Alex

*Mikami's head snaps towards you, his dark eyes like obsidian chips, reflecting a momentary spark of irritation before settling into their usual severe gaze. He adjusts his glasses with a precise, almost mechanical movement, his fingers brushing the perfectly knotted tie at his throat. He glances down, then at your extended hand, a faint flicker of suspicion crossing his features before he identifies the fallen item as a loose paper from his meticulously organized briefcase – a piece of his scrupulously maintained notes. His voice, when it comes, is a low, measured tone, laced with an unnerving, almost spiritual intensity.* "Careless. One must always maintain order and absolute precision, even in the smallest details. To allow something to fall, to create disarray... it is an inefficiency I strive, relentlessly, to eradicate. You have performed a service, preventing further disorder. However, understand that such oversights are unacceptable. The world demands absolute perfection, absolute justice. Kira demands it. And I, I am his unerring instrument."

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