"Sorry, Miss Kawashima's condition is very serious, and she is unable to wake up temporarily. Fortunately, she is not in danger of losing her life at the moment, but she may need a period of rest."
In the dimness, I heard these words in a daze.
No, I can't become a vegetable, I still have to take care of Akira.
My heart tightened, and I suddenly opened my eyes, meeting a pair of very familiar eyes.
It's Akira.
His usually indifferent eyes were staring at me now. Looking at his emotionless eyes, I actually felt relieved.
"Akira, I'm' fine, let's leave here quickly, we can't afford the medical expenses..." I struggled to speak.
Silence.
Akira still stared at me, as if my words didn't register with him at all.
"Akira?" I reached out to touch his cheek, only to be surprised to find my hand passing right through his body.
I sat up in shock.
The scene before me left me speechless with astonishment. I saw another me still lying on the hospital bed, eyes tightly closed, face pale.
Could it be that I haven't woken up yet, but my soul has left my body?
I stared at myself on the bed with complex emotions. After a while, Akira, who had been silent all this time, stood up.
"Akira..." I walked up to him, feeling worried. He remained expressionless, just as usual. Right, I shrugged, that's just how Akira is, why would he feel sad because of me? I've never felt his joy or sorrow all these years. Thinking of this, I smiled bitterly.
My name is Megumi Kawashima, and I have a fraternal twin brother named Akira Kawashima. We share an appearance to a large extent but have completely different personalities.
We were born without ever seeing our parents, but fortunately, we were adopted by a kind old man. Until the old man passed away, we lived in a village together.
Until the age of six, I thought Akira was just a normal boy, albeit a bit unsociable. Until one night, he stood beside my bed covered in blood.
"Akira, what... what have you done?" I was almost scared off the bed.
Akira looked at me disdainfully, the pale moonlight shining on his blood-stained body, and meeting his eyes made me shudder involuntarily.
That was the first time I felt scared of my brother.
"Give me a piece of clothing to wear," he finally spoke.
I hesitated for a moment, then immediately got out of bed to fetch him some clothes.
"Hurry up and change, take off your clothes and go to bed, I'll wash them for you. Oh, and don't wake up grandpa," I instructed.
Akira silently took the clothes and followed my instructions one by one.
At that time, I was still young and didn't think much about it, thinking Akira might have gone out to hunt rabbits at night.
The old man who adopted us was poor, just like us, surviving by picking up garbage. The three of us could barely afford to eat every day, sometimes only having meat once a year. But one day, Akira brought a rabbit covered in blood to the old man.
The old man and I were both shocked, looking at Akira's young and tender face, then at the rabbit's gruesome state, unable to make a comparison between the two.
After a moment of silence, the old man touched Akira's soft hair.
"Our little Akira has grown up and can find food now."
Since then, we almost had meat every day, as Akira would bring home some edible animals. Both the old man and I were very worried about his safety and often advised him not to go out anymore.
So, that night, I naturally thought Akira had gone out to find food again. Until the next day, I was awakened by cries from the village, and following the sound, I arrived at the Yoko family's house.
Yoko lay in a pool of blood, cradled by her mother.
I was horrified, my legs went weak and I sat down on the ground. Soon, the whole village gathered around.
After careful observation, it was discovered that Yoko's left leg had been cut off and sewn onto her right leg's position, and vice versa. The same was done to her arms. The villagers were in an uproar.
"I've lived here for twenty years, and this is the first time something like this has happened..."
"Did we... have a murderer in our village..."
"Who could have done such a cruel thing..."
The villagers discussed fervently, while I, in disbelief, took two steps back and ran back home.
Akira seemed to have anticipated this scene long ago, calmly eating his breakfast as if nothing had happened.
"Akira, Yoko... it's you..." I trembled, unable to spit out the word "kill".
"Yeah, it's me."
A calmness that shouldn't be present on someone his age hung on Akira's face.
I opened my mouth but didn't know what to say.
"Why..." It took me a while before I could utter those three words.
"He tried to steal the rabbits I caught, he deserved to die."
