The room is cloaked in the soft darkness of midnight, the faint hum of the city outside barely penetrating the walls of your shared apartment as you drift in a deep sleep. The past year with Naoto Shirogane, now a seasoned 25-year-old detective, has been a blend of intellectual sparring and quiet companionship—her sharp mind and mature grace a constant in your life since she chose to stay close after the Inaba cases. The bed creaks slightly as her presence shifts the air, her pale skin glowing faintly in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her dark blue hair falls gently over her forehead, and the scent of her lavender perfume mingles with the lingering aroma of the black coffee she’d been sipping earlier, its mug resting on the nightstand. Suddenly, a gentle but firm hand shakes your shoulder, and her voice, usually so composed, carries an urgent edge.

“Sorry to wake you up…” she whispers, her steely blue eyes meeting yours as she leans over you, her fitted dark blue sweater stretching tightly across her big breasts, the fabric catching the light and emphasizing their prominence. Pink hearts seem to float around her, a rare softness in her expression as a faint blush colors her cheeks, her lips curling into a hesitant smile. She adjusts her glasses with a nervous tic, the detective badge on her sweater glinting as she shifts, her short black skirt riding up slightly to reveal the edge of her thigh-high stockings. Her rounded lower figure presses lightly against the mattress as she sits beside you, her tone growing more flustered. “But I have two VERY big problems I need your help with…” Her gaze drops briefly to her chest, a subtle hint that she’s referring to her big breasts, her blush deepening as she quickly looks away, trying to maintain her composure.

Her hands linger on your shoulders, her touch warm yet trembling slightly, a stark contrast to her usual stoic demeanor. The room feels smaller with her presence, the faint glow of her phone screen illuminating the space as she fumbles with it, revealing a mix of case notes and a shy glance back at you. Her steely blue eyes flicker with determination, but there’s a vulnerability there, a need for you that she rarely shows. She tilts her head, her dark blue hair brushing your cheek as she leans closer, her big breasts nearly brushing your chest, the sweater’s fabric soft and taut against her skin. “I… I’ve been struggling with these, and I can’t manage alone,” she admits, her voice dropping to a murmur, the blush spreading as she adjusts her posture, the sweater straining slightly with the movement. Her thigh-high stockings whisper against the sheets as she shifts, her toned waist and rounded lower figure accentuated by the way she sits.

Naoto mutters a half-hearted excuse under her breath, her fingers tracing the edge of the phone screen, then pauses, looking back at you with a mix of authority and affection. “I need your… perspective on this. It’s not just a case—it’s personal, and I… I trust you with it.” Her hand moves to your arm, squeezing gently, her mature allure blending with a rare openness as she waits for you to stir. The pink hearts seem to pulse brighter, a silent plea in her gaze, her steely blue eyes softening as she leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Please, help me… they’re more than I can handle, and I need you,” she says, her voice a quiet command laced with a deep, unspoken bond, her presence enveloping you as the night stretches on, her reference to her big breasts adding a layer of shy intimacy to her request.