Seungmin left a gift for him when he returned home later that afternoon.
Like a cat that leaves a dead cockroach or half eaten bird on your doorstep, Seungmin often left gifts fully wrapped in Christmas present packaging in the dead center of his house’s doorway. At least the delivery people had the decency to set the packages he ordered after an online shopping binge off to one side or the other, not directly in the middle by a perfect margin, complete with Santa Claus and reindeer heads taunting him underneath a pretty little silver bow, and a note that was usually left empty aside from a signature identifying the package as Seungmin’s gift. As if he should be honored. As if he should feel blessed that the annoying thing even bothered with him at all.
Well, anyway. Inside of the Christmas wrapped package, after he kicked his shoes off in the foyer of his house and slung his sweater off somewhere to be picked up later, was a brick. Kind of? A black brick, with a wrist strap and a few buttons on the side. It was only after he pressed down one of the buttons and the divot in the block lit up with electricity, did he realize he was gifted exactly what he wished for. A stun gun. A thick, military grade stun gun that he could easily conceal in a jacket. Again, maybe he was just a whore after all, because he was going to suck Seungmin dry the next time he saw him if he kept listening to his requests like this.
Back to business. He abandoned his button-up for the most inconspicuous hoodie he could grab from his closet (Some white hoodie with big graffiti letters that said “I eat asbestos”, he had seen it while he was in New York and lost his mind so badly he purchased it), slipping it on before jumping into a lazy pair of sneakers. The stun gun hidden in the front pocket of his slacks along with his phone, he grabbed the guitar case from where he kept it hidden by an old quilts blanket in the corner of his closet and laid it on the floor. Undoing the silver latches to prop the lid open, taking inventory on what he had, scope, magazines, one large precision rifle spray painted over black, check.
With the coming twilight filtering against the hard-case strapped down his back, Jisung sped off atop his old motorcycle. His sturdy old Yamaha from the 90s that kept him companionship since his senior year of high school, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon or replace the hardy silver with anything else; A car? Cars were expensive. Motorcycles were cheaper, more cost and fuel efficient, plus he could avoid traffic even in the busiest hours such as now. While the scatter of rushing traffic was dwindling from it’s earlier peak yet still clogging up the freeways, he was able to swiftly maneuver around the barricades, slipping past even the thickest of traffic backing up on the lanes as he kept his eyes glued to the navigation map on his phone. Back to business. Back to the same neighborhood as that night.
Nearly silent now that the evening had overtaken the sky and street lamps faintly glowed their presence onto the sidewalks like spotlights. A residential area as Jisung mentioned before, typical family houses with dining room lights flipped on brightly while they spoke over dinners, spaced appropriately to not be butted up one against another, the hiking trails leading off into the soft hillside behind, and the slope that overlooked some of the city beyond the guard railing parallel. Steps that connected the higher area with the rest of the residential streets below that drop-off. Save for the occasional student jogging up those steps, or the here and there businessmen that went into a house, the only people out at that time were himself, a gray cat that scampered out to him as soon as he parked his motorcycle, and a man snacking on watermelon gummies as he sat on the railing.
He didn’t pay any attention to anyone else aside from a simple glance and mental note to not linger in the neighborhood for longer than necessary to avoid raising suspicion. However, the gray fluffy cat did stay close to his heels, so he picked up the animal and held it in his arms while he roamed the sidewalks.
There wasn’t much in particular he was looking for. Of course, he wanted to start searching for Seo Changbin but with a serious lack of clues to go off of, he would have to hold off on any brash decisions yet. In the center of the road he meandered by, the wreck had already been cleaned up; The damaged car swept away most likely to a junkyard, while any hints of shattered glass or bent metal that may have flown off during the collision had already been picked up, however the evidence of brake marks slamming to a stop was still stained onto the asphalt. The only proof that wreck had been real and not a strange hallucination his mind made up after being stressed for so long. If only there was some sort of clue they left. This would be leagues easier.
