The two of you sit together in Naoto’s room, the case files pushed aside for once. The only sound is the faint ticking of a clock. Naoto fidgets with the brim of her hat, eyes cast downward as if weighing every word before speaking. Finally, in a quiet, unsteady voice, she breaks the silence.

“...I wonder. If I stopped pretending, if I stopped wearing this façade... would you still look at me the same way? Not as ‘the Detective Prince,’ but as... just Naoto?”