Akira was taken to the police station.
"Miss Kawashima, as a classmate of the victim Chizuru and someone who was at the crime scene around the same time, please cooperate with us and provide a statement."
Akira Kawashima sat in the interrogation room, playing with a strand of his long hair, across from a stern-faced officer.
"Don't you have anything to say?" The officer frowned as Akira remained silent, apparently ignoring him. I was anxiously pacing nearby, fearing that the police would discover everything Akira had done.
"Just ask what you want directly," Akira's fingers still tangled in his hair.
The officer paused before speaking slowly, "Your classmates told me that there was a grudge between you and the victim, Chizuru?"
"Yes."
"What exactly was the grudge?"
Akira stared at the officer for a moment before laughing.
"Officer, are you really unaware, or are you pretending not to know?"
The officer was momentarily at a loss for words.
"Since you can find out from my classmates that there was a grudge between us, wouldn't you also know what the grudge was about?" Akira looked at him with a mocking smile.
"We conduct our investigations rigorously, gathering clues from everyone involved."
"And if what I say differs from what others say, wouldn't you think I'm lying?"
Akira finally met the officer's gaze. The officer shivered involuntarily at the sight.
The girl's eyes were as calm as dead water, her pale skin almost translucent against her dark hair. Her gaze was so serene that the officer couldn't read any emotions.
"We will fairly and impartially judge the veracity of everyone's statements. So, please cooperate and answer truthfully."
Akira's fingers resumed twirling his hair. "It's not a big deal, just some minor squabbles between classmates."
I was impressed by Akira's intelligence as I listened anxiously. By not detailing the bullying incidents, he minimized his own suspicion, making the police believe there was no significant grudge. He also counted on her classmates to support Chizuru and not reveal her wrongdoings.
The officer's expression showed that our assumptions were correct.
"Next question, what were you doing in the restroom during class?"
Akira pretended to recall, rubbing his temples.
"My milk spilled all over my desk, so I went to the restroom to get some paper to clean it up."
The officer nodded, not doubting his explanation. I slapped my forehead, realizing why Akira had left the restroom early and reentered through a window from an unmonitored area. Surveillance footage would indeed show Akira leaving the restroom early, followed by Chizuru running in holding her stomach.
"Did you see anyone or anything suspicious in the restroom?" The officer lowered his voice, staring intently at Akira.
"I didn't see anything unusual; everything seemed normal," Akira replied confidently. "However, I'm not sure if there was anyone in the other stalls."
The officer's frown deepened, clearly considering this possibility.
I almost laughed; Akira's seemingly casual remark reinforced one of the police's theories.
"Alright, we have no further questions for now. I'll take you out, but we'll need to stay in touch over the next few days. Please be ready to come back if needed."
I sighed with relief, silently following Akira as we left the interrogation room. In the hallway, Akira ran into Mr. Tanaka, who had also been brought in for questioning.
"Megumi, you're here too?" Mr. Tanaka asked in surprise, then noticed the officer behind Akira. "Officer, you're not suspecting Megumi, are you?"
The officer nodded, then shook his head. "Just asked a few simple questions."
Mr. Tanaka sighed. "Officer, you may not know this, but this kid… anyway, she's definitely not the culprit."
I forced a smile. Indeed, how could a weak and bullied girl like me be such a cruel murderer? Every time I think of Akira's methods, I still feel a pang of fear. Megumi Kawashima could never do something like this, but standing in front of them was Akira Kawashima.
With the teacher's confirmation, the police's suspicion of Akira lessened, and they even sent someone to escort him home. Seeing Akira safely home, I felt relieved.
Once at home, Akira first carefully drew the curtains, then removed his wig. At that moment, he shed his identity as Megumi Kawashima and returned to being my brother, Akira Kawashima. He tidied up briefly and lay down on the bed, wrapping himself tightly in the covers, leaving not a sliver of skin exposed.
I felt at a loss. This guy was going to bed without having dinner.
Due to our financial situation, we didn't have much to eat, but I tried to ensure three meals a day with good nutrition. Because of Akira's situation, I kept him from going out to avoid any more trouble. Therefore, getting food fell on my shoulders. I would go to the market before dawn to get the cheapest beef and catch fish in the creek. During that time, I had dark circles under my eyes and fingers whitened from water. But whenever Akira saw me bringing food home, he would throw the bowl and tell me he didn't like it. Yet, day after day, I continued making nutritious meals and serving them to him until he finally compromise.
"Let me buy the groceries." he said, staring at his rice.
I shook my head immediately.
"No, Akira. It's too crowded outside, and I'm afraid you might get… hurt."
I found the statement laughable even as I said it. Who would be in danger after all?
Akira understood my unspoken words and looked at me.
"I won't kill anyone again," he said, his eyes still so indifferent that I couldn't tell what he was thinking.
