Chapter Text
Nosy people, yellow tapes, camera flashes and shutters. It’s nothing unusual for Fade. She had literally signed up for this. Her eyes scanned the area, with Gekko following close behind her. They made their way through the crowd, she presented her ID to the officer guarding the entryway. Since they were the closest to the scene, their commander assigned them to the case—it involves a Japanese citizen who went missing a couple days ago. There was a slight uneasiness of taking this case; something shifted and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Fade hopes the Japan ICD doesn’t send any officers to take the case into their custody. It might be a mess if they do because that proves how shitty things are handled here. Fade spotted a female officer near two people who were being comforted by the paramedics, she assumes they are the hikers who discovered the body.
“That’s Sunwoo, right? Or what was her name?”
“She likes people calling her Jett.”
Fade nodded to Gekko’s answer, then walked towards Jett who greeted her with no surprise of her presence. Immediately, Jett briefed Fade on the case. “The trail’s abandoned but they took it because they thought it was a shortcut.” Jett’s eyes onto the dead body, the investigators aren’t done extracting evidence. “Kiritani Kenta. 31. He visited his friend on Tuesday, didn’t return calls when he was supposed to be home and on the day after so his friend lodged a report.”
Gekko took notes of the brief as Fade went to inspect the body, crouching, her breath hitched to the sight of it. Bruising on the neck, nearby was a worn-out waist bag with its insides out, and items scattered. The condition of the body is far from fresh. The man was mugged then murdered on his way home—in view of the scene, the perpetrator must be inexperienced. They killed the guy, and panicked, then either dragged or dumped the victim here. The area is a developing city with mostly farmlands and churches. Less populated, too. The perpetrator is most likely a local who frequently hikes (or used to hike) considering their knowledge of the abandoned trail. Almost everything was laid out in her head, what’s left to narrow it down is waiting for the evidence to be processed.
Solving won’t take her long.
Fade didn’t notice the girl sitting on the bench earlier. Two boys and three girls accompanied her, one of them handing the girl bottled water. Jett followed Fade’s gaze, “that’s his friend… or girlfriend, I don’t know much. Her name’s Hitomi.”
“How’s his relationship with them?”
“Hitomi is still in shock but I did get a statement from the friends.” Jett replied, glancing at her palm which Fade caught a glimpse of writings on it. “They’re all best friends. Kenta was respectful and respected amongst them. He brings them food whenever he has a day-off from the marketplace.”
Impressed Fade was with the flow of Jett’s delivery. “What else–” Fade’s question interrupted by Gekko’s pen poking her arm. “What is it, Gekko?” Then she saw Gekko and Jett lowering their heads to someone. Fade turned to their direction and scoffed at the person walking towards them. She had almost forgotten this woman’s existence in the division, “why are you here, Sabine?” she asked, clearly pissed off.
“This is my case.” Sabine stated, seemingly unhappy. “Why are you here?”
“Brimstone assigned us. Now, it’s my case, not yours anymore.” Fade voiced sternly, “thanks to you, we might have the Japan ICD on our tail.”
Glued to her spot, a sign of Sabine’s stubbornness. “Don’t sell Brimstone’s name like that. You’re selfish… and greedy. You want this case cause it’ll be big if Japan gets involved.” Fade let her continue blabbering nonsense. “Why would I be appointed in the first place if I didn’t have the credibility? Just admit you’re stealing this case to get a promotion.”
“No one’s selling his name,” Jett interfered, “Brimstone called and sent me to work with Fade.”
“Shut up, Jett. You used to hate her.” Sabine cuts Jett off.
“Disliked.” Jett corrected, timidly avoiding Fade’s eyes.
Fade finally stood up and neared Sabine, speaking in a lower tone, “credibility?” she questioned, snickering afterwards. “I know what you’ve been hiding but let’s put that aside. Credibility, you say?” Fade glanced at the lifeless body. “If you had credibility, he would have been alive. Your cases are the easiest, and he’s your latest case. Dead. I think so are the rest too.” Sabine wanted to argue but Fade beat her to it, “you don’t like me taking over your case? Go cry to Brimstone like you always do. I don’t care that you're older than me, I don’t care about hierarchy here.”
