Mihua Commercial Street
"A smart kid like you joining the Metropolitan Police would be a mistake," Chief Ono said, pointing at Yukiko Fujimine sitting beside Shuichi Hayashi. "Take this, for example: you've got a pretty girl like her as your girlfriend now because you're still students. But if you become a cop with a measly salary, she'll dump you for someone with deeper pockets."
Yukiko, tired of correcting people's assumptions about her and Shuichi being more than classmates, let the comment slide. What caught her attention was something else. "Chief, from the way you're talking, have you been through something like that?"
Ono's face clouded with melancholy as he nodded. "My first love. We were together six years, but because my cop salary was so low, she married a banker instead. All these years, I've never forgotten her. Never married anyone else, either…"
"Shuichi-kun, that's what happens when you pick the wrong career. Don't make my mistake."
…
"Here's your precious jacket back," Yukiko said, tossing Shuichi's coat at him as she stepped out of the police car, her eyes red from holding back tears. Ono's story had hit her hard.
The car started again, heading toward the Mouri family's building. On the way, Ono continued his campaign to dissuade Shuichi, preaching about the woes of police life: low pay, endless work, and a lifetime of regrets.
"I already told Inspector Samezaki I'm not becoming a cop," Shuichi said, exasperated. "And quit with the sob stories. They might fool an idiot, but not me."
"How'd you know I made it up?" Ono asked, genuinely surprised.
"Next time you spin a tale like that, take off your wedding ring first," Shuichi said, rolling his eyes. "And that tie around your neck? Custom-made, right? The English on it says '30th Anniversary.'"
"Thirty years?" Ono froze. "No wonder she gave me this tie this morning. Oh no, I forgot our anniversary! I didn't get her a gift!"
"You're in trouble, Chief," Shuichi said with a smirk. "Judging by the custom tie, your wife clearly cares about today. If you don't fix this, that sad story of yours might actually come true."
"Damn it! The department stores and malls are closed by now. Where am I supposed to get a gift?" Ono groaned, his face etched with panic. After thirty years of marriage, he was deeply grateful for his wife, who'd stuck by him despite his low pay. The last thing he wanted was to upset her.
As the police car passed through Mihua's commercial street, Shuichi spotted a flower shop still open and pointed it out. Ono pulled over, and both he and Shuichi stepped inside.
The moment they entered, the sweet scent of flowers enveloped them. The shop, roughly sixty square meters, was a vibrant mosaic of blooms, every inch meticulously arranged with flowers of all shapes and colors.
A graceful middle-aged woman, the shop owner, greeted them warmly. "Welcome, gentlemen! What are you looking for today?"
"I'm just browsing," Shuichi said, gesturing to Ono. "This guy needs flowers for his wife. It's their thirtieth wedding anniversary."
"Thirty years? You and your wife must be so happy," the owner said, her eyes sparkling with envy.
"Haha, it's alright," Ono said, a proud grin creeping across his face. "So, what flowers are best for an anniversary like this?"
"For a wedding anniversary, red roses are the way to go—symbols of love," the owner explained with a smile. "The number of roses matters, too. One rose means 'you're my only one,' a sign of devotion."
"Two roses represent our shared world, the beauty of being together."
"Three roses—"
"Sorry, I'm in a rush," Ono interrupted. "Just tell me what's best for my situation."
"For a thirtieth anniversary, a hundred roses!" the owner said cheerfully. "They symbolize growing old together, eternal love, and companionship."
"A hundred roses…" Ono's cheek twitched. "How much?"
"One rose is 100 yen, so a hundred is 10,000 yen," she replied.
"Ten thousand…" Ono rummaged through his wallet, pulling out a stack of colorful discount coupons. "Flower shop, flower shop… here! Can I use this?"
The owner examined the coupon. "An eight-percent discount. Just 8,000 yen, then."
Ono paid, and the owner called toward the back of the shop, "Midori-chan, come help!"
"Ugh, so loud!" came a grumpy reply. A striking girl with shoulder-length hair and a bold aura emerged from behind a flower rack, gripping a wooden kendo sword. Dressed in a deep blue sailor uniform, she snapped, "Buying flowers in this weather? Old man, aren't you too old for this young people's romance nonsense?"
"Midori-chan, don't talk to customers like that!" the owner scolded, then bowed apologetically to Ono. "I'm so sorry. She's been spoiled since she was little."
Delinquent girl? Shuichi's gaze landed on the girl's pleated skirt, which reached almost to the floor. Unlike the knee-length skirts typical of Japanese schoolgirls, long skirts were a hallmark of delinquents—practical for hiding things and avoiding wardrobe malfunctions during fights.
Noticing Shuichi's stare, the girl, Midori, huffed, about to say something when her mother clamped a hand over her mouth. "One more word, and you're skipping dinner!"
"Mmph!" Midori clearly wasn't happy, but the threat of going hungry was effective. She shot Shuichi a sullen glare, then reluctantly set down her kendo sword and followed her mother's orders, dutifully carrying a hundred roses to the police car.
"Sorry for the trouble," the owner said as they prepared to leave. As an apology, she returned Ono's coupon and pressed a single red rose into Shuichi's hand. "Please come back soon!"
(End of Chapter)