Risky Safety Investigation
Risky Safety Investigation (RSI) is a Risky/Safety fanfiction involving Risky, Safety, and a police officer.
PG/PG-13 ish for crime and death.
Thanks to mistr3ssquickly for helping me get started.
Detective Natsume pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. "Boy this place is dead," he said to himself. "I don't know why they always have me patrol here Friday nights. Everyone's always off doing something exciting. Somewhere else." He sighed, dejectedly.
"But your job is very important," piped up a little voice from right next to him, "And police officers are needed everywhere!"
"C'mon Ishikawa, you sound like my wife when she's having pity on me." He turned to face his partner, but found the passenger's seat to be empty. "Right, he traded shifts to take tonight off. Daughter's dance recital."
He reached behind the seat, pulling out a clipboard. He gazed at the smiling face of his own daughter at the top of the stack of papers, smiled back at it, and then shuffled it to the bottom. He furrowed his brow, concentrating on the night's schedule, checking off a few more items on a depressingly long list.
"My own daughter is halfway through of junior high. I haven't gone to one of her piano recitals since ... what, last year? Is she even doing that anymore?" He flipped the next page. Nope, no change, still the same old patrol through the same old dark streets. "I must be losing my mind. I'm talking to myself. And I'm hearing answers." He reached for the door and stepped out. "I oughta look into early retirement."
"But Detective Natsume, sir, your daughter is very proud of what you do," said the little voice, "Why just today, I heard her tell my friend Moe ..."
Natsume slammed his door shut, and started searching his pocket for enough change for coffee. But he stopped when he noticed through the window a young man leveling a shotgun at the cashier.
"Holy shit, how do these kids get their hands on those things?" He opened up his squad car, sat down, and grabbed the radio. "We've got an armed robbery in progress at the Microstop at Cherry and 51st street. Send backup." He hung up without waiting for a response.
"Armed robbery!" cried out a muffled voice from below, "Oh, do be careful!"
Natsume stood up, and slowly and carefully approached the store, gun drawn. His first step jarred a tiny angel loose from the rather large seat of his pants, who drifted lazily to the ground like a piece of paper. She stood up, brushed herself off, and flew after him.
When Natsume arrived at the door, he young punk was already out of sight. The cashier was still shaking, and still holding his arms up, but he managed to point to the back aisle.
"Damn, he must have seen me," he said under his breath, "He's got to be making for the emergency exit."
"Oh, I do hope nobody gets hurt," said the angel, hovering behind him.
"Normally voices in people's heads are nasty things, telling people hate their friends and family, and kill others and themselves, and make life hard for honest police officers," Natsume said. "If I gotta get voices in my head, this is the way to go. I wonder what I should call you." He crept toward the back aisle, covering each aisle with his gun as he went.
"Oh, pardon me for not introducing myself earlier. I am Apprentice Angel Safety, and I am very pleased to meet you. Yorishiku baby, desuno!" She bowed while still flying forward, and gently collided with Natsume's back.
"Great, now I'm feeling things, too." He peeked around the corner, and caught a glimpse of the young man's back. "OK, he still has the gun, but I've got him by surprise."
He turned the corner, brandishing his gun in front of him. "Freeze! Drop the gun, now!"
For the first time, Natsume got a good look at him. The skinny young man had bleached blonde hair, and was wearing a jeans jacket with patches from American brand names stitched on. His shotgun was pointed toward the floor, where Natsume could see the store's stock boy lying face down, his hands locked together over his head.
Keeping his gun trained on the hapless store employee, he turned slowly to face the policeman. "Hey, pig," he spat, "Back off, or I blow his head off." He grinned maliciously.
"Oh, how horrible," said Safety, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
So I finally got one pointing a gun at me, Akira thought. He glanced back and forth between the police officer at the other end of the aisle and the terrified stock boy crying at his feet. Piece of cake. I got a hostage, and I'm just five steps from the back door.
"I mean it! Back off!" He glared at the policeman, but was surprised to see that his face was now obscured by a black piece of paper. The paper delicately leapt off of him to the floor below, and slowly advanced on him.
