2025-10-15: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster
- Log: Katsuya Suou and the Mouldy Case of the Sweater Monster
- Cast: Myunghon Yeo, Katsuya Suou
- Where: The Cardboard Dragon Third Floor, Hirasaka Wrad
- OOC Date: October 15, 2025
- IC Date: July 26, 2012
- Summary: Katsuya mistakes a noise of pain for an opportunity for JUSTICE, and instead runs into a being mosteth grotesqueth andeth fouleth, miladyeth.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
> I borrowed some more baking implements from a friend.
> It's still difficult to mix and fold...
> But I think I'm improving, little by little.
(LIME sticker of a cute Koala struggling to climb)
Such was the last set of texts Myunghon sent earlier today. It's perhaps nice to see someone embarking on a new hobby, even though there's quite a lot of challenges along the way. When Katsuya arrives later in the evening at the Cardboard Dragon, though, he finds it empty... one typically closed door is actually now-- open. What was that mysterious door leading to all this time?
Myunghon's messenger bag is on the couch, slightly ajar, and their phone is on the coffee table.
There's a faint noise of clattering and movement from upstairs. It doesn't look particularly suspicious, but once Katsuya looks, it looks like beyond the door is... well, Johnny-kun the Guardian Plant of the Cardboard Dragon's actually been moved to the other side, and then Katsuya realises that this is actually the main entrance that people are supposed to go in through, albeit sealed off. The elevator has signs that it's broken and should not be used, much like the one downstairs.
"Ow! Oww ow!"
That was Myunghon in some distress from upstairs.
Should he... investigate?
<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
It's been a little bit exciting for him (yes, this is what passes for excitement for Katsuya Suou) to be able to educate someone else in the ways of baking. He's not often alotted a teaching role in most things he does in life (outside some mentoring of late with officers who are more junior than he is (a feat)) and there's something that feels good about passing on knowledge--
Especially for a subject, nay, artform near and dear to his heart. It's been a welcome distraction from the weightier matters that draw his attention in the world, as well. So, when the option comes around (and when he has a free day out of his long stretch of what may well be 'permanent night shift' workdays), he's more than happy to pay Myunghon a visit.
Except, they're not in.
And that door over there is mysteriously open.
Clattering sounds announce a presence upstairs. That's right, Myunghon lives in this building, despite it not being zoned for residential use. He hasn't reported it, though the matter galls him terribly. What if there was a fire? No one would know they were here.
"..."
Is that... really the main entrance? Then, why the fire escape--
Before he can puzzle over that mystery for very long, there's a sharp cry from upstairs. A person, in danger! You couldn't build a better siren song for someone as justice-obsessed as Katsuya.
Without thinking very much about it at all, he races upstairs, shoving open any doors and brushing aside any obstacles that might stand in his way, to see--
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Ascend and rise, swiftly, Katsuya Suou, for justice, as...
-=GWARRRRRRRRRRRR=-
A SWEATER MONSTER has appeared in front of Katsuya Suou! Command?
It's a bit startling at first, but it appears that that is Myunghon Yeo, who is currently having difficulty fitting themself into a pale gold sweater because of difficulties with their arms such that the sweater is somewhat fused between their face and arm in a manoeuvre that one has to charitably call 'the shimmy'.
VISUAL CALCULUS -- A tipped-over pitcher of water (plastic, fortunately), next to a tray that's also been upturned.
DÉCOR -- Oh. Oh sire. Forget the sweater monster. There are *bigger* evils at work here.
The third floor is charitably described as a *grotesquerie*. It goes beyond the pale of 'living in a commercial space', which could be civil. The second floor is pristine enough and licensed for commercial use... but the third floor is another matter entirely.
The smell of mould sharply contrasts with the stench of disinfectant to Katsuya's nostrils, somehow, like two warring sides on opposing forces, as if waging a historical and protracted war from which there will be no winner, only losers.
Then there is a constant drip; it is easy to see that there is a natural corner in which leaks are centering toward -- to a plastic bucket that bravely is catching it all, as if to bear the brunt of the world. The walls are grotesquely mottled in black mold in places, even though they've made the effort to clean and eradicate the mold, but a non-weatherproofed building like this has no chance.
