Case 1

[CW: There is a brief mention of suicide in this chapter. Nothing graphic or anything like that, just a mention of it. There is also mention of murder as well.]

Early morning sunlight poured into the brick loft apartment from a small window above a stair landing.

The loft had wooden furniture—a wooden table on the right side against the wall, where a lamp, notebook, pencil, and computer sat and a small, vertical bookcase was at the other wall next to it.

The books that were on the bookcase had covers depicting the human body, anatomy, medicine, and other subjects. One of the boards had a large collection of Sherlock Holmes books.

There was a bed next to the desk, and wooden wardrobe against the metal rails that surrounded the loft before connecting to metal stairs that headed down into the living room.

Willow Harden laid in bed, curled on his side, his body raising up and down softly with each breathe.

His white hair, long and flowing, spread out from beneath him.

Ember, an orange tabby cat, was curled up against him.

Willow woke up, blinking his eyes and sat upright, stretching.

He glanced down at Ember and patted his head, before getting out of the bed.

Willow walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a long-sleeved white shirt, black pants, boxers, black socks, and a black tie.

He put them on and adjusted the tie before walking downstairs.

The living room was a large open space, and the entire apartment had wooden floors.

A TV was in the middle of the room, with a coffee table, couch and two plush chairs in front of it, with a tall lamp next to the couch.

Gaming consoles were connected to the TV.

On the left side of the room was a long wooden table and wooden chairs with cushions.

A long, horizontal bookcase hugged the tall wall where the loft apartment was situated above near the dining table.

On the right side of the room was a door on the corner of the wall and near the opposite side of the wall was another door.

Near the stairs was a large, glass window next to a sliding glass door that led out to a patio where a small table, and two chairs were near the door, and a wooden bench with a cushion and plant pot were on the outside wall to the right.

After going to the bathroom, Willow stared in the mirror as he washed his hands.

A young man with a feminine-like face, freckles, and pale pink eyes like crystals stared at him.

Willow walked across the living room and into the kitchen, where he poured cat foot into bowls that were on the floor.

Nyx, a black cat, meowed before moving over to eat.

Ember scampered over, rubbing against Willow’s leg before joining Nyx.

Willow moved over to the fridge and oven and then started making breakfast.

He made eggs in a pan, put toast in toaster, and poured orange juice into two glasses.

The toaster dinged, and he pulled out the two pieces of toast and put them on separate plates, and then did the same with the eggs.

Willow added strawberry jam to the toast and put utensils on the plates before moving everything over to a table, setting one set of food in front of the chair in front of him before sitting down at his chair.

Jason Chase walked into the area, rubbing his head and yawning.

He had short black hair that almost looked cropped but had pointed hair strands.

His eyes were blue reminiscent of a pond.

Piercings adorned his ears and rose tattoo arm sleeves were on his arms.

Jason had a slightly more muscular physique compared to Willow’s lean physique.

He wore a tank top and sweatpants.

“You don’t have to always make breakfast for the both of us,” Jason murmured. “It always makes me wake up early. I don’t open my tattoo shop until 10. It’s like, 7 in the morning.”

“Then sleep in if you don’t want to be awake,” Willow said, drinking his orange juice.

“Ha, and miss your cooking?” Jason said, shaking his head. “Hell no.”

“You’ll be going back to sleep when I leave anyway,” Willow murmured, holding his fork and pointing it at Jason.

“True.”

Jason sat down, grabbing his own fork and started eating.

Willow stared at him for a second before turning his attention to his own food.

Willow grabbed the empty plates and washed them before moving to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and then walked into the living room, taking hold of a suitcase that was placed by the door and putting on black shoes.

Jason walked past him, heading towards his bedroom.

“Have a good day at work, White Rabbit,” Jason said, waving.

“You too.”

Jason paused and then turned to stare at Willow.

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” he said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No ‘have a good day at work’ for me too?”

Willow blinked.

“Do you wish for me to say it?” he asked, tilting his head.

Jason’s face burned and he quickly looked away.

“N—no,” he stammered. “Agh, forget it.”

He glared at Willow, clenching his fists.

“I hate you.”

Willow met Jason’s gaze unflinchingly.

“…So I’ve been told,” he said, grabbing the door.

Willow left the apartment as Ember meowed at him.

The crisp morning air bit into Willow as he walked down the riverside sidewalk.