"Let's see," said a voice behind the paper, "Akira Watanabe, these coordinates place him just a couple more meters this way." It stopped at the head of the terrified stock boy. A tiny boot emerged from under the paper and kicked him in the nose. "Hey, are you Akira?"
The only response was a low moan.
Akira spoke up. "I'm Akira."
"A-ha!" The mysterious black paper started folding up.
"OK, Akira, I'm Detective Natsume. Just put the gun down, nobody has to get hurt today." He seemed totally oblivious to the tiny presence at Akira's feet.
The paper finished folding up, and was placed into a wide-brimmed black hat. The hat itself was placed onto the head of a tiny person dressed almost entirely in black. Her large black boots and black skirt matched her black hair, and contrasted with a broad brown leather belt.
"I am Apprentice Shinigami Risky! I know that you're in a world of hurt, and believe me; not even robbing a convenience store will get you out. It's times like these that you just want to give up on life, and that's where I come in!" She spun a toothpick-sized scythe above her head, and leveled it at Akira.
"Do you honestly expect to kill me with that thing?" Akira chuckled.
Natsume kept his gun trained on him. "I could kill you, but I don't want to. Just put the gun down, and I won't have to." His eyes and his voice were filled with a calm confidence.
Akira idly kicked at Risky, who evaded by leaping onto the gun. She noticed that the gun was trembling in his hand.
"Hey show a little respect. I'm a real shinigami, even if I'm still an apprentice. Now listen up." She stood in Akira's hand and pointed a finger at him. "I know why you're doing this, and it's not going to work. That 10,000 yen you have there isn't nearly enough, and you're not going to get away with a just a black eye like last time."
"What? How do you know ..." he took a step backward.
Risky spun her scythe over her head, and poked the butt-end into the glass door to the refrigerator case. An image of Akira talking to a very large, very strong looking man appeared in the glass.
"Pay up," said Risky, imitating a gruff voice, as the large man moved his mouth. "You're already three weeks behind."
"But Mr. Okazaki, I'm giving you everything I can, honest," replied Risky in a squeaky, whining voice, as the Akira in the glass pleaded.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by two more police officers entering the Microstop. One talked briefly to the cashier, who was escorted out of the building.
"Oh, officer, I'm so happy to see you. I'm so very happy I can go now," the cashier said. Risky winced each time she heard the word "happy." The image faded away, and Risky clutched the gun, barely avoiding falling down.
"I'm just happy to do my job. Good to see nobody's hurt," replied the police officer with a smile.
This was too much for Risky. She dropped to the ground, and vanished.
Natsume noticed that Akira had stopped watching him, and was instead staring at the fridge next to him. Is he planning on stealing beer too? I don't dare make a move yet. He's still got a gun, and he seems unstable enough to kill someone. Best to play it safe for awhile.
"Be careful," he called out to his colleagues, "He's got a hostage."
When he looked back at Akira, he was shocked to see a tiny human-shaped figure clad in white flying slowly toward him.
"Hello again Detective Natsume. It's good to have the chance to work with you again." Safety flew up to the shelf beside him and landed, sitting on a block of ramen noodles.
"As I was saying, your daughter Suzuko is very proud that her father is a police officer. And she's not having any problems in school. In fact, she scored best in the class on her last three tests, and even has time to help two of her friends study." Safety smiled brilliantly.
"But she's my daughter," he said under his breath, "I should be there for her. I should spend more time with her."
"But you do spend time with her. You don't work every night, you spend most of your weekends with her, and you even get up the same time she does so you can see her off to school. And it doesn't matter to her that you can't be there every time she plays the piano -- her mother is the one who encouraged her to do that anyway."
Natsume took a good close look at Safety. "But, I'm still not sure. It doesn't quite feel right." He sighed.
"Then I will give a blessing to you and your family, to help you stay happy together always." Safety cleared her throat, placed one hand on her hip, and raised the other above her head. She began to chant, "Angel, neru neru neru," but stopped when she heard a crash coming from further down the aisle.
