But the world had yet to return to its natural state. There were a few days before it was time to return to the office. A few hours to sweep up the scattered remains.

And so, back in his ice-white apartment, Sao found himself playing host and housekeeper once again.

Rai, to his credit, was being a well-behaved houseguest. He sat stiff as a board on one of the artistically sculptured dining chairs. He had a cup of tea, because that was all Sao had available, and was handling the silver-rimmed teacup with comic dantiness. He did not move beyond his chair, as if the floor itself would crack upon touch.

“What do I have to do to land a place like this?” Rai sighed.

“Rent it.”

“With what, my soul and servitude? That balcony is a multi million-dollar view. Dammit, even that couch also looks like it cost a few grand. And I've never seen such a thin freestanding TV. That brand doesn’t come cheap.”

He was more broken over the television than anything Sao had seen him react to.

“It’s also a matter of having the right friend to rent from,” Sao laughed.

“Can I get a reference for any new listing your buddy has? From one friend to another.”

Sao smiled politely.

Rai took a violent sip of tea and came very close to smashing down the cup - but slowed his hand just in time. His gloveless fingers seemed to glow dimmer than they had in his earlier confrontation. “It’s freezing in here, though. Could just be the colors. The glass and white really show off how clean it is but man, it’s a hell of a winter mood.”

“You’re not imagining it. The heating broke a while back.”

Sao gestured at the unit in the corner.

“And that thing warms the whole house? Chimera tech these days.”

“Well, it’s broken so I’m not sure how much of a compliment to give.”

“Can I take a look at it?”

“Of course. You’re good with this sort of thing?”

“I’ve taken apart a couple of things around the house, and put them back together. I did my own renovation back when -- let me have a shot at it.” Rai rose from the seat with caution.

While Rai attended to the heating, Sao went to clean out the remains of the case in the bedroom. There was a slight sting to the sight of his bed - the shifter had folded up the comforter at the end of the bed, and rearranged the pillows in symmetry. A surprise courtesy - but bedding hadn’t been changed in a week, so he had to undo all that hard work.

The stripped sheets smelled faintly of citrus and musk - old cologne. The kind he’d find lingering in the air of a golden mansion that had just been vacated of corpses.

Sitting under the dresser was a backpack with worn straps. He left that particular reminder untouched, for now.

After a fresh bedspread was laid down, he bundled the old sheets and pillowcases into a ball and dropped them into the bathroom hamper.

There was a hair-raising crack from the living room.

Sao rushed out to see Rai dislodging the back panel of the heater with his fist. Mid-beat he teetered to a halt and clutched his shoulder.

Sao folded his arms. “You need anything?”

“For the heater? Not really, I’m just looking at it.”

Sao shook his head and tapped to indicate his shoulder.

Rai waved his hand. “Nah. This cut’s going to be fine. It’s already stopped bleeding. I heal up fast, you know.”

“Ah - Life Fountain genes in action?”

“That and some of the paste I always keep in the car.” Rai gave a short shrug and finished removing the panel. “A real LF would have sealed up instantly and forgot about it. But I take things a little slower. For the same reason I probably won’t live past 100.”

“Is that really so disappointing? Having to live out the end of your mishaps is human.” Sao held up his own bandaged hand. “And as I well know after tonight, there are creatures in this world that desperately wish to just be human.”

“A human with mansions, money and flawless health; screw the rest. Better off hoping to live past 100.”

There was some clicking within the heating unit’s tower. Sao saw a faint glimmer - Rai’s hands or sparks? Rai drew out his hands and puffed on them a few times.

“Maybe I was wrong about you. Letting our suspect stay over in this icebox wasn't as nice of a gesture as I first thought. I suppose you had a plan.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do regret it, but the heating was working until recently. This morning, in fact. I think it was her that broke it.”

“Broke it how?”

Sao shrugged.

“Hm. Trick question. It’s not broken.” Rai pressed a switch or button within the machine and the lights on the top panel blinked on so silently that Sao would not have noticed. “Just something pulled loose in the back. So question is really, how did this happen?”

“I suppose there was plenty of time for her to tamper with it, when I was out of the house, or in the shower...”

“And you’re the observant one.”

“You’re the only one who calls me that.”

