Kokawa Kokone's POV:

I was in one of those states where you're awake, but you refuse to open your eyes. Remnants of the fantastic dream I had just had were beginning to disappear as I became more aware of my surroundings.

What a good dream…such a good dream…but already I was having trouble recalling it.

I groaned in protest: isn't that always the way? Why were the good dreams the ones I forgot so easily while the bad ones stuck around despite the fact that I definitely wanted nothing to do with them? I turned my head to the other side and attempted the twist my body around as well, but something stopped me.

My eyes snapped open; what was in my way?

Oh right. Ichiro. I flushed slightly as I noted his arm casually draped across my stomach. No doubt an accident, but if anything it was a little out of my comfort zone. I quickly realized that my hand was lying helplessly on his chest, and decided that we shared the blame in this situation as I stealthily removed it while at the same time placing his arm closer to him and completely off of me.

Hmm, wasn't there something important today? And then I remembered.

"Shit," I hissed as I scrambled onto all fours. Ichiro made it a bit difficult for me to get out of bed, so I settled for trying to grab the alarm clock on the bedside table…

…And ended up crawling on top of him anyway.

"Oomph! What're you -"

"Crap, crap, crap," I muttered under my breath as I read the time: 11:23. I had to be at the interview at 12. I tumbled off of the bed and rolled into a standing position at the box I had yet to actually unpack. Shoes, shirt, pants…good enough. I started to strip.

"Hey, hey, hey! At least wait for me to get out of the room!" Ichiro said in exasperation from off to the side. I was hardly paying attention.

"Oh, get over yourself, you've seen me naked. Does it really matter?" At this point, my shorts were off and I was in the process of hopping into my nice slacks while simultaneously shimmying off my shirt.

"It should…" He mumbled a few other things that I couldn't make out completely through my distractions at the moment. After successfully buttoning my shirt, I reached down for my heels. Out of nowhere, we both heard pounding at the front door.

"I wonder who that could be…" Ichiro thought aloud as he got up to check it out. I ignored it and grabbed my toothbrush as I hustled to the bathroom.

I looked as good as I could in the condition I was in. When I next checked the clock it was 11:37.

"Kokone!" Ichiro called from the kitchen downstairs. I grabbed my shoes and nearly fell in my attempt to race down there. I stopped in my tracks when I landed at the bottom.

"…Heiji? Why are you here?" He was sipping a cup of coffee that Ichiro must have given him at the table, calm as ever. The look he gave me was in slight annoyance and possibly are-you-kidding-me.

"Didn't I tell you I was picking you up for the interview? How did you think you were getting there if Ichiro ended up going to work? Speaking of which, why aren't you working?" He turned his attention to Ichiro, who was pouring himself some orange juice.

"I had a lot of 48-hour shifts in the past month. There's a limit to how many hours you can actually put in, so for now I'm just on call."

"Wait a minute, when did you say you were taking me?" I butted in.

"Yesterday. Don't you remember? Why are you so easily distracted?"

"I'm not!" I swatted my shoes at him in protest. "You should have made sure I knew!"

"Hey, I'm not the only on apparently not mentioning things. Or did you at some point tell me you two were living together while I was busy solving the case?" I gaped. How was I supposed to explain that?

"Uh, this was recent. Like, last night recent. And it's not what you think." Ichiro chose to speak up, and for that I was eternally grateful.

"Ahhh, so you two lovebirds are finally figuring things out, neee?" This look of triumph masked Heiji's face; I had a strong urge to slap it right off.

"Did you not just hear me?" Ichiro asked in frustration as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "It's not because of that." He glanced at me nervously, not sure if he should explain the situation or not.

"I'd like to hear a better reason than love. Well? Why are you living here now?" I inhaled slowly before answering through gritted teeth.

"Hyo Yeoung owns my apartment now." Heiji nearly choked on the coffee he had previously been sipping.

"He what? Jesus, what hasn't that guy taken from you, ah? I'm telling you, sometimes I wish I could have punched him in the nose…" He was shaking his head, clearly angry at the idea of Hyo Yeoung. Something inside me melted a little bit. See? I asked myself. The important ones understand.

"Anyway, we should get going. You ready?" Heiji stood up and took his cup to the sink. I nodded and followed him towards the entrance.

"I'd wish you luck, but you won't need it," Ichiro called after me. I turned back and tried my best to smile.

"Thanks. I hope I won't…"

"It'll be fine. When you come home with your new certification, we'll go get something good to eat." He leaned casually back against the sink, a relaxed and reassuring smile on his face. How I longed to just stay here and sit in his comfortable presence…

"Thanks for everything, Chiro. I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, now." He shooed me out of the kitchen to where Heiji was waiting by the front door impatiently.

