Kim looks up at the sign, which reads Jimmy's Furniture Warehouse. "Furniture, huh?" he says.
"Yeah, I got my couch from here," you say. "Jimmy told me a man's gotta diversify if he's gonna stay afloat in Jamrock."
"Is that so?"
He follows you in through the partially open roller shutter door. The warehouse is filled with lots of boxes, piled up on the floor and in racks. A little way inside, a man in a bright shirt with palm trees on it sits behind a desk, talking on a telephone. He finishes up his call, then puts down the phone.
"Heeeey! It's my man Tequila! How you doin' buddy?" he says, getting up to fist-bump you.
"Good to see you, Jimmy," you say.
He eyes Kim. "So, what can I do for you and your pal here? I got all the regular stuff, and some new arrivals too, if you know what I mean."
"I'm not here to buy anything today, Jimmy."
Jimmy puts a hand to his chest. "Oh, you wound me!" he says. He looks at Kim again. "Then what are you doin' here? Don't tell me you got bad news for me, you know how I hate bad news."
You put your hand in your pocket and pull out a few of the lime green pills. "Do these look familiar?"
The man squints at the pills in your hand. "Is this a trick question?"
"How about you just tell me what you know?"
Jimmy shrugs. "They could be anything."
"Come on, Jimmy. You haven't even looked at them properly."
"Hey, man, I know you wouldn't wanna have your old pal Jimmy wrapped up in no trouble. I'm just helping you ensure you don't go down that path. We help each other, see?"
"Sir, we've been given your name in conjunction with a serious investigation," Kim says.
Jimmy crosses his arms. "All right, who ratted me out?"
You put the hand holding the pills in your pocket and turn to Kim. He just looks at you, awaiting your next move. "I think I'm gonna make my purchases elsewhere from now on," you tell him. Kim follows your cue and you both turn to leave.
"Wait! Wait!" Jimmy cries. "Lemme see those."
You drop one of the green pills into his hand, keeping hold of the other one.
Jimmy turns the pill over and inspects it. "Oh yeah, I know what these are. Brand new synthetic opioids. Real popular with the young crowd."
"So you admit you've been selling them to kids?" Kim says.
"I mean, not directly, but I'm not an idiot, I know where my stuff goes."
"So where'd you get this stuff?" you ask.
"I've got a new contact who's bringing this stuff in through- wait, why am I tellin' you this? You gonna tell me why you're askin'?"
"There's been a number of deaths linked to these pills."
Jimmy claps a hand on your shoulder. "People die, Tequila. This is Jamrock, people die here more than they do other places."
Your mind drifts to memories of the young victims. "Most of them are just kids. They're too young to die from drugs. This stuff is dangerous, we need to get it off the streets before more people die."
Jimmy shakes his head. "I've gotta make a living here. What people do with the stuff once it's out there ain't none of my business."
You meet Kim's eyes, then look back at Jimmy. "We've got enough on you to bring you into the station," you say.
"Oh come on, you wouldn't do that to your old pal Jimmy Mack."
"You're not leaving us a lot of choice here."
He holds his hands up. "Oh, fine, fine. My back's up against the wall here. I'll get the stuff off the street, just don't mention me in your reports, yeah?"
You look at Kim again. He looks dubious, but nods.
"Okay, you've got a week. Get that stuff off the streets."
Jimmy crosses his arms. "You're killin' me here, man. Next time I see you you'd better be coming to do business with me."
You look at Kim as you walk away from the warehouse. He followed your lead and had your back, but you get the impression he didn't agree with your actions. "Do you think I made the right call?" you ask him.
"Oh, I don't know. Letting off a known drug dealer who shows no remorse for the lives he has ended?"
"Jimmy's not all bad. He's just seen a lot of people die. He really does like to help people, he sells stuff like insulin and antibiotics to the people who can't afford them."
Kim makes a non-committal noise in the back of his throat.
"Besides, do you fancy your chances getting that shit off the streets? Because I don't."
Kim sighs. "You're right. I hope we can trust him. We'll give him a week, and if the deaths don't stop, we bring him in."
You and Kim work some other cases while you wait to see if Jimmy Mack makes good on his promise. The green pills claim another life before the week is up and you're hoping and praying that it is the last. You want to be able to trust Jimmy, not because the two of you are pals, but because if he lets you down that will undermine Kim's trust in your judgement. You've made so many bad decisions, you can't afford to mess up again.
A week goes by without any more victims. And what's more, Kim keeps accepting your offer for him to come over to yours on Saturday. You still worry that he'll get sick of spending almost every waking hour together, but you're repeatedly reassured by his continued desire to spend time together.