“If you considered it safe enough to turn your back to… her, I can only accept it. I wasn’t there at the time.”

Sao dropped into couch. “There were bits that could have gone better.”

“Well, you lived.”

“Only just.” Sao gazed up at the tiny grated eye of the smoke detector. “Perhaps I was never in any danger. I don’t know, I felt there were others who would be looking out for me, even if I were to be... skinned and tossed in a trunk, it wouldn’t come to nothing. Took the weight right off. For the most part.”

Rai’s face wrinkled and he smacked the panel back into place, giving a full-force blue punch to its smooth metal backing for good measure. Then he rounded the heater and gave the operation panel a gentle tap.

The whir warmed Sao’s bones the moment he heard it.

“At last. I’d never have figured that contraption out on my own.” He smiled. “But perhaps if it had broken sooner, I'd have had an excuse to get the shifter into that place and have our confrontation sooner. And perhaps Marina... god, thinking back. I spent so much time with that creature. You know, even when I knew what it was, I felt some enjoyment?” He slumped into a chair. “I'm only wasting more time now. In any case, thank you.”

“It was right.”

“What’s that?”

“The shifter said you do these bizarre things. Make these glorified statements, like you'd hear in a movie – though you allegedly don't use that flatscreen of yours, was that it? You’re a hero, in the story sense of the word. You have your brave sacrifices and chivalry, it will really get to someone trying to slot themselves into humanity. They want to know they are worth saving.”

“Meaning?”

“You were appropriate for this job after all. Nobody had to die. No more than we've already seen.”

“Sounds the worst case is a common occurrence.”

Rai’s mouth twitched into a grin, but only briefly. “I don’t have the stats on hand, but no matter what it is, it happens way too often.”

“Reading reports all day, I suppose you’d know. But they’re always written in such a grave tone, even when justice is served. Nobody, least of all a detective, likes an essay.”

“You kidding? Reports are the best part, to add to that, if I’m reading a murder report I tend to be in the office bored out of my mind. A little blood and an angry cop is sometime the only thing that makes good reading. It’s only when I've seen the event in person... let’s just say I get why there’s nothing close to a reason for chipper editing.”

Sao was compelled to sit straight. “At least today we managed a victory.”

“It’s not right to call these victories. We now have at least 5 more bodies out in the wild.”

“A monster’s off the streets.”

“A little late. That’s not on you. No, all those guys who got eaten in the past are down to the city and how it treats these cases. You put a stop to a bad streak that could have gone further, all the way down the drain and out. This is more of... a compliment.”

“A compliment.”

“I don’t have a knack for those. Let me try again… ‘as a colleague, he has been absolutely accommodating towards every need and uniquely productive in a fashion that benefits both the core results of the office and the personal wellbeing of all involved, I--’”

“Those are my words. I’m sure you can come up with your own.” Sao sat forward and Rai's recitation stopped with grin. “Good lord, have you committed my review to memory already?”

Rai folded his arms and faced the television. Their dark reflections smirked back. “It was a memorable review. Probably the most memorable staff review I’ve ever gotten. Definitely the first and last time I’ve been called ‘natural empath’ but I’ll bet you knew that when you wrote it.”

“Too extreme?”

“Van or someone down at HQ is gonna read that and think I’m holding you hostage.”

“Holding me hostage in my own apartment, fixing my heater.”

Rai stalked back to table to check his empty cup. They listened to the minute hum of the heater for a while. Sao wanted to excuse himself, to sleep perhaps, but somehow sleep was just out of his reach once again. The nap in the car hadn’t been enough - but he did not deserve to lay his head down just yet.

“What will happen to our culprit?”

“Prison, best case. He or she can be tried as a human now. If you'd consider a murderer human. Usually I’d let them more time to pick a face to stick with, but I mean, faces can be fixed..." Rai shifted one foot over the other. "We need a person to put to a record; face and fingerprints are the standard. So what I did was officially stabilize those two aspects. Can’t have our friend slapping on a new body mid-trial and crying mistaken identity; the legal process is a tightrope walk as-is. Though they’re still strong, they may be restricted from turning up at their own trial, or given one without jurors, or...” Inspecting his fingertips, he went on. “Shifters are so rarely caught or even suspected, the whole system’s basically improvised. If what I did wasn't enough, the station might call in a big-game Life Fountain in for a fullbody burn.”

