Work Text:
The bar lights shined blue as the song turned more upbeat. People swayed to the music, drinks in hand.
The target was situated near the corner, away from the dancing crowd, leaning in close to a woman in a red dress. His hand rested on the small of her back, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered something that made her laugh. He was flirting, oblivious to the watchful eye amongst the crowd.
Jae had been following him for three days now, and tonight, he was close. So close he could almost taste the breakthrough.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
The needle buzzed, a low electric hum that was the heartbeat of the studio. Jay Lee worked with the focused precision of a surgeon, his gloved hand steady as he laid down the final lines of a koi fish on a young man's forearm. The air thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint, metallic pungent of ink.
"Alright, you're all done," Jae commented, his voice calm, the practiced tone of a professional. He wiped away the last traces of blood and ink, revealing the vibrant, swirling design. "Keep it clean, use the ointment I gave you, and no direct sunlight for at least two weeks."
The client, a nervous-looking college student, let out a breath which he seemed to have been holding for the last hour. "Thanks, Jae. It looks even better than I imagined."
"It's my job." Jae replied with a small, easy smile. He peeled off his gloves and disposed them, his eyes briefly scanning the room. His gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on the mirror above the sink, where a partial reflection of the street outside was visible. A black sedan had been parked across the street for the last three hours.
He turned to his workstation, his cheerful demeanor not faltering for a second.
In public, he was an award-winning tattoo artist, who'd established his own place, in the heart of Bridon.
To those who knew better, he was a secret agent, sergeant Jae Lee, affiliated with the supernatural abilities unit.
His eyes shifted between the student and the mirror. The student paid with his card and left after politely thanking him.
The mirror illustrated his slim build, with medium-length, dark blue hair that fell around his face, just slightly past the nape of his neck.
His eyes often closed or in a narrow squint, were black, as he looked into his reflection.
He wore a fitted black turtleneck and a silver chain necklace connected to his earrings, layered under a light gray jacket. His pants are wide-legged and dark gray, secured with a gray belt and a black strap around his left thigh. He wore black socks and light gray shoes with metal accents.
His next client was a woman in her fifties getting a small forget-me-not for her late mother. He chatted easily with her, his hands moving with practiced grace, all the while compartmentalizing.
The black sedan, a mustard car, a courier on a bike outside. His mind cataloged every detail, every potential watcher. His handler, a woman with the code name ‘Lens’ who’d been helping him with his mission of dismantling a organization called ‘the eye’.
Just as he was finishing the last petal, the little bell above the door chimed. Jay looked up, a reflexive customer-service smile ready.
The man who walked in was...interesting.
Tall and lean, with sharp, almost aristocratic features. His dark purple hair fell in soft waves past his ears, partially obscuring a pair of narrow, intelligent eyes, behind his circular glasses, that held a languid, almost bored quality.
He was dressed in a long, flowing black trench coat that reached his calves, the fabric swaying with each unhurried step. Beneath it, a loose, black colored button-up hung open at the collar, revealing the elegant line of his collarbones, paired with tailored black trousers and polished leather shoes. A silver chain glinted at his neck, catching the studio's fluorescent light.
There was something effortlessly graceful about the way he moved, like a cat entering unfamiliar territory. Watchful, assessing, but utterly unbothered.
But what was up with that hat? Who even wore such a thing in this heat? Alas, he didn't have time to dwell on it, as the client himself, addressed him.
"Jae Lee?" The man's voice was a low, velvet baritone, smooth as aged whiskey. He offered a slight, almost lazy smile. "I've heard you're the best. I hope the rumors are true."
Jae blinked, momentarily pausing in his work. He recovered quickly, his professional smile back in place. "Well, I try my best. What can I do for you today here, at my humble place?"
The man stepped closer, his eyes doing a slow, deliberate sweep of the studio. The flashy portfolio on the counter, the awards on the wall, the various sketches pinned up for display. His gaze finally settled on Jae, and there was something almost playful in it.
The woman had gotten up by now, assessing the design, upon satisfaction, she left her payment on the counter, momentarily pausing to glance at the other customer.
Nevertheless, she passed the man and stepped out of the studio door, as the bell chime signalled her departure.
"I have a design in mind," he said, reaching up to unbutton his shirt further. The fabric slipped aside, revealing smoothness of his collarbone more evidently, even a glimpse of his chest. "I want something here. Small. Simple."
Jae gestured to the chair, contemplating the practicality of the tattoo. "Have a seat. What exactly are you thinking of?"
The man settled into the chair with the easy grace of someone used to being comfortable, tilting his head back slightly to expose more of his neck. He reached into the inner pocket of his trench coat, producing a folded piece of paper.
"Here," he spoke, handing it to Jae. "A symbol. It has...personal meaning."
Jae unfolded the paper carefully. It was a simple, smal geometric design. A circlish design with intricate lines folding outward, almost like an ancient rune, or a stylized eye.
