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The police station buzzed with quiet exchange and the occasional ringing of stationary phones. Never quiet, never sleeping. Some people wiped their tears in front of compassionate officers, others, more virulent, were held down.
Ayato liked the place.
Unquestionably, in spite of being a young recruit, he had seen horrible and despicable things or humans coming up to his office. But, at least, it was easy for he merely needed to provide counsel to the lost ones, and harshness to those who needed a good wake up call. In fact, ever since he had begun his training, he had had to give up on violence, however, his fists did itch sometimes to beat up the scums that threatened social order. (He also clenched his jaw when he acknowledged some of his past actions in the younger ones’ police record, shame creeping up on him involuntarily.)
Normally not an adept of the black-or-white vision, the simplicity of the duality was welcome. If he wanted his personal life not to be overtaken by his professional one, he had to put some distance with himself at work, and the dichotomy helped a lot. The young man still gave all his heart to the causes he deemed just, and would not admit it so as not to sound vain or pompous, but his integrity and openness actually contributed to develop a better synergy in their station. Everyone smiled when they espied him passing by, colleagues and citizens alike. He did receive a few homemade dishes here and there, for which he was particularly grateful, given he often skipped dinner, too exhausted to cook, falling asleep the minute his eyelids closed, muscles sore.
It felt nice to be appreciated. He already had supportive friends and family, therefore, he ensured the delinquents seeking guidance would know they had an ally in him. In Chidori, his public high school, he unfortunately had been a witness to some of his classmates making stupid misdeeds to feel seen, only to dive back in the moment the help they managed to get came to an end. He wanted to be the anchor to push people to be better, similarly to how his brother was for him. And he mostly succeeded. Except for one.
Through the glass door, he spotted her at once.
She was the sole oddity, here.
Madoka Yuzuhara.
She did not fit in any of his categories.
She did not need to be comforted, or restrained. She sat legs extended in front of her, indifferent. He knew for a fact the edge of the plastic chair she was slumped on was digging in her neck, and yet, she did not change her posture. Her pupils were observing the ceiling with attention (or was it boredom ?), mouth moving. He was too far to guess if she was talking to herself, chewing a gum, or nibbling on her dried flesh. (Not that he particularly paid attention to that, she simply usually bled or picked at the skin which unnerved him ! He had proposed her his lip balm once, frowning. She cried laughing. He did not.)
She was calm, never causing a ruckus, as if she resigned herself to Fate each time she was caught.
She did not need him to “sweet talk” her as she put it, nor try and play the tough cop, unless it was a different scenario (her words, not his !). And why would he, he asked himself once his abashment subsided ? The girl was clearly stubborn, or she did not care in the slightest for help. As much as it aggravated him to consider, perhaps she was just a lost cause…
His sigh could not be contained as he swung the door open. There were so many people, the air warm even though he was sure they had an air conditioner. His two collaborators followed beside him, chatting mindlessly. One man abruptly stood, slurring over his words he was not drunk and they had no reason to keep him there. And her.
He looked away, thoroughly disappointed when he confirmed it was her. It was definitely not the third time she ended up here. (And each time he wished she was not. Foolish. What could he expect from her ?)
Ayato truly could not grasp why she was throwing her life away this easily. Over petty offences at that ! What kind of desperation was it ? He had tried to pierce her carapace to no avail. Why was she like this—
“Officer !” She shot up from her seat, calling him in a singsong voice.
Everybody turned to them.
Of course.
He had sensed it seconds before, when her olive orbs locked on his figure, when the sounds disappeared in favor of his pumping machine, when it all slowed down.
And there she was, beaming, waving a hand at him, as if she was a long lost friend of his. Except she was not.
He smiled at her, traits taut, indulging her with a polite nod. (He could feel a tick mark materialize, especially when she simpered, sitting back down, crossing her bare leg over the other, as if it was a throne and she already had won the game.)
(The game had only begun, he swore to no one but himself.)
A file was handed to him in passing, a file he recognized immediately. Half of him wanted to scream, the other was... smug, to say the least.
Now that he had everything they collected about her, he would not miss her. He was staring at her picture, expression defiant as always, while putting down the lunch they bought on the table of their rest room. Already plotting on which buttons to push so that he would convince her to cease. He did not stop to question whether this whole affair was only linked to his ego.
“You know you’re supposed to dissuade her from restarting, right ? And not… Whatever you’re thinking of.”