You don't remember what your life was like before, not really. All you have is a bunch of evidence that points to you being a sad mess of a man. But you feel it more and more now, that sense of hope, that sense that the future might not be totally bleak. The hope that maybe, actually, the future might actually be far better than you could even imagine.
After your trip to the Paliseum, you have an unspoken rule to avoid nightlife and its associated temptations. Your leg is feeling a bit better now you've been going to the exercise class for a few weeks and have been doing the stretches Mrs Lopez showed you each day.
You and Kim go for a long walk and a picnic. You're surprised to learn that Kim not only owns a picnic basket, but also a picnic blanket that he made himself. You enjoy the weather and being out in nature and the food you made together, but mostly you enjoy being in Kim's company. You are unbelievably lucky to have met him. He turns to look at you with a smile, and at times like this you wonder if he knows how much you really love him.
"You know, it's been almost two months since I first started staying with you, Harry," he says after you've finished eating and are packing up the picnic basket again.
You look at Kim and wonder what he means. Is this an intervention? Has he got some deep dark secret to tell you? Is he going to get down on one knee? No, no, no, no. That's ridiculous. Let the man speak.
"I'm happy working at the 41st Precinct. Captain Pryce is happy with my performance. I think I should start to think about making this more permanent. Which neighbourhoods would you recommend I look for lodgings in?"
Suddenly you're transported back years ago when you were looking for an apartment. Everywhere was just awful, and small, and expensive. Out of desperation you settled on your current place, which was no better than anywhere else. "I, erm, I don't think I would."
Kim shakes his head. "Of course not." He's seen the state of other people's living conditions. It's not just you who's struggling.
"You'd be looking at something similar to mine, on our wages. I don't know what your place in the GRIH is like, but prices are high here. God knows why."
Kim shrugs. "I have no spare room, but my bed is in a separate room from my couch."
"Oh, how bourgeois."
Kim smirks. He looks like something occurs to him. "No, it's a silly idea," he mutters to himself.
"Let's hear it."
"No," Kim says again, and he stands up. You do too and help him to fold up the blanket you've been sitting on.
You begin walking back to your place. "So, this idea of yours…" you say.
Kim looks at you for a moment, then relents. "Some of your- our unmarried colleagues live together to save money."
"I really don't think I could live with… well, any of them." It wouldn't be a good idea, you think. They'd be a bad influence on you.
"Nor could I. Not with them, anyway," Kim says. He catches your eye, and smiles. "You know, they do say that two can live as cheaply as one."
You don't want to get your hopes up. But what else could he mean? You imagine how nice it would be to live with Kim. In a nice apartment, maybe even a house. Is that so crazy?
"You don't like the idea?" Kim says.
"You mean you'd actually consider living with me?"
"Yes?"
You can't stop yourself from grinning. "Wow."
Kim looks away. He's smiling wider, and shaking his head. "We don't have to make a decision straight away. Think about it."
"You mean, I wouldn't drive you crazy?"
Kim shrugs. "We've managed not to kill each other so far."
"That's true."
"Think it over. I wouldn't want to rush you into making a decision."
"We'd have to find another place. You don't wanna move into my place, it's got sad all over it."
Kim smiles. "Yes, and it isn't big enough."
"Yeah, you probably don't wanna share a bed with me forever, right?" you ask, and part of you really wants him to disagree with you.
"It's not just that," he says. "You basically live in one room. If I need some alone time, I would have to go into the bathroom or the closet. That's no way for a forty three year old man to live."
You nod. "So I'd have to move. We'd have to move together."
"As I said, just something to think about."
And think about it you do. Now the idea is in your head, you feel like this is the only future you can imagine. You and Kim, living together. Domestic bliss. You also wonder what this means about how Kim views your relationship. Moving in together isn't something most people rush into without thinking about it, even in the most poverty-stricken areas. You're sure not all of your colleagues who are roommates are secretly part of the homo-sexual underground, but they must be at least friends who feel pretty comfortable with each other.
Kim doesn't bring up the topic again that day, or the day after. There's no urgency, you know Kim wouldn't pressure you like that. At no point do you seriously think about saying no. But it's still a lot to think about.
You worry you might be unbearable to live with. Kim has put up with your bullshit so far, but he's never even spent a full week with you. How would he cope with a month, a year? You're trying your best to be a better person, for yourself and other people, as well as him. But will it be good enough?