Part of the ceiling is caved in, thoroughly soggy and rotted.
There's a men's bathroom on the way in. It has a urinal in it. There's that commercial space charm.
The rest of the living space is... bare. There's a window boarded up with playwood and other planks where Shinobu had to board it up for them, then Gumiho drew a fun little picture of a Jack Frost to 'give the room the KOOL it deserves'. It says KOOL BOSS on it.
But other than that and a mini-fridge just sitting on the floor, and a lumpy, cold futon in the centre... there is a full-length mirror propped up against a stack of cardboard boxes. Some of them are merchandise, stock to be moved to the store. Others appear to be-- their belongings. There's markings on the boxes -- 'clothes', 'personals', the like... and the date is from quite a while ago.
The very picture of someone who never made this space their own. Things that people would've long moved onto wardrobes, cabinets, dressers. The only thing close enough to a wardrobe is a plastic garment rack on wheels, the kind that costs 1,000 yen at the corner store, which hang a few of their more frequently used garments. Some of them are Mei's, the femme ones; the other ones are the funerary suits.
In the midst of all this, Myunghon Yeo has given up on trying to get the sweater hole over their head and has slumped to the floor in frustration. They don't appear to have noticed someone coming up in their struggle with the sweater.
There's also a final note of embarrassment.
They don't have pants or a skirt on right now.
<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
He races upstairs and past any obstacles that may afford themselves to come face to face with a-- sweater monster. It still takes him a moment to properly resolve what he's looking at and unpick what has happened in this place.
More important sensory details are coming to him in the moment. Such as the, ugh, smell. He's been in some of the run-down parts of Sumaru. Some people can't help where they live (or, given his line of work, die), and being a homicide detective means at some point you stop being precious about smells. But there's one thing about the smell of a corpse, or where a corpse is known to be waiting, and yet another thing about bursting into a residence like this and smelling mold. The antiseptic does little to ameliorate the scent: it's an interesting spin on the mold smell, he'll give it that.
By interesting he, of course, means 'bad'.
But here are things here to assault yet more of his senses. The smell suggests that there's mold, and yes, there it is! And even the roof is leaking and rotting, suggesting that it's one bad period of rain away from collapsing in altogether (how did Myunghon survive June? did it involve tarp? how will they survive winter?).
He turns his head and sees the urinal. He turns his head, and sees the lumpy futon. The piles and piles of boxes. It's like they've been living in an abandoned building this entire time (that's exactly what they're doing, more or less, Katsuya) rather than any real sort of living space. He'd-- thought it was bad enough that they were living illegally on the third floor.
This is worse. It's not just a fire hazard. It's a health hazard. It's a structural collapse hazard. It's--
And then, as the long moment in which Katsuya painstakingly takes into account the various horrors of Myunghon's living space comes to an end, Myunghon gives up on their struggle and collapses to the floor. They don't have pants or a skirt on right now. Mercifully, they have on undergarments. This, however, is a strained mercy.
Katsuya, crimson-faced, turns around so swiftly it's a wonder he hasn't merely rotated in space.
[SAVOIRE FAIR]: If you walk down the stairs right now, it's a straight shot to the front door. Myunghon will never have to know you were here. In fact, you can just never come by again.
[VOLITION] Medium - Failure: No. I'm sorry, Suou-kun. I can't let you walk away like a common creep.
"I'm very sorry! There is no excuse for this!" he barks out instead, rooted to the spot where he stands. "I heard a sound like someone-- like you were in distress and-- I didn't see anything!"
He absolutely did, or he wouldn't be like this right now.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
The question of how Myunghon survived last winter is indeed an incredible one, and perhaps answerable by 'they didn't know nearly as many people as they do now that people noticed' and also 'by being sick a lot'. It's truly only a matter of time before that part of the roof collapses, soggy and rotted as it is. It's not the kind of thing that's an easy fix either -- this building's been taking its share of lumps since perhaps the early 80's, and it doesn't look like anyone's put the money, even before Myunghon, to truly reinforce and renovate it to... any modern building safety code.
Unfortunately, Katsuya doesn't turn around and immediately abscond from the loft. Instead, he barks out and explodes in embarrassment, which of course, in turn, causes -Myunghon- to shriek as they suddenly realise -someone- is there and they flail and finally pull their head through that sweater hole, equally red-faced as they realise that it's -Katsuya-, and then they're tugging the sweater down to try to cover themself.
