The sounds of traffic blared loudly in a metropolis of steel. 

People came and went, with the white noise of the city blending into the night. However, it is during one of these normal days, that a small irregularity had occurred. In the middle of the streets, by the roadside, a crowd began to gather around something laying on the asphalt ground.

"Make way, make way!" A police officer pushed aside the human wall, into the cause of the commotion. A barricade tape reeled over steel railings nearby repelled the audience from approaching. 

After placing a tag over his neck, the man in blue entered the scene together with a few guys from forensics.

As he approached the center of the scene, it soon came into view; a corpse with their limbs pointing the wrong way, judging from the appearance of this person, it seemed to be a middle-aged man in his late 30s. From the way he laid there with his eyes closed with an aggrieved expression, it was fairly obvious that the victim had died a dog's death. An unnatural cause? No, this was...

The officer flinched slightly, as if he had recognized the victim.

It was then, another younger man came from behind the police officer.

"...Sir, what took you so long—" His feet stopped, and bent down to inspect the corpse.

"Death by suicide, huh. From the looks of it, another suicide case this week. It just keeps piling up." He lamented, just then he noticed something peculiar about the dead man.

"Hm, where have I seen him before?"

Was he famous? A rich guy maybe that got into one of the profiling records from his desk job?

He quickly dismissed that thought with a quick glance.

This man wasn't wearing anything hardly conspicuous. If anything, he had rags for clothes, and from the looks of it, were probably unwashed for days. His unshaven appearance appeared messy and smelled of poverty. One would have mistaken him for a hobo, if not for the apartment keys that were found in his pockets.

It made the young cop wonder what kind of life he'd lived to get to this point.

But no matter, he still had to do his job. The man had came with the chief to inspect the situation when someone had reported about a dead man in the streets. Since they belonged to a different department, he didn't really need to idle around after getting what they needed from the other personnel on the scene.

As the chief's subordinate, the younger man was tasked with doing these menial administrative jobs with the other departments, so he quickly set out to work after catching a last look at the corpse.

"Go, Kento, don't worry about me."

"...I got it."

It only took a few minutes before the cop named Kento was finished with business, and he looked around for where the officer was.

Hm? Kento realized that the chief had not moved ever since he came into the crime scene. He remained there, staring up at the bridge above them.

It was quite rare for the chief to take interest in something like this. Did he know the identity of the deceased? Kento surmised.

As he thought harder staring at the burly face of the dead man being packed into a blue corpse bag, Kento suddenly realized something.

'I remember now... this guy, wasn't he on the news a few years ago. If I recall, it was some really huge scandal between him and his wife, who was supposedly a very important figure in a big company. After that... I heard he lost the court case and they subsequently divorced. His name...'

It was on the edge of his memories, but Kento couldn't recall it.

Still... he didn't really know what had happened to him to fall this far, but Kento couldn't help but feel sympathy towards the unlucky guy who had chosen suicide as his only option. Sure, living could be hard in this city filled with constant noise and depression. But to take one's own life, there were probably extremities that had pushed the man to his breaking point. Not even a parting letter for his loved ones, or a single deed to his name, this man had lost everything overnight.

In any case, Kento was starving. Wanting to quickly get this over with, the cop approached from behind but just as he was about to call out to his superior, the man noticed that the chief was staring up at the bridge above them with a cigarette lit in his mouth.

Sensing that his subordinate had finished his job, the chief took out a packet of Malboro cigarettes and handed it to him without even turning back.

"Sir, I don't smoke." Kento smiled wryly.

"That so," The chief returned the pack into his pockets and stared into the air listlessly again.

"Is something the matter. I thought Sir had quit smoking already?"

Chief remained silent, and heaved out a wistful puff of smoke into the cold air.

"It's fine once in a while."

"That... so." It was surprising for Kento to see this strange, melancholic side of the chief, who was known for his strictness in the police force. He was always serious in work and private, that he had earned somewhat of an infamous nickname for himself around his peers.

The chief then suddenly spoke,

"Heh heh... what can I say. Sometimes, life really feels like a cruel joke."

"Sir?"

A brief delay later, the chief turned around and pat on his shoulder.

"No, it's nothing. It's just an old man talking to to himself." 

He shook his head and snorted, almost self-derisively.

"If we're done here, let's go already."

It was only until the chief was opening the car door, that the cop had snapped out of it.

"Wait up, Sir!"

The chief had acted a little strangely today, and he thought that perhaps he was really acquainted with the deceased man before.

`Come to think of it, I remember hearing from the guys that Sir used to have a best friend who helped him out a lot in his early years of truancy. They lost contact when both of them left high school, but...'

Kento turned around and stared at the body bag, which was now being loaded up into a police van.

'It's a little far-fetched, but. That man kind of looked like he was about Sir's age.'

"If I remember correctly, his name was..."

Minato. Tenryuji Minato.