Akira was brought back to the police station. The sky was overcast, and the rain pattered against the windows, creating a rhythmic sound. Akira sat in the familiar interrogation room, surrounded by cold metal furniture, with a flickering video camera on the table. His wrists were handcuffed, and he leaned slightly forward, yet his gaze was remarkably calm, as if the impending interrogation had nothing to do with him.
The police officer walked in, looking serious. The interrogation unfolded through a series of questions and answers.
"Kawashima Megumi," a young officer asked softly, his tone surprisingly gentle, "do you admit to killing Suzuki Misaki and several others?"
Akira nodded, his face betraying no emotions.
"Good. Since you've confessed, we can delve deeper into this. Can you tell us why you killed them?" The officer jotted down Akira's confession in his notebook, his tone filled with expectation.
Akira remained silent, his eyes downcast.
"Ms. Kawashima, please cooperate with us." The officer's voice maintained its patience, trying to reach Akira.
But Akira continued to say nothing.
The officer's impatience grew evident as he raised his voice slightly: "You should know that refusing to answer our questions will delay the case. We need a clear motive to proceed!"
Akira still did not speak, his gaze icy, as if looking at something—or perhaps at nothing at all. His silence thickened the atmosphere in the interrogation room.
As time passed, the officers began to adopt different strategies. An experienced middle-aged officer entered, wearing an understanding smile.
"Ms. Kawashima, you know we're all here to seek the truth. Everyone has their story, and I'd love to hear yours."
Akira still said nothing, even closing his eyes.
"I believe that only by understanding your story can we find a solution and give you true relief." The middle-aged officer kept his tone friendly, but Akira's stubbornness left him feeling helpless. Finally, one officer could not contain himself and stood up angrily, slamming his hand on the table, raising his voice: "What you're doing is avoiding responsibility, do you understand? Murder is no small matter! Do you know how the law will treat you?"
Akira finally lifted his head, defiance flashing in his eyes. "Do you think I'm afraid at this point?" His voice was as sharp as a cold blade, piercing to the heart.
The interrogation proceeded with great difficulty. Despite the officers' best efforts, they could not pry any motive from Akira, who remained impassive, leaving them to withdraw their hands helplessly in front of his unyielding expression. For the police, Akira's silence was like an unsolvable puzzle, leaving them frantic yet unable to find a breakthrough.
Then one day, Takumi entered the interrogation room, his eyes reflecting weariness. He knew that Akira had killed his daughter, Suzuki Misaki. Though his heart was filled with sorrow, he bore no resentment towards this pitiful child.
"Megumi," Takumi's voice was low, as if calling an old friend.
Akira looked up, complex emotions flashing in his eyes. Seeing Takumi stirred a warmth within him, a feeling he had never experienced before. Takumi pulled out a few steaming plates of food from his backpack, the aroma filling the air—exactly what Akira loved to eat.
"I brought you something to eat." Takumi set the dishes down, his tone laced with concern, yet he mentioned nothing about the murder case.
Akira's heart trembled, tears welling up instantly. The emotions he had suppressed for so long finally broke through at that moment. Since arriving in this world, aside from his sister, he had never felt such genuine care. The deep-seated desire for paternal love within him was ruthlessly torn open.
"Uncle Takumi... I..." Akira choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks, his voice low and helpless.
"Don't say anything." Takumi gently patted his shoulder, a hint of pain and understanding in his eyes. "I know you've been through a lot. You don't have to talk if you don't want to. You're not a bad kid; you're just dealing with everything in the wrong way."
These words struck Akira like a heavy blow. He had never thought that Takumi would see him this way, and warmth and gratitude surged within him. He finally let down his guard and, like a child, began to confess to Takumi why he had killed.
"I'm not Kawashima Megumi; I'm her brother, Kawashima Akira. They killed my sister." Akira's voice gradually lowered. "She was the only person in this world who cared for me. I hate those people; they must pay the price. Chizuru was killed by me, Riko was killed by me, Mai was killed by me... Those people, they were all killed by me, but it only brought me fleeting joy. Now my heart feels so heavy, like it's missing a piece. I don't know why."
"I just want it all to end..." Akira's voice trembled, a torrent of emotions almost overwhelming him.
Takumi was taken aback.
"Megumi, what are you saying? How can you be a boy?"
Kawashima Akira trembled slightly, a storm brewing within him: "I really am..." He reached to pull off the wig he was wearing, but a sharp pain stopped him; it wouldn't come off. In that moment, fear coursed through his heart like electricity. He tightened his grip, feeling his hair being painfully tugged at his fingertips.
Strands of hair came out, and with that pain, Akira looked in horror at the clumps of hair on the floor, as if witnessing his shattered soul. The panic and helplessness inside him surged like a tidal wave. His heart raced violently, and the unbearable shock caused his vision to blur, ultimately leading him to faint.
Kawashima Megumi opened her eyes to find herself staring at a pristine white ceiling. Looking down, she realized she was wearing a hospital gown. Everything about her indicated that she was in a completely different environment.
"How did this happen? Wasn't I just at the police station?" Her thoughts were chaotic as she tried to piece together what had just occurred.
