Chapter Text
There’s no reason it shouldn’t work. Hanbin has casted this simple spell for what felt like a hundred times before, both in the comfort of his own bedroom like now and everywhere else. He takes a deep breath and tries again.
“Flena fatiscit.”
Still nothing.
He’s ensured that each word is spoken clearly and loud. Hanbin used to have problems with his diction when he was a young witch, putting him in some rather unfortunate situations. It’s not like he’s getting no reaction—the rocks are lifting on his command, but they’re not crumbling into thin air like he is commanding them to.
Something inside Hanbin burns bright as he grips his wand firmly in his hand.
“Flena fatiscit!”
The rocks on his desk start shaking, starting out slow and then so violently that you would think there was a crack in the earth below. He catches one of the rocks that nearly tumbles off the ledge in his hand, quickly throwing it back down because of its raised temperature. He circles the tip of his wand around the stones before he lifts his wand, grinning as the rocks levitate into the air, but not getting his hopes up. Just when they’re supposed to crumble, the rocks turn back to their slate gray color and fall back on his desk.
Hanbin has exhausted his outcomes. He knows he’s saying it perfectly, so what gives? Why is the spell only running half its course?
Desperate times call for new ideas. Hanbin points his wand at a pencil in a cup holder on his bedside desk before he takes a deep breath and tries once more.
“Flena fatiscit!”
Before him, the utensil levitates into the air and in a matter of seconds, snaps itself in half. It’s doing exactly what the spell should be doing. Maybe it’s an issue with the rocks, Hanbin finally concludes.
He holds the rocks in his hands with lowered brows. The rocks look like any other rocks, but upon looking closer, there’s a small layer of gold-colored fungi dusted on the bottom surface. Hanbin’s seen plenty of fungi before, but none of this kind.
It has him on his feet in a heartbeat, diving under his bed for his book of natural specimens. The book is a heavy weight in his hands, stuffed to capacity with different photos pasted to each sheet. Hanbin is incredibly proud of this book of his, having put it together and alphabetized it himself. He flips to the section labeled Eukaryota, housing specimens of different fungi and other plants. Specimens of the Eukaryota Kingdom are typically present within soil or in other environments with high levels of moisture.
Hanbin hasn’t even seen half of the fungi in his book with his own eyes, but they’re all native to his country. He knows enough about this specimen to guess that whatever algae inhabits these rocks from the river have some kind of special protecting agent to them. His theory is proven correct when he stumbles upon a specimen titled Pleurotus citrinopileatus. It’s a rare, golden fungus present at Kournas River here in his city, Kyremia, which also happens to be where he picked up the rocks from.
The fungus is indeed protecting the rocks from being destroyed. Even if he was to pick off the algae with his fingers, even a small speck is enough to serve its protecting purpose. Hanbin is relieved to learn that it’s not a skill issue, and is also intrigued by the specimen he’s observing for the first time. In the future when he has more time he would love to come back to these stones and study them further.
In the meantime, he tosses the rocks in his desk drawer for a later date and calls it a night.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
It’s a sunny morning as Hanbin follows the usual long stretch of pavement to work. It’s not his preferred forecast, much too bright for his liking, but he makes his strides in high spirits nonetheless. Hanbin much rather prefers cloudier days because he can only withstand the heat for so long.
The city is alive on this Tuesday morning. Hanbin observes groups of citizens sprawled out on the grass in the park along the way, duos hand-in-hand buying goods at the market stalls, and elderly partners walking the streets with their arms linked together. Others usually aren’t out and about this early in the morning, but it seems people fancy the warm weather more than others.
The busyness of this city is why Hanbin is so fond of it after all. That, and because he doesn’t stand out as a witch. One look at Hanbin and you wouldn’t think twice: a 22-year-old man standing at 180cm tall who wears sweater vests and thick glasses, and also goes out of his way to curl his hair. But it’s also because there are other creatures in this city that stand out more obviously – the wine-loving satyrs who frequent local bars, the noble centaurs who fulfill high-level jobs, and sirens who plague the sea. And the not so obvious – the werewolves that howl on full moon nights, the vampires who scour the darkened streets, and the wizards who slyly carry their wands in their back pockets. There’s more to this city than that, but that’s just to name a few.
Despite all of the preconceived notions and biases that comes along with witches, Hanbin believes he doesn’t fit such generalizations. He would describe himself as incredibly extroverted, enough to work at his city’s library, a higher social environment job. He’s chatty, well-rounded, and an overall pleasure to be around. That’s what his director and childhood best friend, Jiwoong, has said about him at least.
Hanbin has lived in Kyremia, the southernmost city of the country, Eleos, all of his life. Hanbin enjoys the countryside and the slowness of life. Several generations of his family were born and raised in this very city. He comes from a long line of witches, all successful and highly respected individuals. Hanbin had some big shoes to fill once he came into his own; he can only dream of one day becoming as brilliant as the witches who came before him.
Jiwoong is at the desk when he arrives, typing up something on one of the computers.
“Good morning, Hanbin-ssi. How are you doing this morning?” he greets warmly.
Hanbin peels off his light jacket and book bag from his shoulders. “Hyung, you don’t have to talk so proper to me when there’s no patrons around.”
That softens the older’s face, an airy chuckle passing his lips. “Sorry. Force of habit.” He gestures to the carts of books a few feet from where he’s sitting. “I already sorted the bins. You can start processing the loans and holds.”
“Slow morning?” Hanbin teases.
Jiwoong scoffs, but it’s not ill intentioned. “More like I took pity on you. Taerae called out this morning.”
Hanbin’s eyes widen. “I’m all alone today?”
“Essentially, yes.” Jiwoong prints out some documents he had been working on prior to the younger coming in. “But I’ll be in the back if it gets too busy. Just give me a shout and I’ll come running!”
The younger nods, already piling a stack of books on the wooden countertop. “Got it. Hey, you want to hear about something strange that happened last night?”
The director stops in his tracks. “Oh?”
“I was in my room practicing spells, like I do some nights. There was this defensive spell I stumbled upon in my spellbook,” Hanbin explains. “I was using these rocks from the river as test subjects that I found on my walk home from work.”
“Am I familiar with this spell?” Jiwoong asks. “I’ve practiced a lot of defensive spells in my time. Which one was it?”
Hanbin thinks back on the previous night. “It’s the one used for inanimate objects, due to its weaker impact on subjects. It is flena fatiscit, if you’re familiar.”
“Oh, right! I remember that one. What about it?”
“Well, it’s less about the spell and more about the rocks I was using,” Hanbin says. “There was this protective algae on them. When I looked it up, it said it was an algae only present at Kournas River, here in Kyremia.”
Jiwoong steps closer to the younger with a fascinated smirk. “Rare fungi, huh? Now that’s cool! So I assume the rocks weren’t crumbling like they should?”