Across the Thames River, he could see Big Ben in the distance.

Willow crossed the street, entering downtown and stopped at a bus stop, sitting on the bench.

He stood up when the double decker bus arrived, climbed into it, and sat down on a seat.

An old lady walked by, and he adjusted his suitcase to be on his lap as she sat down, nodding slightly at her.

He looked out the window as the bus drove through the city.

When the bus eventually stopped at a stop near the Old District, Willow got off the bus and walked down a street.

Up a sidewalk, in between a barber shop and a flower shop, stood a low brick building with a wooden sign that read “Harden Funeral Parlor” above the door.

Willow entered the building.

The entrance lead into a small area where there were chairs and a sofa.

A clerk desk was in front, and there was a large area to the right while the left lead down into a hallway.

William Harden stood in the middle of several people.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, with blonde hair and green eyes.

His face had some wrinkles, and glasses adorned his face, while his attire was a suit similar to Willow’s, with a black tie, black pants, and black shoes.

He paused when Willow walked into the hallway.

“Willow,” he murmured. “Punctual as usual.”

“Yes, Father,” Willow replied, adjusting his hold on the suitcase. “I have the files sorted.”

“Good. Walk with me.”

They walked through the hallways, passing by other people.

The hallway had dimmed lights, and the smell of lavender incense permeated the building.

William looked at Willow.

“We’ve got a showing for a man who committed suicide via pills,” he said. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“I shall do my best.”

“I know you do. But, Willow, this requires a bit of tact. Something I don’t believe you have.”

Willow squeezed his sleeve, his steps faltering for a second before realigning.

“…Do I have to adjust the way I speak? I cannot help how I talk. This is how I am.”

William stopped walking, and looked at Willow.

“I know,” he murmured. “Maybe it would be better if you observed me. Is that alright?”

Willow fidgeted in place, glancing at the ground before looking at William.

“If you believe that is best.”

“Thank you.”

William patted Willow’s shoulder, before turning around and walking away.

“Put those files on my desk.”

Willow walked into William’s office.

The office was filled with the scent of books and sandalwood.

Various bookshelves were against the walls, with a wooden desk propped in the corner that had a lamp, a closed laptop, and a photograph on it, with cushioned chairs and a couch in front of it.

He pulled the files from the suitcase and put them on the desk.

Willow glanced at the photo on the desk.

A much younger Willow, with short hair wearing a sweater and jeans, stood next to a younger William in front of a building with a sign that had the words “Merry Orphanage” on it.

Willow stood in the corner of the room, watching.

There was a casket in the large room that was off to the side in the building’s entryway.

Various photos of a man were scattered around the room, and soothing jazz filtered through the air.

A family surrounded the casket, all dressed in black as they cried, consisting of a woman, man, children, and other family members.

William stood in front of them.

“…and may God bless his soul,” he murmured, putting a hand on his chest.

“Thank you so much for doing this for us, Mr. Harden,” the woman said. “I knew your business was the right one.”

“You are too kind,” William said, smiling softly.

He walked up to Willow and stood next to him.

Willow blinked, staring at William before looking at the casket.

“…Is it so bad that the man decided to end his own life?” he asked, adjusting his stance.

William watched as the family crowded the casket and cried.

“Some people cannot handle living and decide that death is the only way out.”

“Why?”

William shook his head slightly.

“Social pressure. Bad or soured relationships. Mental illness or stress. There are many reasons. But our job isn’t to judge them. Our job is to give some reprieve to those that were left behind.”

“…I see.”

Willow squeezed his sleeve.

“Will I ever be like you one day?”

William looked at Willow.

“I believe you can. You will.”

He patted Willow’s head.

“…That was unnecessary.”

“You looked like you needed it,” William murmured, smiling softly.

Willow blinked.

“I did? But I do not recall changing my expression.”

“You’ve been squeezing your sleeve ever since you entered the building. You don’t need to worry. It’ll be alright.”

William walked back towards the family.

Willow leaned against the wall, staring at William.

Willow walked down the street, holding a cup of coffee.

The sky was orange-brown as the sun set.

He looked up from his phone and paused.

An old woman was at the crosswalk, looking at the stop sign.

She wore a long-sleeved dress, cardigan, and had a purse.

She had brown eyes and her hair was pulled up in a bun.

Willow quickly walked up to her.

