~Cleoi, Oxzy's apartment~
A pounding headache greeted the hero as he opened his eyes. A blinding light hit his face—he had left his window curtains open, and the sun beamed on him, lifting him from his bed. He shifted his body, stirring the cat that lay on his legs. Moving away as gently as he could, he watched the cat flop her head onto the bed, still deep in sleep.
Oxzy shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. Having pulled himself away, the hero got ready for nothing in particular as he wandered to his small kitchen. Even if Cirilla May didn't follow him out, Kamari did, with a swoosh of her tail. The rat trailed behind her owner, hoping to be noticed.
Oxzy soon spotted her after washing his face. He shook his head before bending down to her level. "You're not supposed to be out here."
With those words, he picked her up and carried her back to his room, where the kitten still lay in the same position. He set the rat next to Cirilla and watched Kamari sniff her before settling beside her. They nestled close together, warm and comfortable, and Oxzy turned back to his kitchen.
In honesty, he had no idea what he was going to do that day. All he knew was that he might have to leave to stop Pierce, if Pierce chose to actually mess with him today. He hoped he could just stay home with the critters in his room.
After swigging down a bottle of water, he walked back into his room and heard a loud, annoying sound. His phone sat on a charger next to his bed, vibrating with a ringing tone. He rolled his eyes, knowing he had to do something today.
Picking it up, he looked at the caller ID, gulped, and accepted the call.
"Sir?" he asked, sitting down next to the sleeping animals.
The other end stayed silent before Milo spoke. "I'm sorry to call you so early, Oxzy, but I was hoping we could meet up again today."
Oxzy couldn't help but growl, a headache flaring as he stayed silent. Milo called for him again, sounding concerned, which only annoyed Oxzy more. "Is there a reason to meet up, or do you just want to hang out with me, sir?"
A sharp, embarrassed voice came from the other end. "No—! I mean, kinda! But it's for work, I swear!" The quick response came, and Oxzy looked to the ceiling, feeling the urge to hang up on him. All he wanted to do that day was stay home. Now Milo was calling with no real purpose.
"Look, I got everything settled here at the station, so we can talk there. I also got new information about Randy for you to hear."
As Milo elaborated, Oxzy raised his eyebrows. He did want to know more about the case, since Randy posed a danger to people—so even if he didn't want to do anything, he had to do something. "Alright. When?"
"Oh, uh, tonight at the station!" Milo replied enthusiastically.
"Time?"
"Seven! Seven o'clock is fine, Oxzy." With his last reply, Oxzy said goodbye before hanging up. He set his phone back on his desk before flopping onto his gray sheets.
~Formay, Police station~
Milo waited for a few minutes till it was 7:06 before debating whether he should call Oxzy again. He didn't want to intrude, but he felt fed up that Oxzy had ditched their meetup. Milo secretly wanted it to be a date, though he knew he had to frame it as a meeting whenever he wanted to see the hero.
The officer reached for his phone, only to hear the front door open. His head shot up and met the hero's gray-blue eyes. He felt his breath catch, standing up abruptly with his back straight. Oxzy came forward, ignoring the eyes that followed him as he made his way to the officer.
"Oxzy! Glad you could make it." Milo smiled happily, losing all his anger within minutes. Walking around the counter, he noticed how the hero took a step back when standing next to him, but he brushed it off.
Looking at the man, Milo felt his mind wander. He had urges that were wrong, everything about what he wanted to do was wrong. Oxzy asked the sheriff something, but it went past Milo's ears.
"Sir?" Oxzy asked again, raising an eyebrow at the blond man. Milo could only stare, forcing the hero to roll his eyes in annoyance. "Sir!"
Milo stepped back, shaking his head before giving a half smile. "Sorry, you just look… good today," he said, giving the hero a smile and a slight blush.
The hero, in turn, gave a sidelong glance, nodding his head with a "thank you" leaving his lips. Milo could feel the awkwardness in the air, making the two of them shift around uncomfortably. It washed away when a new person welcomed himself into the conversation.
"Milo, sir! I got the paperwork done," Jayce said, walking in with papers in hand, Jamison following behind. They stopped as soon as their eyes fell on Oxzy.
Milo stopped as well upon seeing them, moving over so he wasn't as close to Oxzy, and nodded to his officers. "Great, thank you, Jayce." He took the papers from Jayce and set them on his desk behind the two.
Jayce looked at Oxzy with a flash of realization, a small smile crossing his face, and put out his hand for the famous man to take. "You're Oxzy, right? This is the first time I'm meeting you." Oxzy hesitantly shook his hand. Almost unintentionally, Jayce squeezed it. "You look a lot more normal in person."