Ayato halted. Even if they had been in the same graduating class, his coworker repetitively tried to put him down in order to make his self stand out. Needless to say, it frequently had the opposite effect, thus the young man never entered in his game. He was confident enough in his abilities not to risk his position. However, it did grant the other one more respect from the older members, having been and repeated this situation. (Which he disapproved of, but never criticized aloud. Who was he to impose his opinion ?)
The younger man imagined nonetheless he was not as bad as he appeared, purely insecure, because he could provide great advice and be an even greater partner. When he wanted.
“What do you mean ?”
- You seem happy.” The second one answered, a middle-aged loner, required to supervise the both of them.
Oh, he was. He was finally going to get the upper hand, get her to admit and change her ways. He did not stop to question whether this whole affair was too personal.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chose his words as cautiously as he emptied the bag. Better not to let them in, they would not understand. The first one exhaled nosily.
“I mean, you’re young, she’s a cutie…”
- What…” His voice faded, his head snapped.
He did not like where this was going. Not at all. And not coming from him.
Plus, as if they were not around the same age ! His nose wrinkled, when the guy nudged the impartial party, trying to get a reaction out of him. The knot grew in his throat.
“I’m saying — because I would —,” He added, with a leering smirk. “It’s completely fine if you ever feel the need to tap that ass—”
- Pardon me.”
Screw his good thinking. His fists were so tight and itching he knew he would throw a punch if either uttered a single word. His jaw muscles were aching from the jovial expression he forced to cover the smolderingly glacial one. He heard their breath stutter.
After a minute, the eldest left, jaded. He followed suit. He could not stay in longer.
The words whirled echoingly. What did that mean ? Sure, Madoka Yuzuhara was objectively a pretty girl, with wavy brown hair, messy over her emerald orbs, and a bright smile. But it did not enable anyone to talk about her in such a crass manner. His colleague should not have brought this up, and kept it to himself : no one was willing to listen to such obscenities. (Unwillingly, an image of the girl flashed in his mind. Given her brazen way of speaking, she could have liked— No, it did not concern him.)
He breathed, steering his mind clear. (His fingers pushed the buttons of the vending machine with too much force. He almost ripped the bag open when retrieving it, as it was still stuck in the mechanism.)
He strode. He could not place why. The recent anger ? The recent excitation ? Right now, he wanted to get it all over with.
“Yuzuhara-san.” The police officer named her, approaching.
Be nice. He had to remind himself.
“Officer.”
It irked him. The way she languidly said the word, half-way between an insult and a whine.
“How are you today ?” He kept a cordial front.
- Better now that you are here.”
Okay… He had to stay rational, or else it would not work.
“I’m glad to hear tha—”
- Actually, would’ya have a cigarette ? I could light one up.”
He internally rejoiced.
To be perfectly honest, she was not exactly a stranger. While he did not know her prior to her malfeasances, they had conversed a few times. (The first was the worst of all : he took her for a victim and she did not correct him even once ! Thankfully, a co-worker stopped him before he accompanied her out, but in less than a blink, she had disappeared.)
On one hand, because he was not the one to take her declarations, he could not dig deep, ordinarily interrupted by her shouted name. He did, on the other hand, manage to catch some of her tells and preferences. And he was proud to reminiscence she did not smoke, only tried to ruse.
“I’m sorry, I don’t.” She jutted out her bottom lip. “Nevertheless, I do have some salted candies.”
He did not miss the spark in her eyes.
Got her.
“You know me so well, Officer.” She stood, reaching for her prize.
- Ah-ah.” He shook his head, lifting his arm up. “For that, you will have to answer my questions. What do you say, Yuzuhara-san ?”
He barely peered down and she was a few breaths away. She gasped, pondered a second, and plopped back down on the chair, crossing her arms.
“Fine.” She grumbled childishly.
He grinned. One-zero for him.
Ayato glanced at the seat next to her. Whether she had a lot or very little to explain, it would be best to sit, putting himself at her level, so that she would not flee from the progress, at any given moment. Sure, there was a probability she would do it anyway, but he wanted to try nonetheless, have faith in her, and maybe lend her a hand out of her disarray.
“May I ?” He cocked his head in the chair’s direction.
She nodded, closing her eyelids. From the way her chest heaved, she surely was apprehensive. He needed to gain her trust first.
“Would you like one ?” He opened the bag, let her choose.
- Whadd’ya want to know ?” She complied, munching happily.
- Well, I suppose the question I want to ask is : ‘’Why ?’’.”
He flipped through the pages of multiple reports. Nothing very notably severe. Mostly theft. Mostly from grocery stores, sometimes bigger shops. For a thrill, he guessed.
