As a Police Officer, I'm Always Worrying About Something - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Seven Years Before the Ke Era (Part 2)

After successfully passing the entrance exam, Chinna, Miwako, and Yumi entered the police academy.

On the first day of school, Chinna dragged her suitcase and successfully found her dorm room.

She then discovered that Miwako lived to her left, and Yumi to her right.

The three of them quickly tidied up their rooms, got dressed in uniform, and chatted happily as they walked to the opening ceremony.

“Ah-la, Miwako and Chinna look super cool in uniform!” Yumi said as she sized the two up, rubbing her chin and nodding in approval.

“You look great too, Yumi,” Miwako said, linking arms with her.

“Exactly!” Chinna linked arms on Yumi’s other side. “Yumi, you’re really pretty too.”

“Speaking of which, as the freshman representative…” Yumi poked Chinna’s cheek, “how’s your speech coming along?”

“Ugh,” Chinna groaned. “Not great. You know how bad I am with writing. I even had to ask a relative who’s good with words to help me just to fill out the required length.”

“I can already picture Chinna biting her pen cap, deep in thought! Hahaha!” Yumi laughed mercilessly at her.

“Did you memorize the whole thing, though?” Miwako asked, concerned. “It’s better to go up there without your notes.”

“Of course I—” Chinna dragged out her words dramatically, “memorized it all~! Even though I didn’t expect Uncle Yusaku’s draft to be so long, I still got it down!”

“…Now let’s welcome freshman representative Fujimine Chinna to the stage for her speech.” As the announcement echoed, and with her friends’ supportive gazes behind her, Chinna took a deep breath, calmed her nerves, and walked up with steady steps.

“Hello everyone. I’m Fujimine Chinna, the freshman representative… With courage and a sense of honor and purpose… we vow to protect the safety of the people… Thank you.”

After finishing her speech, Chinna stepped down from the stage to the warm applause of her classmates and the admiring looks of her friends.

The rest of the day was light—just the ceremony, dorm and class assignments.

Fortunately, Miwako, Chinna, and Yumi were placed in the same class—Instructor Hachizou Onizuka’s class.

The next morning, the sleepy Yumi was dragged out of bed by Miwako and Chinna, grumbling as she got up and started her morning routine.

Although Yumi took her time waking up, the three still managed to make it on time.

They stood straight in formation until their instructor arrived and stood in front of the group.

With his hands behind his back, Hachizou Onizuka surveyed the line. He looked slightly longer at the only three female recruits in the group, clearly pleased that there were no troublemakers in this cohort.

Still, he had to say it: “Alright, you little punks, listen up. Based on what happened last term, here at the police academy we strictly forbid unauthorized disassembly of firearms, illegal street racing, and gathering outside convenience stores to stir up trouble—”

“And the most important rule, absolutely no disarming bombs off-campus without authorization—”

Though he didn’t elaborate, his wicked grin said plenty.

“Wow, last year’s class was wild,” Chinna whispered.

“Pfft—” Yumi couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“You, the girl over there—” Instructor Onizuka fixed his gaze on Yumi. “What’s so funny? Go on, share with the rest of us!”

Startled, Yumi blurted out, “Sir! I got bitten by a mosquito and it was too itchy—I couldn’t help it!” That got even more people laughing.

“What’s so funny!” Instructor Onizuka tightly pinched his own fingers behind his back, trying not to laugh too. “Everyone in Onizuka’s class—add five… make that three extra laps.”

Clearly, that wasn’t the real reason but he kept the punishment light, especially since there were girls in the group.

Time passed at its own steady pace. One day, Chinna got a notice about overdue electricity bills at the apartment she had rented during university.

Before entering the academy, she had assumed they’d get weekends off, so she’d stocked up on groceries—but since they hadn’t had any breaks so far, her fridge was working overtime… and her bill hadn’t been paid.

Not wanting to request leave, Chinna quietly climbed over the wall that evening and headed to a nearby auto shop to pick up her car that had been stored there.

It was a silver Honda NSX, a gift from her mother for her eighteenth birthday.