“Oh.”

Rai quickly added, “I try to be thorough. Since I'm a lightweight, it didn’t hurt much -- that yelling was just from the shock, and maybe the smell. You saw, all I leave are some marks, and they don’t even feel it after an hour or two. Like a sunburn. Or, uh...”

“I don’t need assurance. The murders were justification enough to stop them.”

“Sometimes it just seems… unfair to seal them. A stolen face stays stuck on. And it’s not just the victim who’s lost either. What’s a shifter without shapeshifting? That’s like if I had my hands taken away.” He laid his hands out. “Maybe there will be another way, once the city gets its head on right. LFs got rehabilitated, so...”

“Rehabilitated?”

“Like I said, my aura’s very mild. I’m kind of lucky; there are others with serious control issues, and too much healing force isn’t as cool as it sounds. The city has them undergo training - I guess that’s a better word. I didn’t have to do that because I don’t have the aura to do harm even if I wanted to. Yeah, I can burn shifters, but just a little, and I can’t heal for shit unless someone happens to hit only my hand. Every LF worth their salt should be able to patch up a gunshot on the spot.” As if it were proof, he lifted his unharmed teacup. "Thankfully those two chumps who came with me for the arrest didn't have itchy fingers. Could have put a hole in me - and I'd be done. An embarrassment to my forefathers."

Sao gazed up at the smoke detector. Blinking calmly. “Healing hands or not, since I'm sticking around, I resolve to... to give you your handshake. One day. No gunshots need to be involved, I hope. And hopefully I won’t give you reason to pursue the shifter ‘touch test’ again. But you will get your handshake.”

“Does it ever let up? The touch... thing. I mean, if you don't mind...”

“In the past, in extreme stretches of trust. But not recently, hence the long-term goal.” Sao tapped his chin in thought. “And in distress. As in hospital-anaesthetized-uncounciousness distress.”

“Alright then. I guess as long as you hold back, I can assume at least you arent that far gone. At least...” In a strange turn of the norm, Rai looked tired.

They regarded the heater, then the window above. Sao saw his reflection, still powdered and made up and remarkably unharmed, and bit his lip.

“I do feel a bit guilty, even knowing all that this culprit's done. He… this nameless shapeshifter has now lost the ability that defined them until now. It can’t be easy...”

“Sometimes it just feels like everyone loses. And I feel guilty that my fucking around put us behind finding the two in the forest. Forget it. Let’s stick to feeling bad for the dead. There are worse fates for a shifter.”

“Do I want to hear of them?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Sao repeated with much less vigor. “It’s tiring just knowing one, and it’s not even such a bad end. Prison’s not the end of the world.”

“Depends on the sentence, what happens inside... But you, out here, can’t let these cases tire you out. I mean, in the long run.”

“Not if I plan to move up to Level 3, though to be honest, after seeing the duties in person-”

Rai swirled the remains in his teacup. “Do what you want. But even if you aren’t trying to claw your way up, don’t let it be just one girl or one killer that keeps you down. The numbers get much worse, and looking away doesn’t improve matters.”

“Or closing your eyes.”

“I guess so.”

Sao smiled. “You’re still chipping away, aren’t you? Case by case, I can’t tell if you think it genuinely helps, but what’s important is-”

“Cotton to a waterfall.”

“So, why?”

“Why? What else would I be doing?” Rai gazed the light fixture, with its halogen white bulb. His light seemed rather dim in comparison. “It seems unimportant now, but you remember what we talked about a couple weeks ago? About the Level 3-”

A buzz that eclipsed the heater’s tiny whir cut between them. Rai dug into his pocket for his phone, gave it a few taps and read. His all-too-familiar frown began to take hold.

“You’ve got another late night ahead of you,” Sao guessed.

“They’re all late nights.”

Sao yawned, though his head was still running full capacity, grinding out words to himself, you can’t sleep yet. Well, there was no reason to keep Rai lagging back. His sleeplessness was well trained, and he had places to be.

“If that’s all, I’ll see you on Monday,” Rai said. “Back in the office?”

“Naturally.”