Readjusting the bundle of fur in his arms as the cat wobbled to get comfortable, he scratched behind the gray cat’s fluffy ears as the stray settled again with it’s paws against his shoulder and it’s tail swishing. Ensuring to secure the adorable fuzzball from slipping out of his arms while he approached the front of Changbin’s house. Taking more than a brief second to scan over the homely appearance; Again, a typical house for a four person family that needed the extra space of three bedrooms, two floors, an alabaster finish to the walls stacked atop one another and a rooftop slanted with shingling firmly wedged together, an ordinary place for an ordinary person to have slept in. The front door of the building now locked up from being left wide open.
I’m not the best at tracking people. Would my best option be to break into the house? Where else am I supposed to find evidence if not inside?
Jisung sighed gently to himself, squishing the kitty a little bit as he shuffled aimlessly forward on the sidewalk, trying not to make his staring as obvious as it seemed. Briefly attempting to recall the last few moments he had seen Changbin.
There may have been something on his laptop that alerted Changbin to the people coming to take him. Or something inside of his house.
Gradually shuffling his way back to his parked motorcycle. The cat inside of his arms finally having enough of him as the wormy body wiggled free and shoved against his chest, dashing away from him at record breaking speeds back to a house on the corner of the block. To occupy his hands instead, he looped his thumbs into the shoulder straps of his guitar case. Running the pads of his fingers over the in-seems while he considered his options. Though he felt the eyes of that strange man on the railing lingering over him, he didn’t pay him any attention as he passed by.
There has to be something inside, right? I’ll have to come back later tonight or on another day, there’s too many people here right now and I don’t have any equipment aside from my rifle.
“So, what are you? Some kind of musician?”
Jisung rooted in his spot, shifting back to the strange man that spoke up as his hand slipped back to linger over the stun gun in his back pocket.
Quickly raking his eyes over the man with judgement and taking in his appearance in a moment. Still sat peacefully atop the dense guard railing supporting his weight, the soles of his sneakers pressed into the metal frame to support him as he shoved another watermelon shaped gummy into his mouth. Unassuming and terribly normal looking. Like any other man that Jisung would pass by on the streets at any point in the day. Beat-up blue jeans and an oversized scarlet knit sweater over top without any particular distinction meant to protect him from the cold of the autumn evening. He seemed to have a wallet and his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, while a bright Doraemon themed lanyard clipped to his belt loop held a bundle of keys attached to his hip.
Though, as he mentioned before, this man seemed without a doubt as normal as a person could come. As ordinary as a background character that would squish against him in the trains or accidentally brush his shoulders on the sidewalks. Albeit, an attractive one. That much Jisung could admit. Prominent cheekbones and a well-sculpted nose, standard black hair that framed his features against the cascading of the street lamp above him. A balanced appearance in his face and his body, even beneath the large sweater he seemed to be well-formed. Plus, he had those eyes. Darkened pupils, shaped narrow and suspicious toward what they saw like a feline’sー Jisung always had a thing for eyes like that, eyes that stared through him rather than at him.
“Are you talking to me? No, no, no, I’m a high school teacher, I teach literature at a private school on the south side of the city,” Jisung quirked the corners of his lips up at the man, attempting to keep his appearance as friendly as possible to hide his hand tightening on the stun gun in his pocket. Strangers talking to him out of nowhere usually wasn’t a good sign. In about fifteen seconds he was either about to be flirted with, assaulted for his wallet, or horrifically uncomfortable all the same. He prepared himself for any one of those to come true as he answered, “Playing guitar is just my hobby.”
“Is it heavy?” The man wondered, digging his fingers toward the bottom of his gummy bag to remove another sugar coated watermelon slice and slip the treat past his lips. Now that Jisung’s attention was there, his lips were shaped well too. Slightly pudgy and bowed at the top, a pleasant rosy color to them even underneath the darkness of the evening.
