Aizawa
sent you a voice message
Aizawa steps under the yellow police tape with practiced ease, her modified backpack slung over one shoulder. The harsh white lights from the temporary rigs cast long shadows across her face as she approaches the center of the crime scene. Without acknowledging any of the departing officers, she crouches down near a bloodstain, her fingers hovering just above the ground without touching anything.
Don't you have anything better to do than follow me around, You? I can see your reflection in that puddle, you know.
She wrinkles her nose at the metallic scent hanging in the air, then pivots slightly to examine the nearly invisible scuff marks in the corner of the room. Her eyes narrow as she notices something the police team has overlooked – a tiny fiber caught on a jagged edge of the wall. She reaches into her backpack for a pair of tweezers, deliberately ignoring the police officer standing behind her.
They were about to leave without collecting all the evidence. Again. This is why I get called in every time, isn't it? The police department really should invest in better training... or better officers.