RINGGGGGG!
The bell rang violently, creating a stampede of students stomping out the door. Most students dashed to the cafeteria. Some students went to empty rooms to sit. Not me. No matter where I went, I would be shot down by hostile glares and gossip about me, as if I couldn't see or hear them. That's why I stayed in my homeroom, eating lunch by myself. Except…
I forgot to bring my lunch. Shit. I sighed and put my head down. Maybe sleeping will make me less hungry?
Then, there was a tap on my shoulder. When I looked up, I was greeted by two soft eyes with a brown colour so deep I thought I was drowning in them. This is the new transfer student, right? Karen Kana or something?
"Hi," she said. Her voice was gentle, soothing even. "I'm Karina Kana. Are you hungry? I brought a lot of food today, but I don't think I can finish it all."
I rubbed my eyes. Am I dreaming? Who was this angel sent from the heavens?
"Are you real?" I asked.
Shit. What is wrong with me?
I thought she would be weirded out by my question and leave, but she wasn't. She looked at me, mouth quivering. Was she about to cry?
She started giggling.
"What a silly question. Of course, I'm real."
"O-oh, right. I'm Yuri Yuren. Nice to meet you."
She must've noticed how I was staring at her lunch box since she picked up an egg with her fork and pointed it in my direction.
"Want a bite?" she asked.
Eggs. I hate eggs. The gross, slimy texture puts me off. I didn't want to seem ungrateful though, so I accepted them.
"Yes, please," I answered
"Okay. Say 'ahh'."
What? Is she about to… feed me?
I opened my mouth. "Ahh…"
Karina carefully directed the egg into my mouth. My eyes met hers, and I quickly looked away and started chewing.
"How is it?" she asked.
I hated eggs for as long as I could remember. My mom always scolded me about being a picky eater, but in all honesty, I wasn't. I just hated eggs.
"It's the best I ever had," I responded.
I watched as my classmate's smile grew. She reminded me of a cat playing with a ball of yarn. I couldn't help but stare at her as she started giggling. Then she looked at me. Once again, we met eyes. But this time, I wasn't the one who looked away. She was. I watched as her cheeks flushed deep red, and that was when I knew.
I was in love.
"Thank you," she mumbled.
The best part was, I wasn't even lying. Usually, I hated eggs. But this time was different. This time, the taste was divine. It was delicious. It was…
Lovely
***
Tap.
I opened my eyes to the buzzing office feeling groggy. I haven't been getting enough sleep at home lately. I looked up to identify the person who tapped me on the shoulder. A twisted smile beamed down on me. A demon.
"Yuri. Maybe if your brainless ass could stay awake, the Captain would've given you that promotion."
"What do you want, Riri?" I asked. "And how did you know about that?"
Henry Harpy is another sergeant at the 77th precinct. He had short brown hair, a scruffy beard, and a bulky build, making him look like a mobster. We used to be partners back when we were street cops. Both of us were too intimidating to be put with the other officers, so the higher-ups decided to force us into a team. But that didn't mean we liked each other.
"Everyone fuckin' knows," Henry answered. "Someone overheard you and the Cap in the office. Also, stop fucking calling me that."
"Can't stop won't stop. What do you want?"
Henry frowned.
"The Captain wants you in the briefing room, so get the fuck off your ass and join the rest of us."
"Maybe if your mouth wasn't so foul people would actually like you."
"That's rich, coming from you. Name one detective that you talk to here. Other than your loud-ass sidekick."
I started thinking. Was there anyone I'd actually talk to in the office? Other than Tibby, the only person that came to my mind was Erin, but she was our receptionist, not a detective. I didn't want to let Henry win though, so I tried my best to look smug before replying to him.
"It would only be Tibby, but since you're always bothering me I guess I'll need to count you too," I answered. "You must be in love with me or something."
He paused for a moment. Then, he walked away, sticking out his middle finger at me boldly.
"Just hurry the fuck up, Yuri."
***
All the detectives were gathered in the main briefing room. It kind of reminded me of my classroom in high school. The rows of tables were accompanied by an abundance of plastic chairs, each holding a detective or officer who was called in. It was similar to the briefing room in Brooklyn Nine-Nine.
"We've got a strange case today, detectives."
Captain Yuren spoke loudly, but clearly. He had an aura of leadership around him.
Beside him was a screenshot of a CCTV recording showing a masked figure. I couldn't quite make out the photo since it was so zoomed in. The Captain gestured to the screenshot before continuing.
"We have a serial robber on our hands. This man here has been robbing various restaurants at gunpoint. He was last seen 15 hours ago at a local café called Le Petite Haricot.
Wait. Why does that name sound familiar?
"Oh no," I muttered under my breath. My dad somehow managed to hear me and called me out.
"Detective Yuren, is something the matter?" he asked. I could feel the gazes of the other detectives and officers hovering over me like I was an art piece in an exhibit.