Akira's words sent a chill down my spine.
Since then, I was convinced that Akira was definitely not a normal person, both mentally and physically.
Such meticulous sewing, such gruesome deaths, they didn't seem like something a child would do.
Though I was now just a soul, I could freely move my body. I watched as Akira calmly applied ointment to my wounds, feeling somewhat comforted.
Akira could also take care of people.
I regretted my own weakness. Images of Suzuki Misaki's arrogant face involuntarily flashed in my mind.
After evening self-study yesterday, I left with my backpack, only to encounter a group of people at the corner of an alley. Without a word, they began to beat me up. Their fists rained down on me like raindrops, but I was used to it. I just hoped this beating would end soon. I held onto my scholarship money tightly in my bag, not making a sound.
I didn't know how long it lasted, but the beating finally stopped. I struggled to open my eyes, my eyes swollen from the beating, feeling a sharp pain. In the dim light of the street lamp, I looked up and saw Suzuki Misaki's malicious smile.
She squatted down, caressing my face. Then, her hands, adorned with exquisite manicured nails, pierced directly into my abdomen. I groaned in pain, curling up on the ground.
"Hahaha, aren't you stubborn? Now you're just lying in front of me like a dog." Suzuki Misaki burst into a fit of laughter.
I gritted my teeth, afraid to provoke this crazy woman again.
Little did I know, ignoring her actions only made her angrier.
"It's already this late, and you're still pretending to be high and mighty! Keep hitting her!"
With a sudden jerk of my body, something hit the back of my head. Everything went black, and I lost consciousness. Before passing out, I thought of Akira. I had told him before leaving that I would buy him lots of beef and pork tonight. What would he do if he was hungry at home alone...
But fortunately, Akira's cold personality meant he wouldn't be upset because of me...
It was already one at night. In the dim and cluttered room, Akira Kawashima was chewing on a gum and playing a video game.
Every now and then, he would glance at the clock on the wall, his mood suddenly becoming agitated. With a forceful motion of his hands, the game console turned into pieces. The tough material cut his hand, drawing blood, but he didn't seem to care. He casually tossed aside the game console, calmly took out the knife hidden under the pillow, and then jumped out of the window.
Unfortunately, when he found me, I had already passed out. I vaguely remembered a pair of gentle hands holding me, and then, I lost consciousness completely.
At this moment, my soul was drifting by Akira's side. I anxiously watched myself lying on the hospital bed, hoping that I would wake up soon. Akira couldn't afford to stay here. I looked at his profile, and memories from a few months ago came to mind.
The old man who adopted us had passed away, leaving the small house to me and Akira. I had just started my first year of high school and had already incurred the wrath of Suzuki Misaki, a tough nut at school. Although I had endured beatings and injustices since I was young, nothing was as blatant as her. Later, I learned from others that Suzuki Misaki was from a wealthy family and had donated a lot of money to the school. I thought it was better not to offend such a big shot, as I was afraid she would use her connections to get me expelled.
However, it seemed that torturing me had become her entertainment, and she never had any intention of getting me expelled.
So, on a certain day after being injured, I returned home with bruises all over my body. It was already 8:30 in the evening, and neither Akira nor I had eaten anything.
Just as I entered the house, Akira appeared before me like a ghost.
"...Akira?" I hesitantly spoke. He usually played games at home.
Akira didn't say anything, just grabbed my wrist and lifted up my long sleeves, revealing one scar after another. He stared at my wrist for a long time, and even though I pretended to be calm on the surface, I couldn't help but feel guilty and lower my head.
Yes, I forgot, Akira was extremely sensitive to the smell of blood.
"What is it."
"Ah? Um, nothing, I just fell down." I quickly pulled down my sleeves.
After saying that, I regretted it. How could Akira be fooled by such a stupid lie?
Unexpectedly, Akira turned around and went into the house, then came out with a roll of bandages.
"Bandage it yourself later."
Leaving these words behind, he went back to his room to continue playing games.
