Got my claws in you

Chapter 6- different worlds, different lives connecting

JIMIN POV:

I pause outside a café, it seems to double up as a bakery, but the inviting smell of freshly baked goods are silently reeling me in and through the window I can see a young squirrel hybrid carefully placing newly made batches behind the glass display, tail utterly straight and stiff with how much he's focused.

I smile at the sight, endeared by it, and step inside- mouth-watering at the mixture of smells, of sweet, caramelised treats to the fresh scent of tea being brewed. I eye the layered subs that one of the employees are making, a human, deft hands slicing the bread and filling them- colours forming distinct layers. Hmm...maybe I should grab a few for lunch- Namjoon hyung and I always manage to work up a large appetite, and maybe a nice tea to replace the ice americanos he's always chugging down like water. I peer at the menu deciding which one he'd likely enjoy, brows furrowed.

I know no doubt that he's either holed up in his office or out following up leads. It was so incredibly frustrating to be able to see the devastation a child hybrid trafficking ring but have no idea where to begin. 

And I hated seeing someone who was pack, family- bear the brunt on his shoulders because was the officer in charge. It wasn't fair on him. 

It had been half a week and the lack of clues, lack of evidence was so, so frustrating. The fact that there didn't seem to be any way of beginning to narrow down any suspects made me feel hopeless, both my instincts as a fox hybrid and as an officer feeling downcast and disappointed at the inability to assess and protect. The situation wasn't anywhere near that stage.

And it was incredibly early days to hope that Min-Jun was making a rapid recovery and could give any insight, though (Y/N)- the sweet doe-eyed carer had been incredibly forthcoming with even slight details about his health, her voice sounding distinctively happy that Namjoon hyung and I were genuinely concerned. It made me wonder just how many unempathetic people she must've come across in the task force.

There's a group of guys, early twenties at the latest, eyes far too sharp and glinting with intent- roving constantly for them to be relaxed and unbothered as their lax postures suggest, legs sprawled across the floor, out in the way for other potential customers to trip over or have trouble moving past.

Troublemakers. It doesn't take the warning rumbling growl I suppress low in my throat at the sight of them, to let me know they're upto no good, their eyes constantly flit to the front of the counters where the squirrely hybrid is energetically talking to another employee, this one with animated perked-up ears as he easily plates the orders onto two large trays, drinks on one and food on the other.

And when he lifts the hatch to walk out into the café portion where the tables are, heading carefully for the group- I know it's him they've got their eyes on.

"Bingo. His hands are full." One of the boys whisper, lips curving up in a slow smirk, eyes raking over the bunny hybrid who's hands are carefully levelling the two and walking over, eyes more focused on the trays to notice.

But my ears hear it.

Prick up and catch onto the malicious intent I can hear in them, in each syllable. In the way their postures straighten up and stiffen, tensing.

The stance of someone about to attack. To leap forward.

And I see it.

See the way his perked-up ears twitch, wilting in the slightest, nose scrunching unconsciously even as he keeps a polite smile on his face, bending down to set the trays onto the table carefully, back arched over slightly.

See the hand reach out to move closer to the twitching tail, nervousness and fear I recognise- the soft slightly dulled scent of the bunny souring, see the hand move to grip and tug and move out of my chair, barely hearing the way it clatters noisily against the ground, a small screech as the table is bumped into, rushing forward towards that inching hand.