Speculation of the Crime [May, 19th]

Day by day, for several years now.

The monotony of my personal outlook remained.

I wasn't able to laugh, I wasn't able to cry.

All the expressions I had shown until that fateful day... vanished almost completely.

It's night time.

Onii-chan came back from his friends' outing with a girl... it seems they're not a couple, and that makes me feel happy.

Ah, maybe it's too confusing if I call him that...

Well, I have three older brothers.

My name is Tatsuda Mana (たつだ マナ), the only daughter within the Tatsuda family, and the youngest among all the other siblings.

I refer to each of my siblings differently, the eldest sibling (Gotou), I refer to as Aniki, the second eldest sibling (Nishino) I call Nii-san. On the other hand, the one I get along with the most is the third elder brother...

I don't know why, but I have an unusual attachment to my third elder brother (Manabu), whom I affectionately refer to as Onii-chan.

[These are all ways of saying "big brother" in Japanese, but "Aniki" and "Nii-san" show quite a lot of respect for the other person, while "Onii-chan" is a more affectionate or attached way of saying it].

That's why every night... while Onii-chan is sleeping, I enter her locked room from outside.

It's not like I can't feel emotions or feelings... I'm just too detached from other people's suffering. I have no empathy, above all else. Much less am I capable of feeling pity or anything that will stop me if I decide to murder someone.

I consider all of that to be manifested in 99.99% of all people in the world.

After all...

There is only one among all the other elements that live around me, with which I can express feelings and emotions. But it is almost completely impossible for me to do that if there are other people around us.

He told me once...

[We don't have dad's support, we don't have our brothers' support... so come on, Mana. Whenever we're together, show me your best smile, like this!]

I know these feelings I have shouldn't exist, but it's something I can't help, as a younger sister maybe, but as a girl, it would be impossible for me not to fall in love with the other person, even if it's my own blood.

How could I ignore him?

He's just too cool.

Anyone else in his position, with two mental disorders coupled with little support from his family, no girlfriend and no one else to lean on but his younger sister and himself. No one but him would have been able to overcome the adversities he faced.

He is someone who does not cry, at least not in front of me.

In that way I have never thought that his will wavers.

But after he cries, he is too fragile. I know he has no one in his heart, because he allows me to do a lot of selfish things.

Although I don't think it's bad... I don't mind being hated by my father or my other siblings... as long as Onii-chan doesn't get mad at me, I can stay the same no matter what.

I love Tatsuda Manabu, from beginning to end. I'm probably the person who knows him the most, as I've been with him and no one else but him since I was a little girl. I have loved him for as long as I can remember.

Even before our mother died, I was in love with him.

He is my first and only love.

But for today... I can't take advantage of him.

His pills must take effect first, I'm sure he had a very difficult time not being able to distinguish the fake from the real. After all, his hallucinations are all too real.

On nights like this, I can only lie in his bed and stay by his side while he recovers.

It's a pity we can't do anything, as Gotou-aniki is not at home tonight.

I'm fine with this...

After all, I love him. No matter what I do to show my affection for him. I'll enjoy it anyway.

Tomorrow is the weekend.

Manaka won't be coming tomorrow, and Onii-chan will stay home for the whole day.

I guess I can take the opportunity to be by his side all day Sunday, after all, it's not like I have anything better to do instead.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

The next morning came.

My palate... has no taste at all.

Though my head throbs a little, causing a sharp pain. That doesn't matter much, let's say.

I look to my right... where a girl with almost completely dark hair lies resting in complete tranquility. Her closed eyelids together with her soft expression make her look like a beautiful piece of art on display in a museum of great prestige.

But... Why am I awakened... amidst such peace and quiet...?

The answer is this: The doorbell is ringing non-stop.

The sound has been bothering me for a while now and if that wasn't enough, my phone is bursting with messages from Gotou-aniki telling me to go answer the door.

I check my head for a moment.

...

...

...

...

...

There are no voices echoing. That makes me feel profoundly calm.

Even though I don't remember more than half of the things... I guess I messed up a bit on my date with Touka-san yesterday... I should apologize to her as soon as possible.