Rai had a last wistful look at the all the icy whites and blues, the clean countertops, the enormous screen and neatly sectioned living room. “If you’re sticking around the office after all, maybe I should invest in a couch.”

Sao laughed.

With a flip of the black coat and a flash of blue, Rai left.

---

Sao was stalling off bedtime, setting his coats on hangers. The bed, though empty, was still looking like someone else’s territory. And then there was the backpack, prodding his conscience from the living room where he’d moved it. It occurred to him that it would have to be turned in eventually.

He was finding many treasures in the pockets of his own laundry - several napkins and pen caps swaddled in lint and receipt papers reduced to a pulp. There was a single readable receipt for two bacon-onion -cheeseburgers. The total price of the meal had been $0. There were quite a few coins too, and he now had a respectable stack of change. He also had many un-bent paperclips. They had come in handy in the past, though there was nobody locking him out of this new apartment, so they were no longer staples of his pocket.

The baby in the apartment upstairs was having a difficult time sleeping. There was a muffled scream that set his hairs an inch from their roots.

He didn’t count the seconds, but it did not seem like anybody was rushing to the infant’s aid. Was it worth calling the police over such a thing?

Sao straightened the sleeves of the last coat and buttoned half of the buttons, starting with the collar and then every other.

Upstairs, footsteps stomping up the direction of the hallway. The baby’s wails swelled with satisfaction. There was never a need to worry. No need to play the hero.

The closet slid shut.

Sao considered folding his shirts and pants next, as they also had pockets to explore, but his hand was beginning to bleed again. The bandage was spongy with moisture, with flecks of powdered skin foundation on the crust.

A shower was in order.

He set the tap going to heat the water, and ran his hand under the stream. It took ten minutes to grind every bit of unwanted dirt off his arms. Then he looked himself over in the mirror. His facial mask had remained intact despite the evening's tussle. Another show of generosity by the shifter? Well, the mask had to come off too.

Sao patted his hands to his sides, and thought of the pockets he had on him at that moment.

With his newly cleaned, yet rather patchy hands, Sao dug into his pants pockets and rescued several folded bills from the imminent laundry. There was a receipt which had been through the washer once already but was still readable: approved by waitress: Zen____ who had gotten a considerable tip for her efforts. Then there was the butterfly.

Sao set the tattered slip of glittering fabric down on the marbled countertop as the room began to fill with steam.

The butterfly was Marina’s keychain. She had been holding an extensive collection of keys when they’d met. The shifter had taken possession of the smaller ring of three house keys, but the full, jingling set had not been found in or around the apartment. There were many things of hers left unrecovered, though, including Marina’s own body.

There was a surge of tension. She was not saved. They may be close with the capture of her kidnapper, but the fact remained - they did not have her alive or dead. By all accounts, she was back on the missing persons list.

He also had cold snap of terror as to the whereabouts of his own keys.

He dove out of the bathroom, releasing the milling steam, and found his keys immediately on the living room couch.

The cameras that he knew were there continued their observation in silence. Better to look like an fool on film than lose the keys.

It was more a fear of the call he’d have to make than the inconvenience. Hro, the landlord, most definitely had spares. He was the most cautious person Sao knew, though you would not take him for an estate mogul at first glance. Hro and Van, they were tough ones to read. And what was the last brother’s name? The little one? Destined for big things, according to Van, but the name...

He was debating the merits of his landlord’s family in his mind when the baby upstairs began to scream again. This time, both parents came running.

It might be nice, he thought, to live with someone. If one forgets the keys, they can fall back on the other. Does Van have access to all of Hro’s keys? Duplicates? That would be a lot of keys, considering it’s not just their houses, but all of the properties in…

He dropped the keys back on the couch.

He paced to the window, took in the (alleged) million dollar view, and then back to the table where Rai’s cup was sitting. Was Rai far? It couldn’t have been that long since he left. Would he protest to a final run for the investigation?

That was hardly a question.

Sao’s phone was sitting on the bookshelf. He picked it up.

—-

“Good thing we got here before everyone left,” Rai said.

To Sao’s eyes, for all the help they could be so late in the day, Rai appeared to be in a good mood. He stood at the center of the hall in front of Marina's apartment, under the dead lightbulb. They were circled by some less assured members of the patrol and the remains of the forensics squad.

