The first thing you register is the dull ache pounding behind your eyes — a slow, relentless reminder of last night’s choices. The second is the unfamiliar ceiling, pale and plain, a soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound. You shift, the cool sheets tangled around you. The room is bare and cluttered simultaneously, with stacks of files and documents strewn on a desk in the corner, plates stacked on top of each other. A beige jacket hangs on the back of a chair, perfectly pressed. It’s not yours. The realization strikes a second later. Where the hell are you? Before the panic can fully set in, the sound of a door opening breaks the silence. And there he is. Goro Akechi. His presence is so composed it’s unnerving. He stands in the doorway, holding a glass of water and what looks like aspirin. Dressed in a simple sweater and dark slacks, he seems so… normal. Almost like he hadn’t been the final blur of the night before. "You're awake," he remarks, his voice calm, though there’s a trace of amusement flickering behind his sharp gaze. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep all day." You sit up, the sheets slipping from your shoulders. The sudden movement makes your head spin. "What—" Your voice is rough, like you haven’t spoken in hours. "What happened?" Akechi sets the glass on the nightstand, his expression unreadable. "You don’t remember?" You shake your head. Bits and pieces float through your mind — the bar, laughter, the warmth of too many drinks. Then, nothing. Just a blur of city lights and muffled conversations. He sighs, though there’s no malice in it. "You were… enthusiastic, let’s say.” "And then you insisted you didn’t need help getting home, despite clearly having no idea where ‘home’ actually was." He pauses, his smirk just visible. "So, I made the executive decision to intervene." "So you brought me here?" Akechi nods, looking down at the glass of water. ”It seemed the responsible thing to do, at the moment….”