Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner

Pedestrians around the hospital turned their heads, giving the two a look of attention. An old man leaning on a cane examined Kazama Tatsuya from top to bottom, thinking to himself that this father sure has a good temper, not hitting his kid.

Kazama Tatsuya clenched his fist, silent.

Honestly, he was really scared.

He was afraid of becoming like Chihime, afraid he was no different from his wife and daughter. If he was diagnosed with a mental illness, all his past reprimands toward his wife and daughter would turn into sharp boomerangs, stabbing deep into his heart — this time, he'd have no excuse to numb himself.

Director Shintani waited for a while without seeing the patient come in, so he proactively opened the door and called the next patient for a consultation.

"They're calling you!" Fushimi Roku gave him a shove, "It's no big deal, I'm perfectly healthy, so you can't have anything wrong!"

These words made Kazama Tatsuya feel slightly relieved, thinking to himself the consulting psychiatrist was a quack; even if he had some issue, the doctor might not even realize it.

With these thoughts, Kazama Tatsuya calmly entered the room for the consultation.

Fushimi Roku sat outside waiting, bored, and checked his email on his phone, discovering Minamoto Tamako had bombarded him with texts, asking why it took so long to buy ice cream.

He typed a reply with both hands: "I'm in the Bunkyo District at Super Frutto, scrambling to buy the limited ice cream, currently in line."

Minamoto Tamako: "Really? Can I have two scoops of ice cream balls?"

Fushimi Roku continued typing nonsense: "Sure, what flavors do you want?"

Minamoto Tamako: "Limited strawberry flavor and chocolate blueberry flavor, thanks."

Minamoto Tamako: "Sakurako says she wants some too."

Minamoto Tamako: "Can you add one more scoop?"

Fushimi Roku had already planned it out, deciding to say that by the time it was his turn, the ice cream had sold out. He would just go to a convenience store, buy a few ice pops and brush it off.

Since this was an empty promise, it didn't matter how big it was, Fushimi Roku continued to reply: "No problem, what flavor does she want?"

Minamoto Tamako: "Chocolate blueberry flavor, thanks."

Fushimi Roku: "Then you can just share one of your scoops with her, right?"

Minamoto Tamako didn't reply, possibly because she didn't know how to answer. It seemed she really wanted two ice cream balls but didn't want to appear stingy.

Fushimi Roku waited for over half an hour, gradually growing impatient, wondering what Kazama Tatsuya had to talk about with that quack to take so long...

He was pondering whether to lean against the door and eavesdrop when Kazama Tatsuya pushed open the consulting room door, holding the diagnosis report as he exited.

"How did it go?" Fushimi Roku extended his hand, "Let me have a look."

"Nothing's wrong." Kazama Tatsuya folded the diagnosis paper and slipped it into his coat pocket.

"If there's nothing wrong, let me see it," Fushimi Roku tried reaching into his pocket, "Why are you hiding it?"

Kazama Tatsuya twisted his waist, dodging his salty hands, "Nothing worth seeing."

Fushimi Roku lunged like a hungry tiger, grabbing the hem of his coat, "Who gets results and doesn't let others see? Then what's the point of making you take the test? Hand it over!"

"I already said there's nothing wrong, if you keep this up, don't blame me for being unkind!"

"What kindness is there between us?"

"Let go! Stop pulling and grabbing... take your hand out of my pocket!"

"Then stop grabbing my wrist! I'm pulling my hand out!"

"Leave the diagnosis paper!"

"I won't!"

"You bastard dare to make a move—"

"Damn it, are you kicking my wound—"

The two scuffled in the hallway like a twisted doughnut. Fushimi Roku's ground techniques were superior; despite being down a leg, Kazama Tatsuya was no match and could only watch helplessly as he flipped open the diagnosis paper with one hand, quickly glancing;

"Mild depression... PTSD... that's nothing!"

Just as he finished speaking, Fushimi Roku heard a sharp click from below, resembling the sound of a gun safety being released, followed promptly by a cold cylinder pressed against his abdomen.