“Exactly!” Hanbin shouts. “It’s not unusual given the circumstances, but it was my first time ever seeing this algae in person before.”
“We live in a fascinating city–a fascinating country– Hanbin-ah. Us witches are lucky to have access to such specimens,” Jiwoong says before stepping into the back.
The library is slow, as it usually is most mornings. It takes about an hour for things to really pick up, which gives Hanbin ample time to tend to the morning duties. Returns, when patrons bring books back to the library that are to be put back on the shelves. Loan requests, books for the Kyremia’s patrons requested from other libraries that have to be alphabetized on the bookcase against the wall.
Hanbin works the morning shifts, which he enjoys. It allows him to have the nights to himself, locked in his bedroom to practice his spell casting. Whenever it’s slow at the library he finds himself deep in his research, essentially getting paid to add sections to his spellbook. The work also isn’t difficult. He enjoys shelving books and the small tasks Jiwoong assigns him, almost as much as he loves the small talk he makes with the patrons.
As soon as he powers on and logs in to his computer, Hanbin makes his way over to the drop off. It’s the bin outside where patrons return their books when they don’t want to come inside. There was an event last night held in one of the backrooms, so there’s bound to have been a lot of books dropped off by the tens of patrons who had attended.
And his hypothesis is unerring. He comes back inside with two armfuls of books and other types of media. He makes a mental note to bring a trolley with him next time, right when several copies of the local newspaper, The Kyremian Times, almost spill from his grasp.
He separates the piles by their categories: easy readers, children’s books, young adult fiction, adult non-fiction, and everything in between. It’s warming to observe all of the kinds of books people read nowadays. Hanbin’s certainly has found a book recommendation or two this way.
When he scans one of the books, however, something happens that’s never happened before.
There’s a folded paper inside one of the pages that falls to the floor when he scans one of the non-fiction books. It’s nothing akin to the occasional bookmark or shopping list he finds stuffed into a random page by patrons—this is something that elicits a gasp up his throat.
He makes sure that Jiwoong is out of sight and that no one is approaching the counter to flatten the paper on the counter. It’s a note, and it reads “Help!”, pasted from magazine cutouts. In the bottom right corner is an address, and that’s it.
34 Agathonos Avenue.
What is this? Is this some kind of bizarre wisecrack? Why would somebody leave this in a public library book? All Hanbin knows is that he doesn’t want to show anyone, fearing this might be some messed up joke of some kind, so he hoards the new found information to himself with shaky fingers.
Then a terrible thought crosses his mind. What if this isn’t a joke and someone is in serious danger? What if this really is a cry for help?
The letter brings him back to an incident that happened when he was younger – when he had to act fast in order to save someone’s life. The panic the letter ignites grips tightly at his chest and a shiver runs down his spine, even though he has no clue if whoever wrote this note is in a similar situation.
It awakens something in him. Hanbin feels like this piece of paper falling into his hands was fate, no matter how much it has him spiraling from previous trauma. No matter how frightening the questions running through his mind are. If someone needs help, he trusts in his abilities to do just that. If this is the decision he chooses to make, then perhaps telling someone about his after work plans would be a great start after all.
In the meantime, Hanbin opens a new private window on his browser and searches the address. He’s not familiar with the street name, and when he gets the search results, it pinpoints a location in a secluded, woodsy area in the outskirts of the city.
He shoves the note into his pants pocket and goes back to work. The color hasn’t returned to his face in time before a patron comes to the desk.
“Hello, good morning.” Hanbin can hear himself saying, even if he sounds miles away. “Checking out?”
“Yeah…” the woman says. “Are you feeling alright, love? You look a bit pale.”
Hanbin tries his best to laugh but when he glances up, it must sound as forced to his own ears as it does to the patron’s. He can sense how colorless his face is, and he actually feels like he’s going to be sick.
He needs to push through and close this conversation right away, before a worried Jiwoong comes out from the back office. “It must have been something I ate this morning, I’m feeling a bit queasy.”
The woman fortunately doesn’t ask any further questions, even though the concern doesn’t leave her face. “I’m also picking up a film. Last name is Yeon.”
Hanbin scans her library card and the few books she brought to the counter before he makes his way to grab her hold. The receipt prints out and he’s eager to send her on her way. “Due date is the 3rd of Noemvríu. Have a great day.”
Jiwoong doesn’t even wait a beat before he pokes his head out from the back. “Hanbin-ah. What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
The older chuckles, stepping into the room. “Just because I’m in the back office doesn’t mean I can’t hear what is going on out here.”
Hanbin doesn’t say anything. Should he keep up his facade? Does he tell Jiwoong, fellow witch, his new plans for after work?
Surely Jiwoong would offer to help him if he told him about it. It’s not that Hanbin doesn’t want to, but he just has no idea what to expect from all of this. If this is something bad then he wouldn’t want to put another friend in danger, even if said friend could use spells and magical powers to help him out. Hanbin wishes to shoulder this burden, at least for the time being.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Jiwoong says, gauging his thoughts from his hesitation. “Just. Go wash your face in the bathroom. You’d think a ghost was wandering around these walls.”
“Yes, hyung.”
Hanbin feels a bit better when he comes back. He shoves his plans to the back of his mind, focusing the best he can on the stack of books he has to finish scanning.
And then he somehow makes it all the way through the rest of his shift, before he’s hastily booking it out the front doors.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Hanbin is nervous about his plan. He can’t deny that. Before he left work, whilst sparing Jiwoong the details of the note, he told the older the address that he was headed to. For safety reasons, if anything were to happen to him. Although he really had no idea what or who was awaiting him, he really hopes coming alone wasn’t a mistake.
He truly believes that he can handle things. He runs through the most important spells in his head, healing spells and the like. It’s been a while since Hanbin has cast spells outside of the walls of his bedroom.
There’s one principle that Hanbin has abided by in his life: never use your magic for evil. It’s how he was raised. He never once took advantage of his magic capabilities and used it for anything other than abiding by what is right. There’s no gray area—Hanbin was a healer and a fighter, who used his spells for good unless someone or something threatened the well-being of him or a loved one.
Being here is both simultaneously exhilarating and nerve wracking, both emotions coursing through Hanbin’s veins until he finally reaches his destination.
He parks his car a distance away and turns off his headlights. For now, he doesn’t want to make his presence known, trying his best to blend in.
What stands before Hanbin once he arrives is a crime scene, or the looks of one. The area is taped off and there are at least ten officers at the site. It’s pitch black outside, with the exception of a single street light and all of the flashlights that the officers are holding. It’s confusing – the area is taped off yet there’s no sign of tragedy. It’s unnerving just how calm everyone in front of him seems to be.
Hanbin is entirely out of place here. Maybe it’s not too late to go back, completely unnoticed. He turns around and swears under his breath when he steps on a long branch. He shrinks in on himself when a bellowing voice calls out to him, much louder than the hushed voices of the officers surrounding the area.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” the man shouts. “Who are you?”