"N-nothing's the matter," I answered. "I was just clearing my throat."
"I see…"
I realized why the name was so familiar. I sat in that café last week with Renee.
The Captain took out a notepad from his pocket and began listing off the features of the perpetrator.
"Our suspect is male, estimated to be around 180 centimetres in height. We think he is in his early twenties, and he was last seen wearing a black hoodie, brown cargo pants, and grey running shoes. We have some footage to show as well."
The lights dimmed as the projector rolled, showing us a video of the latest robbery in low quality. We really got to up the security camera game. Not much security going on if we can see anything. There was some audio.
"Put all the money in this bag. If I see somebody grab their electronic device, I will shoot them. Consider yourselves warned."
The man spoke with perfect English in a formal and professional tone.
The recording ended and the Captain answered some questions from the officers. The times of the attacks were inconsistent, but they were mostly in the evening. Nothing was taken besides cash, and no civilians were killed or injured.
Yet.
The Captain gave us each a possible profile of the robber. A university or college student who is likely overwhelmed by student debt. The heights and the descriptions would match. But I knew there was more. I raised my hand and waited for the Captain to call on me.
"Yes, Detective Yuren?"
The room went silent when the Captain called my name. There wasn't even muttering or whispers to act as a background noise. Brings back some terrible memories…
"I have something to add," I began to explain. "It is likely that the perp dealt with drugs before starting to rob. College campuses are at an all-time high for substance abuse. Many students buy drugs from the black market and sell them on campuses for a bit of extra cash. The perp likely got his gun through connections in the black market."
As I finished my final statement I felt the stress leaving my body. I felt eyeballs weighing down on me like I was on a scale.
"How does this info help us?" a voice I didn't recognize asked behind me. I looked back and saw a tall, burly officer who was leaning back on his seat.
"Well, we know that the perp is a student, who isn't a robber by trade, so he probably doesn't want to go to areas he isn't familiar with. The next spot would probably be somewhere around downtown Toronto again. Specifically near the schools. We also should expect him to strike in the evening since that's when most students and customers go home."
There was a brief moment of silence. Then, someone started clapping. Captain Yuren. I watched as my dad started laughing and clapping for my explanation.
"Good stuff, Detective Yuren. I'm sure this information will be vital to us in catching the perpetrator. Dismissed!"
I waited until everybody walked out of the briefing room. I was technically off shift early today, so I could have left, but since I have nothing to do in the afternoons, I took a nap instead. Sleeping at work is so much easier than sleeping at home. I never dreamt while I napped, therefore no nightmares.
And no nightmares meant no more guilt.
***
When I woke up it was already 6:02 PM. The precinct was quiet, and the only person that I knew was still there was my dad. I was about to leave, so I wanted to let him know first. I walked to the front of his office and knocked on the wooden door.
Knock knock.
"Come in," he said.
I walked into his office. He was dressed in a finely tailored tuxedo. The lining appeared to have been silk, which must've cost a fortune.
"What's with the tux?" I asked.
"I'm going to an opera today with your mother. Would you like to join us?"
"Hard pass, but thanks. I just came in to let you know I'll be leaving."
"Alright, Detective. See you tomorrow."
"You too."
I turned around and started walking out of his office, but the Captain called out to me.
"Wait," He began, with a certain sternness in his voice. I was a little scared of what he was going to tell me. Was I grounded again? I swear it wasn't my fault!
"Get some sleep tonight. I know it's been hard, but you need to sleep. Please."
I looked at him in the eye. I didn't think he cared much. I didn't think he'd noticed. But something about knowing that my own father cares about me getting enough sleep makes me sorta… happy. I smiled at him to the best of my ability.
"Okay," I replied. "I'll do my best, dad."
"Thank you, son."
I walked out of his office. I felt like walking today, so I took the stairs and went straight outside from the exit. I didn't drive my car to work today, so I decided to take a long trek back home. I let the noise and chaos of the crowd absorb me. I was finally feeling peaceful. I walked to the park and sat down on a bench, breathing in the fresh air.
Unfortunately, my phone rang. It was an unknown number, but I picked it up anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hi Yuri~!" Renee answered playfully.
I was dumbfounded. I had so many questions. How did she get my number? Or better yet, why was she calling me?
"Oh, uh, hi Renee. Why did you call me?"
"I was wondering if you were free for another date?" she asked me. I was free, but I didn't want to go.
"Nope."
"Aw, man. You're gonna make Renee cry!" She wailed into the phone.
"Stop speaking in the third person," I said. "Don't you have a boyfriend? Go with him instead."
"It's just a playdate!" she exclaimed. "Also, look behind you!"
I turned around and saw Renee in her onyx-black suit that highlighted her frame way better than it had any right to. She waved at me before coming up to me. I knew I wasn't going to change her mind, so I let her take me to a place of her choosing.