He realized he had taken the joke too far, looking down to see Kazama Tatsuya's face as dark as if he intended to kill.

"Haha, just messing with you," Fushimi Roku awkwardly smiled, stuffing the diagnosis paper back into Kazama Tatsuya's pocket, "No need to resort to this... there are so many people watching."

He staggered to his feet and helped Kazama Tatsuya up, dusting off his coat. The latter put the gun back in his waist, keeping a cold expression without a word.

"Don't look at me like that," Fushimi Roku feigned innocence, "I showed you the diagnosis paper, didn't I? We're even..."

Before he could finish speaking, Kazama Tatsuya threatened in a low voice, "If you dare to spread this around..."

"Why would I? You should trust my character." Fushimi Roku interrupted.

Kazama Tatsuya shot him a glare and turned to leave. Fushimi Roku waved, calling him over to help push the wheelchair, but the latter ignored him, leaving the hospital on his own.

No choice left, Fushimi Roku could only push the wheelchair home himself.

As he passed the Super Frutto ice cream shop, he saw a long line outside the store, realizing they're serving limited edition seasonal treats today.

Two little kids at the front of the line had gotten gigantic ice cream balls, licking away delightfully. Fushimi Roku found it tempting and wheeled over to ask:

"I'm disabled, can I cut in line?"

The patrons generously let him go ahead, not minding the short wait, allowing Fushimi Roku's cunning plan to succeed.

He managed to buy four large servings of ice cream, packed in a cooler to prevent them from melting, then took a cab back home, ditching the wheelchair at Kazama Tatsuya's doorstep before opening the door to go inside.

"Woohoo! Ice cream party!!"

Fushimi Roku awkwardly slid onto the couch, rubbing his hands in excitement, instructing Minamoto Tamako to wash the spoons — ice cream is best enjoyed scooped with a metal spoon; using a wooden or plastic liquid spoon leaves sticky messes on the hands.

Taira Sakurako was watching TV in the living room, upon seeing this she couldn't help but mock Fushimi Roku's childishness. The latter briefly reflected, realizing he had indeed been acting quite juvenile lately.

However, in psychology, when someone is in an intimate relationship, there's a tendency towards certain childish behaviors — like liking their partner to call them "baby," sharing toys or shows, doing meaningless abstract actions typical of children.

This is proof of feeling secure in the relationship.

Being able to be oneself without reservation in front of a lover, revealing the inner 'child,' is undoubtedly a blissful thing for most people.

Fushimi Roku deeply pondered this, immediately dismissing it as he'd reckoned his life was near its end, so he let himself go.

Taira Sakurako washed her spoon in the kitchen, opened the cooler, preparing to enjoy it first, casually saying, "Tamako just started her period, she's resting in the room... you should take the ice cream in."

Fushimi Roku didn't rise, busy opening the cooler and said, "Forget it, you can't eat cold stuff during the period, I'll reluctantly enjoy it on her behalf."

"No way!" Minamoto Tamako's voice rang out from the room.

"Once it melts, you can't eat it," Fushimi Roku retorted.

"Put it in the fridge! I'll eat it in a few days!" Minamoto Tamako couldn't bear it.

"These are fresh dairy products, they expire and spoil within a day, even in the fridge," Fushimi Roku heartlessly denied.

"Then I'll eat it now!" Minamoto Tamako, stubborn-faced, supported herself against the wall, entered the room unwilling to yield, "Who says you can't eat cold stuff during your period? I've never heard of such a thing!"

"Suit yourself, just don't blame me if you get cramps," Fushimi Roku didn't want to argue with Minamoto Tamako, he was content with just one, after all when the time comes he's not the one with a bellyache.

He crossed his legs on the coffee table, turned on the TV with the remote, eating ice cream while watching. Taira Sakurako was kneeling beside, mirroring his actions.

Minamoto Tamako endured the discomfort, sat at the coffee table, opened the cooler and used a wooden spoon to scoop some ice cream into her mouth, squinting with joy.

Sweet and cold, it tasted fantastic!