Hanbin really wishes he could recall a disappearing spell right about now. Instead, he stands frozen in place, eyes squeezed together tightly. He counts to three in his head before he turns around, facing all of the officers who have all fallen silent and are waiting for an explanation.
“My name is Sung Hanbin,” he says. One of the officers looks like they’ve come to some sort of realization, slapping the shoulder of the guy next to him. One officer in particular just narrows his thick eyebrows further at him. Hanbin reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the mysterious letter from the library, which has now garnered pleats and crumples. “I received this note today with this address on it.” He holds up the document like it’s on display, clinging onto the only possible reason he could be in a place such as this.
The officer with thick eyebrows softens a bit before he hardens again. “Where did you get that?”
He swallows, taking a deep breath. “I work at the city’s public library. It was inside one of the books that was returned today.”
A rush of different conversations break out all around, both about him and the accusatory officer. Hanbin makes out, I knew he looked familiar!, What business does the boy have coming here?, and Who would leave behind such an important note in a book?, all the while the thick-eyebrowed officer just stares back at him with his arms crossed.
“I take responsibility,” the accusatory officer finally says. “While in a rush to return the overdue book, I suppose I neglected to check the pages thoroughly.” Are you a professional? Rookie mistake! What are we going to do now?! Hanbin watches as the officer bows in apology to all of his frustrated associates, not looking nearly as hard as he had a moment ago. Hanbin’s heart softens.
“Why are you all making a fuss?” Hanbin hollers. The conversations all come to a halt. Good, Hanbin thinks. “Is this not a crime scene? Pull yourselves together, would you?”
“That’s right,” the thick-eyebrowed officer says. Hanbin notes the hidden relief that crosses his features, and he unsurprisingly doesn’t express his gratitude towards him. He almost looks like he’s agreeing with Hanbin, but then he says, “This is a crime scene. You need to leave immediately.”
“Officer Hao is right, kid,” one of the older officers speaks up. “This isn’t a job for a librarian.” Hanbin stands there, humiliated and clenching his fists, as all of the officers break out into fits of laughter. With the exception of the forgetful officer.
I’m a witch, Hanbin is dying to say. I can help you all!
An overachiever is exactly what Hanbin is, through and through. An opportunity to assist has fallen into his lap and he wants nothing more than to do just that. Even though deep down he knows it’s not within his right to.
It’s also just not that simple. Hanbin would never reveal his identity so easily. He’s not ashamed of being a witch. In fact, Hanbin has felt rather celebrated all of his life. Not only by his family, but by other witches and wizards in the city. Kyremia doesn’t have any exclusive schools, but Hanbin’s mother still ensured he made connections with other magical beings. His mother would send him and his sister off to camp every summer, and then everyone just kept contact from then on. It’s how he got close to Jiwoong.
Hanbin’s hesitance comes from always being taught that his magical abilities should be held close to his heart, until he puts his trust into someone first. He’s known witches that put their trust into the wrong people and it had backfired. Prejudice exists in every space. It was something he was always cautious of.
So instead, Hanbin takes a look around and really assesses the area again. His previous thoughts still ring loudly in his head. The entire area is taped off, but why? There’s no dead body, no signs of murder, nobody in sight besides himself and the men in blue.
“Why have you guys taped off the area?” Hanbin mutters. “It’s not like this is a murder investigation.”
“And just what makes you so sure?” the thick-eyebrowed officer, Officer Hao apparently, pegs. “You don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
Hanbin smirks, amused. “I only don’t know because you guys want to keep everything to yourselves.”
Somebody get this kid out of here! Hanbin hears a voice from the back.
“Hanbin,” Officer Hao speaks through gritted teeth. “We can and will force you to leave if you don’t do so at your own will. Do I make myself clear?”
Hanbin internally rolls his eyes. So much for pitying the new hire, he thinks before turning on his heel.
He may be leaving the scene, but he’s not throwing in the towel just yet.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Hanbin enters his house as quietly as he could to not disturb his sleeping mother. He picks on some dinner leftovers before washing up and then calls it a night.
He’s restless for an hour before he eventually switches on his bedside table lamp, sitting upright and grabbing his notebook. It’s like he’s in a trance, the way his fingers flip through the pages and the speed of the pen moving across the dotted paper. He writes the things he knows for certain, even though they’re minimal.
1. Mysterious note sent to the police station with an address, but there’s presumably nothing worth writing a mysterious note about
2. The mysterious note was in the hands of one of the rookie officers
3. Whoever is behind what happened last night is either really good at covering their tracks or they enjoy playing psychological tricks. Maybe both?
The last note he jots down has him skimming through his spellbook, tabbing possible necessary spells with sticky paper. That’s how he falls asleep, with his light on and heavy book settled on his chest. It explains the crick in his neck the next morning.
Hanbin gets all ready for work before he steps out of his apartment. The police station is inside the municipal building, which just so happens to be right next door to the city’s library.
He plans to tell whoever is willing to listen about his middle of the night thoughts. When he walks through the glass door, he’s met with Officer Hao and two other officers he doesn’t know the names of. Hanbin observes the dark rings under their eyes and their hair that sticks up in all directions. He hypothesizes that none of them slept a wink last night. It shocks him, thinking that anyone could have gotten worse sleep than him.
“Not you again,” Hao sighs. “What do you want, Hanbin?”
Hanbin stands his ground, approaching the front counter. “Good morning to you too.”
The officer throws his arms up in frustration. “I’m serious. Did I not make myself clear last night? You can get in serious trouble for imposing on police investigations. This isn’t some kind of joke.”
“Can you just listen?” Hanbin says, disregarding his words. “I came to some conclusions last night when I was thinking about everything. I came here to share them with you all.” He’s not fond of begging, but alas, “Please. Just hear me out.”
Hao watches him for a long while. He alternates between staring at him and the officers behind him, who offer no guidance in the situation, and instead just stare back at him with dull and unfocused eyes.
“Fine,” he says, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You have five minutes.”
Hanbin gleefully walks another step forward, taking his journal out from his back pocket. “Okay. So it’s confirmed, and I don’t know nearly as much as you guys do, but I feel like whoever sent the mysterious note is good at covering their tracks.”
All of the officers stare at Hanbin with blank expressions. He clears his throat, continuing.
“Um. I also had a question, if that’s allowed.”
Hao laughs joylessly, waving his hand. “It doesn’t seem like my answer would deter you so go ahead.”
Hanbin’s question isn’t connected to any of the research he did last night, but he thinks of it on a whim when his first lead is met with silence. “Is this the first note that you guys have received?”
Hao looks away at that. He focuses on the computer screen in front of him, taking a strange interest in the black screen. When he meets Hanbin’s eyes again, he looks even more tired than before. “No. This is the second note we’ve received, both from this month.”
