Five in the morning and there was depressing vibe in the room. Mostly, it radiated off of Yuri who was belly down on the bed, ripping any clothes that were packed inside her suitcase. Not that it irritated her husband though. He was just as depressed as her. But she had a flight to catch in a few hours, and they made the mistake of doing it like two ferrets in heat instead of packing the night beforehand.
Another jacket was idly thrown across the room. "Hon, it'll just be a few days. I'll call you every night," MC reassured. "Would you help me pack?"
"...I don't wanna," Yuri muttered, pouting like a little girl. Dear oh dear. MC could imagine what their future offspring would be like.
"Do you prefer this one or this one?," MC asked, holding a purple dress and a navy blue dress up. She tilted her head towards the purple and she didn't fling it out the suitcase this time. Because she was too busy keeping her eyes on her husband.
"Finally acting like a grown up now?," he poked.
"Don't test me darling," she snarled with bared teeth. "I wouldn't fling that dress." She noticed a pair of underwear in the suitcase and fished it out. "This on the other hand..."
"Hm. I remember this dress."
Yuri rolled on her back. "MC, what's the point of packing such fancy clothes if you're not there to see me in it?"
"You sure you wanna be the only one at the party wearing a hoodie and sweatpants?," he asked.
"Pft. Screw them. I wouldn't dance with anyone other than you anyway. Might as well be comfy."
"How romantic," MC deadpanned. "But we did just do it for four hours straight last night, and you have a reputation to keep."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Tall, sexy writer girl who's also my wife."
She pursed her lips. "Ooooo. I like that."
The last of the toiletries were inserted between the clothes and the inner wall of the suitcase before he zipped it up. Good to go. MC did his part. Now all that was needed, was a little effort on hers.
"I promise to video call you every night."
A mischievous smile formed on Yuri's face. "Ho? So we can...talk?," she whispered.
"Depends if you've been good."
"How would you know?"
"Because I'll be watching the news. And if I see you in casual clothing, you can say goodbye to me doing anything you'd like on video."
"Anything?!"
Despite being married for well over two years now, he still could never understand what was going on in that eccentric mind of hers. He nodded his head. And while Yuri skipped over to the shower, MC was really regretting his promise. There was no doubt Yuri would be recording every second of it.
The cold morning air hit MC especially hard, but he pressed on, walking with Yuri to the Uber in nothing but his pyjamas and a sweater. MC ambled to the side of the car after packing her things in the trunk. Where he saw Yuri wear the most exaggerated frown he had ever seen.
"Bye...MC," Yuri fake-sniffled. "We've had a good run."
MC flicked her on the nose. "Good run indeed. See you in three days. Don't stay out too late, brush your teeth and remember to lock your hotel door, okay?"
"I love you," she whimpered, wiping a non existent tear from her cheek. "I love you. I'll never forget you."
"Idiot. Bye now. Love you."
And with a kiss goodbye, the Tesla disappeared into the fog, leaving MC feeling strangely nostalgic.
Natsuki had her eyes closed the entire time.
Her mind was racing with thoughts about the past two days. It always does, but for some reason whenever she's up here, on the rooftop of her workplace, the thoughts of morality and existence always seems to come to her. Like it were a snake coiling up her leg and whispering in her ear, but it wasn't to say she hated it. Actually, it was quite the opposite. The rooftop was, to her, what Grandma's house was to an overworked corporate drone. A place where you could be honest; unabashed and unashamed.
And, to be honest? She wanted to rip the railing she was leaning on right out from its stupid concrete foundation and throw it off the building with Hulk-energy.
This wasn't just Natsuki being Natsuki either. The anger had been building for a considerable while now, about a year or so. Ever since she poked her head into the deaths occurring all over Sydney. They were so called 'accidental' deaths, but Natsuki wasn't buying it. And this homicide was yet another case to solidify her beliefs that there was a murderer waltzing around town without repercussion.
Two days ago, at around five in the afternoon, Natsuki was at the crime scene of Helen Gray and Frank Gray at 4018 Woodridge Lane. Thanks to a connection she made on the inside, she was able to get there as soon as possible, maybe even as the police were showing up on scene and taking a little girl away from the house.
Natsuki leaned so far over the railing.
When she got there, they were already taking pictures and setting up those yellow markers to identify key points of evidence. But the air was sour. No one even acknowledged the pink-haired detective as she examined the place. Without permission, mind you, but she was known well enough that they knew she wouldn't contaminate the crime scene. Frank Gray had 28 stab wounds in his lower abdomen and a fatal bullet wound on the left side of his head, while Helen Gray was in the master bedroom with her throat cleanly slit open. The same woman with coral pink hair that extended all the way down to her waist.
