Just My Type [Daichi Sawamura x OC]

Chapter 8: The Great Mouse Detective

"God damnit," Daichi swore loudly, "there has to be something." He shuffled through the papers strewn across the desk once more, then swore again.

To the rest of the officers in the precinct, it looked like Daichi was hard at work. Much like the desks of his superiors, the intern had piles of notes stacked haphazardly in front of him, which he was sorting through while taking fresh notes on a coffee stained page. A few of the men still in the office nodded their heads in approval at the dedication their hoodlum intern had been showing in the past few weeks to the paper-pushing jobs they'd assigned him.

However, if any of them actually took the time to read what was on the pages Daichi was crumpling into balls, they might not have been so pleased. Sure, most of the documents at his desk were for case reports or notes from the responding officers, but the small amount hidden underneath these, and the only ones he was really looking through, had nothing to do with detective work.

Daichi flipped back to the first page once more, staring angrily again at the line of text he'd copied from the typewriter, and the scribbles of notes he'd added to it.

I will never be a poem,
beautifully written and composed
I will never be a song,
remembered and euphonious
I will never be a novel,
coherent and captivating

I will forever be the unwritten thought
the half-finished story
the long forgotten melody

The short poem sat innocently in the middle of the page, offering no help whatsoever in answering the questions swirling around his mind. Yet somehow Daichi knew, this was familiar. Not just because he'd been staring at it for days, trying to figure out the voice that spoke behind the words, but because it felt like he already knew. It just sounded like something she would say; with her head tilted down to hide a blush and her voice barely audible even to him. It was Jun. It had to be Jun. Right?

Daichi had spent the majority of his week trying to prove his hunch. And for once, he was glad to have been assigned to desk duties at work, because it meant more time pouring over the evidence and spitefully utilizing police resources in the process. However, the extra time pouring over the pages only made the answers seem more elusive. In one sense, it all connected beautifully. Jun worked at the bookstore, and would have no trouble finding the time to stop and type a quick note in between shelving books. Not to mention he knew she'd be familiar enough with the poets and authors that the typist chose. But on the other hand, Jun didn't strike him as someone who could keep a secret like this; she had barely been able to keep a straight face when Suga had asked if his most recent argumentative essay had been any good. And besides, statistically speaking, if it was someone like Jun, who spent almost all of her free time at the bookstore, there was no way he wouldn't have run into her at some point by the typewriter and caught her red handed.

The anxious tap tap tapping of his pen against the page finally slowed and Daichi sighed heavily. He knew it was fruitless to even keep pursuing the truth at this point, but he couldn't let it go. In the grand scheme of things, Daichi had only been conversing with the mystery typist for a pretty short period, but he had never felt such a deep connection with anyone. And maybe it was because it felt so familiar to the unacknowledged feelings he'd been experiencing towards Jun, but he had been hoping they'd be one in the same person. Crumpling the now ink stained page, Daichi half heartedly tossed it into the bin by his desk and began searching his coat pocket for the pack of cigarettes. He should've known better by now than to get his hopes up. Life had never been that kind to him, so why would it all change now?

"Yeah, right through there, desk by the window."

Detective Sato's normally rough voice seemed uncharacteristically soft, making every head turn towards the door curiously. Dressed for the cold in a puffy pink coat, thick scarf, and holding what could only be assumed was coffee, Jun gave Sato a muffled 'thank you' before hastily shuffling forward to Daichi's desk, the heads of the curious officers following her. Despite half her face being covered by a scarf, her smile was evident as she greeted him. "Morning Daichi."