Make these words come out.

First Impressions

Another day on the job, as usual. Miyamoto groaned, pulling at the hem of his uniform. It's been five years since he's been in the police-force, and honestly, nothing has changed. Problems happen everyday, even after you solve them, something else happens the next day, and frankly; it's annoying. He groggily walked over to a post, laying his back onto it as he watched pedestrians walk past, often waving and greeting him. He just waved back, not trying to exchange conversation much.

Miyamoto Takao is a twenty five year old who has no wife, or kids of his own. He merely left his parents house to fend for himself, and go venture into the 'real-world'. His friends from high-school has either stopped talking to him, or they were always busy with something, besides his close friend Hideki, but otherwise; he was alone. He has had plenty of jobs, mainly another job to compensate with his police work, but it eventually gotten overwhelming for the male before he quit that job; ending up only working for the police.

For some reason, he tended to see people stare at him more often. He did get a haircut last week. Long, silk strand in between his eyes while other strands fell on the sides, framing his face well. His hair is only neck length, so it's not like it was really killing him, in fact it was less work for him. 

What that a gunshot just now?

He hurriedly ran over to the corner, moving past civilians as he gotten to the site. A male was laying in a pool of his own blood, hunching over himself in a fetal position as he was whining out in agony.  Rushing to his side, and bending down to check his pulse.

Good, he still has a good pulse.

"Hey, we're going to have paramedics come soon, so only hold out as long as you can."

"O-Okay.."

It's true that the paramedics were coming fast, he had a fellow pedestrian call them as he went to check up on the other. Though, he possibly shouldn't be worried-- not saying that he shouldn't care--, because it seems to be a non-autery punctured wound. It was in his arm, shoulder to be specific. He stayed beside the male, trying to calm him down with questions and comforting rubs.

"I'm Miyamoto. What's your name?"

"..Hisakawa.." That managed to make the police-officer smile.

"Well, Hisakawa, it is nice to meet you." 

The younger male smiled back in response, smiling as he went to turn onto his side. His hair was a deep brown, about the same color as his own while his eyes were a beautiful light shade of blue. He really couldn't take his own eyes off of them. They hold their own significance of life to them, to show that he was not giving up, in some sort of fashion. Noticing that he was staring, Hisakawa furrowed his brows and looked away, small tint of pink forming on his cheeks.

Well, isn't that embarrassing. He apologized to him before looking back up to see the paramedics rushing over, quickly taking his spot in the situation. He helped pick him up and carry him to the stretcher, securing him in the straps before moving away. Maybe he'll visit him in the hospital, since he knows his surname. Hopefully it will be easy on him. He made sure the ambulance drove off without any issues before heading back to his post. Yeah, visiting him seems like a good idea.

After finishing his work, he gotten in his car to drive to the hospital, not even bothering to change his clothes. Yeah, it's not often that police-officers may do this, but he thought if anything bad were to happen, he could get some word out of him to who did it, and why. Parking his car, he got out, fixing his boots and making sure that his pants weren't lazily tucked in before hurrying to the elevator, pushing the first level to get to the resting area. Upon arrival, he was struck by multiple people, mainly regulars who come and talk to him while he's off on lunch break.