"Interesting." Jay murmured, genuinely intrigued by the design. "This is beautiful. What does it represent?"
A small, enigmatic smile played on Liu Xiao's lips. "Let's just say it's a reminder…of what I believe in."
Jae nodded, not pressing further. He transferred the design to stencil paper, carefully positioning it just over Liu Xiao's collarbone. The proximity was a bit distracting, the faint scent of expensive cologne, the warmth radiating from the other man's skin, the way Liu Xiao's eyes remained fixed on him with an almost unnerving intensity, as if he didn't bother to look anywhere else.
"Alright, this might sting a bit," Jae warned as he picked up the machine.
The needle hummed to life, and Liu Xiao didn't even flinch. Instead, he let out a soft, amused breath. "You know, I've always found this process fascinating. The permanence of it. Marking your body with something that will outlast you."
Jae docused on the lines, his hand steady. "Is that why you're getting it? For the permanence?"
"Something like that." Liu Xiao's voice was soft, contemplative. "There's something poetic about it, don't you think? Choosing to carry a piece of art with you forever. A story etched into your skin."
"You sound like you've thought about this a lot," Jae observed, glancing up briefly. Their eyes met, and something electric passed between them.
"I think about a lot of things," Liu Xiao replied, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "You have very steady hands, Jae. I imagine that's important in your line of work. Trust, precision... intimacy."
Jae flashed a wider grin at that. He diverted his gaze away, focusing on the symbol's curves. "It's just practice. Lots and lots of practice."
"Modest." Liu Xiao observed. "I appreciate that. Do you have any tattoos yourself?"
"A few." Jae admitted, "Nothing remarkable though."
"I'd like to see them sometime." The words were casual, almost throwaway, but there was an undercurrent to them that made Jae's heart skip a beat.
"Maybe if you come back for a touch-up," Jay deflected, his voice steadier than he felt.
Liu Xiao chuckled, a low, warm sound. "I'll hold you to that."
A few more minutes passed in comfortable conversation. Liu Xiao was easy to talk to. Witty, intelligent, with a dry sense of humor that caught Jae off guard more than once.
He spoke about traveling, about art, about the strange beauty he found in unexpected places. He asked his inspirations, about what drove him to pursue this craft. Jae found himself answering, the usual professional distance blurring into something more personal.
"So, what do you do, Liu Xiao?" Jae asked as he worked on the final details of the symbol. "When you're not getting tattoos, I mean."
"Ah." Liu Xiao's smile turned slightly mysterious. "I'm just a student here. Though, I dabble in some stuff here and there.
“Care to share, what stuff?”
“It's nothing remarkable."
“I see” Jay respected his boundaries. But something about the way Liu Xiao said it, the deliberate vagueness, made his instincts prickle. There was more to this man than he was letting on.
"And you, Jae?" Liu Xiao turned the question back on him. "You seem too interesting to be just a tattoo artist."
"Just a tattoo artist?" Jae feigned offense. "I'll have you know I've won awards."
Liu Xiao laughed, the sound filling the small studio. "I'm sure you have. But there's more to you, isn't there? I can tell."
Jay's stomach tightened. He forced a casual shrug. "Maybe I just like keeping things mysterious."
"Mysterious," Liu Xiao repeated, savoring the word. "I like that."
By the time Jae finished, the sun had set outside, painting the studio in warm amber light. He cleaned the area carefully, the fresh ink gleaming against Liu Xiao's pale skin. The symbol sat perfectly, at the upper space between both his collarbones
"There." Jae said, stepping back to admire his work. "All done."
Liu Xiao rose, moving to the mirror to inspect the tattoo. His fingers traced the edge of the symbol, a look of genuine satisfaction on his face. "It's perfect," he said softly. "You're truly talented, Jae. Not many can draw curves this precisely."
"Thanks," Jae replied, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest at the praise. "Just make sure to follow the aftercare instructions, and come back if you have any issues."
Liu Xiao turned to face him, and for a moment, they stood in comfortable silence. Then Liu Xiao did something unexpected. He stepped closer, close enough that Jae could see the faint pattern of his irises, the slight part of his lips.
"I'll be seeing you, Jae." he said, and there was a promise in the words that made Jae's breath catch.
He paid, left a generous tip that Jay tried to refuse, and walked toward the door. But just before he stepped out, he paused, turning back with that same enigmatic smile.
The door clicked shut behind him.
He shook his head, trying to dispel the mix of intrigue and unease that had settled in his chest. It was just a farewell, the kind of thing mysterious people said to sound profound. Nothing more.
But as he cleaned his workstation, the words kept swirling in his mind. There had been something in Liu Xiao's eyes when he said it. A knowingness that made Jae's skin prickle. As if Liu Xiao saw something in him that Jae himself couldn't see. As if he knew something.