Defeated, Sabine retreated. She didn’t drag the argument, and left quietly—surprising the three of them, knowing the aggressiveness and toxicity Sabine owns. It was odd but at least, peace was regained.
Throwing a glance at Gekko, Fade asked, “where were we?”
“I don’t know.” Gekko turned to Jett, clueless of what’s next.
“Kenta moved here last November,” Jett said, filling in. “He ran away from home, flew here, and took a job.”
Fade doesn’t know how long she stared at the corpse. Kenta’s friends were no longer near the bench, they had probably gone home. Kenta sounded like a great friend to have, probably the friend everyone wished for. Seeing his body now bloated, with foam leaking—Fade can still eat well for dinner. She had seen so much worse than this. Pinching the bridge of her nose, a sigh left her lips. “Gekko, there’s no cameras at the stops, right?” A nod in return, Fade continued, “when Hitomi is stable, ask her what route Kenta usually uses and find cameras from there.”
Fade’s phone had been buzzing nonstop since Sabine left. Finally deciding to check, hoping it isn’t from her commander. It wasn’t him. That was relieving, but the urgency in the messages from her coworker at the headquarters makes her feel anxious. “You can drive, right?” Jihyo asked, looking at Jett as she took the car key out of her pocket.
Gekko quickly snatched the key when he saw Jett nodding excitedly. He smiled softly, shaking his head at Jett, and said, “I’ll drive, no worries.”
Fade dug her pocket and found some crumpled notes, but decently enough. She gave the money to Jett, “wrap this up quickly, get everything done ASAP. Then, treat yourselves.”
“Gekko, stick with her,” Fade added, “watch out for each other, we’re a team now.”
—
Rushing in, hands at almost six. Fade found Klara at her cubicle with a worried and stressed face. “It’s taken down?”
“There are copies… you know the media.”
Fade reread the article, probably for the fifth time since she was on her way here. “There were no reporters. Just locals when I was there… it can’t be this detailed even if those oldies tip it.”
“Where’s Brim?”
“He went out.”
Fade couldn’t believe how detailed the article was. The victim’s name and age, Hitomi, the hikers, and herself. Her name publicly stated as the person in charge. Fade turned to Klara, “are you still in touch with your friend? The one at the bar?”
“I’ll try to meet him up later tonight. Why?”
“Hook me up instead,” Fade replied, twisting the cap of the bottled water. “Better if I go alone… we need to find,” chugging water, Fade pointed at the author’s name on the screen; Amir El Amari. “By today.”
Bottle on the desk, Fade froze as she faced the person approaching them. A male, in a brown T-shirt and jeans, black sneakers with orange laces. His hair slicked back, with a hint of blue highlights. Tiredness all over his face but there’s an emotion clear in bold: anger. Fade’s eyes trailed down the lanyard—Japan ICD, Kiritani Ryo. Cursing internally Fade was, she waited until the man broke eye contact. Klara was also glued to her spot.
“Skip the introductions,” the man said, dropping his backpack to the floor. “You know why I’m here. Also, call me Yoru instead. You people butcher Asian names.”
“I’m not losing my case to you.” Fade responded, disregarding Yoru’s stereotyping.
Yoru scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “I know about the article. Public will pressure you,” he relaxed his posture, “you have a good record, your reputation is at risk.”
“Choosing this job is already a risk,” Fade argued. Balled up fists, she can feel her nails digging into her palms. She doesn’t like Yoru’s tone and what he is pertaining to. As if she’s not fit for the case in his eyes and Yoru sugar-coated it with the excuse of ‘keeping her astounding record clean’. Mocking Yoru’s sarcasm, Fade went on, “I have a good record. Wouldn’t that be good for the case?”
“My superior spoke to Commander Bryne. He agreed to let me take on this case, the second I get here.”
“Call him. I dare you.” Fade challenged, she could see through his bluff. “You’re bullshitting us. If so, we would have gotten a briefing before going to the scene.”
However, Yoru’s poker face made Fade have second guesses but she eyed him until he pulled out his phone, dialling somebody. Fade does the same, hoping the commander picks up the call. Yoru walked away to the corner, speaking in Japanese—perhaps, to avoid Fade and Klara eavesdropping on him. The longer it took for the commander to answer her call, Fade’s foot tapped even quicker.
