Here's chapter 2! :]

Thanks to all the people who reviewed for the first chapter, by the way.

Reading this chapter depressed me.

Maybe it's because I already know what's going to happen?

Hmm...

Anyway, enjoy and please review :3


The Present—Year 2019:

Shih-na woke up with a sneeze. Something was tickling her nose. What the—, she thought, pushing whatever it was away from her nose. It was her feather boa. She sat up.

She was alone. But, she wasn't cold. Shih-na finally realized that she was wearing Lang's jacket. She made a disgusted look and quickly took it off. Stupid Lang, she thought to herself, I don't need your help. But, too bad for her, it was really cold as her arms were exposed to the humid temperature of the cell. She groaned. "Stupid. Stupid. COMPLETELY STUPID," she grumbled, putting the warm jacket back on.

She lied back down and slept on her side, her face buried in a sleeve. Breathing in, she smelled a familiar scent. This scent… It's Lang. She started to reminisce about the only thing she actually enjoyed doing—and that was working with Lang. All the excitement, all the suspense, it was never that fun in the courtroom. Never. She relaxed and fell asleep with the slightest smile on her face.


Thirteen to Sixteen—The Past—Year 2012:

I heard the sounds of footsteps and Lang's second subordinate.

"Shifu! I have apprehended the suspect!"

Then, I heard the sound of his voice.

"Good job."

Next, it was the sound of the criminal's voice.

"Why are you even trying to arrest me? What have I done?"

He let out a laugh, letting his fangs show.

"Well, you tried to run when I clearly yelled 'freeze'. And you're a suspect in this case."

I stay silent, waiting for my boss's next order.

"This is wrong! You can't do this!"

He stays still, a cue for me to stand in front of him. Simultaneously, we take off our glasses—we rehearsed for it for many hours. After that, I back away again, waiting.

"I can. See, you wronged the law. And…"

He extends his hand—he's waiting for a scroll. I walk up and give him the one containing an appropriate saying.

"Lang Zi says…"

I'm not paying attention to what hesays. Rather, I'm wondering why I actually put effort into doing this job. Eventually, I will leave Lang, and the Interpol Agency, and move on, forever a puppet of the smuggling ring.

I am so deep in thought I didn't see him walk up to me. His second subordinate is with him, as well.

"Shih-na," hesays, "I would like you to address this second subordinate as MiB—he is my third-in-command from now on."

I look at him—I was confused, but did not dare show it. "… Third? What happened to second?"

Helaughs—is it at me, or with me? "Shih-na," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "you're second-in-command."

Off guard, I accidentally show hima surprised look.

MiB laughs, "Ms. Shih-na, you did not know that? Why else would he make you his trusted secretary?"

Trusted…? I don't answer either of them, and MiB walks away, getting our transportation to the Agency ready. However, I'm still stuck on that word. Trusted. He's a fool if he trusts me; I work for the smuggling ring. Even though I'm not loyal to it, it doesn't mean I'm loyal to this wolf-boy either.

Hepats me on the head, smirking. "You know, apprehending suspects is much more exciting when doing it with others." Walking toward the car we came in, he adds, "And you look really vulnerable when you space out like that. Keep that in mind."

I turn a little pink out of frustration, but not just that. There's a hidden emotion I can't put my finger on. It begins with an "L"… Laziness? … Maybe not.


The Present—Year 2019:

A guard softly clatters on Shih-na's cell bars with the keys, whistling a tune out of ennui. "Ah, I never thought being a police officer would mean watching women sleep…" he said, turning to see Shih-na glaring daggers at him. He yelped.

Still trying to stay in character, she tried to scare him so much he'd run away, but utterly failed—her stomach growled. Clinging to her remaining shards of pride, she asked, "… What am I going to eat?"

The officer gulped. "Ah, Ms. Shih-na…" he started, looking from side to side frantically, "Mr. Lang has actually requested to bring you food for today—after all, you'll only be spending today here."

She sat up, confused. "What do you mean only today…? Where am I going after this?"

"Oh, no. Me and my big mouth… Mr. Lang's going to chew me out." The guard turned away, and gave her the bad news: "Well, you're going to have a quick trial to officially confirm your guilt of your crime… Then, you'll be put on death row."

Shih-na did not say anything back. … Are you serious? I'm going to be put on death row that quickly…? Nothing could escape her throat, and her hands trembled.

"Ah, you see, you seem to be a special case," he said, looking at something other than her, "you're being bumped up a few months since you've got a whoooole list of crimes of pay for."

She sat back, and curled herself into a ball on her bed. She turned away from the guard and uttered, "… Just tell me when my food gets here." The guard turned away just in time to miss Shih-na shudder. Why am I like this? I knew this day would come... Why am I so afraid now? I have nothing to lose, right?


Lang stepped out of MiB's car and held a three-meal lunchbox in his hand.

"Shifu…" MiB said, looking very worried behind his sunglasses, "are you not cold? You don't have your jacket with you."

He just remembered—he had put it on Shih-na. That's right… he thought, looking at his black, thin long-sleeve shirt, she was shivering when she was sleeping, so I…

"Shifu!" MiB said in a concerned tone. His other subordinates came flooding to him from other vehicles and they anxiously asked him what was the matter.

