"Now, officer, what would you say--"
The reporter's words were drowned out by a sudden shout. A man had drawn a gun, but before anyone could even scream, it was shot from his hands. The man's own scream was muffled by the twenty-some policemen who piled at him all at once, those on bottom kicking.
The reporter got her breath back. "Who shot that?"
The reply was a know-it-all expression, as though she'd just asked for the color of the sky. Hands were waved in a direction, with a name attached, "Terazuma."
There was no one in the area with a gun drawn. The seated young man held nothing but an unlit cigarette in his hands, although an imaginative if somewhat delusional person could note the revolver in his vest and guess he had quickly drawn and replaced it.
Or they could imagine it was fairies, or possibly UFOs.
Nonetheless, the journalist made her way to the desk. From the talk, it seemed this was the man.
"Whaddaya doing, Terazuma?! Aiming for the gun--"
"He's showing off, that's it."
"--aim for the hand!"
"Aim for the head."
"What are you telling him?! You're going to hell!"
"Um, are you Terazuma?"
The man raised his eyebrows at her. He wore the bored and oddly aloof expression you only got on the streets, the expression of knowing that you're better than all your betters. "Yeah?"
"That was amazing marksmanship there."
He shrugged.
"May I ask why you became a policeman?"
He puckered his lips. "If your best skill is shooting, not that many things you can do. And this side has health insurance."
"You're saying if they had dental you'd be a thug, Terazuma?!"
"He should join the mob."
"What are you telling him?! You're going to hell!"
Another cop ruffled his hair. "This rookie don't know what he's talking about."
"What rookie?" Terazuma said. "I've been here years."
"Not as many as me."
"Well, a' course. You're the senior officer!"
"And don't you forget it!"
Terazuma just picked up his mug of coffee, sliding it over and inbetween several misplaced arms on the way to his mouth. The policemen were gesturing broadly on any number of topics, riled from the successful solution to a tough case. Amid them, Terazuma acted like a tired parent buffeted by countless rambunctious children.
"Terazuma ain't smoking!"
"That's a first! Get a camera, it's the apocalypse!"
"Don't tell me you've quit."
"Worried 'bout your health?"
"He's worried about his pretty-boy looks." Another hair-tousling.
"You're kidding. Terazuma, you sell out!"
"It's just for today," Terazuma said, ignoring the friendly arm around his neck.
The reporter again attempted to steer the conversation. "Could you tell me more about--" But by then, Terazuma was already finishing up his coffee and pulling on his neat jacket and cap.

There was one thing that could upset Terazuma--well, many things, especially lack of cigarettes--but one of those things was his new partner. A rookie by the very definition of the word, he held the optimism of that person who would imagine Terazuma had drawn and aimed and shot and put his gun away all in that moment--nevermind that he had--and who also believed the fairies drove UFOs. If asked why he had become a cop, he'd list "helping others" and "the good of society" and other crap.
In Terazuma's opinion, people like this wound up two ways: dead, or wishing they were.
"So, you ready to go? What's up for tonight?"
Terazuma fixed a bleary-eyed look upon the hapless man. Bleary-eyed looks were either a prerequisite to working for the government, or something you got handed the first day, like a badge. The rookie seemed to have misplaced his, and would no doubt be fined for this later.
"Same as every other day." Unfortunately, his partner had taken the passenger seat. If he hadn't, Terazuma would have had an excuse to keep him behind, in the car, where he couldn't screw up. Terazuma wound up driving instead; as he changed gears he found himself patting down his jacket, again finding the full cigarette pack in his pocket.
'Night' he'd said, but the street lights had not yet come on. Maybe getting the driver's seat was a good thing--it was something to preoccupy himself besides his partner's mindless blathering and the departing scenery. He prayed for an easy night.
He shouldn't have. To do so was to catch the eye of the gods, who thought that he had long ago learned his lesson. Barely nodding a multifarious head in his direction, they flipped a tack into his path like a penny from a tower. He immediately realized his mistake--right, he had no luck. He could only rely on himself and his skill. This was the lesson the gods taught Terazuma many times.
Shame to drag the kid into it, he thought.
This was minutes before the call came, as twilight lowered itself carefully onto the city like a duck squatting on a nest. Nothing ever seemed to happen at twilight. Twilight was calm, comforting. It happened in the day, was reported in the night, and twilight allowed the body time to cool.
As Terazuma turned off the engine and pulled out the keys, he could already hear his partner ahead of the car, retching on the tires.
He definitely should have gotten the passenger seat.
He checked that the emergency brake was pulled, took out his gun and then got out of the car. No sense in hurrying for a corpse--it was the living you had to worry about.
His partner was now turned away, shaking, mumbling, trying to get his feet under himself. Terazuma would have felt sorry for him, but frankly felt more sympathy for the corpse. It was...
Terazuma reached into his breast pocket, flipped a cigarette out, juggled it between his fingers, put it to his mouth, sparked a light. And paused. And lowered his hand, caching the cig behind his ear, unlit, with a sigh.
His partner was still looking for some sympathy, and Terazuma told him to get off his ass and do some work. That was the best medicine for all ailments. Anyway, Terazuma was bound to get stuck with the worst of it, what with his idiot partner falling to pieces. He stepped forward without hesitation into the den of the long night.

"That's hard, real tough."
"Yeah, people nowadays, what can you do?"
"Still," The officer looked up from the reports he was working very hard to avoid, "that's real tough, for a rookie and all that."
"And with Terazuma!"
"Oy, Terazuma..."
"What?" said Terazuma, annoyed.
They acted like they'd noticed him only now. "I bet you didn't even say a word to the kid!"
"Sure I did."
"'Stop cryin', you pansy?'"
"Or was it nelly?"
"Softie?"
"Terazuma's more of an 'idiot' sort of guy."
Terazuma wrinkled his nose. "Not my fault the idiot--"
"Toldja."
"--came in here with painted glasses on."
The normally gruff group of hardened cops hesitated.
"...still."
Terazuma threw up his hands and pulled on his jacket. His normal jacket, not his buttoned-down policeman's uniform. So the kid was traumatized. Life was traumatizing. You got used to it--like being hit in the head with a hammer repeatedly. In time, everything was normal.
Terazuma juggled a cigarette between two fingers all the way there, but carefully put it away before entering the park. He was almost immediately plowed into at waist-and-under height. "--Ouf!"
It was surgically attached, now. "Wanna let me walk, kid?"
"Uncle Hajime!"
He bent down to her, but was interrupted by The Mother.
"Oh no, you're not kissing my daughter with cancer breath. Say 'ah.'"
Terazuma dutifully huffed at her, all the while rolling his eyes. "I haven't smoked in a whole day."
"You still smell like it." She wrinkled her nose as Terazuma had before. "And donuts."
"You know, that joke gets funnier every time, sis." He hefted the girl, her arms entwining into a new Gordian knot around his neck.
"How's work?"
"Same old, same old."
"You always say that."
"Uncle Hajime? Unkie!"
"Yeah?"
"Can I be a policeman when I grow up?" Such innocent eyes.
"...no."
"Why not?"
He paused, the big black eyes staring up at him.
"You'll be something even better." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Promise."