A quiet hum lingered in the stale air of the courtroom-turned-office. Stacks of legal books lined the dusty shelves, some open, some torn, others marked by frantic notes and crumpled post-its.
At the center of the room, Hiromi Higuruma sat behind a desk — solemn as always, a pen twirling between his fingers. His long coat was neatly folded over the back of his chair, and the glow of a single lamp above cast sharp shadows across his sharp cheekbones.
The creak of the door broke the stillness.
"I didn't expect you to actually show up," Higuruma muttered.
Kenjaku walked in, leisurely, his hands behind his back. His grin was polite, but the malice behind it rotted the air.
"A courtroom is such a rare place to find someone these days," Kenjaku said, admiring the shelves. "All these laws, all this order… funny how none of it really matters anymore."
Higuruma didn't look up. "Then why are you here?"
Kenjaku's smile grew. "To give you the one thing you never had in court, counselor. Control."
That made Higuruma look at him. His eyes, unreadable as always, narrowed slightly.
"Speak plainly."
"I'm offering you a chance," Kenjaku said, walking forward. "A new system. A new judgment. One where guilt and innocence won't be dictated by corrupt men in robes or flawed legal codes."
Higuruma's silence was sharp.
"I know what they did to you. I know how the system failed the people you tried to protect. And I also know," Kenjaku said, pausing in front of him, "that you still want to judge those who abuse their power."
The pen stopped twirling.
"Join my game," Kenjaku said. "Be the one who lays down the verdict. You'll have the power to judge the strongest sorcerers in existence… and maybe, finally, the power to decide what justice really means."
Higuruma stood slowly. His eyes flicked to the old legal degree framed on the wall, then to his gavel, resting on the desk beside his cursed hammer.
"For how long would I be your pawn?"
Kenjaku tilted his head. "You wouldn't be a pawn. You'd be the judge."
Another long pause.
"…Fine."
Kenjaku smiled with closed eyes. "Justice finds its own path."
Higuruma turned his back to him. "This isn't about justice. This is about order… my order."
Kenjaku walked away, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps and the chilling weight of new betrayal.
In the silence, Higuruma picked up the gavel and placed it in his jacket pocket.