"Sure," Oxzy responded before pulling his hand away.
"Okay, I'm sorry, Oxzy. I didn't expect my men to be done with their work already." Milo shuffled back, nodding to Jayce before noticing Jamisen. The man was looking at him with furrowed brows, a question clear in his eyes.
Milo cleared his throat, standing between Oxzy and the other men. "Well, Jamisen, can you show Jayce around more and go over the rules?"
"What will you be doing?" Jamisen questioned back, giving a pointed look to Oxzy behind Milo.
"I have a case I'm working on with Oxzy's help," Milo firmly responded, leaving no room for Jamisen to argue. He nodded to the two men in front of him before leading Oxzy into the back office. He closed the door before turning to the hero, who took a seat across from the desk.
Sitting down across from the hero, Milo pulled out some papers and set them in front of Oxzy. The hero looked around, keeping close while the sheriff arranged everything. Once finished, Milo looked at the hero, his mind wandering as he stared deeply into the curly mess of black hair.
"Did anything turn up?" Oxzy asked, looking at the papers as he shuffled them around. Milo kept his eyes on Oxzy, wanting to do anything but talk. "Sir?"
His eyes quickly flinched away, and he shook his head. "Y-Yeah, uh, something did come up about Randy."
The hero sat up straighter, giving his full attention to the officer. "After searching the far side of the grubs, my team came across a man's body." Milo moved a stack of papers from under a few pencils, sliding it in front of Oxzy for him to see. Oxzy didn't even have to read it; he saw the body and understood the news. "He was found dead by the sewers with one bullet wound in his head. We have no leads but this so far."
Oxzy looked down at the file, his mind far away. He couldn't help but feel strange about this; it couldn't have been Pierce who did this. Why would Pierce go through the trouble of breaking Randy out, only to kill him later? Besides, Pierce didn't kill people with guns.
Gangs did, on the other hand.
"Have your men even investigated yet? The grubs aren't that big if the whole station can look for the culprit."
Milo flipped the papers around, touching his temple, his eyes cast down. "We have. Nothing has come up."
Oxzy couldn't help but roll his eyes. How could the whole station search such a small area and find nothing? The grubs were full of gangs and drug dealers, yes, but that made it easier, not harder, to find a killer. Still, Oxzy sensed that Milo wasn't trying very hard. He wasn't trying at all.
Instead of voicing his true thoughts, Oxzy stayed silent. That led Milo to continue, veering off topic. "Y'know, I was just wondering… what do you do when you're not, I don't know, fighting or doing your job?" His hands moved around as he thought. "Is it a job to you? I mean, you don't get paid for it, so I just wonder if you want to."
The hero felt himself doze off, his mind wandering as he wished to be anywhere but here. He thought about what he needed to get before going home, and considered stopping by the grubs to search for the killer himself.
Only, he knew that if he were caught in the grubs and recognized, he might need to do more than he wanted. But just hearing Milo ramble on about things other than the important matter made him feel like he had to act. Randy was, by all means, not an important matter. Milo continued rambling about something, and Oxzy paid him no mind, only wondering if he wanted to look for the killer himself.
Well, he felt like he had to.
A sudden touch to his hand brought him back to reality. He pulled away in shock, seeing Milo awkwardly withdraw as well. Putting his hands at his sides, Milo gave a small smile. "Sorry, you weren't responding."
"What did you ask?"
Milo looked taken aback, sensing that Oxzy hadn't been paying attention to him at all. He felt annoyed and hurt all at once, but he pushed the feelings down. Maybe the hero had a lot on his mind? He didn't want to dwell on it, since he wanted Oxzy to feel more comfortable with him.
So he kept asking questions, drawing closer with each one until he was almost touching the oblivious hero.
Oxzy had never been hit on by a guy before. A few times by girls, but a guy was new to him. That was likely why he hadn't caught onto the look Milo was giving him. In some ways, it was a very different way to "flirt." Milo could have anyone he wanted as the sheriff of the town, yet his eyes were fixed on Oxzy.
His curly dark sea of hair, bright gray-blue eyes, and long lashes—Milo didn't know when he'd started paying such close attention, but he couldn't look away. All he wanted to do was kiss him.
His hand hovered over Oxzy's, his eyes mere inches away. Milo was so close he could do it. But the moment vanished when a knock echoed through the office. Jamisen called through the wood, asking the sheriff to finish up and help train Jayce.
