Leo Thrite's getting too old for parkour. 

Min-Ji, the young teenager, tried telling him that but he didn't listen. Now he's feeling the way his vision is rocking back and forth, the rain cries all over his face, and his vision being blocked by very chiseled back muscles that still show through the shirt and vest. He feels like his whole body has crumbled beyond repair.

"Urgh.." Leo groans and he's sure the person notices it immediately, as they fasten their pace, at least that's what Leo thinks. "Let me go." Leo himself can't tell what he's saying, but roughly it's that.

The man mutters something, Leo doesn't care, only focusing on the realization that he's been thrown over someone's shoulder like a bag of flour. 

"Let me go." He mutters again, groggily, as he tries swinging his legs that are on the other side.

A masculine voice, slightly trembling and a bit raspy, answers: "No, I can't leave you here like this." A few long red strands of hair hit Leo on the face, making him more frustrated. The detective decides that this man is a kidnapper. He notices the grip on him was weak, and that everything is slippery enough for him to be able to roll off the shoulder, maybe.

He shoves himself off the man's left shoulder with a swift push, feeling himself falling and then hitting the ground, his back immediately taking the consequences of being old enough to get back pain. He hears the 'kidnapper' faltering and falling down to the ground with a thud, that's right, he underestimated his opponent didn't he? Leo tries to shove his own hand into his brown coat's pocket.

He misses his pocket, again and again. It's dizzy, everything is dizzy. What's happening—what happened to him? Leo gasps, feeling the way his insides suffocate as he tries to figure out how to breathe properly. He can't see things and they're all a blur, wobbly reflective from the wet stains of the rain, the cloudy sky isn't helping either. He finally holds the base of the gun.

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He stuck the finger between the trigger guard, yanking it out of the pocket. His breathing is still rough as he removes the safety mode and points it towards the stranger. "Don't—" he huffed, vision still blurring. "-come near me."

The man, at first, seems to listen. And then Leo sees the blurry movement of the man stomping his foot to the front, now in the pose of kneeling and in the process of getting up. "I said don't come near me, you kidnapper." Leo hisses, the side of his body aching from the fall, how tall is that man?

The stranger stops in his current form. "I'm not a kidnapper, I just want to bring you to my friend and—" click "—heal you." The man raises himself up from the ground.

"In one of the most high-rated crime cities? Don't joke with me." Leo grunts. The stranger steps forward, Leo presses lightly at the trigger.

Leo feels a big droplet hit his cold gun. He caught a brief view of the man’s face. Then the stranger lunges towards Leo's direction, grabbing Leo's hands and grabbing the gun, then immediately throwing it away. "Hah—!" He yelled, pushing Leo onto the cold, broken bricks, and muddy ground.

Leo shoves his forehead upwards, hitting it right onto the stranger's nose. He scrambles to the side, trying to find his gun, surely it's easy to find right? wrong. There are too many scraps that have the same color as his gun and the fact that his eyes are still heavy is worsening his situation. He reaches out to the nearest scrap, begging internally that it's his gun.

He feels the man pulling Leo’s ankle down, "a—AGH!" Leo screams as the man drags him to where he was previously. "You son of a bitch!" He kicks the man frantically.

"You—ow! I swear I just want to-ow, help you!" Two big golden eyes stare up at Leo, intimidating him and causing him to stop for a second, but one tug down and the detective scoffs.

"As if I would ever believe that!" Leo yanks his feet off of his grips and grabs the nearest thing which is his gun, apparently, huh, so what was the scrap up there? Leo whips his body back, but before he could do that the man throws himself forward and holds Leo firmly in some un-friendly hug. It's crushing him.

Leo trashes his legs around, his nails scratching against the fabric of the stranger's clothes and tangling each of the carefully sewed fabric strings. Leo pushes him to roll to the side with a loud thud, the puddle beneath rippling and causing waves when the red-haired stranger is pushed onto it. With Leo now on top of this bastardly strong man—the muzzle of the gun now pressing against the forehead. Leo grunts, his breathing unsteady. He sees a brief view of himself in the puddles.

Red, he is being splashed with the red color, contrasting his white skin and hair. Maybe that's better, his looks were always a bad omen. He stares back at the man beneath him, the color red dripping down to his shirt and vest, tainting them like how it tainted himself, from pure white to a scarlet red. Right, he died. Wretched from the hands of the underworld, brought to life within seconds after he fell from the 9th floor of a building. He heard his head crack clearly, the way his neck twisted, the way he knew how the blood seeped through the openings of the broken grounds of the slums.

And then he feels the impact on the back of his head right before he falls down to the side, eyes slowly losing focus as he hears a click. He hears a pained scream—yelp?

Leo briefly sees a talon, and once he hits the ground he’s gone.