Whiplash | jjk.

[11]: Opened Doors

[A/N] lets all collectively agree to ignore the fact that proper police training takes at least 4 years lmao

ANOTHER SIX MONTHS LATER

Three days into your new, well-earned employment, your body is still filled with the same excitement from when you first begun.

You were more focused than ever.

Although things had been slow-moving, they had been moving.

Progress is progress, no matter how hard you are on yourself.

You barely recognised the person you had become.

Strict and disciplined; healthy and fit. You had put on muscle, while also improving your cardiac stamina. Your skin was tanner from all the time spent in the sun, your diet was good. Your skills tripled, and your mentality was reinforced by your gradual improvements.

You found your confidence.

And, magically, you discovered that you seemed to have a natural talent for this lifestyle.

You had gone through all the training regimens that are required to join the force, and had been carried to term. From six-AM to eleven-PM five days a week, you focused on the physical aspect of training with a team of mentors, and other aspiring officers. You learned safe knife-handling, melee weapon and circulation of arms, restriction techniques, and emotion-suppressing by learning to overcome lie detectors. You did it all.

You had trained hard, and it had paid off.

You had your foot in the door.

And finally, at the end of it, you had been placed in the Violent Crimes division.

Sitting at your station, you stare at your desktop. Before you, there is stacks and piles of papers, and files. The work load hadn't been huge, but the paperwork was definitely suffocating.

You lean back into your office chair, pushing your reading glasses up onto your head. You take a deep breath and look around you, at the other officers in your division. One of them catches your eye, and you smile at him.

Then, focusing, and lost in thought, you look forward again.

No time like the present, I guess.

And with that, you stand from your chair. Your poker face is firm and unfaltering, as you march away from your desk. You have a file in your hand as you make your way to the third floor of the building.

Three minutes later, you make it to your destination.

Quietly, you stand in front of the glass door, looking to the inside. It seems to be vacant, as the lights are off. You drop your shoulders, disappointed with the fact that you might have missed your chance again.

Then, two halting footsteps come from behind you.

"Corporal Sohn Haru."

You spin around, straightening up your spine and holding your hands by your side.

There he is.

Tall and menacing. The man is very young, considering his position on the force. His hair is dark blonde, and his stature is radiating dominion. It seems as though the weight of his authority rests alone on his broad shoulders, he carries himself in such a way, it's almost like he could be immortal.

There was something so breath-taking about him. And not just the fact that he is so much higher than you in the force.

He is power.