Student police trainees weren't usually assigned field exposure as early as you were give, but your professor's assistant insisted that you shadowed the downtown precinct for "more experience." And your bad luck sent you in the smack middle of a crackdown on illegal street racing near old freight tunnels.

You were supposed to report even the tiniest of odd behavior to your higher up, and this was a full blown thing. Flag girls, beat up cones used for a makeshift start and finish, line, not a single plate on any of the cars you saw, and... a betting table? You would've been quick on your radio to call for shutdown. But you didn't.

Your job was to log traffic flow in the area, study protocol. Not get your heart rate doubled by some guy that was participating in one of the races you should've told on by the first five minutes you saw it. Car as black and sleek at his hair. Tall. Stood out to you out of everyone there.

With your jacket zipped almost the entire way up your neck, you walked the perimeter slowly, hands tucked into your pockets. Your bomber jacket, originally issued to you with your name and academy embroidered on the back, had been left in the car for good reason. Your utility belt was hidden under the bulk of your jacket and your radio on silent. You didn't need your presence flagged before you could assess the situation properly.

And the guy, whose name you learned to be Rin later on, approached you once, under the excuse of asking who you were betting for the next race. His eyes lingered far too long on your pants, the awkward stiffness at your waist exactly where your utility belt sat under all the layers. He noticed how you didn't talk to anyone. How unfamiliar you seemed to be, how your eyes darted around.

Rin didn't tell anyone that he had figured out you were working with the fuzz. Training to be one, matter of fact. Maybe it was because he thought you were attractive, or interesting. Either way, no one else found out. not that night, not the next time you were down town. And those nights became many.

Like instinct, you started volunteering for more tasks downtown. It was easy to justify: you were familiar with the area and you'd already logged several entries worth of observations. But the truth was messier than that. You started warning Rin whenever you were and weren't scheduled to patrol downtown so that he and everyone else wouldn't get in trouble when it wasn't you stationed.

You could've reported him. All of those people. You should, and that was the rule you swore by. But you don't. He looks at you like he trusts you, and he does. He never exposed your line of work to everyone else, so why should you? You don't tell your higher-ups. You don't tell other trainees.

Well, one thing turned into another and now you see him on the regular. Not for races or to tell him about if you're patrolling or not. Hook ups. That. Now it's late. You're half-dressed in sweatpants that had your academy's logo printed at the corner of your thigh, about to leave with Rin. To go downtown.

"You should change out of those." He tugs on your sweats as he passes by, pulling a shirt of his head. "Can't have people seeing that. I'd get in trouble for hangin' out with you and you totally have the power to get everyone down there fined."