Hanbin gasps. “How have they gotten away with this more than once? Why was nobody monitoring the area?”
The officer’s face contorts in exasperation. “There you go again with your assumptions. Do you think the police force is run by a bunch of numb skulls?” He yanks open a file cabinet and sifts through a bunch of papers before his fingers land on a singular piece of paper, holding it open for Hanbin to read. It’s almost identical to the letter Hanbin received yesterday. “Both . . . incidents . . . took place at different addresses.”
“Did anyone find anything left at the site last night that alludes to acts of murder?”
Hao sucks his teeth. “That’s coveted information for the ears of the police only.”
Hanbin sees right through him, his lips pulling upward. “You didn’t find anything, did you?”
At this point, all of the officers have filed out of the room leaving the two by themselves. The officer turns around to assure this before he swings back around, red in the face.
“Look. It’s a lot more serious than you’re understanding. Let me break it down for you,” the officer says. “The chances that we’re dealing with murders is highly likely. There was a missing person’s report issued two weeks ago and then this morning we received a call from a worried mother who told us her son never made it home last night.”
Hanbin stuns, slowly processing it all. He waits silently for the other to continue.
“We receive letters the morning after whatever happens takes place. So far both times have been different addresses. When we arrive at the address the same day we receive the letter, there is no evidence or any sort of DNA left at the location,” sighs Hao, sounding as exhausted as he looks. “It’s void of anything that could further our investigation. So not only is whoever behind this a wise trickster, but they’re also phenomenal at leaving behind no traces.”
There’s still one thing that doesn’t make sense. “How could you be so certain that the disappearances are linked to the letters if there’s been no evidence at either time you were called to site?” Hanbin wonders.
Hao shrugs, a gesture way too casual for the heavy-weighted question. “Two disappearances reported, two letters sent. We can’t be certain, but it’s not like we have anything else to go off of right now.”
Hanbin had considered conducting a truth serum spell before coming here but had deemed it morally unsound. It doesn’t seem like he needed it anyway, thankful for the officer’s loose tongue. “I’m surprised you’re telling me this much.”
“And I’m surprised you want to get involved in something like this,” the officer tuts. He glances at the clock. “Your five minutes are up, you have to leave now.”
“Wait,” Hanbin begs. “I must reiterate that I’m a librarian. I have archive experience and I have excellent filing and sorting skills. I can help you guys!” In more ways than I’m letting on.
“I won’t repeat myself.”
Hanbin smirks, reluctantly putting his journal away. “And if I don’t leave? What are you going to do, call 1-1-9 on me?”
Hao doesn’t even blink at Hanbin’s attempt at mockery. “No, but I have security on speed dial.”
Hanbin raises his hands in defense. “Okay, I’m leaving.” And then, just because he can, he tosses one last look over his shoulder. “Come into the library again some time, Hao-ssi. Check out some more books, yeah?”
He chuckles at the other’s silence as he departs, walking to the library in long strides.
“Good morning, Hanbin-hyung!” Taerae beams from behind the circulation desk.
“Is it?” the older huffs.
Taerae straightens, his fingers freezing on the keyboard. “Should I ask?”
“No.”
“Well, alright.”
Hanbin tosses his book bag in a corner on the floor and thrusts his coat on top of it. “Why did you call out yesterday? Are you feeling okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” the younger reassures. “I stayed up all night the previous night finishing a paper. I was going to push through my shift but I just couldn’t.”
The older laughs. “It’s okay, Taerae-yah. We’ve all been there.”
They both fall into their own work, comfortably working beside each other. Hanbin retrieves the carts of books from the back, greeting Jiwoong in his office, before he makes his way back to the front.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Almost midway through the shift when things slow down, Hanbin gets busy on a private window on his computer. It dawns on him that he doesn’t even know what to search for to begin with, but he tries something based on his earlier visit to the station.
Kyremia series of murders
Mysterious killings in Kyremia
34 Agathonos Avenue murder
As expected, there’s no coverage about the supposed killings on the local news outlets. The officers are being hush about it, but it’s also not unheard of for the city to not report on mysterious disappearances of people. In a city where most of its citizens are never consistently in one place, for reasons such as hibernation, relocation, or just plain old sea people, reporting on such disappearances would be silly. The only thing that’s alarming is the notes sent to the station.
He’s going to have to delve deeper, and a bit broader. His investigation has to begin somewhere.
Strange disappearances in Eleos
What kind of beings kill their prey and leave no remains
Hanbin wonders if the police station has contacted the city’s post office. Hao had said there was no DNA left on the notes, but they would be able to identify the sender through their transaction history. He makes a mental note to ask the officer about this when he gets off of work.
There’s just so much gray area about all of this that leaves Hanbin feeling incredibly frustrated. He can’t even imagine how Hao and the rest of the force are feeling. It weakens his heart a tad just thinking about it.
Hanbin and Taerae wrap up the rest of their shifts and go their respectful ways. He doesn’t think he can run to the police station fast enough. Like a gust of wind, he bursts through the door.
The station is… empty? Well, mostly. Hanbin observes a sleeping officer at his desk, arms crossed in front of his chest. And then, when he listens closer, he hears two voices.
“You could use his help, Hao-ssi! None of these other officers are willing to help you as much as this librarian is, so why not work with him?”
Hanbin freezes, holding his breath. That sounds like the older cop from the crime scene.
“And why are no other officers willing to help me?” Hao bites back.
“It’s protocol,” the other says. “Every rookie officer takes their first case by themselves.”
The younger officer tuts, laughing humorlessly. “I don’t think that’s the only reason why sajang-nim. I think it’s clear that the other officers aren’t fond of me.”
“You’re getting the rookie treatment,” the other explains. “Everyone goes through it. So use your frustration as fuel to solve this case. Prove to the other officers that you can work hard and get things done. The others will gain your respect if you’re successful.”
The rebuttal is almost immediate. “I don’t want the librarian's help. Are outsiders even allowed to help the force?”
“Not as paid help, but yes, the force has partnered with a number of people in the past. We depend on the otherworldly abilities of our citizens. Up until now you’ve been working by yourself. Wouldn’t it at least be nice to at least have the kid around as company? It doesn’t seem like he’s stepping away anytime soon, based on what you’ve told me.”
“He looks like he’s the same age as me,” Hao huffs after a brief pause.
The senior officer chuckles. “Yeah, and you’re a kid.”
Ouch. Hanbin doesn’t want to hear anymore of this, especially in secret. He goes to turn on his heel but doesn’t make it very far before Hao enters the room.
The officer seems visibly alarmed by his presence, and to his fortune, less annoyed than when he had stopped by earlier. “You have to stop sneaking in here! Have you never heard of the concept of knocking?”
“Nope,” Hanbin quickly retracts himself from his thoughts. “I had an idea.”