“It’s an acoustic guitar, it’s made of wood,” Jisung kept his smile up. Hurriedly trying to pull his eyes off of exploring the unknown man’s features to chase over him once more, however his eyes lingered on a certain spot. At the base of his sweater, where his stomach would typically sit, an odd bulge in the fabric appeared and disappeared as the man shifted over, “Why would it be heavy?”
The stranger brushed his fingers off on his jeans, the sugar coating from the gummies clinging to the fabric instead. He stood up from the railing, pocketing the bag of gummies. Before his hand reached down to the hem of his sweater to pull the fabric up ever so slightly.
Beneath, where the disturbance Jisung spotted was, a holster sat tightly to his lower abdomen. A holster for a pistol, and a tactical knife that looked all too recent in his memories.
“I meant the sniper’s rifle.”
Jisung’s heart sunk in his chest.
He startled back to put distance between him and that man, grip tightening down on the stun gun as he prepared to use it. Of course, those fucking feline eyes from that nightー
But the man just gently raised his hand as he dropped the sweater, palm facing Jisung as if to placate him. He then pointed toward his guitar case with a gentle smile, “I don’t mean any harm to you. It’s just, the cinnamoroll sticker. It gives you away pretty quickly.”
Shit.
He knew he should’ve put that sticker on his work laptop.
It was a gift from that girl in his last period after he sat with her when she was upset over a fight with her friend, and he really couldn’t bring himself to let it rot away in some dark corner of his house. But, it meant the world to him. And it meant even more when he was able to snap a picture of the outside of his guitar case and showed the picture to her after their class, even if he knew it they were all lies when he told her about the nonexistent hobby, how happy she had been to be included amongst the hundred other stickers he smacked onto that case.
So, Jisung straightened up, allowing a scowl to slide into his features as he distanced himself from the strange man again. His hand still lingering over the stun gun in the case he had the wise idea to try anything with him, and if he was so fearless to attack him that night, something pinched in his mind to tell him to stay on guard. There’s no doubt about it. He would certainly try something again if he wasn’t careful. It was the tightening of his hand by his side, or the shifting of his weight, or the eyes drilling into where he reached behind him, Jisung could only scoff at him, “You’re the dumb bitch that tried to stab me?”
“My name is Minho by the way, not dumb bitch or fucking asshole, so please call me my correct name. And I’m sorry for almost stabbing you, but you hit me in the neck with the rifle, almost broke my wrist, and kicked my chest in,” That strange man, uh, Minho. His name was Minho apparently. Jisung observed him carefully as he reluctantly pulled his gaze off the teacher’s hand tucked behind him, instead stepping back to distance themselves and laced his arms firmly over his chest. Keeping his hands far away from the weapons on him. As he spoke, “I misunderstood why you were there, but I swear I don’t have any grudges toward you. So, come on, I’m curious. How heavy is it?”
There was something so… Casual about this man. About what Minho was doing. Easing in the manner he kept his fingers tightly squeezed onto his biceps that folded over, as if to say he wouldn’t reach for his pistol or for the tactical knife and even if he did, Jisung would have more than enough time to react with where he kept his hands. Relaxing in the manner he wasn’t tense like Jisung was, he was utterly calm in front of him as if they were nothing more than two friends having a typical conversation underneath the street lights. The lack of intimidation allowing Jisung to gradually let go of the stun gun behind him and answer honestly, “8.3 kilograms with scope and magazine inserted.”
“And you can run while holding that…?”
“I have practice.”
To his surprise, Minho just whistled a light note in shock. Amazement? He seemed more amazed, with the manner his gaze lingered over Jisung’s hands and arms. He pressed off from where he stood, keeping a clear width from Jisung as he passed by him and began trampling down the sidewalk. Still keeping the conversation going as he started to walk away, “Why were you here that night?”