"Come on! We're on a tight schedule, here."

"Alright, alright, calm down," I grumbled as I slipped on my shoes.

Hopefully this wouldn't lead to further disaster.

Nervous didn't even begin to describe what I was feeling as I sat in the waiting room of the building I had previously been so used to. How had I not noticed this room before? Possibly because it had been an obstacle to my actual work space, as I normally just grazed on through to the elevator to start my day. This was where all the families waited, expecting news that no single family member ever wants to hear. "Good morning, Mr./Ms. _, your sibling/spouse/parent/child's cause of death is severe blood loss due to the massive injuries he/she sustained while being murdered."

Okay, so I wasn't that harsh about it, but no matter how you say it, that's how the family member hears it.

I would know.

Sympathy overwhelmed me at that moment as I spotted a young woman across the room from me. Her face held an exhausted yet alert expression that suggested she wasn't entirely ready to handle whatever news had just been thrown into her face. She was maybe in her early 20s, probably younger than me. I watched as her legs crossed and uncrossed nervously, wondering who she was currently missing from her life.

I directed my attention elsewhere and focused on the clock hanging idly on the opposite wall. It was 12:02. Heiji left to go to work after telling me to call him immediately after the interview was over.

Everyone was expecting me to do well with this, to prove that I was sane and get my job back, piece of cake, no problem at all. But how could they be so sure? None of them would have guessed that I had picked up that gun and pointed it at innocent people, those of which included Ichiro. Not a single one of them could have possibly assumed that I would have done that. So why were they assuming that I could just as easily recuperate?

It was almost unfair. I appreciated their support, but it seems like success stems from the necessity to win over the people that assume you can't possibly end up victorious. That's what had always pushed me, and now it was just…

I had enemies. But they were too insignificant. Or maybe I had grown as a person and had stopped caring in general? Was that good or bad?

"Who are you waiting to hear about?" I blinked and followed the voice that had rudely interrupted my train of thought. It was that woman, though now her face seemed calmer, as if just making eye contact with another person that could possibly be in the same situation as her was enough to keep her grounded.

"Uh – no one, actually. I used to work here. Well. I mean, I might still work here. I don't know." She looked a bit skeptical, so I stopped babbling. "Are you waiting to hear about someone?" The woman swallowed and looked at the ground.

"My brother. Someone murdered him while he was taking the night shift for security at a museum. I just don't understand who would want to hurt him…" She looked up to the ceiling as if for an answer from above. There were tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Please don't say that," she pleaded as she met my eyes once again. "I've heard that phrase so many times today. Just don't say it anymore." It was quiet for a moment. A telephone rang noisily from the front desk a few feet away.

"Okay," I finally said. "I won't say it. But I understand."

"How could you possibly understand?" She said this more like she actually wanted to know than she wanted to criticize me.

"How do you think I got into this field of work? My father was murdered right before my eyes when I was 8."

"Wow…and here I thought no one really knew." She smiled sadly at me, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Kokawa Kokone," someone called harshly from behind me. I jumped just a tiny bit. When I turned in my seat, I came face to face with my old boss, Tamura Hiroto. "Come this way."

I got up and started to leave, but didn't forget the woman across from me.

"I hope they find justice for your brother." She nodded and watched me go.

Once inside my boss's office, he told me to sit across from his desk in a seat next to a man that was already waiting with a notepad in his lap. He looked like the psychiatrist type, but I had no idea that that's what he really was until he introduced himself.

"This is Dr. Ojima. He's going to ask you a few questions to determine your mental health." I almost snickered at this blatant statement, but was somehow able to keep it to myself.

"Alright then, Kokawa-san. First off, about the incident a few weeks ago. How would you explain that to someone?"

"I…uh…" I faltered a bit, not really sure where to start. "Well you see, there was a lot going on -"

"Such as?"

"Well…my husband had cheated on me with one of my best friends' fiancé. I went to tell this best friend and he happened to be in the middle of solving a case – since he's a detective on the police force, so you can also ask him what happened – and one of the suspects pulled a gun on him. I guess…I sort of snapped and stole the gun from him." The psychiatrist nodded, not entirely in understanding, but not like I was a psychopath either. This is good, I decided.

"I understand you've had a lot of trauma in your life."

"A few near death experiences," I mentioned casually. "A few witnesses to brutal murder. I was seeing a psychiatrist until recently…"

"And you don't anymore?"

"…I could start those sessions up again, if you think it's necessary."