Milo stood and apologized to Oxzy, asking if he needed a ride. Oxzy quickly shook his head, claiming he could get home on his own. The secretiveness surrounding the hero's living place made the officer want to know more—to uncover what the hero kept so quiet and hidden. He couldn't do so now.
But he hoped to, soon.
~The Grubs, unknown~
The hero decided he could look for the killer himself. He stopped by a shop to disguise himself so no one in the filthy area could recognize or target him. In an oversized black hoodie and ripped black jeans, Oxzy blended into the background. This wasn't the first time he'd come to the grubs to track down a "wanted" killer, but this time he came more prepared. He knew bad things would happen if he entered this part of town without hiding himself.
He didn't know exactly what to do; all he knew was to start by looking around, to find something that hinted at what he sought, and follow it from there. What Oxzy was looking for was a group—one selling things in the dark, maybe engaging in a bit of violence against their own people—then he'd have a lead.
As if the grubs had heard his thoughts, loud shouts reached the hero. He stopped to find the source of the sound. It came from the far end of the street, and shifting into a less threatening posture, Oxzy looked in the direction of the men.
A group of large, tattooed men were beating on each other. Bottles shuffled around their feet as they tussled. They paid no attention to the hero as he walked past them. Oxzy, in turn, kept his focus on them, feeling a cold draft pass by, his eyes locked onto the small but obvious group. They all had dark circles under their eyes, signs of substance abuse. They stumbled over each other, clearly disoriented. Oxzy pushed through the cold air that carried the smell of beer and a metallic scent.
It wasn't them, Oxzy concluded, ignoring them as he continued on, seeing them as non-threatening to anyone, himself included. He focused on what lay ahead, feeling the air around him for any trace of blood, smoke, or fire. A very recent smell of ash drifted by, but it smelled old, so Oxzy ignored it.
As he moved through streets lined with junk, Oxzy found no trace of any killer. He found only drugged and nearly dead people. The only violence he picked up on came from liquor-fueled fights or relationship drama.
Oxzy felt like giving up on this useless search. But he knew he was better than the police at finding killers. They had to be hiding somewhere in the grubs—anywhere—but if Oxzy knew better, they were the farthest from Pierce.
The hero had an idea of where the villain lived, though not exactly—it was a close guess. He stayed away from that area, moving instead toward the darker, more secluded parts of the grubs: the most dangerous part of town.
Oxzy, of course, had no fear; he could protect himself with ease. Only determination guided him now. The one thing that did scare him while in the grubs was the thought of running into the villain. That would spark a lasting, damaging light on his already battered body.
He could handle people, but Pierce wasn't a normal person.
—Just like himself.
The drift of smoke in the air came from a similar pair. The two walked down the street, Mercy digging through her purse in search of a lighter. She groaned in annoyance, prompting Pierce to turn his attention to her.
"Motherfucker! Where is my shit?" she growled, rolling her eyes.
"Up your ass apparently," Pierce smirked, lifting his finger to light a flame for her. She held up her joint, lit it, and took a drag, letting puffs of smoke escape her mouth. She ignored his comment and slyly pushed him away with her hip.
He accepted the push, moving his hand as the flame vanished. He and his tipsy friend had just left Daylight, where Mercy had been stealing and people had scattered at the sight of the villain. It wasn't fun for him, but once Mercy decided to show him where she'd been getting her hookups, it sounded like it might be a thrill.
So he followed her to the far end of the grubs, where she usually scored her hits. It was near a lake at the very edge of town—still within the grubs, meaning it sat in the most dangerous part of the place.
Pierce felt a cold gust hit him, and his steps stopped as his mind went immediately to the one person who carried that same wistful chill. It had to be Oxzy. The hero was close by. Pierce didn't want to believe the hero was actually in the grubs, but he knew well enough what always followed him.
A cold mist blew past him and Mercy, catching only Pierce in his tracks. Mercy kept walking, not noticing her friend had stopped until Pierce had already turned toward the source of the cold air. "I'll meet up with you later. I gotta take a piss."
"Don't do it on fire this time, big boy," Mercy mocked, her eyes teasing as she trudged on toward the warehouse.
As she went forward, Pierce stepped back and followed the wisp of cold air. In all honesty, he could be wrong—maybe Oxzy wasn't here, maybe it was just cold air. But Pierce knew Oxzy far too well. He knew what followed the curly-haired man and how he behaved.
He felt a bit proud of being the only person who knew the hero so well.
He almost felt special.
Well, he knew he was special.
As he followed the cold mist, Pierce caught sight of a figure near the end of the street facing the warehouse. The warehouse stood near the lake, far from other houses, hidden by long stretches of alleys.