It was truly ridiculous. He was just a client. But even as he locked up the studio and walked home, the feeling lingered.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
A day had passed. Jay tried to focus on his work, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the elegant man. He found himself glancing at the door, half-expecting Liu Xiao to walk through it again. It was stupid. He'd had memorable clients before. This was nothing.
Jay's phone buzzed with a notification. A message from Lens.
'We believe this symbol is the key. All members have it inked somewhere on their body. We're working on identifying the leadership. Keep your eyes open. Send any leads.'
Jay scrolled through the images. Grainy surveillance photos of shadowy figures, meetings in dimly lit rooms, transactions in back alleys. And there, on each of them, a small tattoo. Like a stylized eye.
His eyes twitched.
He opened his client portfolio, scrolling frantically to the previous day's entry. He pulled up the high-resolution photo he'd taken of Liu Xiao's tattoo. The standard studio documentation for every piece he completed.
He placed the images side by side. The symbol was identical. Every curve, every line, every intricate detail.
It was a perfect match.
Liu Xiao was connected to the organization. The very man who had sat in his chair, who he had a pleasant conversation with, whose words had been swirling in his mind unforbidden.
He was one of them.
Jay breathed slowly, his jaw set. The hunt was on. He had Liu Xiao's face, his name, and the undeniable evidence of his tattoo.
He had a lead.
The thought appeared in his mind that this all felt…intentional.
He couldn't shake the feeling that Liu Xiao had known all along. That he'd walked into that studio knowing exactly who Jae was, and he'd chosen to sit in that chair anyway.
And that thought, more than anything else, made Jae's blood run hot with a strange, dangerous thrill.
He opened his secure messaging app and typed a reply to Lens. 'I have a potential lead. Name: Liu Xiao. Will update soon.'
He sent the message and leaned back, his mind already racing ahead. He needed more information. He needed to find Liu Xiao, to confront him, to understand what game he was playing.
But first, he needed to get back to work. He was due to open the studio in an hour, and he couldn't afford to raise any suspicions. He pushed himself up from his desk, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
As he moved to unlock the door, the image of Liu Xiao's smile flickered through his mind. The warmth of his presence, the velvet of his voice, the promise in those dark, intelligent eyes.
I'll be seeing you, Jay.
Jay's fingers tightened on the lock.
Yes.
Yes, you will.
An ominous grin marked the corners of his mouth.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
He was in the middle of preparing his station for the next appointment, his back half-turned to the door, his hand grazing the police badge he had, as he turned it over in his hand, when he heard the bell chime. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting another client.
Instead, a man, his target, stood frozen in the doorway, wearing a crisp business suit. It was the same man he was tailing at the bar for the past few days. His eyes were fixed on something in Jay's hand.
Jay looked down.
His police badge holder. The small leather folio that held his ID, his credentials, everything that marked him as an officer. He'd been reviewing case files earlier. He'd picked it up without thinking, the familiar weight of it grounding him as he sorted through his thoughts.
The man in the doorway stared at the holder for one heartbeat. Two.
Then he ran off.
Jae watched the man dash off, he gave him a headstart as he stretched his own limbs for the chase.
Jae flew after him, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and instincts.
Jae's feet pounded against the pavement, his lungs burning as he pushed himself harder. The man was fast, but Jae was faster. He'd trained for this. He'd trained for so much more than just chasing informants through back alleys.
The burning. The Bahati School.
The memory hit him like a physical blow. The flames, the smoke, the screams. The children. He'd been too late. He'd been so close, but he'd been too late..
You can't save them all, Jae. You can't save anyone.
His vision blurred, but he pushed through it. He always pushed through it. The pain, the guilt, the endless weight of what he'd seen and what he'd failed to stop. It was fuel. It was what kept him going.
The man turned a corner, and Jae followed, his legs screaming in protest. He was gaining. Just a few more meters. Just-
He tackled the man to the ground, sending them both sprawling across the grimy alleyway pavement. The man grunted, struggling, but Jay had him pinned in seconds, one knee on his back, one arm twisted behind him
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
The man was swiftly handed over to the police.
He'd gotten the details he'd wanted out of the man. Unfortunately, he was still just an informant. He had a long way to go before he could reach them.
Jay strolled on the pavement as he was on his way back to his tattoo parlour. His hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers.
Ring. Ring.
His phone rung with the familiar ringtone. Jay fished his phone out of his pocket. The screen showed an unknown number. His thumb hovered over the decline button.
But, something made him answer. Something about the timing.
"Hello?" His voice was clipped, guarded.
A voice spoke up, low, velvety and unmistakably familiar, as if he'd been waiting for this.
"I've been counting down the hours, Jae. When will you come find me?"
The rest of the conversation flowed into indistinctive chatter, however, one thing was for sure.
Jay would be the moth, who'd hunt down his prey and with this one call, the flame had called him home.