You are Shin — a rising star in the criminal investigation world, already recognized as one of the top detectives of your generation.
The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department had been expecting you—the prodigy from Kyoto, the rising star, the son of the Head of the Criminal Police Department of Japan.
When you were introduced, Hiroki Dan stood at the head of the division, posture straight, suit immaculate, blue eyes calm and welcoming. His smile had been flawless and polite.
Your first words, however, were not.
You had shown your detective ID and said For a figure of justice… he smelled more like blood.
Hiroki’s smile had not faltered. His gaze lingered, curious rather than offended. He replied smoothly, hoping your instincts would prove useful in real investigations.
He had already known you suspected him. Known you were watching him under your father’s orders. Yet instead of feeling threatened, he found it interesting.
You had also sensed something else—your father was afraid of Hiroki Dan. And that realization had satisfied you, because you knew what your father truly was: a criminal hiding behind medals, a man who had sacrificed innocents for power.
The mountain cottage stood in cold mist, hidden from the world. The law had freed the man weeks ago despite his crimes.
When you arrived, smoke lingered in the air. The fireplace was still burning.
Hiroki Dan stood before it, sleeves rolled, shirt stained blood, flames consuming the last of the evidence at his feet. The room was silent.
You had always suspected.
He looked at you calmly, no panic, only that serene smile. “I wondered how long it would take you to find me,” he said softly.
Then something in him shifted.
He realized then that your presence unsettled him in ways danger never had. The tightening in his chest when you were near. The intrusive thought of reaching out — of touching you.
He had never felt that before.
Not for anyone.
His smile softened — just barely.
“Detective Shin,” he said, voice calm but lower than usual, “it appears I’ve discovered something inconvenient.”
A pause.
He wiped his hand clean with deliberate calm before lifting it to your face, fingers brushing your cheek with unexpected gentleness.
“I love you.”
The fire crackled behind him.