punkly

19:13 The rain poured and the wind howled outside, but inside the Decker Room, nobody paid any attention to it. The door slammed shut, so hard that it vibrated through the ground. It left half of the present persons in shock – the other half seemed to not care in the slightest. Their faces showed no emotion as they stared towards the door as if none of what they had said and done affected them. Commissioner Saejima was stunned into silence. He stared at the door, as though his gaze could penetrate it, mentally following Deckerd's path, though the detective was long gone from the room. A grave feeling settled in his stomach, whispering

Gun Max bumped the door to the Decker Room open with his hip and stepped in, his arms loaded with an apparently heavy cardboard box. "Thanks for opening the door, guys," he announced to his office of teammates. "Ahh, gomen nasai, Gun Max," the captain of the force, Dekkado, replied, standing to help. "I tease, Slick," Gun Max teased with a lopsided grin. He set the box down on his desk and easily tossed McCrane a manila envelope that had been sitting on top of the box. "There's the report on the embezzlement case with the Nakano ward church." "Fantastic," McCrane replied, laying the report on his desk. "Thank you, Gun Max." "Uh-huh," the

Once again, Yuuta found himself running along the familiar grassy path that'd he'd come to familiarize himself with. It had been at least a month since he'd met Deckerd, so finding his way back towards the rusted grate wasn't too hard. The first couple of times he managed to over shot its location, or even went in the wrong direction of it, but usually it was Deckerd who ended up helping him find the grate again. Maybe it had something to do with his A.I. programming, Yuuta didn't know. Either way, Yuuta didn't mind that much; to be honest it was quite cool he could even do that. This time, however, Yuuta had brought with him a small backpac

Just an average Saturday afternoon at the apartment of one Ayako Kimizuka. The young journalist sat on her sofa  with her legs drawn up under her, reading a thin paperback and half-planning her free day. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, pulling Ayako from her thoughts. Marking her place in the novel, she laid it aside and stood. “Coming!” she called as she walked to the front door. She threw the deadbolt and turned the doorknob, fully expecting to redirect the delivery boy to the apartment down the hall three doors and to the left. Things were slightly, ahem… different than that when she opened to door and found herself looking h