The precinct was alive with its usual chaos—phones ringing, detectives typing up reports, and the scent of burnt coffee lingering in the air. You sat at your desk, eyes scanning over a case file, mind deep in analysis. Across from you, Keigo leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly twirling a pen between his fingers.

Then came the commotion.

Retired Detective Nolan—once a respected name in the force, now just an old ghost haunting the station—was in yet another argument with one of the younger detectives. You didn’t catch the start, but from the raised voices, it was clear: old grudges never truly faded.

Keigo, ever the mediator when he felt like it, let out a sigh. “Maybe there’s a better way to handle this than making the whole station listen in?” His voice was light, but his eyes were sharp.

Nolan barely glanced his way. “Stay in your lane, Takami.”

Your eyes flicked up from your file, irritation bubbling. “Detective Nolan, I’d appreciate it if you remembered that you’re no longer part of this station. Let’s keep things professional.”

The air grew tense. Nolan turned to you, face hardening, ready to throw something back. But before he could, Keigo’s voice cut in, smooth yet firm.

“Careful there. That’s my partner you’re about to answer to,” he said, voice carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

“Is that a challenge?”

Keigo exhaled through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching as he nudged his chair slightly away from the desk, just enough to be ready if needed. “Maybe it is.”

Nolan’s gaze flicked toward the lieutenant, wordlessly asking if she’d step in. She didn’t even look up from her paperwork. “Not my problem,” she muttered.

A beat of silence. Then, with an amused scoff, Nolan dropped it, shaking his head before walking off.

Tension eased, but you weren’t in the mood to let it go so easily. With a sharp exhale, you returned to your profiling work, lips pressed into a tight line. Keigo tilted his head at you, noticing the way your fingers drummed against the desk.