"How have your sleeping habits been?"

"Uh…fine, I guess."

"Any disturbing dreams?"

"Oh, all the time, but that's been going on since my dad died."

"What about your eating habits?"

"Fine."

"Hygiene?"

"Do I smell?" That got the man to crack a witty smile.

"No, I suppose you don't. And you're definitely put together pretty well physically at least…What about mentally though? Have you ever contemplated suicide at any point in your life?"

"…Yes."

"When was the last time?" He suddenly seemed concerned, so I tried to fix whatever Pandora's Box I had just unleashed.

"When I was hiding out from the Black Organization. I thought killing myself would keep the ones close to me from being targeted." He nodded, listening closely.

"Do you live on your own?"

"Not anymore."

"With that husband of yours?"

"No. No, I divorced that bastard." My boss snorted, and the psychiatrist tried not to smile. "I'm living with a close friend."

"Your boss tells me you did some pretty heroic work yesterday. Would you mind telling me about it?"

"I saved a man from a burning building. I just – I don't know, everyone was just watching, not really able to help. I felt like I had to." He nodded thoughtfully.

"Lastly, do you think you're fit for this job, and why?" I had to think about this for a minute in silence.

"I think that this is my calling. I wasn't born to be a doctor that saves lives; I was intended to aid those that are grieving over the lives that couldn't be saved. I need this job to keep my sanity in check, because otherwise, I won't know what to do with myself. Not being able to work has been one of the harder parts of this whole situation. Though it's beneath me, and I normally don't do this sort of thing, I'm willing to beg for this job. A large part of my life now depends on it. You wouldn't regret having me back." It was quiet as they both absorbed this, and then the psychiatrist started to smile in elation.

"Well sir, I believe you have your chief medical examiner back." He stood up and handed off a few papers to my boss, who also stood to accept them and shake his hand.

"Wonderful. Fantastic! When can you start again? Does Next Monday sound good?" I just stared at him, totally not understanding what he was saying.

"My…I have my job back? I passed the exam?" I asked in rising incredulousness as I slowly rose to my feet.

"Indeed, Ms. Kokawa. Or should I say, Dr. Kokawa. Congratulations." He extended his hand and I took it limply, letting him do all the shaking before he smiled and took his leave.

"I…I have my job back. I got the job?" I was talking to myself now, which probably didn't look too good considering I just had an examination over my mental health.

"You got the job," my boss encouraged with a light smile as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "It'll be good to have you back. Fukuta-san just isn't the same…we need a woman in power, ne?" He winked at me and leaned over his desk to hand me a paper. I took it gingerly and examined it with care.

CERTIFICATION OF APPROVAL

For the Office of CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER

This patient has been deemed mentally sane by: Ojima Satoru on this day of December the 15th

No shit…it clearly stated that I was mentally sane.

I lost it then.

"OMO, OMO, OMO! AAAHAHAHA, THIS IS GREAT! THANK YOU, THANKS SO MUCH!" I nearly leapt over his desk to hug him, which he accepted easily enough with a few surprised chuckles. "I won't disappoint you, sir!"

"Fine, fine, just be here next Monday," he replied easily. I jumped up and down once more with a squeal as I ran from the office, determined to sprint all the way home just to show Ichiro. He'd certainly get a kick out of it.

Getting home was a complete blur. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I ran the whole way or not. Maybe I had taken a taxi to the nearest block. But however I had arrived on Ichiro's street, I was currently running as fast as possible while holding my certificate and my heels, already calling out his name.

There was no way he could hear me yet, but I kept on. "ICHIRO!" I hollered. "ICHIROOOO!" I flung myself up the porch steps and through the door, surprised that it was unlocked as I threw my shoes off in a frenzy.

"CHIROCHIROCHIRO!" I chanted as I huffed into the kitchen. His back was to me while he was at the sink, pouring himself some coffee while wearing his hospital scrubs. It only took a matter of seconds though for him to turn and see me there. His eyes popped open wide as I ran over to him and impulsively decided to jump up and hug him around the neck, my certificate still in my hand. He tentatively wrapped his arms around me as he chuckled nervously.

"What's going on? Did you pass?" I pulled back, an almost painful grin spread across my face as I held up the paper for proof. He took it and read over it with an amused expression on his face. His eyebrows shifted upwards in surprise as he laughed some more.

"Well look at that. Didn't I tell you? This is fantastic!" Now it was my turn to be surprised as he stooped over slightly and lifted me right off my feet in a triumphant hug of sorts, but at the moment it didn't matter what the definition of our relationship was.

All I knew was that no matter what, he would always be my best friend.