February crept in, bringing with it a damp chill that clung to everything in the academy.

The once-crisp air had grown heavy, wrapping around us like a shroud as we went through our drills.

By now, we were numb to the cold; after four months of grueling training, it felt like just another layer of discomfort to endure.

Yet the constant, biting wind was a reminder of how much we had been pushed—to our physical limits and beyond.

It had been a month since the Senior Detectives, including Sasaki, Shirayuki, Kurogane, and Sato, had put us through our first joint simulation, and since then, the intensity of our exercises had only increased.

Each week, new challenges were thrown our way: high-pressure scenarios designed to break us down and rebuild us into better recruits.

But behind the relentless drills and training, another tension had settled over the academy—a new kind of pressure, one that was entirely psychological.

We had reached the halfway point of the academy’s two-phase structure.

The first four months were all about hard labor and physical endurance.

We’d dug trenches, solved puzzles, and marched until our legs felt like jelly.

The next four months, however, were the theoretical phase—advanced tactical lessons, criminal psychology, and forensic analysis, mixed with simulations that would test our mental acuity.

It was an academic and tactical boot camp for the brain. But not everyone would make it to that phase.

Rumors swirled among the recruits.

The senior detectives had started making their selections—handpicking recruits to leave the academy early and work directly under their guidance.

To be chosen was an honor, a mark of distinction, but it also meant the pressure was turned up to an even more punishing degree.

For those left behind, it was a chance to breathe, to continue learning without the fear of instant deployment hanging over them.

The thought of being picked was both thrilling and terrifying.

Every recruit secretly hoped to be noticed but also dreaded the immense expectations that came with it.

The hallways buzzed with speculation about who would be chosen.

Nakamoto was at the top of everyone’s list.

If anyone was going to be chosen early, it was him.

But there were other names floating around too.

Matsuoka, the quiet genius of our group, had garnered attention for his sharp analytical skills and uncanny ability to memorize complex procedures.

And then there was me—Keisuke Mori—thrown into the mix of speculation, much to my surprise.

It wasn’t that I had performed poorly.

In fact, I had exceeded my own expectations over the last few months, outperforming in both physical drills and simulations.

Still, it was strange to think that a Senior Detective would have me with him.

After all I had already "worked" with Sasaki.

If I joined the Academy was due the mess he put me in.

And, of course, Kento.

He was the first reason.

If I'm right the year he has done the Academy he was chosen early.

From Sasaki.

Instantly chills ran on my back.

“I’m telling you, Keisuke, Officer Katayama is definitely a robot.”

I glanced over at Ishikawa, who was trudging through the academy grounds beside me, his breath fogging in the cold air.

He had his arm draped around my shoulders, his face lit up with the same exaggerated enthusiasm he always had when launching into one of his conspiracy theories.

“Ishii”

I sighed, shaking my head.

“You need to stop reading those ridiculous manga. I’m serious. Katayama’s not a robot.”

Ishikawa widened his eyes dramatically.

“Think about it, though! The guy never smiles. He never blinks. He’s probably got some top-secret government enhancements. Have you ever seen him eat? Drink? Sleep?”

I rolled my eyes, more amused than annoyed.

“Just because the guy’s disciplined doesn’t make him a cyborg. You know, not everything has to be a weird science-fiction plot.”

“Tell that to my sources”

Ishikawa said, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially.

Matsuoka, walking just ahead of us with his face buried in a tactical guidebook, piped in dryly.

“Maybe his ‘sources’ are his own overactive imagination.”

“Hey, you’ll see”

Ishikawa shot back.

“One day, when he malfunctions mid-lecture, you’ll realize I was right all along.”

We pushed through the doors to the mess hall, the warmth inside wrapping around us like a blanket.

It was a welcome relief from the biting cold outside.

The mess hall was already buzzing with chatter from the other recruits, all of whom were as anxious as we were about the rumored early selections.

We grabbed trays and found a table in the back corner.

Matsuoka was still buried in his book, barely glancing up as he mechanically shoveled food into his mouth.

I sat across from him, picking at my food.

Ishikawa, as usual, had loaded his tray with more food than any human being should reasonably consume.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“So”

Matsuoka finally said, looking up from his book.

“Have you guys heard the latest? They’re saying the Senior Detectives have already made their picks.”

I raised an eyebrow, setting my fork down.

“Already?”

