Disclaimer: I do not own Psycho-Pass nor its characters. They rightfully belong to their creators!
Tiny mechanical droids tasked themselves away to scrub every bit of flesh off the grimy tiles. A gurney was pulled along, carrying what was left of the woman's body in a black body bag. Warbling sirens echoed out into the foggy night. The authorities stood outside of the warehouse and spoke in hushed voices.
The iciness in the air started to make Akane's fingers grow anesthetized. Her rosy cheeks stung. In attempt to warm herself up, she brought up a pair of hands to her mouth and blew into them. Her long, doe-like lashes flickered over, casting nearly invisible shades across her small visage.
In a nearby puddle, she saw a black reflection of a man struggling against the reinforcement. She looked up.
"Screw you MWPSB bastards!" He screamed at them. "You killed my fiancée!"
"Please calm down, Mr. Takada." The one of the robots extended its metallic arm to push him back." High stress is detected. It is recommended you seek psychological help."
For a spilt second, Akane shared eye contact with the screaming man. Akane could see a mixture of burning hatred and sadness in the windows of his hurt soul. Her throat tightened as she averted her brown orbs. That hostility he openly harbored against them was harrowing.
She vacillated whether if they made the right choice: killing that woman. There were consequences from erasing her existence—that man wouldn't be the same again. She knew very well that this could have been prevented in the beginning.
"You did well, Miss. Inspector." Kougami stood by her side, studying for signs of her distress.
Earning no response from her but the subtle chattering of her teeth, he shrugged off his coat, only to place it over Akane's shoulders. Her seemingly dark countenance consorted into a surprised look, she glanced up to the tall man.
"I mean it. You did well." His voice low and earnest this time, snowy-blue eyes cast onto her.
Akane inhaled the sundry of nicotine and minty aftershave that stained Kougami's coat. It smelled good to her. She didn't mind the husky scent of smoke; it was oddly comforting to her. She curled her fingers over the furred hems and pulled them close together. Then she sighed wearily, "Thanks."
She wished she could offer condolences for what happened to the woman's once soon-to-be groom, but it seemed unfeasible to do so. The man continued hollering at them, then he was bound by handcuffs and was forcibly shoved into a car.
A few feet away from Kougami and Akane, Ginoza was collaborating with other Inspectors who worked on the same case of the recent serial killings, and he happened to catch a glimpse of the brief, somewhat intimate interaction between the unconventional couple.
He pushed up his sliding glasses on the sharp bridge of his nose and narrowed his eyes as Kougami draped his own coat over the much shorter woman. Perhaps, he was reading too much into everything. Still, he personally didn't want Akane fall victim into thinking the latent criminals were good people when he believed that they weren't.
Silver droplets started to descend onto their heads. Several thunderclaps rolled in the angry-looking clouds above; flashes of brilliant lightning leapt out like a dragon's tongue, radiating its own lightshow over the roaring ocean.
"We should get going." Yayoi spoke softly and shielded the rain falling into her eyes with her hand.
Akane happily agreed. It was time to leave the dark labyrinth behind.
"Thank you for lending me your coat, Mr. Kougami," the young Inspector handed back the heavy, new duster to her partner. "Sorry, you got wet from the rain."
"It's fine. Wouldn't want you getting a cold anyways," Kougami grunted, deflecting her shy apology. He swung his coat over the chair and sat down.
His desk he sat in front of was bombarded with white leaflets that recorded the recent killings in all regions of Tokyo. Many were indirectly connected to the revolution that Shogo Makishima orchestrated. In its aftermath, the Psycho-Pass of many citizens became clouded, and they ended up dropping into the deep end. Therefore, the crime rate escalated.
Akane's desk was more organized compared to Kougami's. She stacked the documents she obtained from her senior officer neatly. Rarely, it is ever untidy. She plopped down into her office chair and stared at the picture of her smiling friends. It was only personal belonging of hers she brought to work. Yuki was in it. It brought a pang in Akane's heart, but it still brought courage at the same time. She swore up and down that she would bring justice for her lamented friend.
The rest of the Enforcers strolled in. Yayoi and Masaoka eased themselves into their usually seats. Two workspaces remained empty. One of them was untouched over five months. It used to belong to Kagari Shuusei. The toys and a gaming console were never cleared away from the dusty surface. They were left there as if to preserve the memory of the absent Enforcer who mysteriously vanished.
"I'm glad we've solved the case," said Masaoka, placing both of his hands behind his disheveled hair.
The entire room remained silent. Only the soft rustling of shifting papers and the pitter-patter of rains the danced across the rooftops rung through the space. No one exchanged a word. It was reasonable. Everyone was haggard.
As if they were little gizmos, the cranked up pins behind their backs could only last for so long. After several losses they have endured the past months, it was uncertain how much longer they could fight against the cruelty called life.
Akane's eyelids drooped over her soft hues of brown; she rested her chin into her hand as she stared almost wistfully at the picture erected on her desk. Will this tiresome trial ever end, Yuki?