and you will need to repeat what happened to Detective Kim,” the officer said. “Would that be alright, Mr. Nakamoto?”
Yuta shuddered at the way the officer said his name. Everything seemed to feel as an attack against his walls that even at the mention of his own last name was something to be scared about. Yuta wished the Watcher hell.
It was not a long ride to the police station but Yuta felt every second that passed since he called.
He was asked to sit on one of the chairs in a certain cubicle. It was neat, Yuta noticed. The paperworks were in a neat pile, all pens were nib-down on a mug, and picture frames faced the owner.
Yuta stared at the dirt-ridden tiles and his heart skipped a beat once a sight of brown ox-ford shoes entered his vision.
He sat down on his office chair and extended his hand over the table. “Detective Kim Doyoung,” he said.
As if Yuta’s night could not be worse.
The two shared a glance. Longer than a second but swifter than two. Doyoung was always the first one to look away.
“Mr. Nakamoto,” Doyoung said after he cleared his throat. “Can you state the events from earlier?” he continued, fixing himself on his computer, ready to type down Yuta’s words.
“Please, call me Yuta.”
“This is a work environment,” Doyoung said, striking as ever.
“I was addressed as ‘Mr. Nakamoto’ countless times in the letter,” Yuta explained. “It would greatly help me if you were, well, a bit more sensitive, detective.”
Doyoung, too stunned to reply, only offered a nod.
“As you said,” Yuta said to divert the atmosphere into what needed more attention. “The letter was on the ground, inside my apartment, after I left for a bit to grab something in my car.”
“Did you lock the door?”
Yuta grimaced at Doyoung’s question. “Of course, I did.”
“Can’t be too certain,” Doyoung responded. “Can you recall the time you left your apartment and when you came back?”
“I left at 2:30 PM and I came back right after. It probably took at least four minutes.”
“What did you get from your car?” Doyoung asked.
“A box,” Yuta said as he rolled his eyes. He was tired and he wanted to rest but Doyoung’s question was his undeserved punishment. He glanced at Doyoung, his right eyebrow raised. “Full of clothes. I recently moved and it was one of the few boxes I had left.”
Yuta observed as Doyoung’s slender fingers manoeuvred their way into the digits of his keyboard.
“Did you encounter anyone on your way-”
“I would’ve noticed that,” Yuta impatiently responded.
Letting out a sigh, Doyoung asked another. “Do you suspect anyone that could have anything against you?”
“Other than you, probably none,” was what Yuta wanted to say but he remembered that he needed Doyoung's help. “No.”
“Shocker,” Doyoung murmured.
“What happened to professionalism?” Yuta said, prompting Doyoung to clear his throat.
“Apologies,” Doyoung said without sparing him a glance. “The lieutenant wants me to patrol your area for any sign later, would that be favourable for you, Yuta?”
“It will,” Yuta said, his heart easing with the thumping knowing that he will be safe tonight.
#
Doyoung examined the beige walls that reached the end of the hallway as Yuta walked ahead of him and eventually stopped in front of a newly painted brown door.
“Are you staying for the whole night?” Yuta asked as he got into his apartment.
“Hopefully not,” Doyoung responded. He took his shoes off on the mat provided and he followed Yuta to his living room.
Doyoung sat on the sofa, lightly creasing his work clothes and his coat. He placed his leather satchel bag on the floor, between his feet.
“Do you drink, detective?” Yuta asked from the kitchen.
“I don’t drink on duty,” Doyoung firmly replied.
“Oh,” Yuta said, letting out a scoff. “I didn’t know you were still on duty, given your snide comments on your way here.”
Doyoung admitted that it was not professional yet he couldn’t help it as he drove his car to Yuta’s new apartment.
“I mean,” Yuta continued. “If you were to leave me for your job, you could've at least been good at it.”
Doyoung stood up from the sofa and went towards the kitchen. “I can call another officer if my presence bothers you that much.”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Yuta said, taking a swig out of his chilled beer bottle. “Like you didn’t talk shit about me either.”
“Like I didn’t have the right to,” Doyoung responded.
Doyoung stared right through Yuta’s eyes, full of hatred which made him think if he deserved any love at all.
He felt vibrations on his back pocket as his phone rang. Doyoung stepped away from Yuta and went back to the living room as he answered his phone.