Her scrutiny lifted from her ends to his face. No emotion passed on her visage, eyebrows raising after he closed the file. How could she stay this impassible ? Did she not care ? She probably did not. If she did, she would have sought help.
…Right ?
“What ? Did you expect me to be a highly dangerous criminal ?” She mocked, voice trembling with bitterness.
His regard descried her face. He tried to understand, but nothing made sense. What did she do ?
“I stole. At least tried to. Good thing I put that fancy lip gloss on before they captured me, whadd’ya think ?”
Did he say that out loud ? How did she lower his guard ? Or was he simply tired ? He could not think straight. And why did she have to allude to her lips, digits tapping on his leg to get his attention ? He did have a look, and mixed with the earlier discussion, a detonative cocktail surged through his veins.
Damn it ! He did remark it was from a luxurious mark his mother gushed about, and he promptly understood the appeal. Why was it so shiny ? Why was it a stimulating red ? Why did he want to mess so badly with it, now, taste it ?
He closed his mouth, noticing his jaw had gone slack, gaze zeroed on the gloss. Since when these thoughts intruded ? He made an effort to inhale as profoundly as his lungs allowed him to. He needed new, fresh air. (He would not mind hers—) No ! He had to stay professional. Not stay stuck on how he searched for her every day, could hear her voice in the streets, could feel her in the loneliness of his bed— What was happening to him ? Look away, look away. Do not give her attention ! She wants to confuse you.
“Oh…” She noticed, her tone sultry, her hand firmly resting on his thigh. “Would’ya want a kiss ?”
He watched her lean forward, and it felt right for an instant. Like gravity pulling her to him. Electricity between their bodies crackling. Pressure growing exponentially and begging to be released. He could not.
She jumped on him, and he managed to grab her by her shoulders and push her away, avoiding an accident. (Something tacky on the corner of his lips—) Oh, he felt fire in his veins.
“Madoka Yuzuhara !” His breathing was short as he admonished her.
- Full name, huh ? Oh, you mad ? That’s hot.” Her eyelids dropped along with her voice.
He exhaled through his nose, willing himself to ignore the tingles on the tip of his ears and how he might have slipped were they not in public.
“Concentrate, please.”
He was at his limits. He knew it. She knew it, and she disliked it as well. It had been going on for far too long.
“Alright, alright, fine !” She rolled her eyes, shoving him. “You want to know why ? Because I’m a bad kid, that’s it.”
She brought her knees to her chin, hiding away.
He froze.
Never had she seemed so vulnerable. Her brows were knitted together, pupils moving as if she was reliving bad memories. He inclined his body on his knees to catch them.
“What do you believe happened ?”
- I don’t know.”
He heard the quiver at the beginning of her sentence. He wanted to trap her in a hug, but she probably needed to let it out. More than have comfort. He tilted his head and hummed, urging her to continue.
“I was at this elitist private school, and I couldn’t keep up. I was alone, or rather I ended up this way. People turned on me because I couldn’t control my anger and hurt one of my friends. And then…” She tilted her head back, water pooling in the corners. “And then I fucked up school, and my parents were mad, and I was too, so I ran away. But when I came back, they said I dishonored them or whatever, and they left me to fend for myself and—”
Her voice cut.
Tears slid over her cheeks. She wiped them with her sleeves.
“I’m sorry. That’s far from sexy.” She giggled, ignorant to the way his heart ached. “Anyways. I’ve been living like that for a few years, so that’s why I feel the need to be a delinquent. Why would I live differently ?”
Her words were muffled in her sweater, as she buried in her arms’ comfort. He noticed the broken ridge of her glasses.
“Don’t you have anyone else you’d want to… I don’t know. Just someone else that could help ? Family ? Friends ?” She was already shaking her head. “A boyfriend, perhaps ?”
Her whole body tensed up. It was almost comic, if not for the reality crashing on him.
Oh…
What did he expect ? She must have seen an easy target in him.
“Well, there is this boy I like.” She tucked her chin in, trying to conceal herself in her hair, fingers picking nervously at the frayed knitting. “But I doubt anything I’d do would impress him. He’s… Different from me.”
She locked her gaze with his. He could not bear it.
“How about you try ? I haven’t known you for long, but you look like a solar, bubbly girl. People wouldn’t get bored with you around, and I imagine you have more qualities than you let on.” He interlaced his own hands. “Don’t doubt yourself. Try, persevere, and before you know it, there will be light again. And if he doesn’t see that, maybe he doesn’t deserve you.”
