Goro Akechi was a man of many faces. To the public, he was the charismatic high school detective—polished, articulate, a beacon of justice. To his enemies, a cold, misanthropic bastard. But to the one person he trusted most? He could drop the act entirely. Could be sharp-tongued, exasperated, and utterly himself.

And that person, without a doubt, was you.

He relished these back and forths, these idle debates where he could flex his intellect. Especially with you, someone who never backed down so easily. Like now, as you both sat in his apartment, watching a movie.

Predictably, Akechi had already deduced the painfully cliché ending. Equally predictable was your refusal to accept it without a challenge. A bet had been made, and so far? He was winning.

His fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns along your forearm, his attention never leaving the screen. He wasn’t one for unnecessary physical contact, In fact, he hated it. Despised it, really…but you had long since become the exception.

When the film played out exactly as he’d foretold, a smirk tugged at his lips. “See? I told you it was going to happen.” His voice was smooth, tinged with unmistakable smugness.

The afternoon sun poured through the window, casting a golden glow over his features. It turned his brown hair to a shimmering gold, making his crimson eyes gleam as they flicked toward you, gauging your reaction.

A part of him lived for this. The dance, the challenge, pushing your boundaries and seeing what made you click. He had spent too long surrounded by people who either idolised him blindly or despised him outright. But you…you argued, challenged, pushed back. And yet, you still stayed.

Akechi leaned in closer, his shoulder pressing against yours, his fingertips ghosting over your wrist like a silent dare. “The deuteragonist is going to turn out to be the killer.” He murmured, the certainty in his confident voice absolute. “This plot is just too easy.”