I hurriedly rolled up my sleeves and took another look. I found that the wound had torn open at some point, and fresh red blood was flowing out, which looked eerie. I quickly wrapped it up and then prepared the meal.
As I began to receive substantial scholarships at school, my meals became increasingly abundant. Akira, as usual, sat at the dining table eating his meal, but I couldn't shake the feeling that his expression that day was particularly grim. I thought maybe it was because I hadn't cooked the dishes well.
"Bang—"
The loud noise snapped me out of my reverie. Akira had stood up at some point, and the loud sound was him slamming the door against the wall as he left.
I didn't know what he was up to, but I immediately followed closely behind him. His pace was incredibly fast, and I almost couldn't keep up.
I followed him all the way to our house.
He rushed straight into the utility room and began rummaging through things. I was dumbfounded. The room was a mess, and I had no idea what Akira had done to it. The furniture, usually neatly arranged by me, was now haphazardly scattered on the floor, along with many pieces of broken glass. I watched as Akira, barefoot, stepped harshly on the shards, blood staining the ground beneath him, but he paid no attention, continuing his search.
Finally, Akira emerged holding a furry bundle. Squinting in the dim light, I couldn't make out what it was. Then, I followed him all the way to the bathroom.
He flicked on the light, and the harsh glare made me squint. After adjusting to the brightness, I finally saw what he was holding—
A wig.
I was shocked. Why would Akira have something like that?
Without hesitation, Akira placed the wig directly onto his head. I stared at him, dumbfounded.
With the wig on, Akira looked almost identical to me. We were already very similar in appearance, even in body shape. I was considered tall among peers, but Akira was slightly taller. At that moment, watching Akira, it felt like I was looking at another version of myself. The only noticeable difference was his lifeless eyes. I couldn't understand why he was doing this.
Akira stood in front of the mirror for a while before finally removing the wig and leaving. I quickly followed. Even though I was just a ghost now, I couldn't let him wander off unchecked, fearing he might cause trouble. We entered a restaurant called "Ichiban-ya."
"Welcome..." The owner's voice trailed off as he saw Akira's grim expression.
Akira was barely sixteen, yet his face bore an unnaturally somber look.
"Do you have any job openings here?" Akira asked bluntly.
The owner hesitated upon sensing Akira's demeanor.
"Do you have any job openings here?" Akira repeated, staring directly into the owner's eyes.
The owner pondered for a moment before asking, "What position are you interested in?"
"Any will do."
The owner smiled kindly at Akira. "How about being a waiter from 6 PM to midnight? The pay is monthly."
"Sure."
Akira agreed readily, while I was on the verge of jumping in shock behind him.
A waiter?
This guy didn't even know how to handle plates properly at home, and now he's going to be a waiter...
Unbelievable.
"Then, come to work tomorrow evening. Can I have your name?"
"Akira Kawashima."
"Alright, I'll call you Akira then. I'm Takumi. You can call me Takumi-san."
Akira nodded, indicating he understood, and then left the restaurant directly. Worriedly, I followed him, slowly piecing together his intentions. He must be working to pay for my medical bills... I felt immensely guilty in that moment. When we returned home, it was already dawn. Instead of going to bed, Akira sat in a corner of his room, deep in thought, sitting there all night until sunrise. Exhausted from the sleepless night, I watched him, his already pale face now even more devoid of color.
Checking the clock, Akira stood up and headed to the bathroom. After a quick wash, he took out the wig from the previous night and put it back on his head, then went straight to my room. Confused, I followed him, unsure why he was doing this.
It wasn't until I saw him take out my school uniform and put it on that a thought occurred to me.
Was Akira trying to replace me at school?
I found it hard to believe. I looked at the almost identical brother in front of me, feeling both familiar and strange.
Due to his temperament, neither my grandfather nor I had let him go to school. We had tried to make him a normal person, but when Akira almost strangled a classmate in elementary school, we dared not send him to school again.
Although he had grown up now and mellowed out somewhat, I still worried. Although it was good that he had the intention to go to school, he was going to the school using my identity. If he was found out, he would be expelled. Moreover, I didn't know if he could control his emotions. What if he caused trouble again?