There's also your feelings for him. That might complicate matters. In the short term, you know being with Kim all the time will make you happy. But in the long term, you don't know if your unrequited feelings for him will crush you. You've coped so far with seeing Kim half dressed. But what about once he gets settled in? Will he start to bring dates home with him? He'd have every right to, it'd be his place too. What if he gets a boyfriend and you have to sit there and watch them being lovey-dovey? And you'll be there filling the new place with sad until Kim can't take any more and ends up moving out. Then you'll be stuck on your own in a sad place you can't afford. And worst of all, you'll be without Kim.
You can't just sit back and watch that happen. You've got to say something to him before it's too late. Maybe you can convince him that with a bit more work on yourself, you might just be worthy of him. These thoughts plague you, and Kim notices your absences. He asks you a few times if you're okay, and that's a perfect opportunity to tell him what you're thinking, to tell him how you've felt about him this whole time. But you just… can't.
You feel time slipping through your fingers. Maybe you should just tell him that you want to move in with him, and deal with the other stuff later. But that feels like such a cop out. As your shift draws to an end on Tuesday, more and more you wish you'd said something sooner, when you had the chance when the two of you were alone.
As Kim walks out of the precinct, you hurry to walk with him, although you know very well that you're not going to say anything to him in the parking lot. Kim stops in front of the Coupris 40 and looks in through the window. "Damn it. I was sure I picked up my bag this morning. I must have left it at your place. Want a lift home?"
"Yes!" you say, and Kim smiles at your excessive eagerness.
You bite your nails on the drive. You've thought of nothing else for days, but you still don't know how to start this conversation without it coming off as totally fucked up and awkward.
Kim picks up his bag from yours, and leaves. You watch him walk down the corridor, your chance is gone. Unless… you call him back. But it's too late, he's gone.
No. No, it can't be like this. You have to say something to him. Now.
You run out of the building. Kim is already driving away. "Kim!" you shout, waving and running as fast as your bad leg will allow.
Kim must have seen you, because he pulls the MC over to the side of the road.
You stop, breathless beside it. Kim winds down the window.
"Before you go, I have to tell you," you say, bending over and leaning on the edge of the window.
"Harry, I think this is technically after I have gone," he says as you try to catch your breath.
"I've decided. Yes. It's a yes! I think your idea is good. We should live together."
"Great," Kim yells over the noise of the traffic. He looks a little confused that you ran all the way out here to tell him that. Another motor carriage swerves into the opposite lane to get around his MC.
"Wait! Yeah. Um, I have something else to tell you," you say, your heart hammering. Kim stares at you as you get down on your knees on the sidewalk. "Kim Kitsuragi, you're the coolest man I've ever met. I love you. I don't just wanna be roommates. I wanna be yours."
"Uh…" is all that Kim can manage. You scrutinise every tiny movement of his face, but your ability to tell how he's feeling fails you. He keeps glancing at the other vehicles swerving around his MC.
You fix a grin on your face to hide how truly petrified you are. You awkwardly scramble to your feet again, ignoring the sharp pain in your knee. "My heart belongs to you." You feel breathless. He's just staring at you, his mouth open slightly. "Listen, you don't need to say anything right now. Think about it, yeah?" You step back and point finger guns at him.
Kim nods jerkily. "I should go," he says, pointing to the road.
You walk away with as much confidence as you can muster. Your legs feel heavy, and you feel like you're about to pass out.
Did Kim just brush you off?
You're shaking and crying before you can even make it back to your apartment. One of your neighbours passes you in the hall, but she looks so high she wouldn't have noticed if you were naked.
You shut the apartment door behind you and lean on it, tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn't sense anything about how Kim felt about your confession. He didn't look happy. Shocked was about all you got. So he hasn't been secretly pining for you too, as you'd hoped. Worst case scenario, he returns to precinct 57 and you never see him again. Best, he lets you down gently and you continue as before, maybe becoming slightly awkward roommates. You wouldn't blame Kim if he didn't want to be your roommate any more after this. You'll tell him it's okay, you still want to be partners, you still want to be friends. You can't blame him for not feeling the same.
A blindly optimistic part of you chimes in. Maybe he does just need time to process it and think about how he feels?
You want a drink. Badly. That would make the unbearable hours between now and seeing Kim again in the morning pass much easier. But you know you have no alcohol here. You'd have to go get some. The man at the local Frittte might comment on your red eyes.
You shrug out of your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, then kick off your shoes. It's still early, but you get into bed and throw the covers over your head. Trying to sleep away your fear and misery seems hopeless, but you have no other ideas.
But sleep is hopeless. After an hour of running the worst case scenarios in your head, you get up and find your shoes so you can go buy something to drown your sorrows.