The rain made my leg ache pronouncedly, a throbbing pain that radiated out from my knee. Trying to stand resulted in my leg giving out, sending me nearly sprawling to the floor. I would have to wear my sturdier brace, the one made of thick metal strips that dug sharply into the softer flesh of my thigh and bruised at the bony spots of my joints. The one that made me limp slightly and rely on a cane Uncle had an artisan metal worker craft for me. 

Arriving at the office was tiring. I had arrived during the warm season so it had been a few months since my leg had been in such a state and I had forgotten how painful it can sometimes be to even move. The rainy season had just begun, and I would be stuck with this never-ending ache as long as it lasted. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Senior Inspector Lyall asked, eyes tracing the outline of my brace. His left brow quirked up in question. “Did you fall or something?” 

“Technically yes,” I replied, sitting down at my desk. My leg could not bend so I had to push my chair out further than I liked, back hunching forward to prop my arms on my desk. 

“Makes sense that you would do something idiotic and get injured,” he said. I closed my eyes, pushing down the fury threatening to bubble up in my chest. “Did you cry like a little girl?” 

“I’ll have you know, Inspector Lyall, that I am far more resilient than you give me credit for,” I replied. “The fact that you let prejudices cloud your judgment shows how little skill you truly have as an investigator. Perhaps if you used your pea-sized brain instead of sitting around getting completely plastered, you’d have the sense to hold your tongue.” 

“Did I touch a nerve?” The satisfaction in his eyes was sickening. He grinned at my response, entirely happy with himself. 

“It’s no wonder you can’t keep a partner,” I said. “You pretend not to want one, but in reality, you know that you are such a despicable human being that no one would want to work with you. I bet your last partner—” 

He slammed his hand on the table as he rose from his seat, fire raging in his eyes. Striding up to me, he leaned down until our faces were centimeters apart. “It’s a funny thing for you to act all self-righteous,” he said. “There must be a reason you left the royal guard and were exiled out of the capital, Sub-captain von Foxx. Or did you run away?” 

When I said nothing in response, he walked away with his head held high in victory. 

“Told you not to respond to his teasing,” Reeve said. “Perhaps try not to be an asshole back.” 

“You’re taking his side?” I asked. 

“I don’t know you,” he replied. “And he has his reasons. Perhaps you should try and talk to him about it. You know, get to know him a little bit instead of just waltzing around all ignorant? It’s been two months and yet you still fight like cats and dogs. Show some maturity, Inspector von Foxx.” 

~*~ 

Lt. Seong’s favourite bar was a small place hidden in the back alleys of New Solaris’ slums. Her father would go there with the other fishermen after big catches and she had grown to love it, forcing us all to indulge in her version of that custom. After a big case or big event, she would drag everyone to the bar, get drunk as a skunk, and then pass out at the table. 

There was something nice about the atmosphere, though, a liveliness that I did not get to surround myself with normally. The chatter of drunkards and the occasional outburst of song were somehow comforting in a world that felt so cold most of the time. We sat down at our usual table in the far corner of the bar. Glasses were set out, and bottles of beer and hard liquor were placed on the table. Lt. Seong popped the cap off one with the edge of the table, pouring a generous amount into her glass and downing it. 

“Congrats to us on another day of success,” she said, raising her empty glass high in the air. “Long live Her Royal Majesty!” 

She grabbed her opened beer bottle, deciding to drink straight from it in large gulps. The others shouted in protest and I tried to pull the bottle out of her hands. She pulled back, causing some of the alcohol to splash up onto her face. 

“Sit down, Fishbait,” Vinson said. She groaned at the address, plopping back down in her seat, and quietly sipped her beer. 

Vinson wasn’t one to drink, only being dragged along by Lt. Seong. They had some weird friendship between them that made him give in to her whims. She would chug beer and liquor until she was red in the face and waxing poetic about the ice-king prosecutor who doesn’t like her. The others would indulge her, drinking far less while Vinson watched on in quiet disappointment. 

I sat back down as well, staring into the liquid in my glass. One of the others must have filled it for me. I was a lightweight. The first time I was invited to tag along, I drank two glasses and then face-planted into the table. Vinson had to carry me back to my apartment on the royal grounds. It was so embarrassing that I had decided to shy away from alcohol as well. I wasn’t like Lt. Seong. I wouldn’t make a fool of myself before everyone. 

Vinson said nothing, not even touching any of the alcohol. No one bothered to put out a glass for him, let alone fill one. The low light of the bar cast deep shadows on his face that made him look almost skeletal. He sat ramrod straight, posture always so very perfect, not a single hair out of place on his head. He was obviously so out of place every time we came here. 

“Why do you come if you hate it?” I asked. His face had become scrunched after Lt. Seong had leaned against him and screamed into his ear. 

“I don’t hate it,” he replied. Lt. Seong’s head dropped onto his shoulder and he pushed her off. “Fishbait, if you throw up on me tonight, I’ll throw you off the docks to be eaten.” 

“Stop calling me that,” she said. “I don’t even know what your nickname was in the Navy. You can’t call me that without telling me yours.” 

“It was stupid,” he stated, jaw clenching. 

“Tell us,” she begged, a shrill whine that made everyone yell for her to shut up. 

“If it makes you feel better, I was called ‘the Giant’ in the academy,” I said. 

Vinson let out a sigh, taking my untouched glass from the table and downing a swig from it. Lt. Seong’s eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Junior,” he stated. “They called me Junior.” 

Lt. Seong laughed until she faceplanted into the table, dead drunk. 

