Kaede’s instincts were stronger than this, she knew that. Her detective husband ensured she learned how to stay alert and wary of shifty people.

But Korekiyo was a friend, so she applied none of that training. She was a pianist and he an anthropologist, so his promise of teaching her ancient ritualistic songs was an enticing prospect. Since childhood, Kaede had been called “piano freak”. Her love for it had blossomed into a successful music career, performing for the wealthy inside golden concert halls.

But the room she stood in now was small, confined, no decorations or even a piano in sight. She turned to see Korekiyo blocking the door, pointing a long knife at her.

“Thank you for coming,” he said casually. “You always were easy to manipulate.”

Kaede trembled before him. “Shuichi will catch you, Kiyo,” she said weakly, unthreatening.

Korekiyo laughed and twirled the knife. “Oh, I doubt that. He still hasn’t deduced me as the Maiden Slayer, and your death will lead him no closer, even if you’re his wife. I’m actually thrilled to be claiming a life as renowned as yours. It’ll make the headlines, and the young females who sincerely mourn your loss will make perfect future targets.”

Kaede couldn’t believe this. Korekiyo was a friend from school. A bit unnerving at times, but always easy to converse with. He was calm, intelligent—but that also meant he was calculating.

He had a plan, and Kaede had none.

But she recalled what Shuichi had taught her for a situation like this: keep the culprit talking whilst searching for an escape route.

“I thought we were good friends, Kiyo,” said Kaede, eyes trained on his knife. “Why would you want me dead?”

Korekiyo stepped forward. “It’s because you’re a good friend that I’m doing this.”

Kaede eyed her surroundings, keeping Korekiyo within sight. They were in a small concrete cube, secured—no windows, no grates, not even a mouse hole. Only a door, which didn’t click after Korekiyo had shut it, so it likely had no lock. And he had just taken a step away from it and towards her. Confronting Korekiyo directly would be unwise—he was taller with longer limbs and wielding a knife, whereas Kaede merely had a backpack containing a spare vest. Her only chance of escape was to coax him away from the door and somehow outmaneuver him.

“I’ve never heard of someone who kills their good friends,” she said, stepping back against the wall, and sure enough, Korekiyo took another step closer. She would need to act soon.

“I only do so for my beloved sister,” said Korekiyo, his tone solemn. “I was distraught after her untimely passing. She had no friends in life, but she will have them in death. You are worthy to be her newest addition.”

Kaede held onto one thought: keep him talking, keep him talking. “What makes you think I’ll want to be her friend? I’ll ignore her to spite you. My death would be a waste.”

Another step forward. “The afterlife is cold and lonely. Companionship is a must, and you will go to my sister with open arms. I chose you because I know that for certain.” Korekiyo’s body began to shake, his eyes glazing over. He cradled himself tightly, the knife no longer aimed at her. “Oh sister, please accept this offering. For the first time I am sending you one of my friends. She will be the best one yet. I will miss her, but your happiness comes first.”

During this time, while he was distracted, Kaede removed her backpack and unzipped it. She finally had a plan, and Korekiyo was far enough away from the door. This was her chance.

“I’ll miss you, too, Kiyo,” she said mockingly, regaining his attention, the knife once again pointed at her. “Tell your sister to wait a little longer!”

She lunged at him, thrusting her open backpack to swallow the hand holding the knife. The thick vest within tangled him, and she punched his head and darted for the door. A fierce tug of the handle and she was out, sprinting through the empty halls of the barren facility, praying that Korekiyo’s longer legs wouldn’t let him catch up to her.

He never did, and he was never seen again. Kaede was his first victim to escape, and she knew him personally, so an arrest would’ve been swift. Where he vanished to, no one knew, but the Maiden Slayer never struck again.