“We’ll be looking for whatever he’s got on his mind,” Rai said, extending a finger at Sao. “He was up close with the killer and knew the victim. And Sao, since you got us all here, I assume you uncovered something big.”

“Possibly. It’s more a matter of what’s still missing.”

His supposed team’s faces were growing stern. Rai, however, retained his slight, calm interest. His loosened grip on the whole ordeal, hardly his habit, nearly made Sao back away altogether.

“There’s a lot still missing in this case,” Rai said.

“Yes, too much.” Sao took a breath. “But to be specific, I want you to look for Marina herself.”

“You think she’s in the building.”

It wasn’t a question, but Sao continued, “It’s a floating idea, more of a hope, but there have been some hints that she might be in here.” He pulled out the butterfly. “I found this in the apartment, took it back home by accident.”

“Go on,” Rai said, with no reprimand.

“It’s Marina’s keyring - the last time I saw her, she must have had a kilo of jingling metal tied to this butterfly. Zen and Icey would remember and I’m fairly sure the Skyline bar’s camera would have picked it up too. It was a huge mass of keys. But as you can see, it’s no longer here. Ah - I don’t suppose it turned up in the apartment?”

The forensic aides confirmed no ball of keys was recovered.

Sao folded the butterfly and handed it over. He glanced at Rai. “I didn’t confirm what the keys were for, but the first day after Marina’s disappearance, I recall a conversation about young professionals buying up spare apartments in places such as these before the price has a reason to spike.”

“I remember.”

“The shapeshifter said Marina miraculously escaped from her apartment. Assuming the massive set of keys were for spare apartments within this property, and also assuming Marina made off with them at the time of her escape, she could have hidden in one of her other apartments. Somewhere along the hall, or on the nearby floors.” Sao looked down the hallway one way to the fire exit, then the other, into what seemed like an abyss. “She wouldn’t have gone far. Even if she had apartments on other floors, the elevators are several halls away. We learned from the culprit that she broke her legs falling from a roof, during the kidnapping.”

Rai crossed his arms. “Must have taken a bite out of her too, since it made the transformation. This filthy carpet probably hides the blood trail, but I dropped by a couple times after the first and there wasn’t any blood on the fire stairs.”

“So she’s likely somewhere along this hallway.”

“If she’s here.”

“Yes,” Sao said. “If she is.”

There was a pause. A few shifting glances were exchanged between the staff. There was no disdain, Sao noted, but eyes and lips were tensed. They were afraid to move. They didn’t look at him, though.

Rai dragged his arms from his pockets. “If she’s here, we’re not just going to just call it a night and go home, right? We look up and down this hall, the whole building if it comes to that. A lot of these units look empty. If any of them are unlocked, go right in. If locked, knock to see if anyone’s there and knows anything, if they for some reason will not answer, hit harder, listen through the gaps. Anything we can do.”

The members dispersed gradually as Rai directed them down different branches of the hall.

“We’ll start on these,” Rai said to Sao. They began moving down the short stretch of hall towards the fire doors.

Doorbell. Knock. Try the doorknob. No answer. It took less than three iterations for Sao’s surge of hope to start collapsing.

“It all looks the same as the first day we visited,” he said.

“It was like that in the days after, too. I came back a couple times after, never saw anything. And yet, the culprit turned up eventually, right behind the door that looked like it would never open.”

There was a volcanic protest beginning on the floor below. The tenants were not pleased at being disturbed past midnight, even if it regarded a murderer and victim right over their heads.

A good excuse to come knocking, Sao thought. But how much have excuses achieved so far?

“Are we even allowed to be doing this?” he asked.

Rai banged on the door before them, announced themselves as police. A hard, hollow thudding followed by nothing. There was no doormat or decoration, a dead, empty house. Of course, if someone were hiding inside, they would never know unless it were opened, or broken into.

“We weren’t technically supposed to enter all of the victim’s houses. And a creature that chooses to live as human technically shouldn’t be allowed to kill, so how about we don’t debate life’s rules right now,” Rai took a mechanical step to the right, rapped on the door with glowing knuckles.

“Tell me, is there a better way to go about this?”

“I can’t think of anything right now. Let’s get through this hallway first.”

“I could be wrong.”