~*~ 

“Your plan is probably the most reckless thing I have ever heard,” Captain Doyle stated. She was fiddling with a fountain pen sitting in its stand on her desk. “You’re not doing something this idiotic unless Wolf is coming with you. Using yourself as bait is plain stupid.” 

“It’s better than endangering civilians,” I replied. “Senior Inspector Lyall isn’t going to come. He would rather not associate with me.” 

“He’ll warm up to you,” she said. “Just give it time. He won’t let you go by yourself on a suicide mission.” 

“And what makes you so sure?” I asked. “All anyone has said is to endure his behaviour.” 

“I used to be his partner, Will,” she said. “He’s always been prickly and difficult, but he is a damn good detective. It takes him a while to warm up, but then he will be loyal to you. It’s just been…especially rough for him lately.” 

She let out a sigh, face lined with exhaustion. “He’s had several unfortunate situations with previous partners. Disputes, career-ending injuries, and the like. The latest was the worst. His last partner was killed in the line of duty,” she stated. “He’s still grieving and not ready to be working with someone again, but I couldn’t let him continue to work solo. Just give him time. If anyone can understand, it would be you.” 

“What?” It was an involuntary response from my lips. Why had no one said anything? Why hadn’t he said anything? 

“They were trying to catch a bigwig hitman with the organized crime unit,” she said, face scrunched with hurt. Suddenly, the grief that had hidden itself away was clear as day on her face. “The Kloska Family has bled into the city from across the river and we were trying to stop them from dominating the slums. Inspector Johannes was newer, a young and spry recruit fresh from the academy. He had just gotten his promotion and was so starry-eyed to be working with Wolf. The Lockrowe Butcher case is what made him join.” 

Her gaze was far away, a soft smile on her lips that wavered and melted into a frown. “He got too close to the suspect while tailing him and was killed,” she finally said. 

My limbs went numb, helplessness bleeding out from my chest alongside the sharp phantom ache in my leg. I tried to push away the flashes of a moment I wanted to forget, a photograph burned into my brain. It felt like I was standing before the coffin again, staring despondently at the face of a man I could not save, the rest of the world swallowed up by the strength of my grief. 

Did Senior Inspector Lyall have to stand before his partner’s coffin? Did he carry it to the cemetery, and place it in the ground? Was he screamed at by the man’s family? Was he told he was weak, told that he should’ve been the one to die instead? Was he told he was a blight on the world, on the department? 

I didn’t even get to carry the coffin, my leg bundled up in a cast and my weight barely held up by crutches. Would it have been better or worse if I had been able to? 

I said nothing in response for a few moments, staring down at my hands. “Let me do my plan,” I said once I could move past the tightness in my throat. “I will ask Senior Inspector Lyall to come, but if he doesn’t, I am still going to do it.” 

“You’re both so damn stubborn,” she rolled her reddened eyes and a tenseness melted away from her shoulders. “Fine. Just don’t die, alright? I don’t want to have to hire another new inspector so soon.” 

~*~ 

The two-mile run was the one test I enjoyed in the academy since it was the area where I got the chance to shine. Out of all the cadets, I was the fastest, always finishing first and watching my disgruntled and panting classmates glare at me as each of them got done. 

There was nothing else I was highly skilled at. My combat skills were decent but not stellar. In other athletic tests, I finished in the middle. I was a somewhat decent shot and not the top student academically in the academy. All I could do was run. 

It had its uses when chasing down suspects and led to my wonderful reputation of magically catching up to perpetrators and tackling them to the ground. It was what I was known for. The one thing that made me worthwhile to the royal guard. 

“Sometimes I wish I could run as fast and far as you,” Vinson said one day. He was sitting on one of the wooden benches in the locker room, elbows propped on his thighs. 

“If you could, then I’d have nothing I’m better than you at,” I replied, smacking his shoulder as I walked over to open my locker. “Don’t exile me to the world of living in your shadow.” 

“I’d run away,” he said. I turned to him. His head was lowered, sweat-slicked hair covering his face so that I couldn’t see his expression. 

“What…what brought this on, Vince?” I sat down next to him on the bench. I did it slowly, as if I was approaching a frightened animal. “You’re about to be promoted. Lori’s been hinting at stepping down for weeks now. I thought you wanted—” 

“My father wants it,” he said, clenching his hands into fists. “All of this, all that I have done, has been for the sake of his glory. I have lived my entire life pleasing him.” 

“And what do you want?” I asked. “Do you want to be captain?” 

He laughed at that, hunching his shoulders up to his ears. “I never wanted any of this,” he whispered it as if the words were some horrible secret. “I thought I could make him happy for a while, indulge him by doing what he wants. I didn’t expect it to spiral so out of control. I never wanted to be a guard.” 

“Then leave,” I said. “Run far away. I wouldn’t blame you for doing so. Anyone that matters wouldn’t.” 

“I—” 

“I could have spent my life sitting pretty in my family estate doing nothing but being pampered,” I stated. “It is what my uncle wanted of me. Instead, I decided to do as I pleased and have found my life to be much more rewarding. Even if it meant being cut off.” 

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Vince, there is no point in living your life for someone else,” I said. “In the end, you will only find unhappiness. Living for yourself will give you fulfillment that pretending to be someone else cannot.” 

He looked up at me finally, giving a weak smile that fit oddly onto his face. He wasn’t a man who smiled, nor was he one to bear his soul so openly to someone else. Through his tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes, I was met with someone far more human than I expected. 

He was stressed and pressed down by the pressure of responsibility and expectation. In a way, we were both nothing special. My averageness and humanity just bled out more obviously than his own.