My Psychological Crime Thriller SNAFU.

Chapter 0

"Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love."

-Bedelia Du Maurier, Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 4

She slumbered peacefully when I entered her jail cell. I wanted to catch her as she slept, it would make things easier.

And a part of me still enjoyed seeing her asleep. She heard me enter and started waking up, stretching like a cat fresh from a nap.

Her mannerisms always were feline.

That's why we contradict each other so fittingly.

I would describe myself as an animal, I'd most definitely be a dog. Man's Best Friend is loyal and empathic, as well as the animal most used by military and law enforcement for their usefulness. Just like me, except for the best friend part but I am the go-to agent when law enforcement agencies are out of their depths. And as a criminal profiler, I pride myself in being a good judge of character just like dogs.

By contrast she was a cat; a creature that prides its elegance and holds its refinement so dear. Even by the way she moved spoke cat-like. How she stretches and takes the lightest step that doesn't echo like mine, how she pesters you for attention until you finally submit to her needs, how she can sleep practically anywhere when it gets too hot or when she becomes violent if you wake her up from her beauty sleep.

I've actually never liked cats. They're selfish and mean spirited, exactly how I'd thought about her once. After sometime I grew to enjoy their company, and before long, I felt happiness whenever I was around a cat.

A happiness that became a trauma after seeing what she was like out of her person-suit.

She looks at me with her superior blue eyes and does a few more unnecessary stretches, teasing me with how her prisoner shirt rides up, showing me a hint of her flat stomach's perfect pale skin. I remember it vividly, almost as much as the crime scene photos of her victims scarred permanently into my brain.

"Hello Hachiman." She greets, so elegantly, so politely that it makes the pits of my stomach convulse and raise its acidity to the point that my chest feels like it's being stabbed.

"Hello, Dr. Yukinoshita." I can't call her anything else. To me that's how I should always call her. Nothing less out of respect to the others of her profession, and nothing more after out of the horrors of what she did.

An overexaggerated pout was the only warning I got. It's fake. A simple means to make a jab at the professional barrier I'm putting up.

I know that's what she's doing.

Because I know when she reacts, I know when an emotion is genuine to her, I know what she'll do next.

I know…

…because it's my job to know how a serial killer thinks.

And I know Dr. Yukinoshita better than most because I'm the one who caught her.

"Techically, it's still Hikigaya until the divorce is finalized…"

And before that…married to her.

AN: Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected.

I'll be honest. This came as result from binge-watching the show Hannibal and thinking how much Hachiman reminds me of the character of Will Graham. I'll be honest, just put a few years on a Hachiman, add a pair of glasses and a five o'clock shadow and you get an anime version of S1 Will Graham.

I plan to write a few chapters but I need to get this out of the way first as an important marker since Hannibal came before the story Red Dragon. And this scene was needed to establish the future, something Hannibal didn't need to do.