“What’s there to lose by checking things out?”

Below their feet, the argument intensified. Several tenants must have gathered in the hall to demand explanation and punishment.

Rai’s hands fell to his sides. “You don’t need me to tell you this, but a little extra paperwork and the chief scowling at you for a two-three hour lecture is nothing compared to knowing someone died on your watch - especially if you could have saved them, worst of all if you stopped trying halfway.”

The next door awaited. They were nearing the door to Marina’s actual apartment.

“I want to believe you. I want to believe she’s here,” Rai said. “She’s been missing over a week now. If her legs are broken, and she’s without a phone, being behind one of these doors means she has a roof over her head and maybe some residual heating.”

Marina’s apartment door beckoned next. It looked as it always did - as still and mute as all the others.

“At the same time,” Rai said, “Broken legs and no contact with the outside despite being alive, she must have been weak after the incident and it’s likely she’s unconscious. To be in that state for a week… odds aren’t great. But they’re better if she happens to be nearby.”

He pushed open Marina’s front door and they entered the front hall. The lights were still on, as if the owners had just walked out - leaving bloodstains on the wall and floor as they went. But the stains were Sao and Rai's. Sao ducked to remove his shoes, Rai ignored him and trawled the living room.

“Where did you find her keychain?”

“On the sofa.”

Rai gave the sofa a thorough turnover, thoroughly abusing the velvet pillows. Dust rose in a cloud and Sao was somewhat annoyed that Rai wound up tossing all the pillows back in a disarray. Rai then scanned the windowsill, and the pictures. Blue hands unlatched one of the windows, and all the dust was blown back.

Sao stepped closer. What waited outside could have been an estimated 100-200 dollar view. The flat face of another building, dotted with blackened windows. In the distance, another old building, less than half populated, and another such that the sky was blocked out entirely.

The noise of the argument below floated up in bubbles. Do you know what time it is? Seen what you cops do when you’re allowed in… your badge? … file a complaint.

“I should call building management,” Rai was muttering, “Get the list of properties belonging to her. Cut down on time. If this building even has management. Maybe heat detectors will work on these doors. Van might be able to do a favor- huh.”

Rai twisted his shoulders, nudged his head out the window like he’d been yanked.

He tipped so far Sao almost gasped, but drew back in after a moment with a frown. Sao plastered together a smile. “See anyone out there?”

“No. Some kind of stain.” Rai stepped down from the window and back to the front hall. “Maybe a leak.”

Sao stuck his head out the window, into the windy night. It was like dipping into another dimension, soundless and monochrome blues, dotted with an scattering of illuminated golden squares. Windows of the apartments with people in them. And plenty of black squares. Looking across the wall, he could see the floor they were on had nothing but darkened windows. No other inhabitants. All the way to the corners, left and right, there was nothing but dark.

“See it?” Rai said. “This shiny streak coming out of a window.”

Sao had to squint. Several doors down, above one of the illuminated windows, there appeared to be shining string of liquid running down the building. It was some dense substance - the stream had balled up against bricks and where the dribble hit the window below, there was a crumpled wad embedded in the ooze. A bit of paper or tissue, from the shape, much like something he’d find in his pockets after laundering.

The smeared window in the floor below was open. Sao could hear the unrefined sound of an argument, no doubt a tenant who took issue with the officers checking in. He couldn’t make out a single word despite the force of the sound, shouting was lost to the wind. But the tone made it through, perhaps he was just hearing things but an old complaint echoed in his head and filled in the gaps as if he knew the speaker well:

What are you going to do about the vandals? Oh sure, I’ll bet you’ve got better things to do like barge in here. But what about--

Then a distinctly wordless roar. The wind carried the sound to Sao’s ears where it swirled, the angry woman’s voice and a metallic tap, not a blade but a bat.

“Did you ever see that old woman...?” Sao began.

“The one from the first night?”

“So you did. Of course you did.” Sao rushed for his shoes, for the door. “That night, I met her on the way out. I stupidly figured she had a complaint that was standard for the place, an exaggeration maybe, but I should have asked when it began...”

“Had a complaint about vandals.”

“Urinating down the walls. Dropping trash off the roof.” Sao was in the hall, counting doors, re-counting. “Not exactly standard teenage behavior.”

