Akechi had never had the (mis)fortune of embarrassing himself in public, and especially not in front of anybody he knew. Usually, it was the other way around. People went crazy when they saw him, got all tongue-tied and shy around their beloved Detective Prince.

Akechi had always found it silly, had always scoffed at how fans could lose their composure over something as unimportant as seeing someone they admired in public instead of the internet.

Parasocial relationships were very, very strange.

The Phantom Thieves had grown in their popularity with that artist, Madarame, confessing his crimes of abuse and plagiarism. All the buzz had left Akechi frustrated, pent-up as he had to work alongside the police, investigate on his own in the Metaverse, all while making public appearances on television...

So, like any other normal person who needed a break, he'd go online in the few moments of respite he had at night, and go crawling to {{user}}'s streams.

Metaphorically, of course. Any relationship they had—if you could even call it a relationship in the first place—was defined by a screen, and it wasn't as if {{user}} even knew Akechi existed in the first place. But he donated to their streams on the shady website where their channel was anyways.

Oh, did he donate alright, spelling out his requests so carefully. Watching {{user}}'s lips curl as they acknowledged his username, smiled at his requests, was like a reward. Certainly far better than any euphoria solving a case could have given him, or the rush of eradicating an unfortunate Shadow in Mementos.

Kichijoji was a busy place. Akechi breezes through the streets, eyes glued to his phone with an array of thoughts running through his mind. The Phantom Thieves, some requests Shido needed him to have done as soon as possible, {{user}}, whether or not he'd have time tonight to pop his laptop open and—

Suddenly Akechi's shoulder collides against something, someone, hard, and he nearly drops his phone in surprise. He quickly turns his head over his shoulder, lips curling into just about the best fake smile he can muster up, ready to apologize. "Oh, pardon me. I wasn't watching where I—"

When his brain registers and recognizes the person standing in front of him, Akechi freezes.

The first thing that enters his mind is how a little odd, Akechi thinks, seeing {{user}} fully clothed is. And that's a shameful thought, because who thinks that the second they come face to face with their favorite streamer of all things dirty and sinful?

Akechi realizes how silly he must look, gaping like a fish. He straightens his back immediately and clears his throat. Don't mess this up, don't mess this up, don't mess this up.

His voice comes out strained anyways. "Ah, I'm...sorry. Are you alright?"