"Kawashima Megumi, you're finally awake." A familiar voice came through. Megumi instinctively looked up to see Watanabe Makoto standing at her bedside, his eyes full of concern.
"You've been in a coma for an entire month. My injuries have healed, and you still haven't woken up." Watanabe pointed to his neck, managing a weak smile to mask his inner tension. "You really hit hard; I nearly didn't make it out of that forest."
Megumi was filled with confusion, vaguely listening to Watanabe while her mind replayed the scenes before she lost consciousness. She grabbed Watanabe's arm, her tone urgent and panicked: "Why do you all call me Kawashima Megumi? I'm clearly Kawashima Akira; I've said it many times."
Watanabe looked at her, sighed, and his eyes showed compassion and sympathy. "I never thought you would have such a severe mental illness." He gently handed her a diagnosis report, his gaze filled with helplessness. "While you were unconscious, the doctor examined you, and you have a very serious case of dissociative identity disorder."
Megumi took the medical report and quickly read through it, panic rising within her, her emotions escalating. Finally, she could no longer contain herself and ripped the report into shreds, the paper fluttering down like her inner turmoil and rage.
"It's impossible, impossible! I'm clearly Kawashima Akira! My sister became a vegetable, and I even put her in the hospital and paid for her… You can check; there must be records of this!"
Watanabe shook his head helplessly, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. "We've checked, and there's no such record. Kawashima Akira, you are Kawashima Megumi. Or rather, there has only ever been Kawashima Megumi. How can you think your classmates who have been with you day and night wouldn't recognize you? And about Sato Wataru, who died by your hand—how could you think we wouldn't find out you're a boy? If you don't believe it, check your own body."
Megumi felt as if she had been struck by lightning. Slowly lowering her head, she saw her own swollen chest, and her heart sank as if hit by a heavy blow. She could not believe it; she could not be her sister. Waves of intense despair overwhelmed her, and all the facts crumbled before her eyes, as if the world was vanishing. They were all deceiving her, all lying to her! How could she be her sister?
Kawashima Megumi was filled with indescribable fear and despair. She felt as if she was in an endless abyss of darkness, everything around her ruthlessly tearing at her beliefs. Even though Watanabe was gently explaining to her, she could not understand, let alone accept it. Her thoughts swayed like a boat in a storm, on the brink of being swept into an endless void.
"I'm not her! I'm not Kawashima Megumi!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the empty hospital room, as if trying to vent the resentment and anger in her heart. She gripped the bedsheet tightly, her fingertips digging into the fabric, as if that could help her feel something real.
"Megumi." Watanabe Makoto tried to calm her emotions, his voice gentle yet firm, "You must face all of this. No matter how you try to escape, these facts cannot be changed. You are Kawashima Megumi, and your identity has not changed."
"You're all lying to me! I'm really not!" Kawashima Megumi's voice became hoarse with agitation, tears streaming down her face. The loneliness and despair in her heart erupted like a volcano, uncontrollably spilling to the surface.
Just as Kawashima Megumi was about to break down, Watanabe Makoto paused for a moment before finally speaking in a deep, resolute voice: "You must believe that facing the truth takes courage. Acknowledging your past does not mean surrender; it means a rebirth for your future self. Actively cooperate with the treatment; you have a mental illness and will not be sentenced to death."
These words struck Kawashima Megumi like a heavy blow to her most vulnerable spot. She trembled slightly, a strong wave of resistance and denial rising within her. The feeling of being unable to accept it surged over her like a tide, making it difficult for her to bear. In her mind, memories that should belong to "Kawashima Akira" were gradually being overtaken by some blurry yet real images, memories of "Kawashima Megumi"—the laughter and happiness shared with her sister, a simple and joyful life, all flashing before her eyes at that moment. She panicked and tightly clutched her head with both hands, as if trying to drive away the harsh truth.
"It's all fake, it's all fake…" she muttered, her voice filled with despair. Tears flowed uncontrollably as her heart struggled to resist this indescribable pain. She curled up, fearing that her true self would swallow her whole. She thought that this was just a dream, and once she woke up, everything would be fine; she would still be Kawashima Akira, maybe her sister wasn't dead after all, or perhaps all of this was just a dream of hers. This thought kept swirling in her mind like a last lifeline.
Watanabe Makoto watched her lose control, filled with helplessness and sorrow. He knew that the only ones who could pull Kawashima Megumi out of this chaos were professional psychologists and herself. He sighed heavily, turned, and left the hospital room, secretly praying that she could find the courage to emerge from the gloom.
As he exited the hospital, the sunlight filtered through the leaves, warming and brightening his presence, and the weight in his heart finally lifted. After a period of hard work, he had finally cracked this case that had troubled the national police, and although the truth behind the case made him feel extremely distressed, he had also been promoted and given a raise. In a good mood, he was planning where to go to relax and reward himself.
Just as he was lost in his pleasant thoughts, a phone call suddenly interrupted him. "Hello?" he answered, his tone cheerful, still pondering his relaxation plans for later.
"There has been another abuse and murder case in City B, and the method is exactly the same as that of the already arrested Kawashima Megumi!"