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PRECINCT 41: Kim Kitsuragi is keeping a secret from you.
AUTHORITY: You notice this because you are an exceptional leader who notices things about his team. You have been working hard to prove yourself as a good leader.
YOU: You have done all sorts of things to this effect - showing up to work (mostly) sober, checking out the entire shelf of leadership books from the Jamrock Public Library (under the name Guillaume Vicquemare, because your own library card has been revoked) and, most successfully, instituting a praise-based sticker reward program for the officers.
ESPRIT DE CORPS: Stickers are handed out for various reasons - a case well-closed, volunteering to cover patrol duties, surviving an ambush. Officer McCoy gets a sticker when he goes a week without shooting someone. Officers Vicquemare and Minot get stickers for solving THE CASE OF THE STICKY FOOTPRINT. Officer Kitsuragi gets a sticker for successfully chasing down a suspect in the Kineema.
YOU: You really put some effort into the stickers, too, browsing all the Fritttes you pass for their selection. Your latest find - scratch-and-sniff food stickers that are carefully matched to each officer the scents remind you of - are a big hit.
ESPRIT DE CORPS: (“Why did I get the durian fruit one?”
“Because you smell like shit, Torson.”)
PRECINCT 41: The stickers are a bigger hit with some officers than others. Officer McCoy suggests your sticker usage suggests something deeper about your sexual proclivities. Chester and Mack stick them to each other’s foreheads. Kim takes his sticker silently, frowning down at it, as Jean turns on you. Jean provides a five-minute diatribe, then stomps off to the roof to smoke two cigarettes in quick succession. Gottlieb asks if you are on drugs - again - and Berdyayeva gives you double patrol duty after telling you the best motivation you can give her is to get out of her sight.
KIM KITSURAGI: It is not long after this that Kim begins acting *strange.*
SUGGESTION: The strangeness revolves around his prized notebook. Previously, he had been somewhat free with it - letting you look at it over takeout, or flip through it for reference, or even once write notes in it while he was elbow-deep in corpse goo.
KIM KITSURAGI: That has all changed. Now, when you glance over in his direction while speaking to a suspect, he hunches over the notebook, curling in on it protectively. When you pass his desk, he flips it shut rapidly and puts a hand flat on it, as if keeping it from your prying eyes. He even has taken to bringing it into the bathroom with him.
DRAMA: Gone is that trust, sire! He must be cruelly betrayed to act like this!
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Maybe you did something and blacked out. Something *awful.* Something *terrible.* Whatever it is, you should probably have a drink about it.
HALF LIGHT: He’s writing a burn-book about you.
YOU: What’s a burn book?
ENCYCLOPEDIA: A list of all the ways he hates you.
AUTHORITY: That’s not it. Kim is probably an RCM spy documenting all your wrongdoings. Building a case against you so they can finally fire you once and for all.
SAVOIR FAIRE: *I* think he’s ranking your fashion choices. Let’s hope it’s all tens.
SUGGESTION: That’s not it at all. I think it’s something - sexier. See the way his ears flush when he does it?
CONCEPTUALIZATION: Only one thing makes sense: he’s drawing lewd artwork of the two of you in compromising positions.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You should give him more to work with.
YOU: The next time you find yourself in the precinct locker room with Kim, cleaning off after STORM-DRAIN BLUES, you put a little extra effort into posing for him as you dry your ankles.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Detective, is there something wrong with your leg?”
EMPATHY: He sounds concerned.
COMPOSURE: He is so concerned his ears are turning red.
1) “Which leg?”
2) “My third leg?”
3) “Don’t you think this is an inspiring pose?”
YOU: “Which leg?”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Either of them,” he says, blinking.
1) “Which leg?”
2) “My third leg?”
3) “Don’t you think this is an inspiring pose?”
YOU: “Don’t you think this is an inspiring pose?”
KIM KITSURAGI:”Yes, detective. I feel very inspired…to get back to work.”
YOU: Finally, you cannot take not knowing anymore.
ENDURANCE: It takes three weeks, the assistance of Officers Elfboy and Sundance, and a bucket of fish guts - which costs you fifteen reál - to put your plan in action.
DRAMA: A few carefully-delivered lines -
KIM KITSURAGI: And Kim is rushing out the door of the precinct to assist a fellow officer, his jacket - with incriminating notebook - shucked hurriedly, and left on his desk.
DRAMA: Jackpot!!
YOU: You wait until the sound of his boots clattering down the stairs has faded from earshot, then creep over to the jacket and carefully extricate the notebook.
KIM’S NOTEBOOK: You flip through it rapidly - case notes - case notes - case notes -
VISUAL CALCULUS: A spot where a page is torn out. Several of them, even. You can make out the impressions of letters on the following pages. Is that a “Pros” and a “Cons” list?
(INLAND EMPIRE: Pros: Extremely funny. Strangely attractive. A good detective. Probably cries during sex? Cons: a late-stage alcoholic. Does not remember what money is. Probably cries during sex.)
KIM’S NOTEBOOK: There it is - what Kim’s been hiding.
YOU: My…stickers?
KIM’S NOTEBOOK: Several pages in from the back cover is a notebook page carefully covered in stickers. They are neatly and evenly placed. There is the scratch-and-sniff orange sticker, half a dozen GOOD-JOB and WAY TO GO and YOU’RE SUPERTASTIC stickers, including the one with the bunny, the one with the penguin, and the one with the bear.
