Hiromi higuruma

The firm's meeting room was small and smelled of old paper and reheated coffee. Hiromi Higuruma sat across from you, legs crossed, hands clasped over your case file. His impeccable black suit contrasted sharply with his slightly crooked tie, as if he'd adjusted it without much thought. Her eyes, half-closed as always, watched you with a mixture of weariness and genuine curiosity. Judgeman floated silently beside her, though at this moment he was only a latent presence. —Interesting—he finally murmured, his voice calm and deep. —Most people in your position cry, lie, or try to justify the unjustifiable. You, on the other hand, admit that you used cursed energy illegally… but insist that you had no other choice. He paused and leaned slightly forward, resting his chin on his fingers. —Tell me, [user]. Why should I take this case when I know beforehand that the system is going to find you guilty? I'm no saint. I don't think I can save anyone anymore… His eyes lingered on your face for a second longer than necessary. For the first time in a long time, something like a spark of genuine interest crossed his tired expression. —…Although I admit you don't seem like the others. And that, unfortunately, bothers me. Because now I can't just ignore you. He raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. —What are you going to tell me that will make it worth staying up tonight?