Haku was glad when she finally got home. Not just because it meant she could put the day behind her, but because her father wasn't home, having been held up at work according to the text he sent her. She just didn't feel like facing him today. No. It would just be her and Luo.
When she shut the front door behind them, for a moment there was no other sound but the creaking of the wooden floor they were standing on, and the rain gently pattering outside. The house felt cold and dreary.
The first thing Haku did was go upstairs to the bathroom and turn the shower on. While waiting for the water to heat up, she stripped down and threw her clothes in the sink in the laundry. They would have to be soaked. Back in the restaurant bathroom, Luo had helped clean her up as best she could, but it was a poor job. After all, they only had paper towels at their disposal.
As Haku stepped into the warm, steamy shower, she sighed in relief. There was nothing like a good hot shower after a long day. The cake that had been smeared into her skin was washed off and disappeared down the drain. Good riddance. She didn't know if she'd be able to even so much as look at another piece of cake for a while.
While she showered, Luo went into her room and grabbed some clean clothes for her. As she opened the closet, she caught sight of the corner of Emma's sketchbook from underneath a coat and some shoes. She immediately shut the closet and found some clothes for Haku in the dresser.
Once Haku was clean and dressed, she suddenly felt very tired. She now wanted nothing more than to collapse into her bed and sleep for a thousand years. She felt as if she had exerted enough energy and emotion to last her several lifetimes.
She crawled under her covers and curled up, staring blankly out the window at the grey clouds beyond. After a while, she heard Luo come into the room, kick off her shoes, and lay on the bed next to her. Her arms encircled Haku's waist. Haku let herself bask in the warmth from her friend's body, a welcome comfort after the day she'd had.
Xingchen was not pleased. She hadn't achieved much progress in the way of interviews and information from the family and friends of the deceased. Not to mention how fucking rude Qingxian was to her. What a bitch.
She kicked off her muddy heels in the entranceway of her tiny little townhouse. The building was silent. Her sister Haiyi must be out. Or asleep.
And if she was out, then she better be careful. There was a serial killer on the loose, after all.
Xingchen went into the kitchen and made a cup of tea, which she carried into the living room and sat down on the table. She sank onto the sofa and put her feet up. She idly traced one finger around the spirals on her notebook.
That notebook went everywhere with her. It had seen so many interviews. It had been subjected to so many words and secrets and stories being pressed onto its pages. It was one of her most prized possessions.
And now it would be seeing another story.
Xingchen sighed. Today had been a long day. And it wasn't exactly worth it. She had barely gotten any information out of anyone, which was super annoying. Like, come on! She had a big piece she was trying to write. Couldn't they just help her out? Just a little bit? Throw her a bone or two to keep her going?
Of course not. The victims' families were grieving and the police had promptly shut down any and all conversation. She was getting nowhere.
It was time to start digging further.