(“I gave you that one because you like bears, Kim!” you had said, and Jean had coughed behind you.)
KIM’S NOTEBOOK: All of the stickers you have given him are in here.
YOU: I - thought he threw them away?
VISUAL CALCULUS: See how the stickers are two pages from the back cover?
YOU: Yeah, and?
LOGIC: Planning ahead.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: The lieutenant yearns for more stickers.
JEAN VICQUEMARE: Heavy footsteps come into the room. “Shitkid, are you snooping through Kitsuragi’s stuff again? Leave the man alone.”
1) “Jean, where are your stickers?”
2) “Jean, look at what a good job Kim did with his stickers.”
3) “I don’t think I’m physically capable of leaving Kim alone.”
YOU: “I don’t think I’m physically capable of leaving Kim alone.”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Yeah. We know.”
1) “Jean, where are your stickers?”
2) “Jean, look at what a good job Kim did with his stickers.”
3) “I don’t think I’m physically capable of leaving Kim alone.”
YOU: “Jean, look at what a good job Kim did with his stickers.”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Oh, no. Not this again. ‘Jean, Kim is so much *cooler* than you. Jean, Kim *arranges stickers* better than you.’”
1) “I don’t sound like that.”
2) “Are you jealous?”
YOU: “I don’t sound like that.”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Yes you do.”
1) “I don’t sound like that.”
2) “Are you jealous?”
YOU: “Are you jealous?”
EMPATHY: Yes. He is.
1) “Jean, where are your stickers?”
2) “Jean, look at what a good job Kim did with his stickers.”
3) “I don’t think I’m physically capable of leaving Kim alone.”
YOU: “Jean, where are your stickers?”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “On my desk. Like a normal person.”
PERCEPTION: There they are - marching up the left leg like ants, and across the front. Every GOOD JOB and WAY TO GO and THANKS NEIGH-BOR (this one featuring a glittering pink unicorn.)
YOU: “That’s destruction of RCM property, Jean.”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Like drowning a Coupris 40 in the sea?”
PAIN THRESHOLD: Ouch.
RHETORIC: Fuck the man, man.
PERCEPTION: Wait - are those Kim’s footsteps? Quick! Drop the book!
REACTION SPEED: Too late.
KIM KITSURAGI: He comes huffing up the steps, wiping his forehead with his forearm. “Someone has played some kind of *practical joke* on the RCM. I don’t know who it is, but they are really a pathetic individual with too much time on their hands.”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: Jean eyes you up and down.
YOU: You freeze, caught red-handed.
KIM KITSURAGI: He turns to you, then raises an eyebrow. “Detective, what are you doing with my notebook?”
HALF LIGHT: The temperature drops a half-degree.
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “Hey Kitsuragi, the shitkid found your shrine!”
KIM KITSURAGI: “My what?” His ears turn red.
CONCEPTUALIZATION: Cute! They match the most recent sticker you’ve given him - a ladybug giving an anatomically incorrect - and very enthusiastic - thumbs up.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Detective. Did you go through my things?”
1) “No.”
2) “We really should promote you to double yefreitor.”
3) “Kim, you kept them? I thought you hated them.”
YOU: “We really should promote you to double yefreitor.”
KIM KITSURAGI: He comes over and reaches for the notebook, tugging it out of your hand.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: You tug back. This goes on for awhile, until Kim abruptly ends the tug-of-war by stomping on your delicately shod disco toes.
PAIN THRESHOLD: I always knew Kim was *mean.*
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Please, can he be mean to us?
1) “No.”
2) “We really should promote you to double yefreitor.”
3) “Kim, you kept them? I thought you hated them.”
YOU: “Kim, you kept them? I thought you hated them.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Khm. They are - charmant, in a way. I know you put a lot of effort into choosing them.”
SUGGESTION: He noticed??
INTERFACING: You *really* have to find some motor carriage ones.
SHIVERS: In a Frittte on the corner of Broadway and Third there is a dusty stack of sticker sheets. The fourth one from the bottom is the ’49 Tip Top Commemorative (Official, Licensed) sticker sheet.
INTERFACING: The 49’ Tip Top Tournee is Kim’s *favorite.*
YOU: “Kim, a sticker collection this good deserves a Good-Job sticker.”
KIM KITSURAGI: He almost winces. “No, detective, it is really not necessary-”
YOU: “Here!” You reach into your chest pocket, pulling out a slightly damp sheet of stickers. Tongue between your teeth, you survey them, then nod, peeling off a sticker of a squirting soda bottle that says BOTTOM’S UP! “Here. This one feels like you.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “I feel like you have a lot to learn about me,” he says, inexplicably, as you reach for his notebook. “Ah!” He stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Allow me.”
STICKER-BOOK COORDINATION: You’ll ruin his careful layout.
KIM’S NOTEBOOK: He carefully puts the sticker next to the ladybug, smoothing it down with gloved fingers. “There. Now. How about you come help me with this barrel of fish guts? If you do a good job, perhaps *you* will earn a sticker…I’ll even pick it out for you.”
YOU: You follow him down the stairs and out of the precinct, wondering what your very first sticker will be.