Safety and Natsume looked down the aisle, to find that several bottles of beer had fallen out of the fridge and broken, and Akira was nowhere to be seen.
"Damn it, why do I have to be distracted by worthless figments of my imagination! I am so stupid!" Natsume stormed down the aisle.
"Hey, that's not very nice," complained Safety. "You shouldn't say such mean things about yourself. You're not stupid, really!"
"I let that bastard get away, all because I was going crazy!"
"No, please!" Safety gasped in shock, and vanished.
Akira rushed out the back door, clutching his shotgun in one hand, and his beer in the other. He ran down streets and alleys, and collapsed in a doorway. He opened a bottle of beer, drank it without stopping, and threw the empty toward a nearby dumpster, which it shattered against.
"Aw, man, what am I doing? That crazy little black doll is right. Okazaki won't wait. He's gonna kill me."
"I'm not a doll, I'm a shinigami." Risky marched into view. "But you're right about one thing. Your life is totally hopeless, so you might as well give up now. Give me your soul!" She leveled her scythe at him.
Akira opened another bottle, and drank this one in gulps.
"Yeah, and if I let Okazaki get me, he'll literally tear me apart." He gulped some beer. "I can't let him do that. I wanna die with at least a little dignity."
"Well, I'm a very distinguished shinigami, so I'd be perfect. So let me have your soul!"
He drank the rest of the bottle, and dropped it. He pointed the shotgun at his chin, and stretched his arm to reach the trigger.
"What! Oh no you don't! You're mine!" Risky charged toward him, and waving her scythe above her head, and leapt at his belly.
Natsume was the one who found the body. The sound of the gunshot led him right to it. He had seen other people killed with shotguns before, but this one was different, in that it seemed totally accidental. Akira had not actually pulled the trigger; it went off when he dropped it. The coroner ruled that he had died of a heart attack.
At the end of his shift, he talked to his superior, who agreed to take him off of the Friday night shift, so he could spend that time with his family.
And later that week, both Risky and Safety received messages from their superiors, informing both that they had earned 400 points.
PG/PG-13 ish for crime and death.
Thanks to mistr3ssquickly for helping me get started.
Detective Natsume pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. "Boy this place is dead," he said to himself. "I don't know why they always have me patrol here Friday nights. Everyone's always off doing something exciting. Somewhere else." He sighed, dejectedly.
"But your job is very important," piped up a little voice from right next to him, "And police officers are needed everywhere!"
"C'mon Ishikawa, you sound like my wife when she's having pity on me." He turned to face his partner, but found the passenger's seat to be empty. "Right, he traded shifts to take tonight off. Daughter's dance recital."
He reached behind the seat, pulling out a clipboard. He gazed at the smiling face of his own daughter at the top of the stack of papers, smiled back at it, and then shuffled it to the bottom. He furrowed his brow, concentrating on the night's schedule, checking off a few more items on a depressingly long list.
"My own daughter is halfway through of junior high. I haven't gone to one of her piano recitals since ... what, last year? Is she even doing that anymore?" He flipped the next page. Nope, no change, still the same old patrol through the same old dark streets. "I must be losing my mind. I'm talking to myself. And I'm hearing answers." He reached for the door and stepped out. "I oughta look into early retirement."
"But Detective Natsume, sir, your daughter is very proud of what you do," said the little voice, "Why just today, I heard her tell my friend Moe ..."
Natsume slammed his door shut, and started searching his pocket for enough change for coffee. But he stopped when he noticed through the window a young man leveling a shotgun at the cashier.
"Holy shit, how do these kids get their hands on those things?" He opened up his squad car, sat down, and grabbed the radio. "We've got an armed robbery in progress at the Microstop at Cherry and 51st street. Send backup." He hung up without waiting for a response.
"Armed robbery!" cried out a muffled voice from below, "Oh, do be careful!"
Natsume stood up, and slowly and carefully approached the store, gun drawn. His first step jarred a tiny angel loose from the rather large seat of his pants, who drifted lazily to the ground like a piece of paper. She stood up, brushed herself off, and flew after him.