I found myself with an affogato at a café called The Velvet Brew. The place was quite nice actually, the feeling of it was very cozy and warm. The only problem with it was the vixen sitting across from me.
"Have you kept in touch with anyone from high school?"
Why did she love talking about me so much?
"Uh, I kept in touch with Terry Green, but that's only because we both happened to enlist in the army."
"Really?" Renee looked surprised. "That's the big guy, right? The one who was on the baseball team?"
"Yeah, that's him."
"Wow. He was such a nice guy. What happened to him?"
"He's actually an assistant chef in a restaurant in Barrie. I heard they have a Michelin Star ."
"Wow… Can you take me sometime?" Renee made a cute pleading face that reminded me of a kitten. I noticed that she had lip gloss on, making her lips plump and - wait, no! Focus on something else, Yuri! I used all my willpower to focus on the conversation.
"N-no! Ask your boyfriend to take you!" I denied.
"Okay, okay! But, speaking of boyfriends…"
Shit. The question was a trap. Hook, line…
"Are you still single?"
Sinker. I should've just gone home. Why did I go to the park? Why Yuri, why?!
"Of course I am."
"But you've got a good face and a nice build! If we fixed up your hair your door would be flooded with girls!"
"Can't change my personality though," I said. "Plus, being single is more financially beneficial for living in the big city! It cuts a lot of costs! And, you don't get bossed around at home, which helps your mental health!"
Renee immediately started laughing. I waited for her to finish. As she wiped her tears, she asked another question.
"Do you at least have someone in mind?"
A face popped up in my head, but I ignored it.
"No, why?" I answered. I knew where this conversation was going.
Renee began to talk. "Well, Karin-"
"Stop right there," I interjected.
Renee's eyes widened as her smile turned into a frown.
"I don't want anything to do with Karina," I scowled. I paused before continuing so Renee knew that I was serious. "Please stop mentioning her to me. I've already moved on."
"But-" Renee started.
"No buts," I interrupted again. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
I stood up and left my chair. I walked into the restroom to get some air. I didn't want things to get heated, but I also needed Renee to stop pushing things. I did love Karina in the past, sure. And I want to know what she's up to currently, sure. But that night I promised myself something. I promised that no matter what, I wouldn't go back to her, because I knew that going back to the beginning wouldn't change the story's ending.
After I rinsed my face with water, I heard a scream, followed by a deafeningly loud Bang!
What the hell is happening out there?
I crept towards the restroom door and peeked outside. There was a man with a gun. I recognized his clothing: A black hoodie, brown cargo pants, grey sneakers and a black ski mask. He was holding something; rather, someone. Renee.
"Put all the money in a bag, or this lady here will get shot!" He yelled, pointing a gun at her head.
From my viewpoint, I could see the terrified look in Renee's eyes. I'd be scared too if there was a gun to my face. I pulled my gun out of the holster and went to confront him.
"Toronto Police Department!" I yelled, keeping my gun pointed at the robber. "Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air!"
"D-don't shoot!" He stuttered. "I'll kill her if you shoot!
His eyes were bloodshot red, and his pupils were dilated. He was high. Dammit.
"Let the woman go and put your hands in the air!" I ordered, keeping his in the sights of my pistol. I slowly tread closer to him.
"Don't come any closer!" the robber roared as he gripped Renee harder. I took a quick glance at her. I could tell she was about to cry. "I'm serious! I'll kill her!"
"Yuri, I—" Renee's voice cracked. Her eyes darted between me and the gun, pleading without words.
Renee was visibly shaken. Who wouldn't be? I could tell what she was thinking by the way she looked at me. I'm scared. Please save me.
I controlled my breathing to clear my mind. I wanted to end this confrontation without any casualties, but I was starting to lose hope in that plan. An innocent civilian—no, my friend's life was on the line, so I needed to make the best decision I could.
The distance between me and the robber and Renee was around 5 metres. The space between the robber's head and Renee's head was almost 8 centimetres.
I've hit harder shots in Cambodia.
I lined up the iron sights of my P30.
I've used this weapon ever since I got it in the military. I could tell you everything about it. Being a good marksman isn't about how good your aim is. It's the other way around. Your aim depends on how good of a marksman you are; to be a good marksman, you need to know your weapon. It all comes with practice. I've fired this gun so many times I could clean it blindfolded, but no amount of practice erases the weight of pulling the trigger. Cambodia taught me that much. Some nights, the faces still come back—just flashes, nothing I can focus on. But they're there.
Time slowed down as I pressed the trigger. My fingers went past the first layer of resistance, then the last. It was through.
Bang!
***
His body fell onto the muddy, Cambodian soil. He was dead. I was ordered to shoot him. I had to follow orders. The begging that the man was doing was engraved in my mind.
It wasn't my fault… right?