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I remain calm and composed even in stressful situations.I tend to think before acting, even in fast-paced situations.I sometimes make hasty decisions without fully considering the consequences.I am able to make quick and effective decisions under pressure.I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.Papers shuffled. A chair squeaked as it jutted across the floor. She opened the window through the blinds, eliciting a clattering mess from the plastic hitting itself, then lit a cigarette. Smoke fanned from her lips after a long drag. “If I’m being honest, I don’t think you are ready to come back on the team.”He folded his hands in his lap as she walked back to her desk. She leaned against the wood, her pencil skirt riding up a fraction as she sucked the filter. His eyes didn’t drift from hers, even as she raised her chin, the column of her pristine neck on display as she exhaled a long sigh.“Was there something wrong with my answers, ma’am?”“No, they were fine.” She bowed her head limp like a puppet, looked up at him through her wireframe glasses balanced on the tip of her curved nose. “I don’t think you answered them honestly.”“Dr. Barns told me he reached out to you. He’s said I’ve made great strides, and he believes-”“Barns,” She cut in with a drawl, “has only been your therapist for the past three months. Before that was Schein, and then Dobbler, and then Copal. Compared to Riesling, the one you were mandated to after the incident, Barns has one year of experience and atrocious reviews.”“Is it so wrong to look for a therapist who best fits my needs?” He tapped his fingers across his knee, sighing out with practiced ease. “He’s done wonders.”“This is the twentieth time you’ve asked to take this test,” She pressed. She stubbed the lit end out on the corner of Kabru’s sheets, right beside his name written in swooping cursive. Intelligent. Refined. Mentally well. “Many officers after experiencing similar situations may find it prudent to take more time off.”He straightened, careful to keep his expression neutral if not relaxed and content. “With all due respect, I’ve already taken more time off than I ever wanted. The department needs more hands on deck; it would make sense to start adding me back in as the demand calls for it.”She arched an eyebrow, tilting her head as she adjusted the papers on her desk. “Is that so? You know so much about our state after you haven’t stepped a uniformed foot in here since–”She flicked the cigarette bud in the trash. A swirl of smoke clouded out from the rubbish. Kabru kept his sights on her as she leaned back into her chair. “But time off isn’t necessarily about what you want, is it? It’s about what you need. And what the team needs. We can’t be carrying deadweight with the overwhelming amount of cases we have.”The hint of bitterness trickled into his arms and he balled his fists. He relaxed them instantaneously, but he saw the dart of her eyes. He smiled, scooting forward in his seat. “I’ve done everything asked of me. I’ve worked through the exercises, the evaluations—”“Twenty times,” she interrupted, her voice sharp but quiet. She reached into her desk for something, mind preoccupied as she held Kabru’s future in her palm. “This isn’t a record of perseverance, Kabru. It’s evidence of something unresolved. And if I let you back on the team, I can’t guarantee that you won’t be a risk. To yourself, and to everyone around you. You know what that’s like.”Kabru took a slow breath as a disbelieving laugh echoed from his left. He ignored it. “Dr. Barns said setbacks are normal.”She gave a small, humorless smile. “And that’s true. But there’s a difference between complications and consistent patterns. Kabru, you’re intelligent. You know that. But intelligence doesn’t exempt you from scrutiny. And right now, what I’m seeing are the patterns of someone who’s not fully in control.” She retrated her hand from her desk, pulling out a fucking business card of all things, then leaned forward, folding her hands. “You want to talk about honesty? Where is Rin right now?”Kabru clenched his jaw, fingers pressing into his lap as he fought to keep his expression neutral. “Palms Grove Cemetery, why? Were you thinking of visiting?”“That’s not what I meant.” Something gnawed at his insides, made worse by the smirk on his superior’s face as she looked at him, studying him like he was some broken puzzle she’d finally solved.