“Yes, Fade?”
“There’s a Japanese officer here–”
“Yes. We agreed to let you two share.” Brimstone sighed, knowing what the issue was.
“Okay. Tell his boss I’m leading the case.” Fade responded, then hung up instantly.
Yoru walked back towards Fade, keeping his phone in his pocket. “You tried to pull rank, didn’t you?”
“Welcome to America.”
“The victims are Japanese.”
“And you’re still in America.”
Klara grabbed her jacket, not wanting to be in the middle of their staredown, heading towards the door. Fade picked up her stuff, and looked at Yoru. “Stay here. Don’t go on by yourself. I know what it’s like to lose a brother too.”
—
Saturday night and the bar is packed—in the farthest corner, sat a woman alone and unfazed by the cacophony of loud chatters. Her perfectly manicured nails poked the mini icebergs in her drink. Her fingers wrapped around the glass, ready for a toast as her eyes searched the crowd.
“He should be here,” said a voice, “do you see him, Fade?”
Fade’s smirk dropped when she caught a group of men entering at the entrance, immediately she tapped the in-ear, “we’ve been compromised.”
Fade began to blend in with the crowd, discreetly making way to the backdoor. A commotion arises as Fade pushes a patron who blocked her path—unfortunately causing the men to spot her, and footsteps start to rush towards her. Bursting out in the alley, Fade sprinted past the drunkards and dealers. Few men had ambushed her from the opposing direction. She dodged the punches thrown, and kept running through the dark alleyway. She grabbed a garbage can, made a poor attempt at throwing it behind her. It didn’t roll far yet just enough to buy her time. A sharp right turn resulted in Fade bumping into a woman wearing a white hoodie.
“Watch where you’re going!” the woman hissed, glaring at Fade.
Fade gave her an apologetic glance. As she was about to leave, she heard running footsteps incoming and instinctively, Fade held the woman’s wrist. “We have to run.”
“Why would I?”
“That’s her!”
Their heads whipped to the manly voice. They noticed the men are all armed with knives. Some launched themselves at the two. Fade let go of the woman’s wrist, pushing her aside as she moved away. Quickly grabbing themselves anything as a weapon—Fade with a wooden plank, the hoodie girl with a glass bottle. Their backs touch as they try to maintain a safer distance from those men surrounding them. Fade whispered, “what’s your name?”
“Iselin.”
“Iselin,” a pause, “in three.”
Two.
One.
A man swung his knife at Iselin, she held his wrist and forced him to drop the knife as she smashed the bottle to his head. Fade repeatedly elbowed the man who head-locked her, she pushed him off her when a gap was felt between them. Then, she smacked him with the plank. Another tried to attack Iselin, however, Fade’s alert made her duck just in time as the wooden plank snapped into two as it hit the attacker. Hands automatically intertwined, they ran off together. Neon lights ahead, Fade and Iselin glanced over their shoulders; the remaining men just metres apart, chasing them. It felt like they were competing for the Olympics—Fade’s legs started to feel jelly at the speed they’re running, hearts beating abnormally.
Somehow, the havoc moved the bouncers’ attention from the line, allowing Fade and Iselin to slip past them. Booming club music welcomed the two. Fade and Iselin intermingle the happy, tipsy people on the dancefloor. Bodies pressing, sweat and phenol contaminating the air. The thugs came in sight, angry and annoyed eyes scanning the crowd. Iselin zipped off the hoodie, taking it off and tied it around her waist. Iselin pulled Fade closer, cupping her face and bringing her into a kiss. Stunned Fade was, she didn’t realise Iselin’s kiss had gone down to her neck. Almost forgetting what has happened, Fade slowly melts with the addictive vibe and feels. Iselin peeked to check if the men had left. Her lips brushing Fade’s neck as her eyes are locked onto them until they leave the nightclub. As they left, Iselin distanced herself, and had a thought to herself.
All the blood she savoured was never once beautiful, it is simply just red yet this troublemaker’s a masterpiece—a taste and scent she wouldn’t have found elsewhere.
“Are they gone?” the question snapped Iselin from her train of thoughts. Fade followed Iselin’s gaze, and Iselin nodded subtly.
“Yeah… should be, I think.”
