Chapter Text
Since the day one dared to set a foot on this foul place, the only thing to be heard was the distant names of victims and how cruelly annihilated those bodies were:
— "Haven't you heard? They found her body thrown in an alley, all dried out looking like a raisin!"
— "Yeah, he was found by the river downtown. Poor kid had it real rough, lookin' like a damn mummy.."
Yes, rough, they would say. As if suddenly, pity was affordable in the situation that the victims were found in. No flesh, no soul, barely an identity left — and even with funeral after funeral happening, nothing could ever bother much as the fact that no one seemed to ever had a description or happen to see someone acting suspicious; too many rumors, too little investigation. After all, why risk yourself with finding such ruthless killer when knowing that was basically suicide? No one wanted to do it, even if more and more people kept dying. More bodies thrown around, more people became angry at the police for not doing their jobs and even more people afraid to leave their houses at night.
It was too risky, too dangerous — too much effort when being locked up between four walls and a roof felt like routine.
And in amidst of all this chaos, the not so young Chen, found humself tangled in the wild mess. But not even if hu desired to, hu would ever be able to escape the growing hell that the small town was yet to become.
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[ . . . ]
The moon glittered upon the cold pavement adorning the floor, with the remnants of the thin dusting of rain that had just poured; the air could not be as refreshing even if it tried. Very few steps splashed against the puddles that had formed upon the solid concrete that couldn't feel any more colder, yet the clicker of certain steps stood out as hu turned around the corner and disappeared beyond the entrance that stood warm and bright within the dripping windows and rustic walls.
Heads turned around as the owner of said remarkable steps entered the rather crowded space, unbothered by the lingering gazes as if they were part of hus daily life; something that was not even worth of such precious recognition at that.
— Look who's out in the wild again.. — the bartender, whom seemed to be so familiar with the figure that just now had approached the counter that he was finishing to wipe clean, greeted with the casual warmth that went nowhere beyond customer service before continuing. — Had a rough day, huh? — The young man said, as he threw the handkerchief over his shoulder.
— Why, do I really look that exhausted? — hu replied, not hesitating to take a seat on one of the wooden stools.
— Darling, your dark circles look like you've been punched in the eye.
— Do they? — Chen questions, the hinting annoyance barely showing through the grin that soon curved on the plush pair of lips. — Maybe we should match then, Haru?
Soon after, a soft chuckle broke in between the small silence that had surged after such words. The playful banter from an outsider view would have seemed odd; inappropriate even. But in between the two that after many nights have grown familiar, it was as natural as a shiver on the feel of an ice cold breeze.
— The same as usual? — The Japanese man then asked, almost as if it was rhetorical, before receiving a nod from the other. And in the blink of an eye, he soon turned around and began picking a few items to begin on assembling the freshly made order.
Noise would be an euphemism to describe what filled that bar. With the clinking of cups; bursting of laughters; mindless chatter and the light fogging of smoke coming from those rather scent forward cigarettes, to not call it something else, seemed to make such cramped space become even smaller. If not for the faint ambient music, something adjacent to jazz, one would have already went insane. But soon enough, with the tart scent of dry red wine lingering right under hus nose, all muscles seemed to relax as a slim hand reached forward to pick it up.
— Here you go, sweetheart. — the bartender wiped his hand clean with that same handkerchief left on his shoulder earlier right after placing the wine glass down in front of his client. — Should I add it to your tab?
— Yes, thank you.. — rushing then to take a sip, Kuanjui felt the light bitterness hit hus tongue almost immediately. Yet, instead of being repulsed, hu felt nothing but the familiar relief that only a glass of some good dry wine could bring. But hu was no alcoholic, or at least not yet, as hu would insist. After all, there is nothing wrong with a few glasses here and there before, during and after work, right?
And as sips were taken one after another, the relaxation seemed to creep onto the lean muscles and allowing them to take a moment to breathe after spending relentless hours sitting in a cramped and dusty room folding, cutting, ironing, steaming and sewing pieces together. Not that it was a burden to hum, as it was actually quite the opposite.
But the thing is, when a hobby becomes a job; it grows pale and stale as hu humself would describe. Because when a passion becomes a chore, it bores; it tires and deprives. So even if hu loved hus job with all hus dull heart and soul, it strained every bit of energy and time. Friends became a luxury and wasting time was a loss of money. But oh well, it was not like there was much else to do in such boring town. It was a small place with even smaller neighborhoods, and everyone knew everyone. A bunch of people were harshly religious too, so it made it even harder for someone like hum to be included. It was lonely, solitary. Yet, time does not fail on teaching those in need that patience is key and that sometimes; it's better to be alone but in peace than surrounded by people who are nothing more than a cold and emotionless crowd made to fill up the gap that may exist within for a moment or so..
And sometimes; a bottle becomes said peace on accident. But what is there to do, if not move on and let the wind lead the way?
[ . . . ]
Darkness have now taken over the dimly lit streets, a few cars were parked by the pavement as the dressmaker almost limped around. Hus coat hung heavy on the shoulders, or at least it felt like it weighted tons after two bottles of that dry wine. And to be fair, that was a god awful decision to make. Yet, not one that hu had to be concerned about now; that was something for hus future self to deal with.
The heels of hus boots clicked against the still soaked pavement, running those bone looking fingers through the long strands of hair that felt as frigid as the gentle breeze. With a sigh escaping the tinted in reddish purple lips, hu tucked hus hands in the velvety pockets as a complaint was muttered under a breath;
— Hell, I knew I should've brought gloves.. — the whisper shuffled its path out on the wind as the fellow proceeded to walk.
Late night strolls such as this were quite pleasant if hu had to say so, something about the breeze tangling with the deep colored length of hus hair and the silence that sounded like the sweetest melody after all the noise from the bar. It was calm, relaxing. And that, was something hu cherished dearly when the crowded schedule was all that filled hum and hus day.
Yet, after a few corners were turned and some streets were walked up and some down, there was something that seemed to creep under the skin more than the cold. And out of extinct, or genuine curiosity, the not so oblivious drunkard turned around to see what could possibly be behind hum. But as expected, nothing was there to be seen. After all, why would there be? It was way beyond night time, and in a few hours the sun would soon rise along with the town.
Proceeding then to shuffle for hus keys inside the shoulder leather bag, the front door of the atelier was soon unlocked and pushed open. Yet before walking in, Chen took one last glance behind humself, continuing to then shake the doubts away and step forward with the wooden door clicking close right behind before locking. Because at this point, the ache for sleep was much more important than some foolish drunk paranoia. And with shoes taken off, coat hanged up on its designated hanger and a change into a nightgown, the dressmaker then proceeded to go upstairs into the bedroom.
With walls plastered with old sketches and a desk that was shamefully messy, the sleeping chamber was what brought home with hum to this place. The curtains fell with this fluidity that made the fabric look almost liquid itself, and hu hurried to pull them close together before laying down. Keeping the lights off besides the adorning lampshade standing close to the bed, the creature then closed hus eyes.
Even so, with all the alcohol in hus system; sleep seemed to be a distant reality. Shuffling here and there, turning around and around on the soft mattress, something still didn't sit quite right. Something held this mind awake.
But it couldn't be it, could it? No, it hasn't been a month. Has it? Oh, no. It couldn't be. Chen was careful with hus calendar, keeping the end of the thirty day cycle circuled with a red and bold marker. There was no possibility of that happening right now. The stash was supposed to be delivered in a few days, so why.. now?
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