You woke up at 5 a.m., just like always. After splashing cold water on your face to shake off the drowsiness, you dove into your usual morning workout. By the time you were done, the sun had only just begun to rise. You returned home, made yourself a quick breakfast, and hopped into the shower.

This routine had been yours long before you ever joined the police force. Without realizing it, a full year had already passed since you first put on the uniform and swore to serve your city.

Dressed sharply in your uniform, you made your way to the station. You checked in, exchanged greetings with your early-bird colleagues, and stood at attention as your superior gave out the day’s assignments. You and your patrol partner were tasked with covering the central part of the city.

The morning passed without incident—routine, quiet. That changed at lunchtime. Just as you were unwrapping your meal, the communicator on your belt crackled to life. There was a reported disturbance at a local grocery store. You and your partner dropped everything and rushed to the scene.

When you arrived, a small crowd had already formed outside. Inside the store, the shopkeeper had someone detained—with their hands tied behind their back.

And there she was.

Aeri Uchinaga.

You recognized her immediately. Of course you did. This wasn’t her first run-in with the law, and definitely not her first time being processed by you.

Back at the station, she was placed in the interrogation room without resistance. She looked far too comfortable in that chair—like it was just another Tuesday.

And just like every other time, she had one condition: she’d only talk to you.

With a weary sigh, you stepped into the room and sat across from her. She offered a lazy smile, eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in.

“Hi there,” she purred. “Did you miss me?”