“Too bad I don’t want to hear it,” Hao frowns, feigning apology. Hanbin observes the distance in his eyes but doesn’t comment. “Maybe you can tell the next guy.”
“I’m serious, Hao-ssi. Hear me out. Wouldn’t the city be able to track whoever is sending these notes to the station?” Hanbin asks. He’s quite proud of himself for the lead, standing up straight with confidence. “It could make things a lot easier if we put a name to the sender.”
Hao deadpans. “If you think I didn’t think of that with the first letter, on the very day that I received it, then I am incredibly insulted.” He straightens a stack of papers against his desk top before clipping them together and filing them away. “The post office has no record of the sender. They were most likely sent through the dropbox.”
Hanbin deflates. “But wouldn’t there be a sender’s address on the letter at least?”
“The sender's address on the envelope is the same address they write in the letter,” the officer sighs. “There’s no way of tracking it. Nobody lives at these sporadic locations.”
Once again, Hanbin has gotten his hopes up only to be let down again. He tries to think of something else, recalling his search history at the library.
“Has there been a record of anything of this sort in the past?” Hanbin offers. “If not in our city, maybe we can reach out to other cities?”
Hao slams his fist on the table, the dozed off officer jumping awake with a gasp. He looks around, like he’s forgotten where he is, before he gathers himself and walks off into the other room.
“There is no we in any of this!” Hao shouts. “And I’ve had it up to here with you. I’m calling security.”
Hanbin panics as he watches the officer reach for the phone. In a last ditch effort to stay afloat, he lunges forward and smacks the receiver out of the other’s hand, meeting his gaze with widened eyes. He can get himself into serious trouble for putting his hands on an officer. He should get in trouble for doing such a thing. So why is the other looking at him in confusion, speechless, and frozen in place?
He looks at Hanbin like he’s considering his help—completely contradicting all of his previous rejections. Hanbin thinks he also looks so tired, body slightly hunched over his desk. It really puts into perspective how much this case is starting to weigh on the other. Then, in a small voice, the officer says, “I just don’t understand.”
Hanbin’s head tilts, bewildered. “What don’t you understand?”
Hao’s voice is so calm, Hanbin is certain he’s never heard him speak with such serenity before. To him especially. “Give it to me straight, Hanbin. Why do you want to help me so badly? Surely there’s a good reason. Has someone in your life gone missing recently? Is this case personal to you?”
Hanbin blinks, taking a deep breath. It’s because the note landed in his hands that he feels a sense of responsibility, or maybe it truly is because he doesn’t like to back down. Or maybe, just maybe, this case really does feel personal to him, in a way that’s too complicated to explain at the moment.
If citizens really are in serious danger, then that’s all the more reason for him to extend his services. Hanbin doesn’t like to use his magic for evil, he never has. Unless the situation calls for it. To save himself from the mouthful, he spews out what comes to mind first, “All I can tell you is that I think we would make a great team together.”
Hao smirks. “Mildly convincing, but it’s not good enough for me. I’ll make sure to send this maniac your way when I catch them though. I’ll have them register for a library card or whatever you want. Would that make us even? I solve this case and the library gets more revenue?”
The younger shakes his head, his blood gradually boiling by the second. He’s a patient person, but said patience is dwindling. Hanbin shouldn’t be antagonizing towards someone who he’s trying to get on the good side of. He shouldn’t dig a deeper hole for himself than he already has but he can’t bite his tongue. In a desperate attempt to not spill his heart out, he brazenly says, “I think you and I both know that you can’t solve this case by yourself.”
The amusement is wiped from Hao’s face, and he doesn’t even bother replying to Hanbin’s taunt. He picks up the phone again, and just as he’s about to start pressing buttons, Hanbin screams.
It’s not just any scream. In his frantic state, Hanbin releases a scream of such power and volume that it has the other dropping the receiver to cover his ears with both hands, eyes squeezing shut. He doesn’t even realize that he’s used his magic until he feels the familiar tingling in the tips of his fingers. Dread spreads in the pit of his stomach. When the room settles again and Hao relaxes, he opens his eyes to a phone that is smoking.
“What the—”
“Don’t touch it!” Hanbin warns. “You’ll get burned.”
The other looks at him with widened eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hanbin. Please tell me you’re not a witch.”
Hanbin feels the knot in his stomach tighten. He doesn’t say anything, mouth dry.
Officer Hao chuckles, and it’s a bitter, grating sound. “So this is why you wanted to help me.” He doesn’t even ask, the words coming out like a declaration. “All you and everyone in this city wants to do is help. To assist the police force, to use your magical abilities to solve crimes.” He inhales a deep breath, exhaling shakily. “Is that it?”
“Are you not—” Hanbin pauses, processing the other’s words. “Are you human?”
The officer looks at him with empty eyes once again. “Yes,” he says, before steeling again. “Why am I even telling you this?”
Hanbin doesn’t think he can answer that question, even if he wasn’t as confused as he feels. He can’t find an answer to a lot of the things the officer has asked him.
“Just,” the other starts again. “Get out of here now, while I’m still asking nicely.”
“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that,” Hanbin pleads. Begging for forgiveness is something he can do. “I panicked.”
“Tell it to somebody who cares.”
Hanbin stops fiddling with his thumbs, hearing him loud and clear. He knows what he’s capable of and he knows he can be put to use, which only makes the continued refusal hurt more. He doesn’t belong here, in a place like this. He never did. Maybe he never will.
He messed up. All he can do is nod, accepting his fate, before he slips out of the door without saying another word.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Hanbin slumps onto his bed, staring up at his bedroom ceiling. His sweater vest clings too tightly to his skin and there’s still a knot in his stomach. He’s still stern on himself for his earlier slip up. The whole thing makes him wonder if he has as much control over his magic as he thought.
He just wanted to help. He hates being denied, especially when his intentions are good. The police force have the right to do their job themselves, and everything Hao said to him is warranted, but it still weighs on him. It makes him feel like a young child again, sent to his room after being scolded by his mother. Hanbin closes his eyes, recalling the memories.
Hanbin may have been a diligent student, both in public school and in his mother’s teaching, but that doesn’t mean he was immune to the occasional misbehavior. He was also not immune to his mother’s strict discipline—she would scold him if he ever came home past curfew or if he slipped below any of the ridiculously strict standards imposed on him. When the scolding ran its course, things got more personal. His mother would send him to his room without his wand and spellbook, or even, and this was the worst of all, withhold a lesson altogether. No amount of crying or hysterics would get his mother to change her mind, leaving a young Hanbin alone in his room to console himself. If he didn’t have his sister to depend on through rough times, Hanbin would have had a much more isolating and lonesome childhood.
