Chapter 16

Aren sits slouched in his chair, the wood creaking faintly beneath his weight. His arms hang loosely over the armrests, Hijgerta’s warm tongue lapping absentmindedly at his fingers.

But the detective barely notices.

His eyes are fixed ahead, locked onto the chaotic web of photos, notes, and red string that stretches across the board in front of him. His gaze lingers on one image in particular―Yuki.

The word “BAIT” is scrawled beneath her name in his own handwriting, the ink jagged from the pressure he used.

His face is tense, unreadable, but his eyes are troubled. And then, the voices begin.

“Instead of protecting that poor girl, you’re using her as bait!” He hears his uncle, angry and disappointed.

“I just wanted to thank you for walking my Yuyu home. It means a lot to me that someone is looking out for her.” Yuki’s grandma.

Then he’s back in front of the coffee shop, his heart pounding as he watches Dori sexually assault Yuki.

“So you saw that, huh? You didn’t help me though..” He remembers her face when she said those words―her eyes filled with disappointment.

Aren exhales loudly, the sound heavy in the small shed.

After a moment, he tilts his head to the side, his gaze shifting to a photo sitting on the shelf nearby. It’s in a white frame, standing out from everything else around it.

In the photo, Aren sits next to a young girl on a hospital bed. She looks fragile, her skin pale and delicate. Her head is bald, the result of her treatments, but her blue eyes are wide and bright, full of life despite the illness that took so much from her.

On her head, she wears a soft green frog beanie, the same one that now rests in Aren’s lap.

This girl is Aren’s younger sister, Laura, who passed away three years ago after a long battle with cancer. 

They were best friends, always together. Laura had this wild, carefree energy, and Aren loved spending time with her. A lot of Aren’s weird behavior actually came from Laura. She loved spewing nonsense just to mess with people, saying things that made no sense at all but doing it with such seriousness that it left others confused or even a little freaked out.

She would find bugs, insects of all kinds, and carry them around, like tiny pets. She’d show them off to everyone, even to random strangers, shoving them in front of their faces just to see their reactions.

But more than anything, Laura looked up to Aren. To her, he was the coolest person in the world―because he was a detective.

She would listen eagerly when he talked about his cases, even when they were just exaggerated stories he made up to impress her―always making himself sound like the greatest detective in the world. No matter how ridiculous they got, Laura believed in them completely, and at school, she would brag about him to her friends.

And Aren had loved that.

But then, one day, Laura became sick. It happened so suddenly, it was hard for Aren to process.

But even though the little girl was in pain, she never stopped smiling or laughing. She didn’t let the sickness change her. She would still joke around, still find ways to entertain everyone around her.

Aren never saw her cry or feel sorry for herself. She was always strong, always happy, even when her body was failing.

When she got closer to death, Laura looked up at her brother, grinning despite her fragile state, and said with a twinkle in her eye, “If I turn into a ghost when I die, I’ll follow you around everywhere. I’ll be there in your investigations to find out if you really are as cool as you always tell me.”

For a moment, Aren just stared at her, his breath caught in his chest. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to think about losing her.

Laura just gave him a soft smile. “I’m kidding,” she said quietly. “I already know you are.”

As time went on, Laura’s condition worsened, and she found herself stuck in bed more and more. She couldn’t go around and spew nonsense to strangers any longer, which really frustrated her. She missed it, and she would complain about it from time to time.

She’d sigh, looking longingly out the window, wishing she could go outside and cause a little chaos like she used to.

Aren couldn’t stand seeing his sister like that.

So, he did it for her.

He started acting just like Laura, doing all the weird things she used to do. He’d say strange things to random people and even to his coworkers, make up bizarre stories, and carry around bugs―especially worms. Then, he would tell Laura about it. 

Every time he told her a new story, Laura would laugh so hard, her body shaking with the effort. The sound of her laughter was like music to Aren’s ears, and it made everything feel just a little more normal.

