The police station had its own rhythm. It was different from the rest of the city. Outside, people hurried to work, cafés slowly filled with customers, and traffic grew louder with every passing minute.
Inside the station, however, mornings always began the same way. Phones rang. Files were exchanged between desks.
Officers greeted one another before disappearing into another day of paperwork and unanswered questions.
Anirudh had already been there for nearly an hour. He greeted everyone the way he always did.
"Morning."
Mirelle looked up from a file and returned the greeting with a smile before continuing her work.
Rethan handed him a folder without saying much.
"The survivor's latest statement."
Anirudh accepted it with a quiet nod.
The room settled into silence again. Officers were in their place. And Anirudh too became busy in the file. He read every page carefully.
Nothing had changed.
The survivor still remembered very little.
The descriptions remained vague.
No new names.
No new faces.
Only another reminder that the investigation had stopped moving. He closed the file. His eyes wandered across the investigation board. All the photos, maps and the lines drawn by sketchpens hung there. He thought of going to the scene again, but everyone were busy.
It bothered him. Too easy to let go someone who is cruel enough to give the choice of living at the cost of someone else.
A pattern that obvious rarely existed without another one hiding beneath it.
He leaned back in his chair.
"Thinking again deeply?"
Mirelle's voice pulled him back. He looked over and replied
"I suppose."
"You always suppose."
A small smile crossed his face.
"And you're always curious."
"I have to be."
She laughed softly.
"It's part of my job."
"So is overthinking."
That earned the closest thing to a laugh anyone had heard from him all week.
For a brief moment... the room felt lighter.
Then he stood up and said
"I'm going to step outside."
Rethan didn't even look up from his paperwork.
"Don't go too far."
"I won't."
The morning air felt cooler than any other time. Anirudh walked without having any destination. He wandered around the station without thinking much, until his eyes drifted toward the side window. The brief encounter from two days ago quietly returned to his mind.
He went closer, the place where he remembered the man was standing. From there he could hear the voices from inside. Mirelle was talking to a co - worker.
"This is why he stood here?"
He looked down. The ground was spotless. There wasn't a discarded cup, a cigarette, or even a crumpled wrapper. It reminded him of something the officers were always told during training: the station reflected the people who served in it. Whoever had stood here two days ago had left nothing behind.
Whatever answer he expected...it wasn't there.
Only another question.
He turned around and left, he could again smell the aroma of the boiling tea from his position.
The owner smiled the moment he approached.
"Officer."
"Morning." Anirudh said
"The usual?"
"I've only been here once."
The owner laughed.
"Then I'll make it your usual."
Anirudh accepted the tea with a polite thank you.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The city did enough talking for both of them.
A newspaper vendor shouted headlines.
Someone hurried across the crossing after the traffic light had already changed.
Suddenly the owner spoke almost absentmindedly.
"You know..."
"The officer before you used to stand where you were just now."
Anirudh looked up.
"The previous officer?"
The owner nodded.
"Used to buy tea..."
"...forget to drink it..."
"...and spend more time looking at the station than inside it."
Anirudh found himself smiling.
"What was his name?"
"Aren Valric."
The name felt familiar. The name stirred something in his memory. The transfer papers. The suspension report. A passport-sized photograph clipped neatly to the file.
"The man..."as Anirudh was starting to speak, the tea owner spoke:
"People said he was suspended for shooting someone." The owner shrugged as he wiped another glass. "Maybe they're right. Maybe they're not. But from the conversations we've had... he never struck me as someone who'd pull the trigger without a reason."
Anirudh realized what the owner meant. He looked at the cup for a minute. And then stood up and places the glass back into the counter. And said thank you. The owner smiled and said: "See you tomorrow, officer"
Lost in thoughts, Anirudh looked towards the station. His footsteps slowed. The man was there again. The same quiet figure. The same dark jacket.