Lang knew he couldn't worry his whole pack, so he confidently looked at them, and roared, "Nothing's wrong, you hear me?"

His 99 subordinates and MiB all sighed in relief. "Shifu's back to normal," MiB said gladly.

"Now, this might be the last time I'll get to visit Shih-na, so I don't want any of you to follow me," Lang ordered, and his pack softened. They started jumping to conclusions.

"Shifu…" one subordinate said.

Another continued, "Do you…"

Lastly, yet another asked, "Do you like Shih-na?"

A drop of sweat fell from his head. He turned pink. "AIYA!" He yelled. "Where the—where did you get such an idea?"

MiB shamefully raised his hand. "Shifu, I'm sorry," he said with an agonizing look on his face, "I've been gossiping to everyone here!"

Lang facepalmed, and glared at all of them. "I want to make this clear," he started, "Shih-na and I had a professional relationship. Nothing happened between us, ever." He stormed off into the building, to Shih-na's cell.

As he got farther and farther away from his subordinates, his steps softened—he did not want Shih-na knowing he was coming. Her sentence to death row was too swift, Lang thought, tightening his clutch on the lunchbox. Hopefully, this is going to be a good surprise for her. He was referring to the food, of course.

He was down the hall from her cell, and his heart started pounding. Calm down, Lang, he tried to coax himself, she hates you. She's not going to do anything. He took a breath in, and almost took a step. He stopped.

He heard someone sniffling.

"Ms. Shih-na…"

Lang immediately rushed into her open cell, concerned. "Shih-na?" He dropped the lunchbox and shoved the guard away from her bed.

Shih-na looked up at him, looking very irritated. She sniffled again. "What?" She was a bit sick.

"Oh." Lang scratched his head, a little embarrassed. I thought you were crying, he thought and he slowly got down to pick up the lunchbox.

Shih-na was quiet… until her stomach growled again. She tried to make it stop by putting her hand on it; it didn't work.

Lang looked up at her and laughed. "Are you that hungry?" He smirked at her and handed her the lunchbox. Seeing as he was a third wheel, the guard left in a hurry.

She reluctantly took the lunchbox—her stomach was practically in an uproar. She opened it and smelled the heavenly scent of Lang's own homemade cooking.

She gave him a glare and a frown to match, which meant that she was grateful he had brought her food. She grabbed the fork and started to wolf it down.

He just watched her. He was already happy knowing she was enjoying the food. He then noticed that she was still wearing her sweater. He was expecting to get it back, but he would be glad to lend it to his one and only secretary.

This food is delicious… Not that I'd admit that, Shih-na thought, now finished with the first meal. She closed the Tupperware and sat up. She sniffled. She looked up at Lang, and he smiled.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

She scowled. "I was hungry. I would've eaten something else if there was anything. Anything."

Lang's smile disappeared. "Aiya," he muttered, focusing his gaze on how his jacket looked big on Shih-na.

She was glaring at him, but he didn't seem to notice. She realized she was still wearing his jacket—which was very warm—and she quickly took it off and threw it at his face. "You know," she snarled, "you could've just asked for it back instead of staring at me!"

He pulled the jacket off his face and put it on. "Look, Shih-na…" he started.

"Do I have to say it again?" She quickly turned her head toward the wall. "Shih-na isn't my real name," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Lang took a seat on the floor. "And, have you remembered your real name?" he asked, focusing only on Shih-na.

She grimaced. "No, okay?" She didn't dare turn her head. "It's not like it matters."

Lang stared at the back of her head. "Don't feel too bad…" he said, trying to console her.

Still not turning, she yelled at him. "How bad would you feel if you forgot your own name?"

Lang pondered on this. If I forgot my own family name… he thought anxiously, I think I would arrest myself!

As Shih-na watched Lang give off hysteric expressions from her question, she groaned. "You don't get it," she said angrily, "so stop trying to butt your face in my business!" She sniffled in anger.

Lang's expression turned into one of concern. "Shih-na, I'm just trying—"

"I know what you're doing," she said. She hid her face from him. "I know I'm going to be dead soon."

Lang remained speechless. He couldn't say "you're wrong"—she was right. But, he didn't want to admit that that was the reason he was there.

"I'm right, aren't I?" she asked, turning to him.

Lang tried to hold her shoulder, but she brushed him off. "How long?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" Lang said, unsure of her question.

"After the trial," she said, piercing his heart with her gaze, "how long do I have?"

Lang hesitated. He couldn't possibly tell her that. The time she had left would surely devastate her. "I… I don't know."

Shih-na scoffed. "Don't give me that lie."

He took in a deep breath. "I don't think you would want to hear it."

"I'll be fine. Just tell me," she urged.

He looked straight into her eyes, and replied, "11 months. Normally, it would be years until it was supposed to happen, but…"

She froze. When she finally started moving again, her hands were shaking uncontrollably. "W-what's wrong with me?" She cried.

Lang was greatly concerned now. "Shih-na, it's a normal reaction—"

"No it's not!" she countered. "I knew what I was getting into when I joined the ring. They told us, 'Be ready to throw your life away for the sake of money.' I was fully prepared to die… but why am I so scared now?"