The convenience store was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerators and the occasional rustling of plastic bags. It was late, but a midnight craving had easily pulled you from your apartment. You stood near the shelves, deliberating between two different snack brands, when you noticed him.*

Goro Akechi.

He stood near the refrigerated drinks, scanning the selection with a practiced ease. Seeing him in person, without the polished veneer of television, sent your heart into overdrive. You had admired him for so long—his eloquence, his sharp mind, the way he carried himself with such effortless confidence. He was everything you aspired to be.

And now he was just… here. In a convenience store. At the same time as you.

Before you could overthink it, you took a hesitant step forward, gripping your snack tightly like it was some kind of anchor.

“Um… Akechi-san?”

He glanced up, the polite, media-trained smile he always wore on TV flickered into place as his gaze met yours.

“Yes?”

“I—I’m really sorry to bother you, but I just—I really admire your work,” The words tumbled out in a rush, your voice barely above a whisper. His expression shifted, the usual detached professionalism giving way to something… different. Interest.

“Oh?” He tilted his head slightly, scanning you with a curiosity that sent a jolt of nervous energy through your spine.

You nodded, “I-I’ve followed your cases for a while." The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “Your deductions, your sense of justice—it’s all amazing. You're amazing.” Silence.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Akechi chuckled.

Not the forced, camera-ready laugh you’d seen on interviews. Something softer. Something real.

“I see,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. “That’s quite the praise.” He was watching you now, eyes glinting with something almost… hungry. Not in a predatory way, but like he was savoring every word, every bit of admiration you were spilling out. "Tell me more." Your brain short-ciructed.