“Why else? The same reason you were,” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at Minho’s back. Where is he going? Lingering in his mind as he could only observe what he was trying to do. Belatedly realizing once Minho stopped to turn back to him, that he was supposed to be following after him. Even more belated realizing, taking more than a few seconds longer than he wanted to admit, that Minho was walking toward where Jisung parked his old motorcycle. Was Minho trying to walk him to his motorcycle? Why? Reluctantly, Jisung shuffled after him to walk along side by side, “You’re not attacking me now.”
“Like I said, I misjudged why you were there. Aside from that, it’s not like you have a bounty or anything on you, so I don’t care much,” Minho kept his hands clutched tightly to his arms. With every step they took, the other seemed to keep a steady distance spaced between them. Within arms reach, but not grabbing distance. Maybe he was as cautious about Jisung as Jisung was of him.
The hitman glanced over to him,
A bounty? A bounty hunter?
“What is a bounty hunter doing, going after Seo Changbin?” He looped his thumbs around the straps of his guitar case once more. Fiddling with the seems while they approached the side of the motorcycle.
“Not him. The information he stole is what I wanted,” Minho corrected with a gentle hum. As they finally reached the motorcycle, his eyes quickly escaped from Jisung to glanced over the vehicle and his small bit of pride; He worked hard to keep the metals polished and the chassis washed clean, the engine fixed up with repairs, the headlight’s beam strong, that motorcycle was equivalent to his students in his mind. Not to mention, Minho seemed more interested in the motorcycle than his own words, “I’m sure you know about the situation, since you’re after his head. Someone placed a bounty to retrieve the USB he took from the pharmaceutical company too. And instead, he was kidnapped, along with the USB and his laptop I was supposed to take.”
Jisung took his guitar case off, balancing it in front of him as he leaned himself to sit back on the motorcycles seat, “Is it as irritating for you as it is for me?”
“Oh, you have no idea!” The bounty hunter suffocated a bitter laugh, the sound almost a melody to Jisung’s ears that had him smiling back. Though, he still had to keep cautious. He still had to be wary. His fingers still bundled into fists above the guitar case, and he kept a strained eye on Minho’s movements as the man cocked his hip and asked, “What’s your name? We’re in the same line of work, after the same thing. You want Seo Changbin, I want his information. I don’t care much if you’re not against me, and as I see it, we’re on the same side.”
“It’s Jisung,” He really wasn’t sure why he was honest. He could’ve made up a fake name or used his callsign, but, with he couldn’t help but answer in kind to the bounty hunter’s own geniune honesty.
Minho pulled the bag of watermelon gummies out of his pocket. Widening the opening as he gestured the bag in offering.
But he… Hesitated. What if he was a creep! What if they were laced with marijuana or even worse, fentanyl! Or if they had arsenic in them! Cyanide! Illegal! Criminal! Sure, he saw Minho eating out of the bad earlier but what if he slipped something into the gummies when he wasn’t looking! Or what if when he put it into his back pocket he laced the gummies with something!
After a moment, the bounty hunter grabbed his wrist. Forcefully surrending his hand as he jostled the last watermelon gummy out of the bag and into Jisung’s palm, “I have better things to do with my time than drug or poison you with watermelon gummies.”
He folded the empty bag up in his hand, shoving it into his pocket once more as he turned over his heel. The Doraemon lanyard jingling with every step he took. A wave tossed back to him as he left Jisung by his motorcycle.
“I’ll see you around, Sweetheart.”
Jisung watched his back, the built tension on his shoulder blades the farther he grew.
Interesting. A bounty hunter too? What sort of information do you have to be hunted so thoroughly, Changbin?
Glancing down to his palm, he took in the sight of the little watermelon gummy in his hand. Pastel colors, coated in a thin layer of powdered sugar, squsihy and soft where it laid innocently in his grip.
Washing his apprehension away, he gingerly plucked the watermelon gummy up and pushed the candy into his mouth.
It’s…
Only to cover his mouth with a sob.
It’s so good!
▄︻デ â•â•â”一á°.áŸËŽËŠË—
Somehow Jisung’s strongest character trait in this story so far is “loves food”
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