"Hahahaha."
Laughs of your ordinary stable family filled the living room. Some comedy reality show was playing on the television, the man of the house have yet another heartfelt laugh slapping his knee in the process. His son and daughter who were sitting on the floor also laughed. The mother gave a smile and hugged her husband. She was smiling but it was all a facade, just five minutes ago, she had received a notification on her phone, informing her that her time was up.
A few tears trickled down her cheeks. Out of the blue she said, "Guys, I love you so much." The family was puzzled at the sudden show of affection. Before anyone could linger on the subject any longer there was a soft knock on the door. Suddenly, everyone went silent. It was not always a good sign to hear a knock in the middle of the night.
The man went and opened the door. And there, were two people one would never want knocking on the door. Their uniforms were obvious and memorable, in a bad way. Of the two men, the older looking one reached into his pocket and brought out a badge, "Death Patrol. My name is officer Akito, we are looking -"
"No! No! No!" The man shouted, "No one received it!! It's not anyones time yet! Why are you here!? Go! Go away!!"
It was never a pleasant surprise to be graced by this uniforms presence. The Death Patrol, in this overpopulated world, the governments decide who dies and at what time. This system started over a hundred years ago when resources became more and more scarce. A dictator then decided, the only way to stop this problem, to prevent the extinction of the human race, some people would have to be 'trimmed'. The method appeared to work, little by little other nations and governments adopted this system and from that was the birth of the Death Patrol. The enforcers of the task of trimming people.
The man punched, Officer Akito. "You basters! Are you human!? How can you live with yourselves!?" He was about to throw yet another one when his wife shouted "Juni! Please... They came here for me. I was notified a few minutes ago." She sobbed.
The man's world crumbled instantly. "How..Why didn't you say?" The wife did not reply, just smiled.
"Ma'am, if you may please come with us outside please." Officer Akito said. The younger officer looked at Akito and back at the man, their eyes met and he but his lip, it was clear he did not want this.
The woman followed quietly, "Dear please. We can-" he began. "No. Please. Remember I will always love you." The woman turned back, taking one last look at her children who were frozen in shock. Their minds were blank and their souls left their body with sheer denial.
The trio descend the stairs leaving the man kneeling on the floor.
"May I know you gentlemen's names?" She said trying to remain strong.
Officer Akito looked at her, "My name is Haji Akito, the is my partner Yoru Rika, he just joined the force."
"Oh. Such lovely names, how is work?"
"Sigh. Hectic as always."
"Do you enjoy your work?"
Officer Akito did not reply to that question. "Do you have a will... ma'am?" He asked, cocking his gun as they finally entered the dim street.
The woman turned to face him and smiled. Haji hesitated before finally pulling the trigger. A boom filled the air. Yoru and Haji stood there, offering a moment of silence before sending a confirmation to the HQ confirming the job was done.
"Confirmation sent," Haji said quietly, sliding his device back into his coat pocket. He stared at the faint silhouette of the woman for a moment longer before turning away. Yoru lingered, eyes fixed on the spot where she had fallen. The soft hum of streetlights illuminated her face just enough for him to notice the faint smile still lingering on her lips.
He swallowed hard. His hand trembled as he holstered his gun.
"Rika," Haji's voice broke through the fog in Yoru's mind, "let's move."
He nodded silently and followed his superior to the patrol car. The vehicle was a dull black, with tinted windows and a faint humming engine — sleek, efficient, and utterly lifeless. The kind of car that never belonged in a happy story.
Once inside, the silence was unbearable. Yoru glanced out the window, watching the buildings blur by. Neon signs flickered in the distance, advertising things that no longer mattered, restaurants, streaming services, dating apps. All meaningless in a world where your life could end with a notification.
The older man let out a tired sigh. "Don't think too much about it. It'll eat you alive if you do."
Yoru didn't respond. Tears begging to burst out. His fingers fidgeted on his lap, his reflection staring back at him through the window. "How long have you been doing this?"
"Twenty-three years."
"And you don't… feel anything anymore?"
Haji chuckled dryly. "I didn't say that. You just learn to bury it. Deep enough that you can still wake up the next morning. Trust me it's not easy." He said looked at Yoru his eyes were red.
The car slowed at a red light. Outside, a homeless man sat by the corner, holding a cardboard sign that read: Not chosen yet. Please, I just want to live till next month.
Yoru looked away. "How do you think it got this bad?"
"You're asking the wrong guy," Haji muttered, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "I just clean up the mess. I don't make the rules."
"But someone does."
"Yeah. Somewhere in a tall building, where they don't have to see what happens on the ground."
The light turned green. They drove in silence again, the city stretching endlessly ahead.