“Lieutenant wants to know where you are,” his co-worker, Jungwoo, asked.
“I’m staying overnight with the victim,” Doyoung replied. “Captain told me to.”
Yuta heard a loud sigh on Doyoung’s phone, why the latter was on speaker mode was unknown.
“Just, I don’t know, man. Just come back. That’s Lieutenant’s orders,” Jungwoo continued.
Doyoung ended the call with a defeated sigh. He looked back to where Yuta was and he caught him staring back at him.
“I have to leave,” Doyoung said. “It’s work.”
“It’s not like it's your first time leaving me for work anyway,” Yuta said.
“God, Yuta. I’m sorry, okay? I want to keep you safe but I also have other responsibilities to do- You’re drunk, let’s talk tomorrow.”
Yuta didn’t respond back, he never did. Instead, with his beady eyes, he took his last glance of the night and guided Doyoung out the door.
“Drive safe,” Yuta said.
Doyoung’s hand reached for Yuta’s face but it dropped down on his right shoulder. He caressed it to ease some of Yuta’s worries.
“I’ll try to drop by on my way home.”
Doyoung’s mind was in turmoil as he returned to his station. All he could think about was Yuta’s wellbeing. He went to the station to grab his paperwork for the night. He had to go back to his apartment, he couldn't risk Yuta’s safety.
As he drove back to the place, he caught a glimpse of what he assumed were Yuta’s window. The orange streetlight casted a glow on the outside walls of the apartment and Doyoung caught a faint silhouette peeking over the window, facing the street.
Doyoung rushed to park his car on the street. He took the spare keys given by Yuta earlier.
“Just in case,” he explained.
He contemplated in front of his doorstep, whether to knock or use the key. Doyoung decided that it would raise less questions if he knocked instead.
After a second, Yuta opened the door. His eyelids almost shut and his hair was messy.
“Detective Kim-”
“I thought you were awake,” Doyoung said as he remembered the figure on the window.
“It’s 4 am,” Yuta replied.
Doyoung reached for Yuta’s arm, ready to pull him closer in case someone did break in.
“Why are you here anyway?”
“I told you I’d drop by-”
“Overnight shift?”
“As a friend,” Doyoung said.
“Well then, welcome back.”
Doyoung made himself at home as he sat on the sofa and placed his paperwork on the table.
Yuta sat next to him. He grabbed a throw pillow and held it as he rested on the sofa.
“What happens now?” Yuta asked.
Doyoung took the folded paper inserted in his pile of folders. Before he left the station, the Captain ordered him to confirm the plan with Yuta.
“We’ll set up cameras around the apartment,” Doyoung said. “We couldn’t do anything yet, the message was cryptic and by the book, it doesn’t pose much threat.”
“How long will it take?”
“Depends on what we see,” Doyoung said. “A face could take a day. Anything else would take more than that.”
Yuta groaned in response.
“You can rest now, I’m here.” Doyoung added. “I can take the perp.”
“In a fight, right?” Yuta teased.
Doyoung scoffed in return. The tension was still thick and he couldn’t find a way to ease everything out.
Yuta stood up and went to the kitchen and Doyoung tried to focus on his paperwork.
“Didn’t know you moved back here,” Yuta said, filling in the silence.
“Sorry?” Doyoung responded.
“I meant stationed,” Yuta said before continuing with a softer tone. “Last time you were in another city.”
“Oh,” Doyoung said. “I had an option to relocate so I picked this place.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A month or so,” Doyoung responded.
Yuta appeared with a glass of water.
“Thanks,” Doyoung said before drinking half of the liquid. He let the last sip sit on his tongue for a while for examination. He tasted hints of rust, prompting him to grimace.
“It’s tap,” Yuta said. “Fridge is broken.”
“It’s already broken?,” Doyoung asked. “Why don’t you move?” he asked.
“Columnists don’t get paid as much-”
“I can help,” Doyoung said.
“I don’t want your help,” Yuta said.
Doyoung kept quiet for a while, repeating Yuta’s words inside his head, forgetting the fact that they weren’t what they used to be.
“Just tell me what I can do to help.”
Yuta nodded, “I will. Door’s open.”
Doyoung smiled in response to Yuta, a nod to their old habit, where he would leave his bedroom door open whenever Doyoung came home late, meaning that he could sleep in his bed and disturb his sleep.