She slipped the key in and leisurely drove back to the apartment.

After dropping off her rent and utility payments into her landlord’s mailbox, Chinna returned to her unit, planning to clean out the spoiled food in the fridge.

As she opened the door, she caught sight of a small red light in the corner of her eye—very well hidden.

Thinking it might be a stalker’s or crazed fan’s camera, she walked over to check and discovered a bomb. Faced with the choice between calling the police or her familiar Inspector Megure, Chinna immediately went with the latter.

After all, calling emergency services meant filling out all sorts of paperwork.

Chinna pulled out her phone and called Inspector Megure, explained the situation, and completely ignored his warning: “Don’t do anything rash!”

Knowing how impulsive Chinna could be, Megure contacted the bomb squad and warned them to brace for surprises. They scrambled into action, even bringing two team leads along.

“…Well, Instructor Onizuka did say we’re supposed to call this stuff in and not defuse bombs ourselves,” Chinna muttered, grabbing her home toolkit and walking toward the bomb. “But I told Inspector Megure, so that doesn’t really count as doing it on my own… right?”

The bomb had a display screen, but it wasn’t showing any countdown. Not sure whether it might explode before the bomb squad arrived, Chinna decided to try disarming it herself.

She’d picked up bomb defusal basics thanks to hanging around Shinichi, and had reviewed it again during police training.

“Looks tricky, but nothing I can’t handle,” she muttered. With careful precision, she removed the casing, disarmed the components, and gently extracted the explosive material, placing it aside.

Ten minutes later, Kenji Hagiwara and Jinpei Matsuda rushed in after getting an urgent late-night call from their superior only to find the bomb already dismantled, explosive pieces neatly set aside.

Inspector Megure, who arrived a bit later, stared at Chinna with a pounding headache. His freshly awakened brain was already starting to throb.

“I told you not to mess with it, didn’t I?!” Even though he’d expected chaos from her, seeing the deactivated bomb still made his head throb.

“Well…” Chinna said, hands behind her back, head bowed, tapping her toe. “What if it had exploded before you guys got here? You never really know with these things.”

“But Inspector Megure, could you write in the report that the bomb was disarmed by the bomb squad?” Chinna clasped her hands together and looked at him pitifully. “If Instructor Onizuka finds out, I’ll have to write a reflection essay.”

Before Inspector Megure could respond, Jinpei Matsuda couldn’t hold back. “Ha! This kind of thing must! absolutely! be reported to the old man!” He even emphasized the word “must.”

Being called out in the middle of the night already had him in a bad mood, and to find out that a reckless police cadet had disarmed a live bomb completely ignoring the safety of the public and herself only made it worse.

Matsuda’s temper flared. Although Kenji Hagiwara didn’t approve of what Chinna had done either, since no harm was done in the end, he didn’t say much—just tried to calm Matsuda down.

Chinna raised an eyebrow at Matsuda. As a legendary figure from the previous class—and the reason the required word count for reflection essays had skyrocketed—every cadet in her year knew who he was.

Of course, in the version known among current cadets, the troublemakers were Jinpei Matsuda, Kenji Hagiwara, and their cover man, class leader Wataru Date.

“If it weren’t for you three showing off last year,” Chinna said through gritted teeth, clenching her fists, “we’d only have to write 5,000 words. But now it’s 15,000!”

Matsuda and Hagiwara clearly hadn’t realized how much of a shadow they’d left on Instructor Onizuka. Matsuda even let out a snort of laughter.

Hagiwara, as one of the main culprits, looked a bit helpless. After all, he had contributed to the increased word count too. Still, neither of them denied being part of the infamous trio.

“Then be a good girl and go write your fif-teen-thou-sand-word reflection!” Matsuda even dragged out the syllables, clearly enjoying her misery.

He had no patience for someone who disarmed a bomb without any protection or backup. His sarcasm was only toned down because she was a girl.

Just as Chinna was about to argue back, Inspector Megure stepped in to mediate. “Alright, Chinna. I’ll make sure to explain everything in the report. But I can put in a good word with Instructor Onizuka to maybe get your word count reduced.”

