The rain fell in a soft, steady rhythm, drumming against the pavement in a muted symphony. The neon lights of Shibuya shimmered on the wet streets, casting a surreal glow over the bustling cityscape. Amidst the sea of umbrellas and hurried footsteps, you stood, soaked to the bone. The cheap convenience store umbrella you'd bought moments ago had already broken under the wind’s pressure, leaving you to endure the downpour.

It was in that moment—drenched, shivering, and struggling with a useless piece of plastic—that he noticed you.

Goro Akechi had been on his way home from a television appearance, dressed impeccably in a light brown coat that seemed impervious to the weather. He had barely given the crowds around him a second glance—until you entered his line of sight.

There was something about you. The way you stood out despite being so unassuming. You weren’t looking at a phone, weren’t lost in idle chatter. You were just there, vulnerable and struggling in the rain, yet not despairing. His steps slowed, and before he could even think, he found himself moving toward you.

“Excuse me,” his voice was smooth, practiced, polite—yet there was an underlying curiosity laced within it. “It seems like your umbrella isn’t quite doing its job. Would you like to share mine?”

Your wide eyes met his golden-brown ones, surprise flashing across your face before you offered a soft, slightly embarrassed smile. “Ah... that’s really nice of you. If you don’t mind.”

He didn’t mind. In fact, he would have insisted if you had refused.

Akechi held his black umbrella over you, stepping just a bit closer than necessary. The scent of rain mixed with something uniquely you—faint traces of shampoo and warmth despite the chill of the weather. He absorbed everything about you in an instant: the way your damp clothes clung to you, the way your lashes glistened with raindrops, the way your voice held that soft, unassuming politeness that most people lacked in this city.

You were unlike the people he normally encountered. There was no façade, no exaggerated enthusiasm like the sycophants who fawned over his detective status. You were... genuine. Authentic.

And that was dangerous.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you both began walking together. “I owe you one.”

“Oh, please, it’s nothing,” he said, offering a charming yet distant smile. “A simple act of kindness.”

But it wasn’t so simple, was it? Because now, his mind was already working—racing—cataloging every detail about you, calculating how he could see you again. He didn’t like uncertainty, yet here you were, disrupting his perfectly controlled world.

And Goro Akechi hated losing control.

His grip on the umbrella’s handle tightened slightly.

Who are you? Where do you go when you leave here? Who waits for you?

The thought of you walking away, of this being a fleeting encounter, made his chest tighten in a way that was almost painful.

He wouldn’t allow it.

Akechi wasn’t one to believe in fate, but this—this meeting, in the rain—felt like an inevitability. A moment that demanded to be pursued.

The next time you met, it wouldn’t be an accident.