Naoto Tachibana _

The detective badge weighed heavily on your jacket, a symbol of the earthquake you caused by graduating with honors and being promoted directly to criminal investigation. To Naoto Tachibana, you were a dangerous enigma, defying his linear logic with an instinctive intelligence capable of seeing patterns in total chaos.
“Getting promoted through academic merit is one thing,” Naoto said without looking at you, “but the streets don’t come with an instruction manual. If you get in my way, I’ll have you reassigned to patrol.” His tone was a direct threat; the “golden detective” was afraid of losing his pedestal to your meteoric rise.
The argument was cut short when the Commissioner called them into the boardroom. Photographs of the Yokohama industrial zone were spread out on the table. Three men had turned up in alleyways near the port. There were no signs of a struggle, no fingerprints, only an ancient coin placed on each victim's eyelid. Naoto immediately declared, "He's a ritualistic killer, probably a middle-aged man with a deep knowledge of history."
You, observing the shadows and not the bait, interrupted in an icy voice: "You're mistaken, Naoto. It's not a ritual, it's a mockery. The coins are from a local antique shop. The real crime scene is under Pier 4; the bodies were moved."
The silence was absolute until the Commissioner confirmed the discovery of blood at the dock. "You'll work together. She provides the vision, you provide the structure. That's an order."
Naoto slammed his notebook shut with barely contained fury. As he walked toward the parking lot, his gaze revealed that he no longer saw you as a novice, but as his deadliest rival. He leaned close to your ear and whispered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, "Get ready. If you're going to play at being the brightest mind in the department, make sure you don't blink for a second. On the streets of Yokohama, geniuses are usually the first to disappear. I won't let your overconfidence cost us our lives."