“True. She left in a hurry when I tried to question her. Well... I may have come across as a loon her by asking for a handshake. Afterward I circled the building, I saw nothing on the ground, no trash, nothing. Thought maybe the woman lived elsewhere. And what would messing up the side of a building do but...”

“It would accomplish nothing other than attracting attention – if you were lucky. But if one were hiding and no longer able to move, with access to nothing but the window, then you’d do all you can.”

“The complaint I got was ‘vomit running down the walls.’ In any case, it was something more than water.”

“You can’t hear much out there. So the captive, in her own flat, is looking for another way. And what does a woman have on her after an incident that takes her phone, wallet, possibly her legs? What do you have left on you? What might a highly adept identity thief not particularly care for? What’s too close to the body to be taken?”

“Reciepts. Lint.”

“Small change. Tissues. Perhaps lotion, hand sanitizer. That being the fluid.”

“You also have your own guts.”

Sao gave up on counting doors, he kept scrambling the numbers, doubted his memory of five minutes ago was even functional and simply began hammering the bell, then the door.

Rai followed without complaint. “Two more doors away.”

“Yes, yes. You know what I’m saying. You know, you know it all, so why didn’t you say anything? Why didn't-” Sao was barely aware of his whining now, but it was too late to stop.

“Calm down. I didn’t think to look here for the old lady’s complaints until now. This is on both of us. But what’s the point in running off in shame now?”

They were onto the door, the source of the 'leak'. Number 825. The open door to the apartment from which they had come was still in view. It was so close. He had been so close.

“Did you knock on this door?” Rai called at a cluster of officers, trying doors at the opposite end of the hall.

Sao ducked down breathlessly to inspect the lock. “Of course they did. But we knew already, if she’s passed out or scared or… otherwise incapacitated, she won’t answer. Or can’t.”

“Alright, we’re going to need some way to take this door down--” Rai swiveled. “Sao, what the hell are you doing?”

“Keep them off a moment, I’ll get in...” Paperclips were so fragile.

“You can’t check your own heating unit but you can crack open a lock?”

“Old home had locks, no heaters.”

Rai opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. Sao heard him set his feet down, but an argument about his home life seemed utterly uninteresting.

“It will open, give me a moment. Light’s not so good.”

Rai threw a hand up as if in a shrug, but instead, slowly moved the glowing fist over the lock. His skin, if it could even be called that, was close enough for Sao to feel the radiation. No part of it touched him, and there was no sweat or wrinkle or warmth, but it was not unpleasant. His own hands began to perspire around the line of wire he had lodged into the keyhole. He wanted to tear away.

But at very least, there was light. He had come too far to stop.

He continued to repeat those words to himself as the wire gave the near-inaudible tap he was looking for. He lurched up so quickly that he almost knocked Rai back. The hand fell back.

“You got it?”

“Too far to stop,” he said, completing his own thoughts. The door came open and his eyes met blackness dotted with residual blue. The apartment was dark, it was cold and empty - but no, as his eyes adjusted, in faded a window, then the edge of the wide windowsill and on it a shape that was almost upright, most definitely human. His heart warmed. Then came the smell, stale and sour, a life on the decline. Perhaps already reduced to its skeleton.

No movement.

Sao stopped.

He was blocking the door. He couldn’t move back, the officer was now standing at his side, too close. Then to his right, all of a sudden there were the forensic aides, tilting around him for a better look. Then someone who wasn’t in uniform, a tenant - and another. A family, kids in tow. The remaining officers. He was now trying to block them. He didn’t want to look, but they shouldn’t have been looking either.

The figure remained still, as if hit by stage fright.

Where was the indignity? Was she already so far gone that it wasn’t worth imagining? And these people, what were they hoping to see? They surely weren’t hoping to help. What was he in this? He had no authority. He had hoped to help and done nothing. Now here were a dozen or more with twice the power doing nothing. It all summed up to nothing, nothing was done, disappearances continued and shifters continued to eat. Nobody would ever do anything, nothing that could be done would make a change.

It was all a waste.

Something nudged at his sleeve. He nearly just brushed it off, but the uncanny light jerked his attention off the sight in the apartment and when his wits pulled together, he snapped backward into the hall. The crowd rippled away.