He knows how much his mother loves him; he feels her love through small gestures in the morning before work and at night when he comes home. In his heart, Hanbin believes raising him like she did was a tactic to push him to behave and to work harder, even if that meant taking away what he cherished most. And whether purposeful or not, it molded Hanbin into who he is today. A determined, confident, yet stubborn witch. And if there’s one thing about Hanbin, it’s that he’s insatiable. No matter how many times he slips, he gets back up and pushes forward. He could be drunk with praise but it still wouldn’t be enough for him. No matter how many accomplishments he has under his belt, he doesn’t think he will ever be satisfied. He always wants more.
It’s why he can’t step away now. He reaches for his laptop and boots it up. Records, records, records—in a modern world, they have to exist somewhere on the internet outside of a police station.
Hanbin doesn’t want to take no for an answer. He just can’t accept it. He allows himself to be selfish in that regard.
Acquiring police records
Kyremia police records
It’s not surprising that he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. It’s not even that the police covet such information, proven to him when he finds a list of felons and other past criminals, but this case is too fresh. He’s not going to find anything about it online. He still doesn’t even know what he should be looking for, quite frankly.
Would it be a terrible thought to wish for another letter to be sent to the police station? Hanbin winces, his heartstrings tugging. In his desperate want for leads he finds himself wishing devastation on someone else. Maybe he really should take a step back from this case after all. It’s not like Hanbin’s trained for this lifestyle, no matter how prepared to fight evil he thinks he is.
He shuts his laptop, settling to sleep on his thoughts.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Monday morning rolls around and Hanbin is running late for his shift so he can’t stop at the police station like he had hoped.
“I’m here, I’m here!” he calls out, lightly jogging into the library. “Sorry I’m late.”
Jiwoong glances at the clock behind him. “It’s only 9:25. Your shift doesn’t start for another five minutes.”
“I know,” Hanbin huffs, dropping his bag and jacket down underneath the counter. “But I’m always here ten minutes before my shift even starts.”
The older sighs, rhythmically patting the counter with both hands. “How could I forget that you’re an overachiever?” He laughs, and it makes Hanbin laugh too. “Taerae will be here soon. I’ll be in the back if you need anything.”
“Yes, hyung.”
Hanbin grabs a trolley, learning his lesson after Tuesday’s heavy load, and makes his way over to the drop off bin. He’s too immersed in shoving armfuls of books onto the cart to notice Taerae’s arrival, only realizing he’s here when he sees him at the counter.
“Good morning, Taerae-ya!” Hanbin greets his sleepy-eyed associate. “How did you end up scoring on that paper of yours?”
Taerae yawns behind a polite hand. “I got a 94% on it! My professor input my grade so fast, it was posted last night.”
“That’s great! Your hard work paid off then.”
Like usual, the two of them fall into the quiet work of scanning and sorting books and media. After the returns are done, they make their way over to the delivered bins where they separate the loans from the returns. The loans are books that come from other libraries that patrons in Kyremia have requested while the returns are books that are brought back to the city to be put back on their shelves. Taerae is the one who volunteers to put them away, thankfully, giving him the opportunity to open the incognito tab on his computer.
How to persuade someone
He chuckles quietly to himself as he skims through the various articles, astounded by his own absurdity to even search a question like this. When he finds one that looks promising, he begins reading from the top.
“How to persuade someone, huh?”
Hanbin nearly jumps out of skin at the sound of another voice over his shoulder. He quickly minimizes the tab, relieved to not have been googling anything more suspicious. Like what he’s been using the work computer for for the last week.
“Hyung, you scared me half to death!” he says, turning to face Jiwoong. “Why are you sneaking up on me like that?”
“My curiosity got the best of me,” the older explains. “I never got the chance to ask you about that address you said you were going to last week. What ended up happening?”
His heart spikes. He tries his best not to look as flustered as he feels inside, thrown off balance by the question. “It was–”
“Excuse me.”
Hanbin whips around in haste. Before the two of them stands a centaur with a friendly grin on his face. His hair is long and braided at the ends, while slightly graying at the roots. “How can I help you?” he manages to say through his parched throat.
The centaur looks at Jiwoong with a raised eyebrow before he lands back on Hanbin again with kind eyes. “Can you point me in the directions of the computers?”
“I will show you,” Jiwoong says. “Follow me this way.”
Hanbin uses the moment alone to catch his breath. He should have seen this coming, telling someone like him the address. His friend is someone who looks out for him, who has always looked out for him. Who has been there for him through one of the toughest moments in his life.
What does he tell him? Hanbin’s not entangled in anything yet, despite wanting to be. It would be in his best interest to tell his best friend about where he’s been the last week. Maybe Jiwoong will lend a hand. After all, two helping hands are better than one—maybe then Hao would even reconsider his help.
Jiwoong makes his way back around the counter and resumes position behind him. He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “Hanbin-ah, come to my office. I want to speak to you.”
“Alright, hyung.”
A wave of confidence washes over Hanbin when the door clicks shut behind them. He’s not afraid anymore. He’s ready to tell his friend everything that’s happened since last week.
“Jiwoong-hyung, I–”
“What’s gotten into you lately, Hanbin?” the director cuts through his words like a knife. He leans his weight on his desk and places both hands gripping the wood. “Why am I the one who has to chase you down for information? And then you’re frazzled at work? It’s unlike you.”
He looks down at the floor in shame. He can’t deny the way he’s been sneaking around lately, and how out of character it is for him. “Hyung–”
“Who are you trying to persuade, Hanbin? What’s going on?”
“If you would just let me explain!” Hanbin shouts. He feels like he’s been backed into a corner, all the while slowly realizing how his silly online search holds the potential to paint him in a bad light.
Despite his outburst, Jiwoong looks back at him with calm eyes. He says nothing, waiting for him to continue.
Hanbin inhales a gulp of air, searching for his words. He picks his head up, feigning confidence. “I’m trying to help the police. There’s something going on in the city, hyung.”
“What does ‘trying to help the police’ mean exactly? Searching obscure questions on the internet about murder and disappearances in Kyremia?”
If Hanbin felt like he was suffocating before, he definitely feels it now. He had been extra cautious in his research, purposely using a private window each time. “How did you–”
“You’ve been leaving your tabs open on the computer when you leave, Hanbin-ah,” Jiwoong says. “I don’t want you getting involved in something like this.”
Dammit. What careless mistakes. “But hyung–”
“I’m serious, Hanbin! Is there a reason you haven’t told me the address was linked to a murder?”
“It’s not confirmed murder yet!”
Jiwoong pinches his nose, releasing a hefty sigh. He stares back at Hanbin with worried eyes. “Don't you understand why I'm concerned? After what happened that night?”
Hanbin can’t deny his friend’s concern, he knows that. So he nods. “I get it. It’s not like I didn’t want to tell you after I went to that address, I’ve just been so . . . caught up lately. These police cases are all I’ve been thinking about.”
“Cases? As in, more than one?"