As Yuta went back to his room, Doyoung tried to focus on his work but he was tired and dizzy, it’s almost 5 am and he had to work the next day.
He tidied his place and put it back in his satchel before heading to Yuta’s room.
#
Doyoung felt the blaring sunlight in his eyelids as he gained back his consciousness. His arm felt sore and next to him was Yuta, facing him and sleeping soundly. He looked to his side to check the time on his phone
9 am.
Doyoung cursed silently as he remembered that his shift starts in 30 mins.
He rose from the bed slowly, trying not to disturb Yuta. He pondered whether to say goodbye before he left but unfortunately, he had to rush out the door.
On his way out, Doyoung stumbled upon a letter. He quickly took it from the ground and took the camera with him as he rushed to the station.
Greetings, neighbour.
Detective Kim’s presence excites me. Indeed a new flesh that filled the walls. His voice echoed in the hallways that you’d think are empty. Did you have fun? Was it worth it? Would you do it again? Enough about you. I had fun, and it was worth every drop.
However, as I’ve told you before, I hear through your walls. Not only did I know Doyoung enjoyed his stay, I also knew every little detail you are conspiring against me. I am not pleased, Mr. Nakamoto. Expect the consequences on the subsequent days.
This house is sacred and I will not let you taint it. Consider this as a warning, my final one.
The Watcher.
The letter was stuck in Doyoung’s mind as he sat on his office chair. The watcher knew about his existence and the tone of the letter felt like a threat.
In front of his desk was Jungwoo’s, who kept pestering him about yesterday.
“You slept with him,” Jungwoo repeated.
“I slept in his bed,” Doyoung explained once more.
“After a day of knowing each other?”
Doyoung pondered whether he should tell people about their past business, but it was Jungwoo anyway, no one believes a word out of his mouth.
“Technically, It’s been years since I knew him.”
Jungwoo looked at him with his eyebrow raised. “You’re good. You’re good.”
The two had a bet on how much they could find out about each other and Jungwoo had been competitive as Doyoung was new to their precinct. Doyoung assumed that Jungwoo was talking about his dating history.
“So, how’d it end?” He said nonchalantly.
“Career.”
“What’s his?”
“Writer.”
“Oh,'' Jungwoo said. “Anyway, the letter is under investigation as well as the other one. They’re testing it for fingerprints and stuff.”
“How about the camera?”
“The perp wore a disguise,” Jungwoo said.
“Good,” Doyoung responded.
“Good what?”
Doyoung shook his head before responding. “I’m going back to his place.”
“You’re back,” Yuta said.
Doyoung felt the resentment in his voice. “Figured you woke up.”
“You can figure out that much but you couldn’t leave a note?” Yuta said, opening the door further to let Doyoung in.
“I was in a hurry,” Doyoung said.
“I noticed,” Yuta said. “The cameras are gone.”
“I took them on my way out-”
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing,” Doyoung said.
“Why are you here then?”
“Fine,” Doyoung gave in. “There was another letter,” he said before completely entering the apartment and shutting the door behind.
“What did it say?” Yuta asked as they made their way to the living room.
“I don’t remember,” Doyoung said as if he couldn’t recite it word for word out loud.
“Did it say anything bad?” Yuta asked.
Doyoung couldn’t flat out say that it threatened Yuta, not right now where the perpetrator could possibly hear them.
“Move in with me,” Doyoung said, catching Yuta off guard.
“Excuse me?” Yuta said, confusion washed over his face.
“You’re not safe here,” Doyoung said. “Just move.”
“I don’t have money for that-”
“Then move in with me,” Doyoung said.
Yuta was silent for a second, he wondered why Doyoung kept insisting him to move out. “Today?”
“Today.”
“Whatever you say, Detective Kim-”
“Please, Just call me Doyoung.”
Yuta grabbed the boxes he hadn't unpacked yet and put some clothes in his luggage. Doyoung offered to lend his home as his space for a while until everything was back to normal.
Doyoung felt his phone buzz in his jeans. He fished it out carefully as he held a box with his other arm. Doyoung returned his phone back as he went down the stairs to put the box in his car.
“That’s all,” Yuta said as Doyoung finished arranging the boxes in his trunk.
He fished his phone once more, looking at the notification from two minutes ago.
