My name is Yoko Ogawa, and I work as a male probation officer. My job involves supporting men who have been mentally or physically harmed by women and helping them recover. I take pride in this work, believing it to be a vital role in assisting those in need.
This job is highly regarded, often described as the aspiration of women and the hope of men. I remember the day I graduated from the training academy and was assigned to the field, celebrating the occasion with my friends.
But reality is not as kind as I had once imagined. The lifespan of a duncan—the term we use for our female probation officers—is typically five to seven years. At the time, I had no understanding of what that truly meant.
"Yoko, let's go for drinks!"
"Saki, are you drinking again? You know we have that meeting with the elementary school kid tomorrow. I told you not to drink tonight!"
Saki Kawamura is my colleague, someone who graduated from the academy with me and has been working alongside me ever since.
"Yeah, but tomorrow's case is that attempted boy abduction, right? It's such a delicate matter. I can't handle seeing that hopeless look in a young boy's eyes. It's just too much for me."
Saki is incredibly kind-hearted. Most of the women who become duncan officers are driven by a desire to support men, to walk alongside them in their recovery. But the gaze of men who have lost all hope in life cuts deeply into us.
There's a never-ending line of officers who, like Saki, turn to alcohol or succumb to mental illness and quit the job.
"Saki, think about the boy instead of yourself. He's the one who needs us."
"But he's only 11 years old! It's just too cruel. How can a child so young go through something like this? It's just too unfair."
Saki is too gentle. She carries the weight of the crimes committed by the women offenders as if they were her own. I worry that she's nearing her limit.
"Alright, that's enough. You need to get to bed early so you're ready for tomorrow."
"Okay, okay, no need to pull my ear!"
I want to keep working with Saki in the future. But I wonder if this is just my selfish wish.
"From today, I'm officially assigned here as a male probation officer. My name is Yoko Ogawa, and this is Saki Kawamura. We've just arrived. Please verify our assignment papers and IDs."
We exchanged formal greetings with the principal, who was likely the one in charge of this case. She looked quite worn, probably from the stress of the situation.
"Welcome, I'm Nanako Kimura, the principal. I'll introduce you to the student right away. He expressed a desire to continue his normal life, so he's currently working in the gardening committee. Please follow me to the flowerbed."
Wait, what? This doesn't sound right.
The male victims we deal with in these cases are usually emotionally unstable—either scared or aggressive. I've never heard of a victim who's well enough to work like that.
"Excuse me, Principal Kimura, but is the student we're about to meet the victim of the recent case?"
Kimura seemed to understand my confusion. As she walked ahead, she gave a distant look and replied, "Well, he's… unique."
Her tone was heavy with resignation, only adding to my uncertainty.
"Over there, the boy watering the plants is the student you'll be in charge of."
I turned to look in the direction she pointed.
An angel?
His wavy, flaxen hair glistened in the sunlight, and his eyes, filled with tenderness, gazed lovingly at the flowers. His smile radiated a warmth that seemed to purify the dark and ugly emotions buried deep within me.
"Oh, a healing angel…"
Wait, no. What am I thinking? How could I feel this way toward someone I'm supposed to be protecting?
Did anyone hear that slip-up? I hope not. Please, someone tell me no one heard that.
Nervously, I glanced at Saki to gauge her reaction…
"This is fate! My prince, your Saki has come to see you!"
Wait, hold on a second. Crimes committed by duncans are severe. Much harsher than for the average person!
Without a word, I grabbed Saki's shoulders and swiftly drove my knee into her gut.
Saki doubled over in pain but remained silent as I dragged her off to the side, away from the principal and the boy.
"Saki! Get a grip! You're acting insane!" I whispered harshly, trying to keep my voice down so the others wouldn't hear.
She groaned but managed to mutter, "But…he's so beautiful…like a prince from a fairytale. How can I not fall in love?"
"Keep it together! We're here to protect him, not fall head over heels. You know that, right?"
Saki nodded weakly, still clutching her stomach, but her eyes remained dreamy as they followed the boy's every move.
I sighed deeply, trying to calm myself down. This was going to be much harder than I thought.
The boy—our assigned case—was nothing like the victims we'd dealt with before. He seemed…peaceful. Almost serene. But that didn't match the profile of someone who had gone through such trauma. There had to be more to his story.
Principal Kimura, who had been watching us from a distance, approached again.
"As I said before, he's…special," she repeated, her voice carrying a weight that was hard to ignore.
Special? What does that mean? I glanced at the boy again. He was humming softly as he tended to the plants, completely at ease.
"We'll talk more later," the principal said, her tone signaling that there was much more to this case than met the eye.
I was already uneasy. If this boy was truly as calm as he appeared, why were we, two experienced duncans, brought in? There had to be something else—something hidden beneath the surface.
"Saki, pull yourself together. We need to focus."
Saki gave me a weak thumbs-up, still recovering from the knee to the gut.
I didn't know what we were walking into, but one thing was certain—this case was going to be anything but ordinary.
As we walked toward the boy, I steeled myself. Whatever lay ahead, we had a duty to fulfill, and I couldn't let personal feelings—or Saki's romantic fantasies—get in the way.
This was the start of a case that would challenge everything we knew about our work, and possibly even ourselves.