When Natsume arrived at the door, he young punk was already out of sight. The cashier was still shaking, and still holding his arms up, but he managed to point to the back aisle.
"Damn, he must have seen me," he said under his breath, "He's got to be making for the emergency exit."
"Oh, I do hope nobody gets hurt," said the angel, hovering behind him.
"Normally voices in people's heads are nasty things, telling people hate their friends and family, and kill others and themselves, and make life hard for honest police officers," Natsume said. "If I gotta get voices in my head, this is the way to go. I wonder what I should call you." He crept toward the back aisle, covering each aisle with his gun as he went.
"Oh, pardon me for not introducing myself earlier. I am Apprentice Angel Safety, and I am very pleased to meet you. Yorishiku baby, desuno!" She bowed while still flying forward, and gently collided with Natsume's back.
"Great, now I'm feeling things, too." He peeked around the corner, and caught a glimpse of the young man's back. "OK, he still has the gun, but I've got him by surprise."
He turned the corner, brandishing his gun in front of him. "Freeze! Drop the gun, now!"
For the first time, Natsume got a good look at him. The skinny young man had bleached blonde hair, and was wearing a jeans jacket with patches from American brand names stitched on. His shotgun was pointed toward the floor, where Natsume could see the store's stock boy lying face down, his hands locked together over his head.
Keeping his gun trained on the hapless store employee, he turned slowly to face the policeman. "Hey, pig," he spat, "Back off, or I blow his head off." He grinned maliciously.
"Oh, how horrible," said Safety, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
So I finally got one pointing a gun at me, Akira thought. He glanced back and forth between the police officer at the other end of the aisle and the terrified stock boy crying at his feet. Piece of cake. I got a hostage, and I'm just five steps from the back door.
"I mean it! Back off!" He glared at the policeman, but was surprised to see that his face was now obscured by a black piece of paper. The paper delicately leapt off of him to the floor below, and slowly advanced on him.
"Let's see," said a voice behind the paper, "Akira Watanabe, these coordinates place him just a couple more meters this way." It stopped at the head of the terrified stock boy. A tiny boot emerged from under the paper and kicked him in the nose. "Hey, are you Akira?"
The only response was a low moan.
Akira spoke up. "I'm Akira."
"A-ha!" The mysterious black paper started folding up.
"OK, Akira, I'm Detective Natsume. Just put the gun down, nobody has to get hurt today." He seemed totally oblivious to the tiny presence at Akira's feet.
The paper finished folding up, and was placed into a wide-brimmed black hat. The hat itself was placed onto the head of a tiny person dressed almost entirely in black. Her large black boots and black skirt matched her black hair, and contrasted with a broad brown leather belt.
"I am Apprentice Shinigami Risky! I know that you're in a world of hurt, and believe me; not even robbing a convenience store will get you out. It's times like these that you just want to give up on life, and that's where I come in!" She spun a toothpick-sized scythe above her head, and leveled it at Akira.
"Do you honestly expect to kill me with that thing?" Akira chuckled.
Natsume kept his gun trained on him. "I could kill you, but I don't want to. Just put the gun down, and I won't have to." His eyes and his voice were filled with a calm confidence.
Akira idly kicked at Risky, who evaded by leaping onto the gun. She noticed that the gun was trembling in his hand.
"Hey show a little respect. I'm a real shinigami, even if I'm still an apprentice. Now listen up." She stood in Akira's hand and pointed a finger at him. "I know why you're doing this, and it's not going to work. That 10,000 yen you have there isn't nearly enough, and you're not going to get away with a just a black eye like last time."
"What? How do you know ..." he took a step backward.
Risky spun her scythe over her head, and poked the butt-end into the glass door to the refrigerator case. An image of Akira talking to a very large, very strong looking man appeared in the glass.
"Pay up," said Risky, imitating a gruff voice, as the large man moved his mouth. "You're already three weeks behind."
"But Mr. Okazaki, I'm giving you everything I can, honest," replied Risky in a squeaky, whining voice, as the Akira in the glass pleaded.
