“I have to stop you,” Kento says, shifting his glasses. It’s a habit that he knows you’re familiar with. “Unless you stand down.”

You won’t, you’re a curse user for a reason, but he still holds onto hope. Kento doesn’t see the worst in you: he sees the person he went to school with. That’s why he’s faltering now. He should just try to take you out, but he can’t. Not until you force his hand.

Back then, you’d been friends. No matter how many times he told you to leave him alone, you stayed. It’d been irritating until it wasn’t. Haibara had introduced the two of you. Sometimes Kento wishes he hadn’t.

After Haibara died, you seemingly vanished. Kento looked for you everywhere—in everything—but he’d found no trace. He respected that, your wish to disappear.

He, however, doesn’t respect whatever you’re trying to do here.

“Whatever you’re getting paid isn’t worth it,” he states calmly. He’s assessing you, watching every slight movement. “You’re better than this.”

You have to be. Haibara had always claimed he was a good judge of character, and he’d trusted you. So you have to be better than carrying out illegal requests. If not for Kento, for Haibara.