"Why do they always smile?" Yoru whispered.
"Because they know fighting it won't change anything," Haji replied. "Acceptance is easier than despair."
"Do you believe that?"
Haji didn't answer.
They drove aimlessly for a while, the engine's hum filling the void. Rain began to drizzle, tapping lightly on the windshield. The wipers moved in rhythm, steady and mechanical.
"So.. How has been your first shift so far" Haji asked suddenly.
Yoru only looked back out the window.
The car slowed near a bridge. The city lights shimmered on the water below. Haji parked the car and turned off the engine.
"Get some air," he said.
Yoru stepped out, the cold wind biting at his face. He leaned against the railing, staring down at the river. The reflection of the neon lights looked like veins of color bleeding across the surface.
"I joined because my gramps, my father and my sister had joined. I knew what the job was about, I didn't think much of it then, it all seemed like a necessity, like how the world should work."
Haji stared at Yoru, " You're right kid. This is nessesary. We can't get overpopulated, someone has to do this."
The conversation was cut short, both their phones buzzed at the same time. A message from the headquarters, it was the Death Patrol app, on it was the name, ID picture, date of birth, adreess and other nessesary information of the target. "Hmm, Yuki Yamai huh? A beautiful lady such a shame. Let's go, it's not too far."
Yoru nodded silently and followed Haji back into the car. The rain had thickened into a steady drizzle, painting the windshield in streaks of grey. Streetlights smeared across the glass like fading memories as the car hummed quietly through the street.
Yuki Yamai. Age twenty-seven. Occupation: office clerk.
Her photo glowed on the dashboard screen, gentle eyes, a soft smile, the kind of face you could pass in a crowd and forget in seconds. Yoru couldn't stop looking.
"Shinji street, Building 14, Room 4C," Haji said, voice steady.
Yoru nodded again, though his stomach churned. It always did. He had been with the Death Patrol for a month now but he had never pulled the trigger. Every time, Haji did it. Every time, Yoru just watched.
They parked beside a narrow apartment block, rain dripping from the edge of the roof. The faint glow from a window on the third floor marked the place. Haji adjusted his collar and stepped out first, Yoru following close behind.
Inside, the stairwell smelled of mold and damp metal. Their boots echoed softly up the steps. When they reached Room 4C, Haji gave the two usual knocks.
"Is it you?"
They did not reply.
After a few seconds, the door opened.
A woman stood there. Yuki Yamai. She had already been crying, eyes red but calm. The air around her felt heavy, resigned.
"I thought you'd come tomorrow," she said softly.
"Yuki Yamai?" Haji asked.
She nodded.
"Please, come with us," Haji said. "It'll be quick."
She turned and took a jacket from the hook by the door, slipping it on with steady hands. Yoru noticed a steaming cup of tea still sitting on the table. Half full. The television was still on, a quiet talk show, its laughter sounding distant and wrong.
As she followed them into the corridor, Yoru kept glancing at her back. She walked slowly, each step careful, like she was memorizing the feeling of the ground beneath her feet.
Outside, the rain hit harder. The alley behind the building was dark and narrow, the air filled with the smell of wet asphalt.
Haji stopped, checked the time, and nodded once. "Yuki Yamai. You understand what happens next?"
"Yes," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was no fear. "I've made peace with it."
Yoru swallowed hard. His hand hovered over his weapon but froze there. His breath came shallow, his pulse loud in his ears.
Haji glanced at him. "Rika," he said quietly. "You good?"
Yoru couldn't answer. His throat felt dry. He nodded weakly.
Yuki looked at him, offering a faint, comforting smile, the kind that felt completely out of place. "First time?" she asked gently.
He didn't respond, but she seemed to understand anyway. "It's alright," she said. "No one should have to get used to this."
Haji raised his gun. Yoru flinched as the muffled crack echoed off the walls.
The woman crumpled silently onto the wet ground.
For a long moment, Yoru couldn't move. He just stood there, staring at her body, the rain washing away the thin line of blood running down her cheek.
Haji holstered his weapon with a weary sigh and reached into his coat for his device. "Target confirmed. Report sent."
He turned toward Yoru. "You froze again."
Yoru blinked, his hands still trembling. "I… couldn't," he said softly.
"I know." Haji's tone wasn't harsh, just tired. "Don't force it. You'll do it when you're ready."
"When I'm ready?" Yoru's voice cracked. "How can anyone ever be ready for this?"
Haji looked away, lighting a cigarette under the cover of his hand. The flame flickered weakly in the rain. "You either get ready," he said slowly, "or you don't last long in this job."
Yoru stared at the woman's body again. The rain kept falling, relentless. Somewhere far away, a siren wailed, another patrol, another job.