Her eyes were wide open, searching for his face. Her face reddened, and her vision went glassy anew.
“A-ah ! Don’t cry.”
- I’m not.” She lied, reaching under the glass.
- Sure.” He humored her, his hand caressing her back.
He would miss her.
“Hey, uh…” The policeman was not exactly sure where to start. “No one is watching right now, so you should make your escape while you can.”
She eyed him up and down, bursting in laughter. She sounded like broken glass made into a masterpiece.
Good things always came to an end. She stood up, tugging on her shorts.
“How did you know ?” At his puzzled expression, she clarified. “For the candies. How did you know ?”
He opened his mouth, unsure so as to what to say.
“I know you better than you think.” He shrugged, unable to admit more.
She squinted, suspicious, and spun around, disappearing in the crowd.
He did not stop to question whether this whole affair was more than he let on.
More than two months (Actually, 76 days. He counted.), and she did not reappear.
Either she had gotten better at slipping under their noses, or she had stopped. (He hoped for her it was the latter.)
It felt strange not to see the brown head splayed on a seat, cream legs standing out against the dark clothes she wore, energy unmistakable, every two weeks. Her file was sitting on his desk, and he tried to bury it under others, in vain. She was continuously there, in the corner of the table or his imagination.
His movements were conspicuously slower, people often inquiring about his health.
He was fine ! He got attached to her presence, the same way youngsters never resumed their illegal activities. Except it was unaltered pride for them. She was a different story. She had been since the beginning.
Days blended, similar, bland. In the evening, the sky greeting him was a dark blue, the walk home was under yellow lights, and his keys lied next to the jade decoration his mother had insisted on him taking. Jade. Like her irises.
A pale green, not unlike meadows. Blurred brown bordering. Precious opal’s specks.
His breath hitched when he got a glimpse of them.
He had been lethargic, ignoring the colleagues laughing when they asked if he lost his girlfriend, unable to hang out with his friends. He dragged his feet, eyes lost on the ground, as if it would give him answers. A murmur.
“Hey, isn’t that…”
And her.
Out of a dream.
Reclining on a barrier, one hand in her pocket, the other holding a lollipop. (From the moment she had had a fit of coughs and almost man-handled the person next to her for smoking in a closed space, he knew she did not smoke.)
She was calm. (Could she have been waiting for him to finish his shift ?)
(It felt egoistical to wish.)
And so what ? He was an acquaintance of hers. He had the right to greet her.
“Good evening, Yuzuhara-san.” She visibly straightened up at his voice. “I see you’re enjoying a treat.”
- Yeah, I probably stole it though. You should arrest me, Officer.”
She scoffed, more radiant than he remembered. Her wrists were touching, directed at him, mimicking handcuffed ones. He dug his hands in his pockets, uncertain of what to do with them. They were currently itching for a different reason.
“Ah, I can’t. I’m not in service anymore.”
- Shame.”
Her lips stretched thin, as she nodded. He followed her line of sight. She twirled the faintly gleaming candy between her fingers, pensive.
“You know… I stopped. Like definitely. Still trying to impress that boy.”
She seemed almost sheepish admitting it, curling on herself. She must like him a lot, he mused, throat tight.
The silence felt awkward to him. As long as she was happy... He uttered a brief :
“I see.”
All he could offer, as of now. With time, it would be easier.
(But would it ?)
“What do you think ? Of me ?” The girl questioned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He had to blink multiple times.
“I am proud you stopped. Indubitably. And I am glad you’re getting better. You deserve the best.” His eyeballs were prickling pretty badly. “What does he think ? Do you know ?”
She hummed with a shrug, popping the lollipop from her mouth :
“Said something along the lines of pride, glad I was getting better, and me deserving the best. Except I already am aware of that last bit.”
Did she—
No, the sentence was pretty corny, anyone would have thought of it. And yet, he could not quit gawking at her, as she bended down to retrieve something in her bag.
A colored plastic bag was handed to him, in bold letters the name of his favorite brand of sour candies.
“I am basically waiting for him to clock onto it too. Sooner than later, ideally. Understood, Officer ?” She clarified, staring straight into his soul.
What ?! His heart throbbed. He was paralyzed from head to toe. His thoughts were scrambling, no words exiting his open mouth.
“Um… How did you know ?”
- I guess I know you better than you think.” She retook his past words with a cocky smile.
With that, she pecked the corner of his lips, grabbed her handbag and left.
He was going to combust.