Rai, face wrapped in grim default, lowered his hand and passed into the darkened room.

Sao felt he was seeing a recording of Rai’s confrontation earlier in the night. He approached the silhouette of a body of the same shape, of Marina, in robotic strides with shoulders set. A glowing hand extended. A motionless crowd.

But no, one of the bystanders had to say, “Where’s her feet? Are those her feet?”

Marina’s legs were hanging, no, they were draped over the edge of the windowsill. There was no structure or angle to them, they hung and curled on the ground like limp purple towels.

The old woman behind him was incessant. Sao felt the old woman of his own upbringing seize his throat and snap, "If you aren't here to help, keep your mouth shut.”

Rai paused at his tone, but continued once silence was reinstated. His natural light hit an empty bottle, rolled on its side. A hollowed zipper pouch, the sort Sao knew women (among others) kept their makeup in. Then tangle of keys was lifted off the floor. Rai held them up for the doorway audience to confirm.

“Good catch,” he told Sao.

At the sound of his voice, the crumpled shape on the windowsill began to move. Sao’s breath stopped.

“Who is it?”

“Police.” Rai turned, the keys dropping to his side. “We’re here to help you.”

“Oh.” A glint of eyes, not the sharpest but most definitely alive. Her throat had been long dried out, but she was moving, breathing. “Oh god. I'm... am I dead?”

“No… I don’t think so.” Rai said with all of his usual efforts at comfort.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“We came to help.”

“Not them. You.”

“Don’t get up yet. Do you remember how you got here?”

“Yeah, I remember. But I asked--” she coughed. She had to cough more, but could not find the energy to wrack her muscles a second time. Her head lolled left for a better view. “Okay. I’m not dead yet. So what are you doing here? How did you..?”

“We haven’t met before now. But you know me.”

One eye closed. Sao saw the other had never been opened, but was caked with a dark crust.

“Yes,” she said. “You… you’re… you’re the guy who wrote about the spirits. Of the city.”

“It was just a fancy way of talking about ghosts.”

A sharp rasp, almost an echo of the shifter - perhaps that unnatural croaking had been her voice all along. An attempt at a laugh?

“So you know me. I know you too,” Rai said.

“No way. How?”

“We’re been looking for you. The police. Your colleagues. Your friends. Actually,” Rai turned. Sao was sliding down the door frame. “He’s the one that brought me.”

The single navy blue eye, identical in shape to the false face, gazed out the doorway. “Sao.”

“You remembered,” he said dully. It was all he could manage. His legs were rooted.

“Of course. You have the… touch.”

“Touch phobia.”

“Haphephobia? Might be wrong.”

Sao’s throat felt inadequate. Everything came out stony. “No, no. You’re right.”

“What?”

“It...I'm late. Sorry.”

“What happened to your face? Oh… I thought I heard your voice earlier. I also thought I was dead, or dreaming but you were in a fight…”

Sao’s hand flew to his unmasked face. He had removed all the coverup and forgotten to replace it after his laundry-centered revelation while at home.

“We owe you a lot of apologies,” Rai broke in gently, “And there are a couple explainations due, too. But this isn’t the place for them. Now that someone, I’m sure, has called an ambulance, let’s get you ready to leave this place.”

“Yes. Of course. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of this...”

Rai extended his hand to the patter of footsteps, rushing off to make calls. Sao felt singularly useless, but magically elated in his uselessness. “Maybe you shouldn’t move until the medical team arrives… Rai? Rai...”

But Marina’s hand was raised too, somehow it had gotten up, poised like a winter branch. Sao’s words retreated. Her right hand only two fingers left, stained and scabbed, fingertips black. Her lower three knuckles ended in red stumps.

“Oh,” she began, eye travelling up her arm. “This happened...” But with upsetting strength (or perhaps inability to move anymore) her hand remained waiting.

She could not shift further. Rai came forward and took the mottled hand in his, lightly, and the handshake engulfed in a steady blue light.

It occurred to Sao that the intent had never been to haul her up in the first place. It would have been irresponsible. It also occurred to him that this was the first time, for as long as he’d known Rai, gloved or no, that anyone had accepted his handshake in the full.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Marina,” Rai muttered, “it’s good to finally meet you.”