The group coordinated a plan of action and split into two; the officers started straying towards Wukong Street for the clubs, and the detective trucked to the corner store not a few blocks off with a trail sticking close behind.

The corner store didn’t have a name. It was owned by a middle-aged man whose children had all left their hometown years before, and he lived a somewhat comfortable life amongst his Wonsung-du neighbors. Paul was known by anyone who was anyone in his portion of the cul-de-sac, as he was a major supply for late-night snack runs and early morning goods. He was friendly and kind. Too kind, perhaps. Kind enough for The Watch to park their lawn chairs in close proximity to his shop doors, but that was because they never let him ask them to leave.

So it was a familiar sight for Nora when she approached the store with the detective. An assortment of bright, foldable chairs were arranged in a semi-circle not far from the tables set up near the store’s entrance, but instead of facing their usual view of the intersection they were turned completely around, facing the wall. A gaggle of elderly were not far off, looking up at the wall in a collective daze and exchanging complaints here and there. The wall itself, in two stories of its bricked glory, was spray-painted in saturated colors and brisk strokes to the picture of a giant mecha robot. It was a wonderful sight, but one that was unwelcomed.

“That wasn’t here this morning,” Nora muttered. The detective glanced at her.

“Someone tagged that in the middle of the day? That’s ridiculous,” he said, “You probably didn’t see it.”

“But I did, there was nothing there—”

He shushed her.

This already wasn’t going well.

They got close enough to overhear what the onlookers were complaining about. The most prominent figure was a wiry elderly woman, dressed in tight clothes and balancing a large red sunhat on her head, the brim almost hiding her face. It wasn’t the season nor the hour for such a hat, but she knew that. Everyone knew that. She wasn’t a head officer of The Watch without it.

“I know it’s that boy. Y’know the one I’m talking about. That skinny one with the tattoos on his arms. He spelled trouble the moment he waltzed into our neighborhood,” she said.

Her companions all nodded.

“You don’t have to tell us who it is, we already know,” her friend, another woman clothed in a dress and heels too formal for the situation, “He’s painting up different property every week. I’m surprised no one’s caught him yet.”

“Of course no one’s caught him, our pigs are useless,” Red Hat crowed.

The man beside her nodded. He didn’t say a word. Nora didn’t hear anything from his head either; he was a quiet man who never had much to say.

As Nora and Daniel listened, the owner of the store approached them, an assortment of bottled juice packed into his arms. He smiled when he got close enough and leaned towards them.

“Nora,” he greeted, “Juice?”

Nora took two and gave one to Daniel. Daniel immediately gave the juice back to Paul, not interested. She frowned at him but didn’t say anything.

“And this is?” Paul asked.

“Detective Daniel Moon,” the detective responded curtly, showing his lanyard off, “Someone called in a complaint?”

“Ah. Yes, someone did,” he replied, “Wasn’t me, though. I couldn’t be bothered with this.”

He turned to the wall and his crooked smile deepened, “I kind of like it. I was meaning to paint this side anyways, so it saves me a bit of trouble.”

It was a lovely mural, despite its crudeness. Nora admired it, taking the appearance of an art connoisseur. She tilted her head an angle or two, deep in thought.

“It’s different from his usual work,” she finally commented, “He’s been doing a lot of flowers recently.”

“I think I saw those. Did he do those lilies past the post office?” Paul asked.

“Mmm. The forget-me-nots by the bridge, too.”

“I should be mad, but I’m a little honored,” he confessed, “Once he gets famous, more people will come to my store. The kids like it, too.”

AhEM.

A cough took them out of their conversation. The detective, his hand still holding his lanyard out, snapped it back to his chest and glowered.

“Please take this seriously.”

Nora flashed a cheesy smile. He wasn’t amused.

“If you didn’t call, then there’s not really a complaint,” the detective told him, “You said you don’t mind? That it’s okay for him to do this?”

Paul thought, his face twisting momentarily, and then he nodded.

“No problem here.”

“Then that’s that,” Daniel said. Case closed.

But that wasn’t the correct answer, according to the crowd. They turned, finally noticing the detective’s presence, and they cornered him, predator to prey. When they dove forward Nora automatically stepped back with Paul, both not strangers to the phenomena, and in a second the confused detective was surrounded by two ladies, a man, and a straggling crowd of onlookers.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s that?’” Red Hat scowled, “Don’t you see there’s a menace plaguing our community? And you have the nerve to write it off like it’s none of your concern??”

“Who are you—?" Ms. Formally Dressed snatched at his lanyard and dragged it to her face. After her weak eyes scanned the name she let out a dry laugh, “The new detective? And I had hopes for you. Wimble, give me my money. You lost. He’s completely useless.”

The silent man, Mr. Wimble, released an inaudible sigh and dug in his deep pockets for a wallet.