Hanbin still feels as if he’s in the corner and every question is like a jab at his chest. “Yeah. Well, um. There's been two, alleged, disappearances-”
“So you just believe the police officers, huh?" The older crosses his arms over his chest. "That these aren't murders?”
The suffocated feeling has since left, only to be replaced with perpetuating anxiety. Hanbin’s unsure why talking about this makes him feel so overwhelmed. It’s not like he doesn’t talk about this with Hao. However, standing in front of his witch friend, he can’t help but feel nauseous.
Maybe it’s because Jiwoong knows him better than anyone else. Or perhaps because he was there that night. Hanbin hasn’t fully healed from that time, still too haunted by the events to ever truly forget.
“Didn’t you say you’ve seen my search history?” Hanbin asks. His pale face feels warm to his touch and his legs start to quiver. “There’s been no evidence left at–” He cuts himself short, unable to continue because of the lack of airflow in his lungs. When he really feels like his legs are going to give out, he moves to sit in one of the empty chairs.
“Hanbin-ah!” Jiwoong calls, crouching down to his level. “Breathe, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
Hanbin has spent every day and night since going to the crime scene consumed with this case. He’s been too preoccupied to notice the mental toll it’s taken on him, and the resurfacing of hurt it has caused. It took being in the presence of his friend to come to the realization.
“I want to help, hyung,” Hanbin whimpers. Jiwoong reaches for his hand as he struggles through his deep breathing exercises, until he’s eventually calm enough to further explain himself. “I found that address in a mysterious note that was left in one of the returned books. It’s like a sixth sense, hyung, like I’m meant to help. I don’t— I don’t know how to describe it.”
“I knew there was something wrong that day at the library,” Jiwoong frowns, shaking his head. “Ultimately, no matter what I say, I can’t control your decisions. But look at how it’s affecting you. If you’re not going to back down then at least let me help you. I’m a witch too, remember?”
A bitter chuckle falls from Hanbin’s lips. “Well, technically speaking, they would have to accept my help first.”
Jiwoong laughs too. “So you’ve been pestering them?”
“Hyung…”
“I’m just messing with you,” the older waves a hand. “But I’m serious about my offer. I would do anything for you, Hanbin-ah.”
Hanbin looks down at his lap with a shy grin, “I know, hyung.”
“Message me whenever, no matter what time it is. I’m here for you.”
—
Driven by motivation, Hanbin decides to make a stop at the station after work. It would be the first time he’s come back since the phone incident from Wednesday night. So far, his visits here have been pretty consistent. Except, this time, who he expects to see at the front counter is nowhere in sight. He lets himself in anyway, pulling the door shut silently behind him.
He tries for the attention of an officer working at one of the computers. “Um, excuse me. Is Officer Hao here?”
The officer doesn’t look away from his screen but he thrusts a thumb in the direction of where Hanbin assumes the back offices are.
Before he can say anything further, he hears a raised voice muffled behind a door. He can hardly make out what the voice is shouting about, let alone who the voice belongs to. Then there’s a loud thump, like hands smacking down on a wooden desk.
“Pull yourself together, Hao-ssi! This isn’t a waiting game. The longer it takes you to figure things out, the more blood you have on your hands.”
“I’ve been working on this case nonstop, sajang-nim! Do you not understand how difficult it is?”
Even though Hao has been difficult to get through, he still feels his heart ache. Hanbin doesn’t know much, but something he does know for certain is that Officer Hao doesn’t have blood on his hands, and to be told that when stress levels are already high would send anyone into a spiral.
“You have until the end of the month to figure things out.”
“Just two weeks?! Sir, that’s impossible! There have only been two murders in just the last two weeks!”
“It’s not my job to hold your hand, Hao-ssi. Solve it yourself or call on external help. I don’t know what to do with you.”
Hanbin finally places the voice—it’s the same person Hao was speaking with in the back rooms on Wednesday. The gritted voice and the demeaning words echo in Hanbin’s head. I don’t know what to do with you . It stings, even though he’s not the one being spoken to.
Unlike last time though, he doesn’t turn to leave at the sign of distress. He stands with purpose, rooted in place. Hanbin didn’t have a good enough reason for coming here, but now that he is here, he’s glad he came.
The shouting eventually dies out and it becomes relatively quiet before the sound of a door creaks open and closes shut. It’s more than obvious that the young officer had an emotional reaction to the scolding, judging by his damp cheeks and reddened eyes, but Hanbin pretends not to notice. Hao doesn’t even realize Hanbin’s in the room at first, looking too preoccupied in his thoughts.
“Hey,” Hanbin says quietly. The other visibly startles and wipes under his eyes and at his cheeks.
“Hanbin,” he rasps. “What are you doing here?”
Hanbin still doesn’t have a proper answer for that. “Are you alright?”
Hao offers him a forced smile. “How much of that did you hear?”
“I got here a few minutes ago, so uh, probably enough.”
“Right.”
The lone officer at his desk rises from his computer, clears his throat, and excuses himself for one of the back offices. Meanwhile, Hanbin feels like he’s going to die in the suffocating, all consuming silence. He waits for the officer to collect himself, but when enough time passes by after doing so and it’s still silent, he takes it upon himself to jumpstart a conversation.
“Did you . . . want to talk about it?”
The other looks at him, like really looks at him, for the first time since entering the room. Then he shrugs. “Yeah. Sure, okay.”
Even though he asked the question, the quick affirmation is still a bit jarring. It’s not that he considers the officer an unfriendly individual, that’s not it. It’s more so that he hasn’t really warmed up to him yet. Maybe this is the other’s way of lowering his guard, even if just a smidge so Hanbin can peek inside. To finally show Hanbin a piece of his heart.
“Are you on the clock for much longer?” he asks.
The officer checks his phone. “I’m here for about two more hours. I’m due for a break though, let’s go outside.”
They sit down at the open picnic table around the corner, facing each other. Hanbin watches the officer twiddle his thumbs; he’s once again waiting patiently for him to begin talking.
It’s in the quietness that he realizes that he’s likely not the person that Hao wants to talk to about his burdens. Maybe Hanbin just entered the station at the right time, when emotions were high and no one else was around. Does the officer have other people to depend on? Judging by the two conversations he’s overheard between him and the other officer, it doesn’t seem like he has much support, if any at all.
So Hanbin starts there. “Who was that officer you were talking to?”
“He’s the Chief of Police.”
That makes a lot more sense, looking back on it. There was a clear power dynamic evident in the Chief’s words. “Why does he put so much pressure on you? I mean, I remember him saying that rookie officers can’t have the help of other officers on their first case, but not even he can help you?”
Hao deflates, even more than Hanbin would have thought possible. “It’s not his job. A Chief’s job is to manage and oversee the operations at the station, he’s not supposed to get involved.”
“So you just got dealt a bad hand for your first case?”
“Unfortunately.”
