Disclaimer: Characters from PoT were created by Konomi Takeshi. Gil Grissom belongs to CBS (or to whoever thought of CSI, for that matter).

First in a possible series of semi-independent stories involving the Seigaku regulars as night-shift crime scene investigators. No actual sleuthing in this episode, I'm afraid -- just introductions (to lay the groundwork for any future episodes that might come up). Reviews are appreciated.

A point that I must emphasise: no shounen-ai is intended or implied. Pairings are strictly professional, or (at the most) friendly. Fangirling in our family is the exclusive preserve of my sister.

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The 16:30 express from central Tokyo slowed down rapidly as it approached the Seigaku railway terminal, screeching to a halt on the rain-soaked track within seconds after the driver applied the brakes. Its four carriages, normally filled to bursting with commuters, disgorged their unusually meagre burden of passengers before being towed away by the locomotive to a local rail yard for routine maintenance work before its rush-hour return to Shinjuku Station.

As the 16:30 pulled out, a young lady slipped her train pass into an exit turnstile and walked away from the platform towards the station building. Dressed in the light blue uniform of a police officer – her dark red hair hanging loose down her back – the woman piled three bags onto a trolley before slowly making her way to the main lobby. A small rectangle of black plastic pinned to her uniform bore the name RYUZAKI SAKUNO in bold white letters. On the other side of her shirt was a small metal pin, upon which was stamped the image of a gilded chrysanthemum resting on four silver leaves with three bars on either side: the insignia of a sergeant in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force.

Her lonely footsteps echoed through the great corridors of Seigaku Station. Looking out of the huge picture windows, Sakuno could see wind-driven rain falling from a sky as dark and as heavy as sheets of beaten lead. Pity. Right about now the heavens would have been ablaze in hues of bright yellow and orange as the dying rays of the setting sun cast one final, glorious burst of radiance over the entire landscape. For one brief moment, the dark scenery was lit by a flash of lightning, though it quickly subsided into obscurity as a roll of thunder boomed overhead.

Pausing by the stairs, she reached into her travelling bag and pulled out a slip of paper that bore the text of the e-mail her grandmother had sent her the previous night. The message was terse, but not unfriendly: You won't find any buses when you arrive tomorrow afternoon, so I'll come by the station and fetch you myself. Meet me by the East Entrance. Have a safe journey.

Sakuno stuffed the e-mail into her pocket and smiled. Four months away from home – oh, how good it felt to be back! But the time she spent in Osaka was well worth all that rigorous training, the sleepless nights, the plain food and abusive language . . . yes, the police training facility there was the best in Japan. She felt confident that her special experience would enable her to swap those sergeant's stripes on her shoulder for a lieutenant's insignia before the year was out.

The vast entrance lobby was almost deserted. Rather than having to jostle her way through the rush-hour crowds that normally milled about there, Sakuno had no difficulty in making her way to the East Entrance. She put her bags down on the floor and leaned against a column within sight of the driveway.

Half an hour later, the young police officer was nervously pacing the floor, looking up with increasing regularity at the large digital clock suspended over the entrance. 17:22. 17:32. 17:38. 17:42. 17:43. The minutes ticked by one after another in an interminable procession, and still there was no sign of her grandmother – or of any living soul, for that matter. Sakuno felt that she was the only person left in the station building, which with the inadequate lighting grew progressively darker as the evening wore on.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the voice she heard at precisely 17:51 gave her such a fright.

"Excuse me . . . that shoulder badge – you're a police sergeant, right? How can I get to Seigaku police HQ?"

Startled, Sakuno turned around and found herself looking into the pale golden eyes of a man who, as far as she could gather, was not much older than she was. Dressed in a light grey trench coat belted loosely at the waist, her unexpected companion would have looked every bit like a young film noir detective were it not for the bright red T-shirt that peeked through the open collar of his coat and the white baseball cap perched on top of his slightly bowed head. From underneath the cap sprouted several tufts of unkempt hair that was of a most unusual colour – dark green, it seemed, though in the dim light it was difficult to tell.

"A-are you talking to me?" she blurted out nervously.

"Of course. You don't see any other police sergeants around, do you? So, could you give me directions? I need to be at the Seigaku crime lab within an hour."

All of a sudden, Sakuno felt a rush of warm blood surge into her cheeks. She knew the answer to his query – but for some reason it was difficult to get the right words out.

"Er . . . well, I'd advise you to take the No. 7 bus, except that there aren't any buses today."

"I'll walk."

"B-But it's several miles away! And it's raining cats and dogs out there."

"I don't mind. So, what's the most direct route? A fellow passenger said something about the Hamaguchi Bridge."

"Ha-Hamaguchi? Umm . . . I think it's that way," Sakuno said uncertainly, pointing towards the West Entrance.

"Thank you." The oddly-dressed young man – barely more than a boy, really – pulled up the collar of his trench coat, marched to the other side of the station building and vanished into the rainstorm.

Who was that man? Sakuno wondered, her mind unable to banish the vivid memory of two unblinking eyes under a crown of dark green hair. The image and the question remained with her up to the moment when she caught a glimpse of her grandmother's black Mercedes sedan pulling up to the East Entrance.

"Obaasan!" Sakuno called out, a broad smile breaking over her face as she gathered her things and walked towards the red-haired woman who stepped out of the car. "I've been waiting ages for you." Suddenly remembering her place, she bowed and said, "Forgive me, Superintendent Ryuzaki."

"Oh, that's quite all right, Sergeant Ryuzaki," her grandmother said in a friendly voice as she gave Sakuno a mighty hug. "In fact, I'm the one who needs to apologise. I would have arrived sooner, but Captain Tezuka and I were summoned to the Commissioner-General's office this morning for an important conference. A fine time for my mobile phone to break down, too. So," she said, giving the young police officer a once-over while struggling to open a large umbrella, "how are you?"

"Rather stressed out, I'm afraid," Sakuno admitted as she followed the superintendent down the East Entrance ramp. "But four months at the Osaka police training facility and at central HQ in Tokyo should give me quite an edge when I resume my duties here."

They got into the car and drove off through the pouring rain. As the elder Ryuzaki manoeuvred around a corner, Sakuno noticed that they were heading in an unfamiliar direction, away from the streets leading to the western district where Seigaku Police HQ stood. She pointed this out to her grandmother.

"Ah, the Hamaguchi Bridge and its approaches are closed for major repairs. There's also a huge protest march near Murayama Park – it's still on, I'm told, even with this terrible weather – so the streets all around are packed with people. We need to take an alternate route through the eastern district for about a mile, then drive back west along the coastal road and across the Kiyoura Causeway." The superintendent shook her head. "I pity any poor soul who tries to make his way west by the old route; he'd lose an hour or two just trying to get back to the railway station."