The detective was overwhelmed by the sudden attention. He snatched his ID back as gently as he could, but it wasn’t gentle enough, because Ms. Formally Dressed suddenly howled and flung herself back.

“OH! HE’S VIOLENT, TOO! WHAT KIND OF DETECTIVE ACTS THIS WAY??”

“What?” Daniel couldn’t keep up with what was happening, “No, I—”

“A violent detective? In our Wonsung-du?” Red Hat sneered, then, “No, look at him. He’s so tiny. I doubt he could cause anyone any real harm.”

“I’m not—" he started, but the detective’s cries were unheard.

Ms. Formally Dressed blinked, “Are you sure? He looks a bit thuggish. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t shaved.”

“He needs a haircut too.”

“Is it the eyes? I can’t see them, those sunglasses are in the way. I can’t see the window’s to his soul. He must be hiding something.”

“He’s doing a poor job, I can already tell he’s lacking.”

“Lacking in what?”

A pause. Audible pity.

“…Everything.”

The Watch took turns in picking him to pieces, a wake of vultures doing what they’ve done all their motherly lives, and all the detective could do was stand their and wither away, his cries tossed to the wind. Nora watched. She let herself bask in the tyranny present and allowed a small sliver of pleasure from it. He hadn’t done much to deserve this behavior, but it was necessary for his attitude. He had no business being as rude and cranky as he was.

Before she got too lost in the bliss, however, something pinched her side, and she yelped.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding?” a voice asked. When she turned, Nora discovered Simona cradling her small dog to her chest, a scowl set deep in her lip.

“I went all the way to the substation this morning with her breakfast and she wasn’t even there. What an embarrassment.”

Nora smiled apologetically, “You didn’t go looking for me, did you?”

The frown was answer enough.

Simona would be the perfect addition to The Watch if she wasn’t so grounded. She kept an eye out for everybody- Nora especially, a troublemaker with not much family to be seen but herself- and in her own loneliness she made it a goal to make sure everyone was taken care of. It was easy to look past her grouchy, tough-as-nails façade and discover the sweet and loving woman she truly was.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I got bailed out early,” Nora felt grateful Simona went at all.

Simona sighed, “It’s fine. I should have expected it anyways. You’re too slippery to stay in there for long.”

“It’s really too bad, though. I made her a cake and everything. Guess I’ll send her some later.”

“Aww, what?” Nora booed. Simona patted her arm, thinking that she was reacting to her “slippery” comment.

“Anyways, what are you doing in this neck of the woods? You should be going out and celebrating. Twenty-five is a big deal,” Simona continued.

Paul perked up at this- he was listening, “Nora, it’s your birthday?”

“I mean—”

“Don’t start with that,” Simon interrupted, “Go. Go party instead of listening to these old crows squabble.”

Nora wasn’t one to celebrate much. Her birthday was mingled with memories of sadness, and after twenty-five years of this day passing by she found that she didn’t care much for it. The cake was a bonus that she wasn’t expecting, and she was happy to accept, but adding another year of living as a testament to her life’s victories didn’t seem meaningful. Not to her, anyways.

Her birthday was so unimportant that she’d forgotten about it. She was surprised that Simona even knew.

Simona was pulling her away from the crowd, trying to swing her to her home’s direction, but Nora dug her heels in, “No, I can’t leave. Not without that one.”

She pointed to the shell that Detective Daniel Moon had become. Enduring verbal and mental jabs, he turned, and when he noticed Nora half-away from the group he glared.

“Don’t you DARE leave me here, you coward.”

Simona followed Nora’s point and her eyebrows furrowed, “The detective? What, you hit it off last night?”

Nora tsked, “You wish.”

“No. I don’t think you deserve him,” Simona quipped back, and she released Nora’s arm, “but go save what’s left of him. You might find a couple of his pieces lying around if you’re lucky.”

It was a pity, really. The detective had been successfully ground down to simple specks of his former dignity, but he still had enough energy to catapult his curses to Nora.

“I can’t believe you just watched. Aren’t you supposed to be useful? Didn’t I let you tag along for a reason? Get these hags offa me! Get rid of them! Annoy them to death! I can only handle so much!”

Nora smiled and waited.

“…Please help.”

There it is.

Nora finally stepped forward and cut in, jamming her arm between the defeated detective and his attackers. Daniel hid behind her without thinking too much of it, an automatic response to escape his abuse. Nora gracefully took the spotlight.

It had an effect. When Nora made herself known, the elderly women shut their mouths, the sudden silence in stark contrast to their previous cackling. Still, Nora heard them.

“Oh, not THIS one.”

“Look at her. Her eyes. Those beady, creepy eyes.”

“She’s always sticking her nose into our business. She’s got nothing better to do. Probably between jobs again. Probably trying to make herself useful. But she never really is.”