Hanbin wants to say it. He wants to say it so bad that he has to physically restrain himself and bite his tongue, even though it’s the perfect opportunity to offer his help once again. He won’t do it. Not yet, anyway. He’s not sitting outside with him to do that, he’s here now for a different kind of support.
“That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“Well, Hanbin, life isn’t fair.”
“What’s your full name by the way? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten the chance to ask.”
The officer’s eyes twinkle from the reflection of the bright moon above. “My name is Zhang Hao.”
Zhang Hao. What a pretty name, Hanbin thinks. He doesn’t know what else to say, at a sudden loss for words, so he utters something familiar. “Uh. Sorry again for um . . . the other night.”
The other waves a hand. “You don’t have to apologize again. I know you didn’t mean it.”
“Yeah. I’m usually very in control of my powers.”
Hanbin manages to get a laugh out of the miserable officer. His heart pulses with velvety warmth, seeing the grin form on his face. “Okay, Hanbin.”
Sitting with the other feels comfortable. He was admittedly a bit nervous about coming out here with the officer, just the two of them, but he finds it somewhat easy to converse with the other. This is the first time they’ve dug beneath the surface and discussed matters other than the ongoing case.
He wants to dig deeper. He wants to learn more.
“Is it true that humans dominate the police force?” Hanbin recalls reading this somewhere over the years, never really thinking anything of it until this moment.
“Sort of,” the other says. “Years ago when humans were the only occupants of Kyremia, humans worked all sorts of jobs. A lot of us stuck to this field in particular because it still prioritizes our kind. For what we lack in supernatural abilities, we make up for with a strong mind and the will to learn.”
Prioritizes our kind. The choice of words saddens him because it reminds him of what Kyremia once was. Back then, supernaturals were once the minority when they migrated into the city. Very soon they began to overpower the human population, due to their size, power, and just the copious amounts of new people moving into the small city.
The human population didn’t stand a chance. A lot of them migrated elsewhere, while the other half stayed behind to stay with their families in the only city they’ve ever known. They were comfortable here, despite the microaggressions and occasional prejudice. It’s not fair, considering they were here first, but there’s a superiority complex that some supernaturals feel because of their powers, and therefore impact on society.
It can be a sensitive topic for any human to discuss, so Hanbin doesn’t focus on those particular words. “So you’re all humans then?”
“Not exactly. Most of the officers are, but for instance our forensic team is more diverse. A lot of nymphs work there because they’re drawn towards landforms and other natural life. Our detective team is composed almost entirely of aasimars because they are very knowledgeable creatures with a vast understanding of the world. That’s just naming a few,” Hao explains.
Hanbin beams cheekily. “No witches then, huh?”
”Nope.”
A few beats pass that turn into a long stretch of silence. There’s a burning question that makes its way into Hanbin’s mind, tingling on his tongue. It’s in regards to the officer’s upbringing, but it would be too self indulgent if he asked it right now, even if it was just to fill the space. Fortunately, Hanbin doesn’t have to occupy the quietness this time. “Why do you want to help on this case so much, Hanbin? You never answered me when I asked you that night at the station.”
Hanbin could answer this question in a variety of ways. He could tell him the same thing he told Jiwoong a few hours ago, or he could crack open his heart a bit and discuss what he thinks the root of his motivations are, making things personal. One thing that for certain is that he doesn’t want to lie to the other—he has no reason to, after everything the officer has told him thus far.
“I know the letter falling into my hands was a mistake, but it just feels so . . . right?” Hanbin says. Even when he’s had the hours to process it more, he still doesn’t have a precise answer. “It’s like there’s this pull that keeps gravitating me towards the case, like a sixth sense. Whether that’s because of my insatiable personality or for some other unknown reason.”
“What do you mean ‘unknown reason’?”
“I’m not entirely sure. I mean–” he hesitates. It feels like an icy hand wraps its fingers around Hanbin’s heart. This is where he has to make the decision to spill his insides. He thinks he trusts the officer, and it’s not like he has to tell him everything. “There was an incident when I was younger. It involved my sister, my best friend, and I about ten years ago at a lake. Everyone turned out fine, but it was very sudden and frightening. Let’s just say that if we didn’t act fast, things would have ended much worse.” It’s a lot for Hanbin to talk about. He hasn’t had to talk about this in years.
He startles from his story when he feels Hao’s hand on his from across the table. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Hanbin. I’m relieved that things were okay.”
Hanbin nods. “I think that’s mainly why I want to help you so badly. I know I’ve asked you a million times, and I get it, you don’t have to say yes. I’ve bothered you enough as it is–”
“It’s okay,” the officer says, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Hanbin-ah. It puts things more into perspective now. Honestly speaking, I assumed you were just some persistent individual trying to meddle with our data, and who also couldn’t take no for an answer. Especially when I found out you were a witch. Regardless of us not all being human here, the other beings of Kyremia still look down on us.”
“Well, I do have a strong drive…” Hanbin laughs. “So it’s both that and because it feels personal in some way.” There’s more to his story, but he doesn’t feel the need to discuss it further and Hao doesn’t pressure him to either.
“You know,” the officer starts. “I’ve actually been considering your help these days.”
Something inside of Hanbin flares excitedly. “What?! Are you serious?”
The officer nods, smiling softly. “I mean it. It doesn’t make sense to me to keep denying you, now that I know your offer is genuine. I’m also not exactly supported around here, so . . .”
Hanbin can’t believe his ears. His hard work wasn't for nothing. “I would love to,” he says briskly with far too much enthusiasm. “It’s okay though, right? With the Chief I mean.”
“Of course. Outside help is permitted, he said it before,” the officer explains. “It’s also something that the police have done before with other citizens in the past. Usually for dangerous cases or for complex ones, like this one for instance.”
“Have you gotten any leads since the last time I stopped here?”
Hao sighs. “Leads have been a bit slow. This case isn’t a walk in the park, as you know, but I think the use of a librarian who’s knowledgeable about archives and records would be of great use.”
Hanbin’s on his feet, pleasantly warmed at the praise. “Don’t forget that I’m also a witch.”
“How could I possibly forget?” The officer laughs, and Hanbin follows suit. “You would be a great help to the team. So what do you say?”
Things have been looking up between the two of them, but Hanbin doesn’t want to accept so easily, even though he’s dying to. After all the times he’s come to the station and practically getting on his knees with each visit, he wants to make the other work a bit harder for it.
“Ask me again, but sound more desperate.”
Hao tilts his head. “But I am desperate?”
“I know,” Hanbin giggles. “I just. The build up, you know?”
The confusion on the other’s face clears and he nods in understanding. “Sung Hanbin, I would love nothing more than to have your assistance in this case. Two minds are better than one, we can do this together. It’s you and me, against all odds!”
Hanbin’s hunched over in hysterics, already nodding before he could voice his agreement. “Overkill, but of course I want to work with you. Now, let’s go back inside, I’m freezing.”