Even though the situation was mostly resolved, Chinna wasn’t off the hook. 

Especially not for disarming a bomb without clearing the area. “I had it under control,” Chinna mumbled. “It only takes a few minutes. What if it had exploded before you got here?”

Hearing that, Hagiwara looked back at her, recognition dawning. “Now I remember where I’ve seen Miss Fujimine before.”

Matsuda lazily turned. “Yeah? Where?”

“Right before our graduation ceremony—she’s the girl who almost got into a shouting match with you at the academy gate,” Hagiwara said, poking his childhood friend’s cheek. “You really are childish, Jinpei.”

Meanwhile, Inspector Megure was still questioning Chinna, since the person who planted the bomb hadn’t been caught yet.

Since she’d disarmed the device and might have been near the suspect, she’d not only have to give a statement but also be on standby for the investigation.

“I didn’t see the bomber,” Chinna said as she walked. “I just snuck out to pay my electric bill and clean out the frid—”

Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Disarming the bomb meant 15,000 words. Sneaking out meant another essay.

That’s 30,000 words! Chinna looked utterly defeated, her whole aura turning gray.

Up ahead, Matsuda snorted when he heard she’d snuck out, but didn’t say anything. Hagiwara rubbed his nose guiltily—after all, half the blame for her 30,000-word punishment was on them.

Chinna was too far gone to hear them. Her mind spiraled with thoughts of page counts and punishment. Even as they stepped into the elevator, she was trying to insist she hadn’t seen the culprit and shouldn’t be dragged into this further.

Inspector Megure gave her a side glance. “You don’t have to go, but you still need to give a statement.”

“I’ll do it next time I get a day off! I’ll do all the past ones too!” Chinna declared, practically swearing an oath.

As Shinichi Kudo’s semi-guardian, Chinna often got dragged into cases. Over time, she’d developed a habit of solving the case and then running off with Shinichi to avoid paperwork.

“Don’t even think about it. You’re doing it all today!” Megure said just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Chinna glanced at her position—right at the front. As soon as the doors opened wide enough for one person, she tried to bolt—only to be grabbed by Matsuda’s quick reflexes.

She even bounced off Inspector Megure’s round belly from the momentum.

With no escape, Chinna had no choice but to follow Megure. To prevent her from running again, he even pulled out a pair of handcuffs and waved them in front of her, making her eyes go wide with panic.

Not wanting to be cuffed, Chinna obediently followed behind, shooting a glare at Matsuda.

“Uncle Megure~” she whined, trying to act cute. “My car’s still parked outside. How about I drive myself to the station? I promise I won’t run!”

Megure gave her a look that said, “Do I look like an idiot?”

Chinna tried again. “But my car…”

Hagiwara had noticed the Honda NSX earlier. If not for being on duty, he would’ve taken a closer look.

Now that he had the chance, he wasn’t going to miss it. “If you don’t mind, Miss Fujimine, I can drive it to the station for you.”

With her last option gone, Chinna sighed. Seeing how much Hagiwara liked the car, she handed him the keys.

She actually had a decent impression of Hagiwara—especially compared to the grumpier Matsuda.

Hagiwara ran over to the car, beaming, and tossed the police car keys to Matsuda. “Don’t worry, Miss Fujimine. I’ll get your car to the station in perfect condition.”

In the police car, Chinna blinked and asked, “Officer Hagiwara seems to know a lot about cars. He must be a great driver, right?”

Megure, who was driving, casually replied, “Oh yeah. Back in his academy days, he drove like a race car was about to take off like a plane.”

Then he realized what he’d said and glanced at Chinna’s excited expression in the rearview mirror. Uh-oh.

Trying to recover, he added, “Didn’t you say you hate people who make you write extra essays? He’s one of the main culprits, you know!”

“It’s fine,” Chinna said, eyes sparkling. “If Hagiwara-senpai likes sports cars, I’ve already forgiven him!”

“She even called him senpai…” A bead of sweat rolled down Megure’s temple as he silently mourned for the traffic division’s future.