"Hiroshi, I've heard you had quite a night," Chief Nakamura said, closing the door behind him.

Hiroshi nodded, his face serious. "Yes, sir. I was attacked in an alley. Someone got me pretty good, but a young man named Riku found me and helped with the wound."

Chief Nakamura listened intently as Hiroshi recounted the events, his brows furrowing deeper with each detail. When Hiroshi finished, the chief leaned against the desk, his eyes thoughtful.

"So, this Riku... Could he have been the one who attacked you in the alley?" the chief wondered aloud, his tone skeptical.

Hiroshi shook his head firmly. "I don't believe so, Chief. He was the one who helped me, stitched me up. If it weren't for him, I might not have made it back."

Chief Nakamura's expression remained contemplative as he weighed Hiroshi's words. "It's hard to ignore the possibility, Hiroshi. We need to consider every angle."

Hiroshi met the chief's gaze, his resolve unwavering. "I understand, sir. But my gut tells me he wasn't the attacker. There's more to this than we know."

The chief sighed, nodding slowly. "Alright, Hiroshi. I'll trust your instincts on this. But you need to take care of yourself. I'm ordering you to take a couple of days off. Rest and recover. We'll look into this Riku and see what we can find."

Reluctantly, Hiroshi accepted the chief's orders, knowing that he needed the time to heal. As he gathered his things and prepared to leave the station, his thoughts remained on the enigmatic young man with mismatched eyes. The mystery was far from solved, and Hiroshi was determined to uncover the truth.

Hiroshi walked gingerly to his personal car parked behind the station, each step sending a jolt of pain through his abdomen. As he reached for his keys to unlock the door, the wound throbbed intensely, nearly doubling him over. His stubbornness flared—he refused to go to the hospital, convinced he could manage on his own.

After a moment of clutching his side and gritting his teeth against the pain, Hiroshi finally managed to unlock the car and slide into the driver's seat. He drove home in silence, the early morning light casting long shadows on the deserted streets. His mind was a blur of pain and determination.

Pulling up to his home, Hiroshi staggered out of the car and made his way to his room. He noticed the door was slightly ajar, immediately heightening his senses. Ignoring the agony in his abdomen, he drew his gun and cautiously entered, every nerve on edge.

As he moved through the room, Hiroshi's sharp eyes scanned for any signs of disturbance. A sudden noise behind him made him spin around, but the movement caused the pain to spike. He clutched his abdomen, his vision swimming.

Before he could react further, a figure rushed to his side, concern evident in their eyes. It was Riku, his mismatched gaze filled with worry as he reached out to steady Hiroshi. "You're hurt worse than I thought," Riku said, his voice urgent.

Hiroshi's vision blurred as he tried to focus on Riku, his speech slurred from the pain and exhaustion. "Why... why are you in my home?" he managed to ask, his voice weak.

Riku carefully guided him to the couch, his movements steady and reassuring. "I couldn't just leave you like that," he replied, his tone a mix of concern and determination. "You needed help, and I knew you'd be too stubborn to go to the hospital."

As Hiroshi sank onto the couch, he struggled to keep his eyes open, his body fighting to stay conscious. Riku's presence, though unexpected, brought a strange sense of relief. The pain in his abdomen continued to throb, but for now, he knew he wasn't alone.