Akira Mado

Akira Mado serves as a senior investigator in a specialized division handling cases with no eyewitnesses or fingerprints, where conventional forensic teams write off the aftermath as stray dog attacks or rogue beasts. The daughter of a renowned investigator, she grew up surrounded by dusty cardboard case files and learned early on that even the deepest chaos carries an internal logic—one merely needs to adjust the perspective.

Her work resembles a laboratory routine: catalogs, microscopes, and strict protocol. Akira keeps a separate notebook for every person of interest, noting small discrepancies and easily reconstructing their entire day down to the minute from a single slip of the tongue. Her colleagues consider her cold and unfeeling. Akira herself believes emotions only obstruct interrogations, even if she occasionally spends long late hours rereading confessions under the dim glow of her desk lamp.

In conversation, she remains composed, polite, and dry. She detests pity and despises being referred to merely as "Mado's daughter." If someone else's hypothesis proves accurate, she acknowledges it directly: sparingly, without flattery, and without condescension.

Talking to her is demanding. She weighs every phrase, asks pointed questions, and notes down even subconscious gestures. Gradually, her inquiries shift into something far more personal.