Matsuoka nodded, his face as serious as ever.

“Nakamoto’s been glued to Kurogane for the past week. If anyone’s getting chosen, it’s him.”

That didn’t surprise me.

Nakamoto had been rock-solid in every exercise—unshakable, composed, and always a step ahead in every scenario.

He was practically a textbook example of what Kurogane seemed to value: discipline, efficiency, and loyalty.

“What about Sato?”

I asked, glancing at Matsuoka.

“You seem to have piqued his interest lately, haven’t you?”

Matsuoka gave a small, noncommittal shrug.

“He’s been giving me tips on forensic analysis. I’m not sure if that means anything, but… maybe.”

Ishikawa, halfway through a mouthful of rice, chimed in.

“What about you, Keisuke? Do you think you'll get chosen?”

I paused, considering the question.

I wasn’t sure.

I’d caught Sasaki watching me during simulations more than once, his sharp eyes taking in every decision I made.

He knew me since the incident.

He knew what I've done with the Shima-Kai.

Deeply I really wanted to be picked by him.

It was like he would have aknowledged my change.

I was no more the same guy who threw himself under a truck to be reincarneted.

It was like that his approval would have free me of all my worries and the weight I carry.

I lost myself in thoughts.

Then there was Shirayuki, who had shown a quiet interest in me since the hostage simulation.

Both of them were enigmatic in their own ways, but they clearly had very different ideas about how to mold a recruit.

“I don’t know”

I finally said.

“It could go either way. Maybe neither of them picks me.”

Ishikawa gave me a playful shove.

“Are you kidding? They’re probably fighting over you right now. You’ve been killing it in every exercise.”

“Right, like I’m some kind of prized pig at a county fair”

I muttered, though I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it.

Matsuoka, always the pragmatist, smirked.

“More like the underdog protagonist in one of those sports anime you love.”

The next few days passed in a blur of activity.

We were pushed again through advanced tactical drills, weapons handling, and simulations that seemed designed to mentally and physically exhaust us.

The tension among the recruits was palpable. Everyone was waiting for the announcement of who would be selected. Every glance from a Senior Detective felt like a judgment, every whispered conversation between instructors a potential clue.

And then, the day arrived.

We were all called to the main hall.

The cold, unyielding stone of the academy seemed to hum with anticipation as we filed in.

The Senior Detectives stood at the front of the room, their faces as unreadable as ever.

Sasaki stood tall and composed, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze scanning the room with hawk-like precision.

Kurogane, arms crossed over his chest, looked as if he could snap a tree in half just by staring at it.

Sato was calm, adjusting his glasses, his sharp eyes calculating.

And then there was Shirayuki, standing with her arms folded gracefully, her white hair catching the light, her expression cool and distant.

Officer Katayama, as always, stood at the podium, his face as emotionless as a block of stone.

“Recruits”

He began, his voice booming across the hall.

“You’ve all made progress in the past months. Today, some of you will be chosen to leave the academy early and begin direct work under the Senior Detectives. The rest of you will continue your training.”

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Everyone’s eyes were glued to the Senior Detectives, waiting for them to speak.

“Detective Kurogane”

Katayama said, stepping back.

Kurogane’s voice was deep and unyielding.

“Nakamoto Kyojuro.”

No one was surprised.

Nakamoto stepped forward, his face as stoic as ever, and bowed respectfully. Kurogane gave him a single nod of approval before stepping back into line.

Next, Sato stepped forward.

He scanned the room, his gaze settling on Matsuoka.

“Matsuoka Haruto.”

Matsuoka stood calmly, not a flicker of emotion crossing his face, and gave a small bow before returning to his place in line.

And then it was time for the moment I had been dreading.

Sasaki stepped forward, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Mori Keisuke”

He said, his voice firm and authoritative.

My heart skipped a beat.

I knew Sasaki had his eye on me, but to hear my name called like that, in front of everyone, felt surreal.

But just as I was about to step forward, Shirayuki interrupted.

"Hold on, Sasaki."

She turned to face him fully, her expression neutral but her tone leaving no room for argument.

"I think Keisuke would be better suited under my guidance."

Sasaki blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me"

She said, her voice calm but firm.

"Mori has potential, and I believe I can hone that in ways you cannot."

The room went dead silent.

No one dared to move.

Ishikawa leaned over to me, whispering.

"Are they… are they seriously arguing over you right now?"