"Is that someone you know?," Lucas asked, sipping gingerly on a Redbull.
Natsuki found it useful to be short sometimes: she could easily hide her emotions until someone crouches down. "No," she said plainly. "What do you think happened here?"
"Teenager takes revenge on his parents," he replied. He followed her as she tip toed around and discovered the broken chair in the kitchen, the duct tape and the ludicrous amounts of dishes in the sink. She looked up at him and he shrugged. "After he cooks a lovely meal for himself."
"I don't see his room."
"Ahem. Adult decides to take revenge on parents."
"You'd have to be a real monster to hurt a little kid."
"They always are. Say Natsuki, do you think I should quit drinking energy drinks?"
She crouched down next to a man in white overalls, taking pictures of Frank's bloodied wounds. Although it was difficult to get a better picture without moving him. He was laying in a particularly weird position, one that would make any sleeping, alive man's right arm go numb in a few seconds. Semi-belly down, and semi-on his side, against the wall. And still grasped in his bloodied hand was an equally bloodied kitchen knife.
"So you fought back huh...," Natsuki murmured. "Then you must've left a blood trail..."
"Natsuki-"
"-let me guess," she finished. "Dead suspect?"
"Yeah. Homeless fella with stab wounds about 'this' big," he yawned, extending his thumb and index finger to match the height of the kitchen knife. There wasn't much talking after that. It was only during an afternoon visit to a cafe straight after when Lucas piped up about how Natsuki was acting. He could practically see the cogs in her mind whirring under stress.
She stopped looking out the window and noticed that he had a concerned look in his eyes. "What?," she snorted after taking a bite of her cupcake.
"You look like you could use some sleep, that's all."
"Be quiet."
He smiled. "Look, I agree with you. In all my years, I have never seen a crime scene as poorly staged as this," he admitted. "You know it, I know it, everyone knows."
"Then why isn't anyone doing anything?!," she growled. "Why are the police ignoring this?!"
The atmosphere in the cafe was warm and vibrant. Tired couples walked in from their day of work and filled almost every seat. The sun was setting and orange light flowed in through the large panes of window the two detectives were sat next to. To anyone else, they would say that it was sad to see them bring their work with them wherever they went. Especially Natsuki. Her knee was bouncing up and down incessantly. She was thinking of ways she could get in contact with the little girl- Eleanor, hoping that she would have some useful information for her, when Lucas broke her train of thought.
"I would hate it if the law didn't apply to me," Lucas mumbled to himself.
"We're detectives," Natsuki scoffed. "We could get away with anything. So long as we have the proper justification."
He leaned forward with his hands stuffed in his coat. "Don't you think that's immoral?," he asked in a low voice.
"How so?"
"The law is a collection of ideas. A collection of what people believe to be right and fair. If you break the law, you break society's beliefs, and you'll be punished accordingly," he spoke.
Natsuki's leg stopped shaking the more she thought alongside Lucas.
"But what happens if the law doesn't even apply to you?," he elaborated. "What does that mean? It means there's no difference between right and wrong, because you won't be recognized for either. You'll be the loneliest human in the world. You could do anything you wanted, and no one would care."
"Sounds like my murderer's pretty rich if you ask me."
"Maybe...he's an alien?"
Natsuki got up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and ruffling her hair. This day felt particularly long for her and she wasn't looking forward to spending it with an apathetic detective. "Goodbye Lucas. Hey, do you think I could get in contact with Eleanor Gray somehow?"
"I think not, but I'll see what I can do," he chuckled, leaning back in the chair. "Better be quick. I bet they're already planning on killing her."
For a second, Monika really did think she was dead. When she opened her eyes, the blackness hadn't changed and her body felt numb. To the point where it almost didn't feel like it belonged to her anymore. So she laid there in hollow stasis for a while, thinking about how red Frank's blood was- about how red his face was, when she could slowly begin to feel her limbs again. Along with the pain, of course.
She was lying flat down, and the nurses must've not adjusted her pillow right. She cursed whoever gave her this strain in her neck while wriggling to sit up, but all it did was jostle the stitches in her belly. They were happily stationary and perfect until she woke up.
With time, her eyes gradually adjusted to the dark. She was in a small care unit no larger than a typical bedroom. 'Perhaps this was the one they made just for me?', she wondered, noting the lack of patients to her left and her right. Granted, there was also a lack of sharp things to kill people with, and she was in no condition to use her hands. But now that she could see a bit better, there was a lot of things lacking actually. She didn't know that there was supposed to be 'Get well soon!' balloons and flowers and little toys when she woke up- instead all she saw was sterile boringness. For some reason she craved a happy meal. She always liked those stupid little toys inside.
