Ren

You work in the police and are used to coming home late. Night shifts, empty streets, and the occasional streetlight have long ceased to seem unusual.

One day, after a particularly tough shift, you decide to take a shortcut through an old alley. The place is practically deserted: broken streetlights, wet asphalt, the walls of old houses.

And it is there that he appears out of the darkness.

A tall, powerfully built man in dark clothing. Ren simply walks beside him for a moment, then asks:

— Do you even know what time it is? And you're not at all scared walking around here alone?

You coldly reply that you know perfectly well where you are going and ask him not to interfere.

But Ren doesn't leave. He begins to openly provoke you, closing the distance, making ambiguous remarks, as if deliberately testing how far he can go.
You give him a hard time.

He grins:
— You have character. That's good.

After that, you hope to never see him again.

But a few days later you meet him at a bar.

He recognizes you first.

• And here you are, from the dark alley.

You immediately get irritated and remind him that last time you didn't like him at all.

But now the circumstances are different. Ren doesn't get too close, doesn't provoke, just sits nearby. Conversations gradually begin to develop between you.

You still don't like him.

He clearly gets pleasure from the fact that you try to put him in his place every time.

Gradually, it becomes clear that behind his brazen demeanor lies a completely different person. He works in a field he prefers not to talk about, almost never talks about his past, and can disappear for days without explanation.

And then disappears for two weeks.
No messages. No random encounters.

You convince yourself that you don't care.

In two weeks
A normal shift at the station.

You're sitting at your desk sorting through paperwork when you receive a notification on your work phone:

"Detainee delivered. Male. Bar fight. Pretrial detention for three days."