“Allow me to help you cross,” he said, holding out his arm.

The old woman looked at him in surprise.

“Oh, what a nice young man. Thank you.”

Willow walked with her across the street.

“May I ask you name, sonny?”

“Willow Harden.”

“Harden?” the old woman said, looking at Willow. “Ah, are you William’s son? I had heard he had adopted a boy, but I didn’t expect him to be so handsome.”

“Father adopted me when I was ten,” Willow murmured, tilting his head.

The old woman smiled.

“Is that so? And is he a good father?”

Willow paused, blinking, before looking at her.

“Yes, he is. He was the only one who took me in, despite how I am.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She took out a pink lollipop from her purse and handed it to him.

“Here, have this.”

Willow stared at the lollipop, twirling it in his hand, before looking at the old woman.

“A physical reward is unnecessary,” he said, tilting his head. “I helped you because it was the moral thing to do.”

The old woman stared at him and laughed.

“Good deeds deserve to be rewarded,” she said, pinching his cheek.

Willow blinked.

“…I see. Very well. Thank you for the gift.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day.”

“Yes, you too,” Willow said, nodding.

He watched as the old woman walked away.

He touched his cheek, and stared at the lollipop.

Willow opened the apartment door and entered the room, locking the door.

He walked into the living room area.

The sunset glow shining through the balcony window made the wooden floor shine.

Jason lounged on the couch, his arms spread across the cushion.

He wore a white tank top, leather jacket, ripped jeans, and black boots.

Willow sat next to him, and handed him the coffee and the lollipop.

“You got me that coffee I texted you about,” Jason said, taking the cup. “Thanks.”

He stared at the lollipop that was also in his hand.

“What’s this from?” he asked, staring at Willow.

“An old lady gave it to me for helping her cross the street,” Willow said.

Jason groaned.

“Seriously? Again? You’ve gotta stop doing that, man.”

Jason adjusted his sitting position, unwrapping the lollipop and putting it in his mouth.

“Kids’ll get jealous if they see you getting lollipops for free.”

“But it is the right thing to do,” Willow said, looking at him.

“Yeah, but you don’t know those people,” Jason replied, shrugging.

Willow tilted his head.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “One day, someone’s going to take advantage of your kindness.”

He nudges Willow’s shoulder.

“And I won’t be there to help you.”

Willow looked at the floor.

“…Understood.”

“Man, can’t you not speak like a robot?” Jason murmured, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe our old classmates were right in calling you that…”

Willow looked at Jason.

“You never did.”

“Yeah, because I have brains,” Jason said, glancing at Willow and smirking. “And I’m your best friend.”

He puts his arm around Willow.

“Where would you be without me?”

Willow blinked.

“Still living with my father.”

“Can’t you just let a nice moment be?” Jason asked, side-eyeing Willow.

“No.”

“Ugh.”

Jason removed his arm, smirking.

“I hate you.”

A small smile appeared on Willow’s face.

“I know.”

Jason blinked.

“Was that a smile I saw?”

“No.”

Jason groaned.

“…Geez. You’re impossible…”

He changed the TV channel.

A man dressed in a suit appeared on the screen.

“…And in other news, there has been another murder in the East End slums. As usual, it was an old man who was recently kicked out of his home for reliance on drugs. The police believe this is another victim of the Silent Killer, the serial killer who has remained elusive for years. We have an interview with one of the deceased’s relatives—”

Jason turned off the TV.

Nyx walked up from around the couch and jumped onto his lap.

Willow stood up and walked up the stairs.

“Hey.”

Willow paused, turning his body halfway to look at Jason.

Jason stared at the floor.

“…When are you going to stop?”

He looked up at Willow.

“You’re not helping them, you know. You’ve seen for yourself that they have families.”

“…You say I’m not helping them,” Willow murmured, turning his body forward. “But if that was the case, why do they come to me to help them die in peace?”

“That’s…”

Jason sighed, rubbing his head.

“I don’t know how you’re able to do it so cleanly,” he muttered. “And frankly, I’m not interested. But… Can you at least think about if that’s really the right thing to do? …The next time you’re in that position.”

“…I will think about it.”

Willow headed upstairs to his bedroom.

Willow sat down on his bed, looking at his bookcase.

Ember scampered up the stairs and jumped onto his bed.

Willow glanced at him before petting him as he looked out the window.