Yukiko Fujimine stood panting, her face pale, hair matted with rain and clinging to her cheeks. Her soaked nightgown made her look like she'd been fished out of a river.
Clearly, after witnessing the police car's collision with the ambulance, she'd rushed from the apartment to the police station through the storm without a second thought.
Seeing her drenched and pitiful state, Shuichi Hayashi felt a pang of warmth. He pulled his arm from the female officer's embrace, took off his jacket, and handed it to her. "Put this on."
"Huh?" Yukiko blinked, incredulous. "You're actually giving me your jacket?"
"I just don't want anyone taking advantage of you," Shuichi said, exasperated.
Yukiko glanced down, realizing she was wearing nothing but a knee-length nightgown. It didn't reveal much, but soaked through, it left her feeling exposed. Blushing, she quickly grabbed the jacket and slipped it on.
It's warm… but it smells like sweat. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.
Shuichi caught her sniffing the jacket like a dog before grimacing. "If it smells, don't wear it!" he snapped.
"Tch, I didn't say anything!" Yukiko huffed, clutching the jacket tighter as if afraid he'd snatch it back.
"Well, since your girlfriend's here, I'll leave you two be," the female officer said with a teasing smile, handing Yukiko the cotton swabs and iodine before walking away.
"I'm not his girlfriend!" Yukiko protested, though she took the supplies.
The officer's knowing grin only deepened Yukiko's flush. Pouting, she plopped down beside Shuichi, grabbed his arm, and started dabbing iodine on his wounds. "Why didn't you say something back there?"
"Harder, huh? Totally different league…" Shuichi muttered under his breath, referring to the officer's softer touch. Then, nonchalantly, he added, "We don't know her. A little misunderstanding doesn't matter. If you care too much about what others think, you'll wear yourself out."
"What kind of old-man talk is that?" Yukiko said, giving him a strange look. "You sound like you've lived forever."
"Strictly speaking, I'm not quite a grandpa yet, but I'm getting there," Shuichi said with a sigh.
"Grandpa, huh?" Yukiko rolled her eyes, assuming he was joking, and carefully continued disinfecting his cuts.
Outside the Mihama Police Station, Chief Ono stood by the curb, eyeing the shattered front doors and the headless police car nearby. His temples throbbed, his head ready to explode.
This is what that kid meant by 'fix it and it'll be fine'?
Fix it how? Replace the whole front end? And the station's doors—wrecked beyond repair. The damages would easily run one or two million yen. Mihama was a small station, and wrangling funds from higher-ups was always a hassle.
Whatever. It's taxpayer money. Let the Metropolitan Police deal with it. Worst case, they'd skip the repairs and keep the broken doors and car. His pension was safe, and with one more year until retirement, that's what mattered.
Chuckling at the thought, Ono's suppressed grin finally broke free.
"Chief Ono, you're this happy about the station doors getting smashed?" a voice called from behind.
Ono jumped, turning to see twenty or so men in suits, each sporting a cherry blossom badge. Leading them was Toshiro Odagiri, a senior officer from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police's First Investigation Division.
Odagiri's youthful face sparked a twinge of envy in Ono. Both held the rank of Police Inspector, but their status in the police world was night and day. Odagiri, an elite career officer, was destined for at least Superintendent General, maybe even head of the Criminal Investigation Bureau. Ono? He'd peaked as Mihama's chief.
Should've studied harder when I was young… Ono mused, but he plastered on a warm smile. "Odagiri, my friend! What brings you here?"
Odagiri frowned, looking at Ono like he was an idiot. "The communications center got a call about two Mihama officers being attacked, one's gun stolen. What do you think we're here for?"
Oh, right. In his excitement, Ono had forgotten to inform the Metropolitan Police that the case was resolved. He slapped his balding forehead, laughing awkwardly. "My bad, made you come out for nothing. We've got the gun back, and the case is closed."
"You sure?" Odagiri raised a skeptical brow. The Metropolitan Police knew Mihama's track record—hardly a powerhouse. If Mihama were competent, the First Division wouldn't be stretched thin.
"Absolutely," Ono said, a hint of pride in his voice. "We've got the gun, and the four fake paramedics are locked up in the station."
They actually pulled it off? Odagiri, still dubious, decided to trust Ono for now. "What happened to the station doors and that car over there? From the chase?"
"Yeah, the robbers tried to escape in an ambulance, but our officer chased them down and crashed them right into the station," Ono said, a touch of flattery in his tone. "Odagiri, my friend, about the repair costs for the doors and the car—think the Metropolitan Police could…"
Odagiri cut him off. "Where's the officer who drove the car? I want to meet him."
The ability to recover a stolen gun and corner robbers into a police station screamed the kind of decisiveness and action the First Division needed. Odagiri's eyes gleamed with interest.
Ono's stomach sank. He knew that look. Mihama's reputation for incompetence comes from the Metropolitan Police poaching our best officers! Over time, only the mediocre remained.
Before Odagiri could march inside, Ono stepped in front of the door. "Hold on, Odagiri. The officer's injured, getting treated. Let's talk about those repair funds first, yeah?"
"That's not my department," Odagiri said, annoyed.
"Oh? What was that officer's name again?" Ono said, hands behind his back, feigning forgetfulness. "It's slipping my mind."
"…Fine, I'll talk to the director when I get back," Odagiri grumbled. "Now can I see the officer?"
"Of course!" Ono stepped aside, grinning. "We've got a deal, Odagiri. Don't back out!"
(End of Chapter)