“A vagabond, this one. I’d whack her away with my parasol if she didn’t scare me.”

“She’s scary—”

“Don’t look into her eyes, she’s scary. She knows.”

“She knows.”

“She knows too much.”

It took Nora a moment to collect herself. It always did when it came to The Watch. But once her footing was secure, and she had hold of her bearings, she released a sly grin onto the crowd, and they all simultaneously looked away.

“Tabitha,” she greeted the Red Hat, then to Ms. Formally Dressed, “Julie.”

And finally, to the silent man, “A pleasure always, Mr. Wimble.”

A mix of “Nora” was passed back to her. Good enough.

Seeing that she held the authority of the crowd, Nora sighed and attempted to bring back some peace. She motioned to Paul, whose arms were still full of bottles, and after he started passing them around to the frazzled elderly she continued, “Ladies, I appreciate that you’re thinking so much about our community. Wonsung-du wouldn’t be what it is without you. But you shouldn’t be abusing your power to throw the poor detective around. Let him breathe a little, hmm?”

The detective in question stared. How she managed to reel them so easily, he could only guess. The trio nodded, complacent in her flattery, but Tabitha, her hand tucking a lock of white hair nervously into her red hat, challenged, “We’re right, though. He shouldn’t just drop this case. What if that rascal comes back and starts scribbling on all our walls? He can’t just run around thinking it’s okay.”

“You’re completely right,” Nora said, and she turned to the detective, “You’ll tell him, won’t you? Give him a warning? You can do that much, right?”

She glared and bit her lip. Say yes.

“…Yes,” he managed.

“See?” and just as quickly, her gaze whipped back to the ladies, completely free of any malice, “He’s caught murderers and scoundrels alike. Trust him.”

At this statement, a small murmur spread among the group. Murderers? Scoundrels?? Maybe he wasn’t useless after all.

They were easily swayed. Nora knew this. She knew this, among many other things.

“Speaking of scoundrels, maybe you can help us,” Nora managed, sensing the timing, “Nothing gets past you three. You didn’t happen to see Savannah walking around last night, did you?”

Finally, getting to the topic at hand. She expected some cooperation, but before she could see any Julie scowled.

“Savannah? S’that Katherine’s girl?”

“Yes—”

“The slut?”

And the crowd shifted.

Suddenly, a flurry of comments and gossip rushed her. Savannah was another rowdy troublemaker, a popular topic among the grapevine, and she wasn’t spared. They tore her apart, mauling snippets of information hungrily, and along the chaos came a flurry of thoughts that Nora took a moment to pick apart herself, hoping to find something useful. They sped past at astonishing speeds, small details here and there, both overriding and underriding the words spoken aloud.

“I don’t know how Katherine manages with that thing around. A single mother too—”

“Is there a minute where she isn’t causing trouble? She needs to be leashed and muzzled—”

“She probably gets it from her father. He was a deadbeat. Blood tends to run like that—”

“She’s bound to get pregnant one of these days. Probably has the diseases. She’s practically living on Wukong. It’s a wonder she goes home at all—"

“What, she’s missing? Good riddance.”

Ruthless. Completely ruthless. Nora glared, her eyes burning fiercely, and the sudden shift in her attitude immediately shut the ladies up again.

“A daughter went missing in your town last night,” Nora explained, “so it’d be best if you’d act like decent people and remember if you saw her.”

“Decent—?" Tabitha started at the cold words, but Nora didn’t give her a chance.

“Yes. Decent. I asked a question, so keep your opinions to yourself.”

A pause. They were only doing what they did, passing gossip, providing information, giving her what she asked. Weren’t they? It wasn’t their fault that all they knew was negative. It wasn’t their fault that that was the only thing worth knowing about Savannah.

“Would you like me to tell you what everyone says about you, Tabitha?” Nora asked.

Tabitha sunk into herself.

“Julie?”

Julie paled.

“They’re not good things. Not with you acting like that.”

Mr. Wimble, the silent man, nodded in agreement. It was such a slight tilt that no one noticed it.

When the crowd collected itself in its silence, Nora started again, this time much more calmer and much more dignified.

“Did any of you see Savannah last night? She hasn’t come home, and Kathrine’s scared. Surely you’d feel the same if your kid disappeared,” Nora smiled, “So? Yes or No?”

A mumbled “no”.

“That’s all I needed to know.”

What a waste of a trip.

She turned to Paul, Simona, and her detective. Paul shook his head, and after a moment of thought Simona confessed she didn’t see her either. Well, there goes that lead.

The detective stared. His thoughts mingled with the collective consensus of others as Nora turned to leave, in the direction of Wukong Street.

“Scary.”

“Why is she like that? Is she a thug or what?”

“She’s not easy to get along with.”

“She talked as if she knows.”

“She knows.”

“She knows too much.”