"Happy thoughts...happy thoughts...!," she screamed internally as she got off the bed. She moved like her muscles had been recently frozen, but within the hour she was standing, albeit with a slouch. Standing against the glass wall that separated her hospital room from the dark world outside, with pretty vertical lights in the distance. A particular building stood out to her. The company logo was hard to see, but it was her workplace alright. How far had she gotten? Couldn't they have just taken her to a normal hospital like a normal human being?
The door slid open behind her. She turned around by shuffling her feet around and saw a silhouette amble inside.
"...are you...the stripper I asked for?," she groaned through grit teeth.
"Lay back down Monika," the gruff voice commanded. He set down a tray of plastic looking hospital food on the table next to the bed- where all the beeping monitors were on.
She stumbled back into bed. "Yeah. Yeah I think that might be a good idea." Her voice was hoarse and quiet.
He propped a chair up next to her bed where Monika could see his face clearly. Well, as clearly as the moonlight could allow her anyway. He was a bald, Caucasian man wearing a suit and tie. And he spoke before Monika could ask him if he was gonna spoon feed her or not.
"How are you feeling?"
She smiled. "Better. Now that you're here," she said. "I was starting to get a bit lonely."
He nodded.
"Who are you?," Monika asked, barely audible.
"I'm your bodyguard. I'm here to make sure you don't get killed."
She gave him the side-eye.
"And to make sure you don't kill yourself."
"...that sounds more like it," she mumbled. "Well...I hope you brought a novel or something. This is gonna be one boooring nightshift for you."
"Looks like. I'll be here if you need anything."
Some people wake up to their parents or their significant other staring them right in the face, but Monika? Nope, for her, a bodyguard will do just fine. An hour after she woke up too, an added insult to injury. With her eyes fixated on a particular spot in the ceiling, she began to think about her love of her life.
MC. She wished she could be there with him. He must be lonely, she thought. With no Yuri to keep him busy, video games, novels and movies just wouldn't cut it. Not without a brunette by his side.
"Hey um..."
"Anton."
"Right, Anton. This...is a little embarrassing. But can you help me eat?," she requested with extra strain sprinkled on for effect. "I'm not much in state to talk, let alone move my arms."
He helped her sit up. He rested the tray of food in her lap and began feeding her small spoonfuls of porridge as he talked. "What happened?," he asked. She narrowed her eyes.
"You don't know what happened?," she clarified with a cheek full of mush.
"I'm just here to guard you. I wasn't told much else, other than your wounds."
She looked down at her torso. "Well...I got stabbed. Frank and I got into a bit of a heated argument."
"Frank?"
"This asshole who...," Monika took a deep breath to calm herself down. "...who calls himself a father. Called, actually."
"Monika, you don't have to talk about this."
Soon, the veil of sarcastic tough-girl fell apart, and Monika was quickly breaking down in tears. "...my God Anton...," she cried. "The things this man would do to Eleanor. I-I couldn't let it..."
"It's okay. Just eat."
When she had cleaned her tray, her eyes slowly met with Anton's. She had been looking down this whole time. "You...said if I needed anything?"
He nodded.
"...can I have a hug?," she asked. "N-No, I'm sorry that's..."
He looked down at his feet, then back at Monika's fallen eyes, before letting his empathy take over. This night had been less Anton the bodyguard, and more of Anton the substitute family member. He did feel bad that not one single soul had come to check if the brunette had been okay.
He felt her slender arms wrap around him like she would fall to her death if she let go. His three-piece suit now stained with tears when Monika began sobbing into his shoulder.
"I've...gotta ask," she sobbed. "How much is this suit?"
Blood splattered across Monika's face for the second time when she impaled his throat with a scalpel from the back. She looked down at the crimson blade sticking out his throat, then back into his horrified eyes, before pulling the scalpel out. The last thing he saw, gurgling and choking on the floor, was Monika standing over him looking mildly annoyed. That same look was plastered on her face while she washed the blood off his clothes in the bathroom sink.
"Wet..," she mumbled as she walked down the dark corridor. She felt like she had just walked into a freezer when she left the hospital and into the outside world, now looking like a hitman who had taken a dip in the pool. She got into Anton's car.
"Oh MC...," she said to herself with both hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'll be there soon enough. I just...wanna see you. We don't have to do anything."