The villain stared at the figure, a thought running through his mind while his body stayed still. The cold mist grew stronger, flying past him and striking the hooded figure. That was when Pierce saw exactly what he'd been looking for—curly black hair spilling from the hood into the open air. The figure's face remained covered, but the curls were all Pierce needed to see.
Pierce knew who he was looking at. Though he didn't know why.
The villain crept closer behind the figure, careful to go unnoticed. At least, that was what he hoped—but the hero, sharpened by the dangers of this place, had a keen sense of his surroundings and quickly realized he was being followed.
Feeling the footsteps match his own, Oxzy kept his eyes forward, his heart pounding louder as the person closed in. The hero debated what to do—hit him? Fight and scare him off? That would draw attention, the exact opposite of what he wanted. He needed to stay hidden yet push the "danger" away.
With his breath catching, Oxzy made up his mind. He stopped, sliding his hand from his hoodie pocket, intending to quietly threaten the person behind him. But he was stopped by a sly voice from the figure following him.
"Why are you so far away from your safe place?" It was Pierce, looming above the hero, his face bright with a grin, his voice full of excitement.
Oxzy reacted quickly, his hand snapping toward the ground. Cold energy surged from him, spreading through the space around them, and a spike of ice formed around the villain's feet. Pierce stood motionless, showing no reaction to the threat.
His eyes studied the ice, lips curling into a light smile. "I wouldn't do that," he said, and the hero halted the ice's growth. "You're in the grubs. My home. Don't do anything that'll get you caught…"
The hero took the warning to heart, lowering his hand and letting the ice shrink and melt away, though his face remained stern as he kept Pierce in view.
"What are you doing?" Oxzy asked, staying tense, as if bracing for an attack at any moment.
The villain, however, had no intention of fighting—not yet. If anything, he was curious why the hero had come to the grubs. Curious enough to resist the urge to provoke him, he settled instead for "talking," his own version of which involved closeness and flustered expressions.
"I was wondering what you were doing here, actually. This is my home—you're a bit uninvited."
The hero knew the question was a strange one to ask, given that Pierce actually lived here, but he couldn't explain his real reason for coming. So, true to form, he stayed silent.
Rather than annoyed, the villain seemed used to the silence; it was simply who Oxzy was. If anything, it intrigued him further, confirming that the hero was hiding something.
And he wanted to know what.
"You're here for something important, obviously," the villain said, shrugging as he took a small step toward the tense hero. "Why? Do you like me so much that you wanted to visit?"
A growl answered him. The hero shifted his stance, torn between running and shoving the villain away, but held back the urge that might get him caught. Instead, he pulled his hoodie further over his face, hands ready for a close fight.
The villain paid no mind to the threatening posture. He wasn't in the mood to fight—only to talk to the quiet hero. "You must. I mean, you never come to the grubs. I could take you to my place; we could get some drinks."
His voice dripped with amusement as his long legs carried him closer. Oxzy stepped back, his expression stern against Pierce's gleam of joy. "Do you even drink?"
Pierce moved closer still, his face only inches from the pale skin staring up at him in hostility. Oxzy braced for an attack, ready to be shoved or lunged at. The villain's nose nearly touched his own, his deep brown eyes drinking in every flicker of Oxzy's expression. The hero fought to steady himself—this was exactly what the villain wanted: to see fear, to know the hero would always stay on guard because of him. It was a drug Pierce craved.
"Filthy," Oxzy sneered under his breath, locking eyes with him.
The villain's smile sharpened, baring teeth that made the hero's stomach twist with anxiety. It never reached the surface—Oxzy kept his front intact, hiding what he felt and refusing to give the villain what he wanted.
Still, Pierce saw through it. Beneath his grin lay something closer to anger at Oxzy's words, though he masked it well, flashing a smile meant to unsettle the hero further.
But Oxzy showed no fear, glaring back at him. Silence stretched between them—two men divided, each hating the other, neither willing to make the first move.
The quiet broke with the villain's dark snicker. He covered his mouth as a laugh slipped free, his eyes raking over the hero, hungry to take in every flicker of thought and emotion—enough to reduce him to soft, pleading whispers. Pierce knew he'd never get that, though he longed for something close to it.
Instead, the hero turned and walked past him, his shoulder brushing against the villain's. Pierce stayed rooted, his body flushing with anger. He wanted to watch Oxzy retreat, but he knew that if he turned to look, he might attack. So he resisted, waiting until the hero's light footsteps faded before finally turning around.
By then, no one was there.