But as the days went by, her laughter became quieter, gentler, like it was slowly fading along with her strength.

One evening, Aren came in with another story, his voice full of excitement as usual.

But when he looked at Laura, she just grinned at him, her smile faint, and her eyes barely open. But Aren didn’t stop. He kept talking as if nothing had changed, his voice full of enthusiasm as he finished telling her about the latest absurdity he’d pulled off.

He tried to keep his own voice steady, but his chest felt tight, and his throat kept threatening to close up. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want her to know that he could feel it too―that she wasn’t the same anymore.

And then, in the silence that followed, he heard the steady beep of the machine next to her bed, the sound slowing.

A sharp, heavy silence filled the room.

Aren’s heart dropped as the beeping gradually stopped. His breath caught in his throat.

The doctor’s voice came, quiet and unemotional, saying the words Aren already knew.

“I’m sorry. She’s passed.”

Aren didn’t stop. He didn’t break down. He just continued talking, his voice trembling but still going.

He finished his story, his words coming out more ragged as tears streamed down his face. His hands were shaking, but he kept holding her hand, his grip tight. He didn’t want to let go.

When the last of his story trailed off, the detective leaned down close to his sister, his voice barely a whisper.

“If you really turned into a ghost, please stay with me.” He choked back a sob, pressing his forehead to her hand. “Watch me weird out the bad guys as I catch them.”

Aren sighs deeply, wiping away the tear that escapes his eye as the memory rushes back to him.

It’s been years, but it feels like yesterday.

He shakes his head, trying to push the weight of it away, but the sadness lingers, heavy.

Hijgerta, his golden retriever, seems to notice. She lets out a soft whine, her ears flicking up. Without hesitation, the big dog slowly climbs onto Aren’s lap, her paws pressing against his thighs as she settles there.

Aren lets out a small laugh despite himself, glancing at the dog who’s now snuggled against him, her large body taking up most of his lap.

She starts licking his face, her warm tongue brushing against his cheeks in soft, almost frantic motions.

Aren can’t help but laugh, the sound shaky and raw. “Hey, stop,” he mutters through his smile, but he doesn’t push her away.

“Ah.. My little booger eater,” he says, his voice softening, a warm smile spreading across his face as Hijgerta continues to shower him with affection. “I don’t know what I’d do without you..”

Aren’s eyes drift back toward the board, and his smile fades as his gaze lands on Yuki’s photo again.

Then he reaches out slowly and wipes away the word “BAIT”.

“I must’ve been out of my mind,” he mutters to himself, his filled with regret. His fingers linger on the smudged ink before he pulls his hand away, clenching it into a fist.

His jaw tightens as he leans forward, staring hard at the board. His thoughts race, running through every possibility, every angle he might have missed.

He needs a new plan―fast. Yuki is still in danger. There’s no time to waste.

○○○

Aren doesn’t remember when exhaustion finally took over. His body had fought it, his mind refusing to rest, but at some point, the weight of it all dragged him down.

Now, his face is buried in his arms, papers scattered around him, a pen still loosely held between his fingers.

The dim light of the shed flickers, casting long shadows over the mess of notes, red markings circling names and places―half-finished thoughts abandoned in the night. 

Morning comes and goes.

By the time Aren stirs, it’s already late afternoon. The sun hangs low in the sky. He blinks at the clock.

His heart drops.

School is over.

Yuki is probably already on her way home.

Alone.

With Dori.

“Shit!”

○○○

Footsteps echo down the quiet alleyway as the two walk side by side, Yuki clutching the strap of her bag tightly while Dori lingers just a little too close.

And then―

A sudden yelp echoes through the alley.
 
 
TO BE CONTINUED…

Author’s note: I just realized I’ve given Worman (Aren) so much backstory, like, way more than Yuki HAHAH. But don’t worry, it’s all coming! Yuki’s and Dori’s backstories are just waiting for the right moment! 😀