“I have to drive by the station,” Doyoung said. “Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” Yuta answered. “I can take my car-”
“It’s alright,” Doyoung interrupted. “It’ll be quick.”
Yuta trailed behind Doyoung as they entered the precinct. At the distance, Jungwoo caught Doyoung’s eyes to which the latter shook his head.
“Not yet,” he mouthed.
“You can sit on my desk,” Doyoung said. “I just have to check something.”
Doyoung made his way to their Captain’s office to retrieve the examined evidence.
He read through the reports, there were no fingerprints other than his. He read through the letter, something about it always felt off. It wasn’t until the second paragraph that made him realise something.
He informed their Captain and Jungwoo about their plan as he exited the other way to go unnoticed.
Doyoung started his car to go back to the familiar streets, back to Yuta’s apartment. He took the spare keys he forgot to return and ran to the building.
He walked along the beige hallway and as he neared Yuta’s flat, he knocked on the other three doors surrounding the place.
No response.
As he entered the emptied room, everything was easier to see and examine.
He went to his balcony to check on his neighbour but there were no signs of people nor clutter left on the balcony next door.
Doyoung then rushed to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, only to be greeted by a monotone buzzing and a cool air to his face.
His heart began to race.
“Why would he lie?” Doyoung asked himself.
He felt a line of electricity on his spine as he felt his hair rise up.
Pin drop silence hindered Doyoung from moving, he felt as if his joints locked him in his most vulnerable position, standing still in front of the front door.
And there it was, Doyoung saw the mail slot open and a piece of white envelope dropped on his side of the door. From a distance, he could see what was written on the envelope, Detective Kim Doyoung.
It knows.
Doyoung hastily reached for his back pocket, devastated when he realised that he left his phone in the car in his hurry. He then loomed over his holster, grabbing his pistol before slowly approaching the door.
He kneeled down on the floor, through the slit of the door, he could still see the person standing in front of it. Doyoung waited for a minute or two if he was going to break in, if he was going to enter his home.
As Doyoung stood up from the floor, a quick knock from the other side startled him.
“Doyoung! Doyoung, are you there?”
His frail hands gripped his pistol as he saw the door knob rotate.
“Doyoung-”
“Stay right there,” Doyoung said, pointing his gun at him. “Don’t move.”
“What are you doing?” he said, calmly approaching the detective. His hands snaked their way to Doyoung’s, lowering them down, away from his chest.
“I know it’s you, Yuta.”
“Maybe if you listened to me, Doyoung. Instead of jumping into conclusions. I gave you a chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think I’m the watcher, don’t you? That hurts a lot coming from someone who knew me so well.”
Doyoung completely lowered his gun. He’s certain, he’s right, isn’t he?
Yuta continued. “A watcher only watches and can’t be seen,” he said. “Do you get me, Doyoung?”
“Why are you doing this? Why would you do this to yourself-”
“I never did anything, Doyoung,” Yuta said with his meek voice and the detective can’t help but stare at his glimmering eyes and his sickening grin. “After all, no fingerprints except yours were found in the second letter.”
“What?”
“You’re the watcher, Doyoung,” Yuta said. “And that’s what everyone in the precinct believes too.”
Doyoung looked askance, he couldn’t believe a single word that came out of Yuta. He felt Yuta’s hand slide through his free hand, interlocking them.
“Now,” Yuta said. “You could risk your career or you could keep quiet and be with me,” he added.
“Go to hell,” Doyoung said, shaking his hand free from his grip. “Do you really think they fucking believe you-”
“I mean I wasn’t the one who was so eager to let someone live in my house after a threat,” Yuta said. “And I’m sure the rest of them think how weird it is that you hid the fact that you had a relationship with me. You have the motive. You have something against me.”
Doyoung scoffed, flabbergasted at how Yuta could easily spin the world at the palm of his hands.
Police sirens can be heard through the window and the detective sighed in relief. He saw red and blue lights stop outside the apartment.
“I’ll see you soon at our sacred shelter, Doyoung,” Yuta said, leaning in to leave a kiss on his forehead. “Be good,” he said as he walked away.
Doyoung stood in the doorway of the apartment before he walked towards the direction Yuta went to but he was stopped by two policemen in the hallway. He felt the cold metal tighten on his wrist and his world spins to black.