Detective Ajin

A reporter

I smile at Tosaki, hoping to get this over with. All the other reporters fell head over heels for him. It kinda amused me, how much lust was aimed at him. Now it's just annoying. I walk forward, only to get shoved by another reporter. I close my eyes for a moment, waiting for my arms to hit the unforgiving cement below me. My eyes snap open when a hand grabs my wrist and instead of harsh cement my hands rest on a warm chest. Specifically, Tosaki's chest. I blush angrily.

"Uh, s-sorry, Tosaki-san." I back away, before glaring at the reporter that shoved me. How pointless. I never wanted to be a reporter, I wanted to be a detective. My mother got what she wanted though, and I failed to do what I want. Failed to be who I wanted to be.

"It's fine, as long as you're okay." I nod meekly, easily vanishing in a crowd of reporters. They didn't catch the Ajin yet? Isn't it obvious where he is?

"No, it's not. Do you know?" I look up to see Tosaki. I duck my head in embarrassment. I said that aloud?! And I disappeared, why'd he follow me? Shit, did I say it that loudly?

"Oh, uh, s-sorry, T-tousaki-san. I uh, was just thinking aloud, is all. It's like a criminal, isn't it? If a criminal were trying to run from cops, they'd go to the most deserted place in the closest area, right? Where no one would be likely to see the news, or care if there's a bounty. That- oh, I'm rambling. U-uh, s-so-sorry, I uh, sorry." I blush, looking down.

How could I make a mistake like that?! I'm just a measly reporter! How could I be smarter than a government person? I'll get in so much trouble for this. My life is over! What a stupid mistake...

I walk away while I still can, feeling other reporter's glares on my back. The man's assistant runs up just as I'm about to get on my motorcycle. She hands me a paper and walks away without a word. I put the paper in my pocket and ride away, helmet on my head firmly.

I ride far above the speed limit, motorcycle speeding up the mountain that my house is on.

Distracted by my thoughts, I don't notice the other motorcycle and get rammed into, feeling my motorcycle crush me, blood leaving my half crushed body. What a waste, my life was. Now I'm going to die halfway up a mountainside.

I don't die. It hurts, but soon my body is fine under my motorcycle, as if I didn't get crushed.

My eyes widen. I'm an Ajin. Fuck, I can't let anyone know!

I groan, making sure to slice my arm and rub the back of my head as I struggle to push my bike off of me. When I look up, it's the Ajin and some blond.

I stare at them. They stare back.

"You're an Ajin too?" I shake my head, pointing at my sliced arm.

"No, I'm just lucky. I think a few ribs are broken, so I can't chase you. Good luck, immortal." I say, collapsing on my back. I can hear them drive off. I hate people, sometimes. I sit up, pushing my motorcycle up and getting on it. I drive the rest of the way to my house on the mountain.

I'm an Ajin. Well, fuck. As long as no one finds out, I guess. When I get home, I take the now bloodied paper out of my pocket and read it.

"What the fuck is that? A cafe?" I murmur, glaring at the paper. It's this paper's fault that I figured out that I'm an Ajin. Wait, what?

Meet me at Chocolate's Delight. 5am sharp. I glare at the paper again. Who the hell tells someone to be at a place at 5? Can I just tell him to fuck off?

I sigh, collapsing on my couch, vision blurring to black.

When I wake up, it's dark out. What time is it? I look at my phone. It's 3. If I were to speed, it'd take an hour to get down the mountain, and I should probably look around to find the café so I'm not late. Damn, I wanna go back to sleep...

I stand up, taking a quick shower before getting dressed in a black shirt with faded black jeans, leather black fingerless gloves, and a peppered zip up hoodie.

Pulling my long brown hair into a low ponytail, I put on my black and white steel toed shoes and walk out the door towards my motorcycle.

I frown at the scratches in the paint, running my hand over the singular dent. Sighing, I hop on my motorcycle and ride down the mountain.

By the time I find the café it's quarter to five, and no one's there. I roll my eyes, walking in to the 24-hour café. I didn't even know such a thing existed. Ordering two cups of coffee, a cup of their special hot chocolate, and a slice of cheesecake.

I'm glad to say I only stuttered five times in that sentence. I sit down in a corner and wait for my order. It comes five minutes before five, and I drink the coffee after putting vanilla creamer in it.

By the time Tosaki arrives, I'm on to my hot chocolate, everything else finished and taken away. I'm still tired.

"G-good mor-morning, T-t-tosaki-san." I stutter, making no efforts not to. He hums at me. Oh, too high and mighty to say morning then. Whatever. I yawn tiredly, stretching.

"What are you wearing?" He asks distastefully. I hum, looking at what I'm wearing. Clothes, asshole.

"O-oh. S-sorry, T-Tosaki-san. It's c-cold in the m-mornings where I live, and I r-ride a mot-motorcycle." He frowns at me, sitting down.

"N-not to be r-rude, but why do y-you care?" Tosaki looks down at me.

"You can't work with me wearing that."