"Suou-san?! What are you-- *why* are you in here?!" He answered that already, but the panic is clearly not taking in facts. They flail with that sweater sleeve to try to shoo him away and exclaim, "WHY are you still standing there?! Please--" There's a wince as continued flailing just hurts their arms further, and they reach for a white skirt nearby and shimmies into it in record time, wheezing and panting. The sling is scattered not far from the futon, not currently worn... and there's a large pile of old bandages ontop of that.
"Goodness gracious, *really*..." Myunghon whimpers in a fluster, now that they're at least in a state where they're decent enough to stop panicking... Katsuya witnesses continued shimmying as Myunghon has to do some interesting things to get their arms into the arm holes, given that they don't have the capability to do things like 'lift their arm overhead'. It's probably a mercy that the sweater is somewhat oversized.
Still feeling conscious and naked (not literally. thankfully, to the both of them), they unsteadily reach for one of the hangers and just drags the white coat without standing up, letting gravity do the work as they drape the coat over their shoulders.
"... I am dressed now," they advise numbly, since Katsuya turned around. Then a second after that, they realise that not all the bandages are on, so all the scarring and damaged flesh that's normally hidden under all the bandages, such as on their neck and arms, are visible at the moment. Fortunately, their face is still covered, since they're extra-loathe to take that off. The face can be redresed last.
<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
He, truthfully, had assumed they weren't even here last winter. Shouldn't that have killed them? (It may well almost have.) In any case, if the roof doesn't kill them (outright, or through exposure) the mold certainly will do the same just more slowly and insidiously. Isn't there a restaurant on the first floor? Has the mold spread down that far (or into the Cardboard Dragon, where sometimes there are children??) or is it still quarantined to this disaster of a third storey floor?
There are a lot of questions that Katsuya wants to ask (or demand, or skip the questions outright and just deliver unto Myunghon the lecture to end all lectures) but alas, he's made a very grave error indeed in coming up here. Myunghon is half-dressed. ...Barely dressed. And they ask the most important question of all:
Why in the world is he still standing there? Even with his back turned!!
[HALF-LIGHT]: Run! RUN!
Panic settles into his gut at last. It's only for some heroic force of will that he doesn't bolt for the stairs: he might see something untoward, some part of him instructs, if he did. He instead stays firmly rooted to the spot, his gaze straight on the opposite wall, as Myunghon finishes dressing behind him.
They're dressed now, they announce, and the words sound like they've come from very, very far away instead of just a handful of feet of. He doesn't react at first: did something in him break?
"I, I see," he says, without turning around. "I-- I assure you, Yeo-san, I did not mean... I would never! Not on a woman who was dressing...! I am truly very sorry..."
With trepidation, perhaps believing he might have misheard them, somehow, he starts to turn about about again.
He is still red-faced with abject embarrassment. "If-- you want me to leave--"
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
If there's anything Katsuya's known about Myunghon in their short relation together, is that they tend to be fastidious -- their clothes might have had the life sucked out of them a long time ago at times (the suits, mostly; the femme fashion is still nice, if not new), and the Cardboard Dragon proper was always... clean. It's difficult to imagine Myunghon themself alone capable of cleaning a big space like that by themself, but they do it, somehow.
So this, by comparison, is...
There is a darker statement within, perhaps, between the spaces that people publicly access and thus has to be kept clean, and one that only they live within, and thus...
Katsuya's choice of gendering does hurt a bit, but it's not new, by this time they've gotten used to it -- and yet they still haven't corrected him, like they're resigned to the ambient radioactive assumption by this point. "No, no, I should have--" they let out a little strained, trembling noise. "I should have locked the door. No, wait, I forgot to shut the store as well in the first place, did I not? That was how you were able to step in the first place."
And they forgot their phone and belongings downstairs. Someone could've just lifted that!
It still hurts a little, but Myunghon finally does rise off their feet with some effort. They pick up a little first aid kit as they do so, and then looks towards Katsuya proper as they step closer towards the stairs. "... this is embarrassing. I don't typically like to show this floor to anyone."