Suddenly, they were interrupted by two more police officers entering the Microstop. One talked briefly to the cashier, who was escorted out of the building.
"Oh, officer, I'm so happy to see you. I'm so very happy I can go now," the cashier said. Risky winced each time she heard the word "happy." The image faded away, and Risky clutched the gun, barely avoiding falling down.
"I'm just happy to do my job. Good to see nobody's hurt," replied the police officer with a smile.
This was too much for Risky. She dropped to the ground, and vanished.
Natsume noticed that Akira had stopped watching him, and was instead staring at the fridge next to him. Is he planning on stealing beer too? I don't dare make a move yet. He's still got a gun, and he seems unstable enough to kill someone. Best to play it safe for awhile.
"Be careful," he called out to his colleagues, "He's got a hostage."
When he looked back at Akira, he was shocked to see a tiny human-shaped figure clad in white flying slowly toward him.
"Hello again Detective Natsume. It's good to have the chance to work with you again." Safety flew up to the shelf beside him and landed, sitting on a block of ramen noodles.
"As I was saying, your daughter Suzuko is very proud that her father is a police officer. And she's not having any problems in school. In fact, she scored best in the class on her last three tests, and even has time to help two of her friends study." Safety smiled brilliantly.
"But she's my daughter," he said under his breath, "I should be there for her. I should spend more time with her."
"But you do spend time with her. You don't work every night, you spend most of your weekends with her, and you even get up the same time she does so you can see her off to school. And it doesn't matter to her that you can't be there every time she plays the piano -- her mother is the one who encouraged her to do that anyway."
Natsume took a good close look at Safety. "But, I'm still not sure. It doesn't quite feel right." He sighed.
"Then I will give a blessing to you and your family, to help you stay happy together always." Safety cleared her throat, placed one hand on her hip, and raised the other above her head. She began to chant, "Angel, neru neru neru," but stopped when she heard a crash coming from further down the aisle.
Safety and Natsume looked down the aisle, to find that several bottles of beer had fallen out of the fridge and broken, and Akira was nowhere to be seen.
"Damn it, why do I have to be distracted by worthless figments of my imagination! I am so stupid!" Natsume stormed down the aisle.
"Hey, that's not very nice," complained Safety. "You shouldn't say such mean things about yourself. You're not stupid, really!"
"I let that bastard get away, all because I was going crazy!"
"No, please!" Safety gasped in shock, and vanished.
Akira rushed out the back door, clutching his shotgun in one hand, and his beer in the other. He ran down streets and alleys, and collapsed in a doorway. He opened a bottle of beer, drank it without stopping, and threw the empty toward a nearby dumpster, which it shattered against.
"Aw, man, what am I doing? That crazy little black doll is right. Okazaki won't wait. He's gonna kill me."
"I'm not a doll, I'm a shinigami." Risky marched into view. "But you're right about one thing. Your life is totally hopeless, so you might as well give up now. Give me your soul!" She leveled her scythe at him.
Akira opened another bottle, and drank this one in gulps.
"Yeah, and if I let Okazaki get me, he'll literally tear me apart." He gulped some beer. "I can't let him do that. I wanna die with at least a little dignity."
"Well, I'm a very distinguished shinigami, so I'd be perfect. So let me have your soul!"
He drank the rest of the bottle, and dropped it. He pointed the shotgun at his chin, and stretched his arm to reach the trigger.
"What! Oh no you don't! You're mine!" Risky charged toward him, and waving her scythe above her head, and leapt at his belly.
Natsume was the one who found the body. The sound of the gunshot led him right to it. He had seen other people killed with shotguns before, but this one was different, in that it seemed totally accidental. Akira had not actually pulled the trigger; it went off when he dropped it. The coroner ruled that he had died of a heart attack.
At the end of his shift, he talked to his superior, who agreed to take him off of the Friday night shift, so he could spend that time with his family.
And later that week, both Risky and Safety received messages from their superiors, informing both that they had earned 400 points.