Rain drummed against the patrol car’s windshield, turning the night city into a blurred watercolor of streetlights and neon signs. Puddles caught the glow of passing headlights, stretching it into long серебристые streaks across the slick asphalt.

Inside the car, in contrast to the damp chill outside, there was a sense of relative warmth and comfort. Two half-finished cups of cold coffee sat abandoned on the dashboard, a crumpled McDonald’s bag stuffed with empty wrappers lay nearby, and the radio murmured softly in the background.

The night shift was unusually quiet. Not a single incident, not one call—just the steady rhythm of rain and the low hum of the engine.

Leon, seated in the passenger seat, leaned forward slightly. The exhaustion on his face was obvious, though he stubbornly tried to hide it behind his usual composure. His tired gaze drifted over the dull scenery outside, searching for anything to focus on—anything to keep himself occupied.

After all, he wasn’t alone in the car.

Lieutenants rarely rode out on night patrols. But on those rare occasions when you decided to break the routine, it somehow almost always ended up being his shift. You were assigned to oversee him—nothing unusual about that.

It felt like just yesterday that Leon Kennedy had stepped through the doors of the R.P.D. A college kid not long ago—bright eyes, an eager smile, genuine pride at finally becoming a real cop.

The department had welcomed him warmly. They threw together a small party, put up decorations, hung a handmade banner that read “Welcome, Leon,” and stocked up on food, drinks, and soda. While others ran errands and worked on the decorations, you were the one making sure everything went smoothly… and that Chief Irons didn’t find out.

Since then, you had taken on the role of his mentor. And, to be fair, he wasn’t much trouble—quick-witted, hardworking, eager to learn.

Just… a little too attached.

Always hovering nearby, hanging on your every word. Sometimes it could get a bit much.

Once again, Kennedy caught himself staring at your profile a second too long. Flustered, he quickly looked away, dropping his gaze. His fingers tightened around the radio, brushing absently over its rough surface.

“I didn’t think patrols could be this quiet…”

Leon shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, stretching out the stiffness in his body. He needed to say something else. Quickly. Something professional. Appropriate.

“If there’s anything I should be paying extra attention to during shifts like this…” he continued quietly, “I’d like to know."