For obvious reasons??
<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
Now, this is the mystery he hasn't yet cracked. They're exacting in their presentation, and yet-- this. All of this. He need only look around him (well, not at the present moment because he's staring at the wall-- oh no more black mold) to see that there are such pristine (or, close enough) pieces of attire amonst such rot that one can't help but think taht it might be almost symbolic. Or poetic, if one has a poet's heart.
Let the exterior be clean. Let it be the shell of a Platonic egg, white and unmarred. But the inside is hideously rotten and redolent with foul odor. So long as the shell isn't cracked, then all is well, but--
Yet, this isn't a matter upon which he can dwell now.
Once again, he makes assumptions (assumptions in which he hasn't been corrected just yet, unlike with Tsubasa's own pronouns) about Myunghon. They tremorously venture that it was their mistake, that they ought to have locked up, that they should have closed up the store, that--
"No, no-- absolutely not!" Katsuya insists, in a flurry of his own. "I-I-- it was my fault! I should have called out, first, rather than assume! I--"
As Myunghon rises to their feet and starts to walk right on past him. He stands there as still as a statue, watching them as they pass.
This is embarrassing. They don't like to show this floor to anyone.
"A-about that," he stammers, still getting past the hideous embarrassment of the situation, "the-- the roof is going to fall in. --Not immediately!" he corrects, hurredly, waving a hand dismissively in front of himself. "But-- it can't be safe to live up here! The mold, and-- and the water, and the rot... and there's no insulation!"
Is... that what he was paying attention to, as they were struggling with their sweater, barely dressed?
Well. Yes.
<Pose Tracker> Myunghon Yeo has posed.
Katsuya's flustered flurry peppers them as they move towards the entrance -- not quite as dressed and bandaged as they'd like (they usually like wearing leggings), but it'll have to do for now. They put their slippers on, but then Katsuya brings to mind the dire truth of the third floor.
The roof is gonna cave at some point. The mold. The water. The rot. The lack of insulation. The broken window.
"... I know," Myunghon quietly admits. And for once... the gentle and amiable Myunghon seems distant, like they have nothing more to offer about the situation other than a matter-of-factly statement that, yes, they are quite aware of the situation, and no, they're not going to do anything about it.
"The cost to repair everything in this building is immense. I can't afford all of it."
It's worse, too. Katsuya is in the privilege of knowing that Myunghon owns some safehouses -- he hid in one with Hamade after her attack at Ebisu Beach. He's been unfortunate enough to be part of the procession where Tsubasa was pulled from another one, so they number at least two. So Myunghon is in possession of -some- other properties, and yet... they choose to live here. Is it out of some attachment to the property, the store? Or...
It speaks, plainly, to how much care they believe themself to deserve, compared to others.
They look over their shoulder gently, somehow smaller and vulnerable, trying to deflect with that gentle smile of theirs.
"Shall we head downstairs? I want to show you some of the new tools I obtained..."
<Pose Tracker> Katsuya Suou has posed.
Even the embarrassment of seeing someone else in such a state (well, someone he's viewing as femme; he's been to public baths with other men of course) can't hold firm against the sheer horror of what he's seen up here on the building's third floor. Maybe he could let it slide if their residence was a little more... suitable, but this isn't a home. It's a pending deathtrap one way or another, whether Myunghon freezes to death some terrible night in the winter, or the roof falls in in a most sudden and terminal way, or they just succumb to breathing in black mold.
And... they know, which serves to immediately deflate whatever indignation or horror Katsuya might have build himself up towards.
They know. They just can't fix the building. The cost is immense.
"If you moved into one of the safehouses, or even sold another property--"
Which is as close as he's getting to tacitly accepting their crime of residing here.
But even he cuts himself off, because he remembers what Myunghon said before. Instead, in silence, he takes another look around at the squalor of the apartment, and finds even himself at a loss for words in this exact moment.
"I... see..." he utters at last, and here they've already moved to the stairs.
Shall they show him instead some of the tools they obtained?
"...Yes," Katsuya says, still in those minute ways trying to assemble the last few minutes into some sort of coherent... sense of the world in which he thinks he exists versus the world that actually exists.
"Yes, please do."
It's a relief to leave the third floor behind.