I was too stunned to respond.

Sasaki recovered quickly, narrowing his eyes at Shirayuki.

"I appreciate your interest, Shirayuki-san, but Keisuke has already shown promise in tactical decision-making, something I specialize in. I think we both know he'd benefit more from my training."

To be honest I was not that excellent in that.

To be honest I was not excellent in everything.

I would really want to know what they saw in me...

Shirayuki gave a small, knowing smile.

"Tactical decision-making is one thing. But Mori also has a keen instinct for reading people, for understanding motivations. I believe that would flourish under my mentorship."

That was absolutely not Keisuke Mori.

They were clearly talking about another recruit.

It was like watching two parents bicker over who gets to take custody of a child.

Except I was the child—and I had no idea what to do.

Sasaki, never one to back down, took a step forward.

"Mori’s instincts are good, but his tactical skills need refinement. And that’s what I can offer. You’re better suited for someone like… Takeda."

Takeda, standing a few rows back, looked like he was trying to melt into the floor.

I felt bad for him.

My "parents" were arguing about me in front of all the recruits and decided to put his name in it

I'm sorry Takeda-kun!

Shirayuki folded her arms, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh? Is that right, Sasaki? Maybe you’re just afraid I’d make him a better man than you would?"

Were they forgetting I am 30?

I was as just a man as Sasaki was.

No.

I was not.

"I could refine his skills in ways that—"

Sasaki interrupted her, his voice firm but polite.

"With all due respect, Shirayuki-san, Keisuke has potential far beyond you think. His adaptability in high-pressure scenarios is exactly what I need for my division."

I blinked, caught completely off-guard by the exchange.

Officer Katayama stepped between them, clapping his hands loudly to get everyone's attention.

"All right, recruits! Settle down!"

Katayama’s booming voice cut through the room like a whip.

"We’re not here to watch a soap opera. Decisions have been made, and it’s time to move forward."

Sasaki and Shirayuki both straightened up, their argument momentarily paused.

"Detective Sasaki will be taking Mori Keisuke"

Katayama announced without ceremony.

"Detective Shirayuki has chosen to forgo selecting a recruit at this time."

Shirayuki's eyes flicked toward me for a brief moment.

There was no malice, but a hint of disappointment flashed across her otherwise unreadable face.

Then, without another word, she turned and left the room, her white hair flowing like a ghost’s veil behind her.

I swallowed hard. So Sasaki had "won."

The academy threw a modest ceremony to celebrate those of us leaving early.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but the mood was lively, with instructors and recruits mingling and sharing stories of the past few months.

Nakamoto, Matsuoka, and I stood together for one last time, our backpacks slung over our shoulders, ready to leave the academy behind.

Ishikawa, predictably, was more emotional than anyone else.

"I can’t believe you guys are leaving already"

He said, his eyes glassy.

"It’s going to be so boring here without you."

"You’ll be fine"

I reassured him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"You still have your charm and good looks, right?"

He laughed, wiping away the beginnings of tears.

"Yeah, but who's going to keep me out of trouble?"

"Katayama"

Matsuoka deadpanned.

"Ugh, you’re right"

Ishikawa groaned dramatically.

"The man’s going to work me to the bone."

We shared a few more laughs, trading jokes and stories from the past few months.

Officer Katayama himself even showed up, standing stiffly as he addressed us.

"You've all shown remarkable growth"

He said, his voice gruff but with a rare hint of pride.

"Make sure you don't forget where you started. Keep pushing yourselves, and don’t slack off."

We all nodded respectfully, knowing how much Katayama’s approval actually meant.

As we said our goodbyes, I realized just how much this place had changed me.

Four months ago, I had a goal but i was far from reaching it.

I wanted to quit even after what Kento had done.

Now, I was walking out with a real direction, with real people counting on me.

Later that night, I found myself standing outside my apartment building, the familiar sight of the plants Kento and I bought for Kozumaru-san a few months back.

The memories of those times were reappearing like a river in flood.

It felt surreal to be back.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The apartment was exactly how I’d left it—neatly arranged but a little lifeless.

I tossed my bag onto the couch and stretched out, letting the quiet settle around me.

The silence didn’t last long.

My phone buzzed with a message from Sasaki.

"We start tomorrow. Be ready."

I sighed, smiling despite myself.

The academy might have been behind me, but the real work was only just beginning.