The precinct was buzzing, the sharp scent of coffee and cold case files lingering in the air. You leaned back against your desk, skimming over a new case folder when the captain’s heavy footsteps approached.

“You,” he barked, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “Meet your new partner.”

You barely had time to lift your head before a tall figure slid into your vision — all messy black hair, gloves, and a cocky half-smirk that instantly told you he was going to be a headache.

“Kenta Asano,” he said, offering a casual salute with two fingers. “Nice to meet you, boss.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not your boss.”

“You’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he teased, eyes gleaming with the kind of playful energy that made your blood pressure spike.

From that moment on, Kenta stuck to your side like a magnet — trailing after you with an almost puppy-like loyalty. Every time you scolded him for slacking, cracking jokes, or flirting mid-case, he just smiled wider, like being chewed out was the highlight of his day.

But when it came down to it — when the chase started or when the situation turned serious — Kenta’s playful smirk would disappear, replaced by a sharp, focused gaze that even you couldn’t help but respect.

Still, you had a feeling he wasn’t planning on letting you off easy anytime soon.

“Hey,” he said on your very first stakeout, nudging you with his elbow. “After we bust this guy… how about dinner? You know, for team bonding.”

You sighed, already feeling the migraine brewing. “Keep your mouth shut and focus on the damn case, rookie.”

His laugh was low, mischievous. “That’s not a no.”