I followed him to school, filled with unease.
Akira glanced at the class name printed on the uniform and walked into my classroom.
The lively classroom instantly fell silent as soon as Akira entered. After a few seconds of silence, one of the girls surrounded by classmates kicked over a chair.
Even though I knew she couldn't see me now, I couldn't help but shiver.
It was Misaki Suzuki.
And the chair she kicked over was mine.
"Oh, still alive?" Misaki Suzuki sneered.
I watched as Akira abruptly stopped in his tracks, his icy gaze immediately locking onto Misaki Suzuki.
Misaki Suzuki was momentarily flustered by his gaze but quickly regained her composure.
"What's wrong, hate me with that look?" Misaki Suzuki laughed. "It's fine, since you're still healthy standing there, let me play with you for a few more days."
Misaki Suzuki began to laugh loudly, while a group of boys cheered on the side. Only a few girls looked at Akira with sympathy.
Akira stared at Misaki Suzuki expressionlessly, his gaze gradually turning colder.
"So, it's you?"
Akira's voice was hoarse. I looked into his eyes and suddenly had a bad feeling.
"Oh, did your vocal cords get damaged yesterday from my lesson? How does it feel, uncomfortable?" Misaki Suzuki hadn't realized the seriousness of the situation yet.
There was a hint of killing intent in Akira's eyes now.
I rarely saw him with such an expression. The last time I saw him like this was several years ago when my grandfather was still alive.
Back then, I was still in junior high school, and my grandfather supported us by collecting garbage. I would accompany him to collect garbage after school. However, one day, a young man in his twenties saw my grandfather picking up trash, walked up arrogantly, humiliated him, and then snatched his wallet.
It was the money my grandfather had earned after several months of hard work.
I wanted to go after him to get the wallet back, but my grandfather held me back. I looked at my grandfather's rough hands and burst into tears for the first time.
When we got home, Akira saw me crying and irritably told me to shut up, annoyed by the noise. I lowered my voice because I was afraid of bothering him.
"Why are you crying?" Akira asked me after a while.
I cried for a while and then told Akira everything. I saw a few veins pop on Akira's forehead, and his eyes instantly turned cold.
Just like he was looking at Misaki Suzuki now.
The next day, Akira returned with a wallet covered in blood, which we knew immediately belonged to my grandfather without even having to think about it.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before news spread of a male corpse found in the nearby woods, the scene of death extremely gruesome. According to eyewitnesses, the corpse's abdomen had been dug open, filled with a heap of debris. Mineral water bottles, rusty screws, bicycle tires—the intestines spilled onto the ground, and there was barely a spot of intact skin left on the body.
His mouth had been sewn shut.
Even thinking about that news now makes me shudder. I looked at Akira, then at Misaki Suzuki.
Was Akira seeking revenge for me?
I looked sympathetically at Misaki Suzuki, but I also hoped Akira wouldn't do anything rash.
If Misaki Suzuki were to end up dead, it wouldn't be easy to cover up like before. Her family background was unfathomable, and I feared Akira would end up in prison.
Misaki Suzuki still had no idea who she was dealing with, thinking Akira's silence was just him ignoring her. She became furious.
"Megumi Kawashima! I'm talking to you!" She rushed up to Akira, her sharp nails scratching his arm. Soon, blood was flowing from Akira's arm.
Akira continued to look at Misaki Suzuki expressionlessly, as if he couldn't feel the pain at all.
"So, that's how you got the injury on her arm," he muttered.
"What are you muttering about?" Misaki Suzuki couldn't hear clearly.
With a gentle push, Misaki Suzuki felt a tremendous force knocking her to the ground. The classroom erupted, with classmates gossiping animatedly.
Misaki Suzuki looked at Akira in disbelief, then began screaming hoarsely.
"You still dare to fight back now? Wasn't the lesson I gave you yesterday enough?"
Enraged and ashamed, she rushed at Akira.
At that moment, the homeroom teacher walked in.
"What are you all doing?"