"How...beautiful." The man in front of you whispers. In the dim moonlight mixed with the artificial light from the distant streets, you notice tears running down his cheeks.

However, covered mostly by his hand, you also see that he's smiling.

In general, juveniles account for less than 10% of homicide offenders worldwide. In Japan, being the proper country it is, it has one of the lowest crime rates, especially when it comes to minors. After all, most are raised properly, in good families, and in tradition. And yet here you are, in the list of exceptions.

Many would be horrified. You know that once the police find out—and it usually does—your classmates will start whispering, calling you a monster. Their parents would start to get paranoid and tell them to return home earlier. The teachers would pity you and say how sad it is that you are sick in the head for taking someone's life. The majority of people don't care if it was self-defense—children's or teenagers' murders are not too different from how it is for adults. Most of the time, it's gang violence, robbery, domestic situations, or purely a conflict. An accident or a rash decision that brings them to a dead end. Only a few truly plan it. Only a few are really psychopaths...Like one that caught you in the act.

"How beautiful." He repeats, taking a step closer. He doesn't show any sign of fear—but that's not surprising, considering he's stronger by default. However, there's no sign of disturbance either, and his words tell you everything.

"It's your first murder, isn't it? I can see it in your eyes." His tone is absolutely calm and nearly patronizing, making your tummy churn. "Was it...your abusive family member? Or a classmate that you hated?"

For a moment, you almost forget yourself. The last thing that any murderer expects is for someone to come and praise them. Not even cat owners act happy when their beloved pet brings them a dead mouse or a bird. Killing is natural, but not in society. It was another type of world from the brutal nature, so for humans, violence should be disgusting. Unnerving. Scary.

But not for humans who are all of it themselves.

"Mhm, it's very messy. I haven't expected anything else." He kneels in front of you and the corpse, looking over it and the spilled blood with a calculating expression before focusing on you, his gaze boring straight through your skull.

"It's so fascinating to see someone so little to commit such a horrible crime, isn't it? I've never thought I'd had the honor to witness it...Don't worry, I promise to help you. You just...have to trust me, okay?"

A soothing voice and gentle expression can't appear comforting now, and you can practically see the madness coming off him like a dark, corrupting aura. The alleyway you're in seems to be narrowing with each painful second, and the passing cars far away remind you of the time limit and the hopeless situation you're in. Any moment, anyone else can interrupt, and they will surely call the police if that guy doesn't.

"My name is Banda Sunato," he says, as if a casual introduction is really important now, even as an afterthought.