"Let me be blunt, Kabru," she said, her tone low and speculative. She leaned in, clasping her hands. "Do you actually believe Rin’s gone?""You are referring to when it was fresh. Anyone would have been shaken up. I’ll admit, Dr. Barns said recovery is not linear, so I accept a lesser role or a slower transition-”Her lips curled into a humorless smile. "I’m sure you’ve memorized all those therapy talk lines, but this is about what I’m seeing right now." She slid a business card toward him with the faintest suggestion of pity, then paused. Kabru looked at it. He wasn’t surprised to see another recommendation, likely a therapist trained for helping people within his career field and not a family divorce therapist. Kabru knew Barns was a longshot. "Tell me, do you feel in control?”He didn’t flinch, though there was a phantom punch in the gut. “Yes.”She tilted her head, studying him.“Then here’s my question, Kabru.” Her voice softened, but her eyes stayed sharp. “Why does this mean so much to you? Twenty times you’ve come to be evaluated. What is the reason?”Kabru swallowed, a slow, deliberate, practiced movement as he held her gaze, the weight of her question pressing down on him. His fingers drummed on his knee for a heartbeat before he stilled them, the carefully controlled calm edging around his own storm of frustration.“I need to work, to contribute,” He said, adding a quiet, “not under a pity watch.”She didn’t blink, didn’t look away. He felt her searching him, sifting through his words, his tone, as if measuring their sincerity. But Kabru held himself still, determined not to give her any more reasons to doubt him. She retrieved another cigarette. Offered him one. He declined.She leaned forward. “But if you’re here to prove something, then it’s not about the work at all, is it?”He stood from his chair, his smile unwavering. “You’ve already decided I’m not ready. You decided the moment I walked in here that I’m just another liability to you, haven’t you?”Her brows lifted, almost amused at his sudden gesture. She flicked her lighter twice, then threw it onto the desk when it didn’t spark.“You want honesty, right?” she said, propping her elbows on the desk. “Fine. Yes, I have doubts. You say you’re ready, but everything I’ve seen says otherwise.”Kabru felt his composure fraying as she spoke, but he forced himself to breathe, to keep his expression from cracking. “So you’re saying I’m just lying to myself,” he replied, his voice cool. “That I can’t even trust what I know to be true. Are we really going back that far?”She didn’t reply immediately, just looked at him, a strange, almost softened expression flitting across her face.“No,” she said finally. She turned to look out the closed blinds. “I’m saying you’re afraid to admit that maybe this isn’t the place for you anymore.”His chest tightened, the weight of her words pressing down, stoking something restless within him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I worked for this. For years. I’ve done everything they asked, sacrificed more than you could imagine.”“And yet, here you are, being asked to sit it out,” she replied, brushing hair out of her face as if his breath was just a brush of wind for her. Inconsequential. She’d walk out of here without the anguish Kabru would, he knew that. “Doesn’t that tell you anything?”The door swung open with a force that rattled the walls, breaking the stillness as Agent Evers strode into the room, his face flushed, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even acknowledge Kabru seated across the desk. Instead, his arm extended, and he dropped his badge squarely in front of their superior with a metallic thud. The impact seemed to carry the weight of his exhaustion, of every pent-up frustration that clung to his frame.“I’m done,” Evers said, his voice rough with barely contained anger. His hand lingered on the badge for a moment before retracting, as if he were severing a lifeline.“Agent,” She acknowledged quietly. “What is the meaning of this?”“Lost the damn gun again. It’s fucking gone. Again.” He raked a hand through his clumpy hair. “The guy’s unpredictable, unstable. He—he’s just a walking disaster, and there needs to be something done about him. If not, I’m walking.”She regarded him calmly, unruffled, her face set in a practiced neutrality that only years of experience could master. Kabru felt her gaze shift ever so slightly, and her unspoken message wasn’t lost on him. She let Evers’ words hang in the air a moment longer before finally responding.“Noted,” she said, her tone carrying the quiet, unyielding authority that commanded silence. “Pack your desk, and dismiss yourself.”Evers turned to leave without another word, but Kabru could feel the tension strung in the air from him as she faintly called out, uncaringly, “Good luck on your future endeavors.”With the door clicking shut behind him, she turned her attention fully to Kabru, her dark eyes narrowing with a kind of clinical scrutiny that put him on edge. Her expression, usually passive and unreadable, was now touched with a rare glimmer of amusement, as if Evers’ outburst had merely confirmed something she already suspected.“Well, Kabru,” she said, her voice low and deliberate, “it seems Evers couldn’t handle his assignment. Which leaves us… with an opening.” She inclined her head, gesturing to the empty space where Evers had stood moments before. “We have a very talented, eccentric agent on our staff that is without a partner once again. I think you might be just the person to take over that role.”Kabru shifted his feet, feeling the weight of her words settling over him like a net. He had a good idea where this was heading, and the implications made his skin prickle.Mithrun. Of course, it would be Mithrun. The agent everyone whispered about, the one with a list of ex-partners longer than his record of cases solved in the blink of an eye. A wonderful person to talk to and gain insight from, no doubt, but hardly one you’d like to babysit. Kabru had seen him in passing, but given…“Mithrun is… unique,” she continued, choosing her words carefully, but Kabru caught the gleam of challenge beneath her tone. “He just needs a partner who can work with him rather than against him.”
Kabru held her gaze, refusing to show even a flicker of hesitation. “And you believe that is for me?”“You’re resilient, Kabru. Isn’t that what you’ve been sitting here trying to tell me?” Her eyes bored into him with a quiet intensity that made him feel like she could see right through him. “This is your in. Prove to me that you can be of use after your last failure, and one day I may let you scrub your hands of him.”This was a test. He could feel it in every unspoken challenge behind her words. Refusing the assignment wasn’t an option—not if he wanted to hold his place here, to prove himself capable and grounded. But walking into a partnership with Mithrun? That felt like stepping into quicksand with how fast Evers gave up his job entirely.Kabru took a slow breath, steadying himself. “Fine, but I’ll need support should there be-”She raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of incredulity mixed with amusement. “You’ll have the full backing of the department, as long as you show initiative. But remember, the path you’re walking is one of accountability.”I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.I take ownership of my mistakes and work to rectify them.“You’re not just responsible for your own actions but also for the results of your partnership. If it doesn’t work out, I can’t promise you another chance.”The implication was clear. This was a make-or-break moment, one that would define his career and his future in this line of work. Always so cut and dry. He could feel a hand on his arm, but he didn’t budge an inch. A voice whispered in his ear. Her trash can hadn’t stopped smoking. The blinds were bent on the eighth and ninth rung. Shut up. Shut up. “Understood.”