The flashing lights illuminating their faces, none bothered to ask why their cheeks are flushed. Iselin asked, “what’s your name?”
“Hazal.”
“Okay, Hazal… what the fuck did you got into?”
Fade shrugged, shaking her head, “none of your business.”
“It’s my business now.” Iselin’s tone pissed, looking around to make sure no suspicious people were lurking. Then, she stared at Hazal with her cold, piercing blue eyes, “you know what? You’re bad luck.”
“I know that already.”
Fade went to find a secluded area. It’s too dangerous to exit the main entrance as the thugs might be outside. Leaning against the wall, trying to come up with a plan to flee away, her thoughts were disrupted by Iselin who crashed into her. Before Fade could argue, Iselin defended herself, “someone pushed me, okay?”
Ignoring Iselin, her mind tries to visualise an escape plan. The other end of the in-ear is just a deafening, static buzz. Fade saw Iselin heading towards somewhere—curiosity got the best of her, she dropped her ego and tailed Iselin. “Hey. Where are you going?” Fade said, as she caught up. “Iselin.”
Iselin pursed her lips, baffled at the attitude. “Leaving.” Arms crossed, “why are you following me?”
“Technically, I saved you.” Fade answered.
“Don’t gaslight me like that.”
Without waiting for a response, Iselin gestured to Fade to follow her. They went deeper into the nightclub, descending down a staircase that leads to the basement. Red emergency lights blinking above the door. Iselin crouched, a hand blindly searching for something under the worn-out doormat. Sighing, she tried lifting the potted plant beside the doormat and found a key. The key unlocked the door, and Fade was the first to head out—curious but cautious.
“What is this place?”
Fade questioned, eyes on Iselin who’s locking the door shut and tossed the key to the side. Leaking pipes, rats scrambling to its nest, broken signages, lights flickering with mayflies buzzing—Fade swallowed the vomit building up in her throat. “Some… abandoned stop.” Iselin stood by Fade’s side while cracking some joints. “If we go to the left, we’ll get to the nearest station.”
Fade and Iselin hopped down onto the railway track, journeying left like Iselin said. It was dead silent until they reached the intersection. The ground rumbling and lights are growing from the other end. Seconds matter and a train passed by.
“Two minutes,” Iselin muttered as they lost sight of the train. “Two minutes ‘til the next one comes. Run, Hazal.”
They sprinted towards where they saw the train coming from, beginning to feel the Earth vibrating; indicating another will come by soon. Lights getting brighter, they ran beyond their limits. Seeing the stop, they reached for the ledge. Both struggled to lift themselves over—the loud honking echoing makes them panicky. Iselin managed to get on the higher ground first, and she pulled Fade off the railway. It was Iselin’s last pull of strength and they both laid down on the dirty, tiled floor as the train sped past them.
And suddenly, they laughed like lunatics.
“We could have died.” Fade breathed out.
“Technically, I saved you.”
“Shut up,” Fade snapped, earning a chuckle from Iselin.
Iselin sat up, dusting her clothes then frowned, “ ah… it’s dirty.”
“Just wash them later,” Fade mindlessly replied, her eyes wandered about, the homeless were looking at them with judging eyes. She nudged Iselin’s side, “we should go… before anyone calls security.”
The station is a seething mass of humanity. When a certain area is crowded, people take in no information of anyone; everyone mind their own business. Something felt off for Fade during the moment—what happened has obviously captured attention but people probably thought they were some drunk friends doing a dare. She sensed there were familiar eyes watching her. Hence, that was why she rushed Iselin to leave. Pretending nothing happened, the two avoided all unwanted eye contacts along their way out leaving the station. The two ascended the stairs, greeted by a perfect midnight velvet sky decorated with a canopy of brilliant stars.
“I hope I won’t see you anymore.”
“Bet.” Iselin glanced to the right, then back to Fade who’s staring at her. “What?”
Fade buried her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants. “How did you know that route?”
“I’ll tell you someday, Hazal.” Iselin replied, turning away. “I’m sorry I almost got you killed, but we’re even now.” Iselin continued walking but it came to a halt when Fade called out her name. She glanced over, and a smile was seen on Fade’s lips.
“Thank you, Iselin.”