Seeing his eyes, I suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
I had sacrificed so much for Akira, enduring daily struggles and fears while constantly fearing the scrutiny of the police. It would be a lie to claim I endured without any resentment. Yet, despite everything, I could not bring myself to hate him. Given the chance to start over, I would make the same choices. Everything I did for him was not coerced but willingly given. Perhaps harboring hatred might offer some solace, but I couldn't bring myself to despise him. My heart remained heavy with sorrow. I was troubled by the coldness in his eyes, his unchanging calm demeanor, and his impatience with me. Still, my love for him persisted. I loved him deeply and was prepared to give everything for him.
He was the person in the world most like me, yet also the most unlike me.
I had always indulged him, but that day, we had a heated argument.
"Akira Kawashima, are you not satisfied with the trouble you've already caused me? How could I dare let you go out? I do things for you without asking for anything in return. All I ask is that you accept these things, nothing more. But why do you always fail to see what I've done for you? Why must you always be so cold, so distant? My kindness to you feels like it's absorbed into a void; the hurt is mine alone. Akira Kawashima, are you even human? Why can't I feel your heartbeat? Why is it so difficult to sense your emotions—your joy, your anger, your sadness?"" I said all this in one breath, gasping for air and clutching my chest.
In the end, I looked at him in disappointment and said the final words.
"You shouldn't be so silent."
By now, I wasn't afraid of whether it would anger him. Even if it meant giving my life for him, I accepted it. Perhaps I would be relieved.
Unexpectedly, he didn't reveal his cruel nature as I had feared but simply looked at me quietly. I didn't dare look into his eyes, only feeling tears spilling out, one drop after another, until they flowed more and more.
This was the first time I had ever cried in front of Akira. I was different from him; I had emotions and could feel deeply hurt. When all my efforts were met with cold rejection, it was a pain that pierced my heart.
It hurt so much, like a wet cotton stuck in my chest. Sometimes I asked myself what I was doing this for. I didn't know. I just looked at him, my tears blurring my vision.
Eventually, I cried myself out and collapsed onto the floor.
Akira seemed a bit dazed before slowly reaching out, his fingertips trembling slightly as he touched my cheek and gently wiped away my tears. My tears turned into shimmering droplets on his fingertips, disappearing into the air.
"Sorry, sis," Akira whispered.
I was momentarily at a loss. This was the first time he had called me that and the first time he had such close contact with me. I sobbed but remained silent, though my tears seemed to slowly stop. I felt the warmth of his fingertips and the steady beat of his heart, and my sense of grievance seemed to dissipate a little.
He stiffly moved the corners of his mouth, as if trying to force a smile.
"Sorry, sis. I'll try to understand you. I won't make you sad again."
I won't make you sad again.
Those words instantly soothed all my sadness, and I fell into a drowsy sleep. The next morning, I rubbed my eyes and saw Akira busy in the kitchen. His figure looked especially gentle under the dim light, like a warm painting. The air was filled with a fragrant aroma, softly drifting into my nose. Seeing me awake, Akira quickly served the food.
He still looked cold, but I realized he might not know how to express his emotions. I didn't need to push him too hard.
"Did you go grocery shopping?" I broke the silence.
"Yes," Akira said nonchalantly, taking a bite of meat. "I didn't cause any trouble."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
From then on, he took over the task of buying groceries. He indeed kept his promise and didn't cause any more trouble.
His actions did alleviate some of my burdens. I could spend more time studying, resting, and wasn't as sleepy during the day at school.
But I didn't expect that, once I left, he would even skip dinner. I felt a pang of concern as I looked at him wrapped in the covers. He was growing and needed to eat. I quietly sat by his bed, waiting. I thought I would have to watch over him until dawn, but just two hours later, he woke up.
Then he quickly put on his shoes and left.
I followed him closely and found that he had entered the restaurant where he had previously applied for a job. Takumi seemed pleasantly surprised to see him.
Many people had claimed they would work for him before but had mostly stood him up. He thought Akira was just another fleeting interest, but he actually showed up.
"Welcome. You're quite punctual," Uncle Takumi said, handing Akira a set of work clothes.
Without a word, Akira changed and started working.
The restaurant's lighting was warm and soft, creating an inviting ambiance as customers enjoyed their meals and conversations at their tables. In one corner of the room, Akira's presence was especially striking. Clad in a crisp uniform, his expression remained neutral, his eyes distant and detached.
Despite his youth, Akira moved with remarkable efficiency. He glided through the restaurant with silent precision, balancing a tray laden with steaming coffee and tantalizing dishes. His steps were light and steady, showcasing an innate grace, while his demeanor appeared detached and indifferent to his surroundings.
Watching his figure, I couldn't help but feel that he had matured significantly.
I smiled. Akira, I'm proud of you.