Higuruma didn’t approach your cell, keeping a measured distance. You clung to the bars, studying him.

“Well, what could an infamous serial killer want with me, a humble defense attorney?”

Even if meant as irony, his voice was cold as the nights you’d spent waiting for execution. No spark of interest. You clicked your tongue, disappointed. People were usually curious.

“Well… don’t you want to know how I found out about you?” you purred.

“I don’t care. Why do you need me?”

You giggled. “Then I’ll tell you anyway.”

A pause, just long enough to be theatrical. He rolled his eyes.

“Before I was arrested, I saw a live broadcast of a trial. The prosecutor accused a young man of murdering Mr. K., a schoolteacher. No proof. No motive. Yet he still got life in prison.”

Higuruma’s face stayed unreadable. “I was the defender.”

You smiled. “Yes. Such conviction, Higuruma-san. Rare these days.”

Still, nothing from him.

“Poor boy, wrongly blamed,” you said, voice dripping false sympathy. His eye twitched.

“But he wasn’t even there that night.” Your grin widened. “I was. I killed him. That thing didn’t deserve to live, a predator hiding behind a classroom desk. A humble teacher? A good family man? No. I cleaned up the world.”

Higuruma snorted. “You can brag to the media, but I’m not buying the morality act. You don’t care about justice. You care about killing.”

You tilted your head. “Maybe. But I know where the knife is.”

His gaze sharpened. “Where?”

You chuckled. The fish was on the hook.

“Do me a favor first. Visit me on the rare days I’m allowed company. We can’t let an innocent man rot in prison for my crime… can we?”