I feel a bit fatigued, maybe because I've been sleeping for so long. I go and leave my room, go down to the first floor of the house and with probably the stupidest expression I could have on my face, I open the door.

It would have been nice if it was Manaka it was about... since I was willing to put up with her early in the morning.

However. I don't think it's all that good.

Are you Tatsuda Manabu-sensei? The young prodigy who wrote one of the best novels that makes you reflect on the existentialism of today?

Whoever appears in front of my door is definitely not a normal person, let alone if we talk about his companion to the left of him.

A sharp look, I can tell.

He is seeing through me, or trying to see through me in order to predict my line of thought and course of action in the face of this.

From what I can tell, these people are cops.

I can tell by the badge the woman has hanging from her belt. Also, the car they are coming in can be used for investigation because of its dark colour that can easily go unnoticed.

Did I do something wrong while I was under the influence of my illness or something like that?

I don't know.

But I still can't remain silent for too long, that could be proof of doubt.

Although I wasn't sure about my first intonation of the morning, I somehow managed to say in an understandable tone:

─I am, to whom do I owe the question?

─First of all, could you give us your autograph in this very book? The name of this woman here, is Yanagi Kotori, she thinks asking you for your autograph directly is embarrassing. By the way, I'm Homura Kiyotaka.

The male policeman gets a tap on the foot from his partner, maybe she thinks he said a few things too many.

I pick up the familiar cover book that I've opened so many times since it came out, and on the first page, I sign my signature with the names of the two of them.

Once the book is signed, Homura-san (I'm going to call him that), passes the book to his co-worker, who, with a smile, takes a couple of steps away from us to see my signature in the light of day.

I see Homura-san again and he then introduces himself:

─I'm Homura Kiyotaka, private detective, and I'm temporarily working on a case that I found inescapably interesting. Tell me, Manabu-sensei, does this page fragment look familiar?

A private detective?

Mm...

I see what's going on here.

I look at what Homura-san is handing me, which is a piece of paper wrapped in a plastic bag. It's dirty, has dirt marks and small traces of blood along its structure.

It is less than half the size of a sheet of paper...

But I remember this fragment perfectly.

[With the fall of the human mentality itself, it is understood in an abstract way that the degeneration of people is a fact that cannot be avoided unless we stop calling ourselves human.]

[Which leads me to ask myself, what was it that made me human in reality? That's the question I pose to myself as I watch the brutal scene where a man murders his wife from the perspective of a bystander.]

Remember it?

How could I not?

─Mushinron no Catharsis, chapter twenty-two, page one hundred and eighty-nine of the Japanese edition, paragraph number four on the same page.

It is impossible for a writer to forget even a single word of what he or she has written in the past, even if five, ten or twenty years have passed.

That's one of the reading comprehension skills we writers all boast of.

It is impossible for me to forget it.

Because that part was written mainly with my mother's manuscripts, which I used to adapt a mystery into a work of existentialist fiction.

There were many murder scenes in that book, this is one of them, described from the perspective of Akira (the protagonist), who stood by and did nothing to prevent such an act from being committed even if she is [God].

In short, "Mushinron no Catharsis" tells the story of an atheist who became [God] and how she explores as a spectator the traits of both poles of humanity in order to understand what she was missing in terms of "being a human".

This is one of the eighteen murder scenes that took place in the book I wrote.

A man destroyed his wife's head with a circular saw, turning it into a pile of flesh. With a metal bat, that same man broke the bones in his wife's arms and legs, turning them at normally impossible angles. Using the same murder weapon, he cut open his wife's chest and stomach, where he exposed her internal organs, used bird food and let crows eat the corpse of his once-wife.

In the book I projected that the man's reasons were unknown, but he was forgiven by Akira when on his knees he begged for mercy.

I showed there, that even murderers have the right to be judged in the same way as everyone else.

Having written it that way made many church bodies give good reviews of my book, which naturally made many people around the world read it from cover to cover.

There are people on the count of my fingers who have read "Mushinron no Catharsis" and have not given my writing a good review. It may be perceived as megalomania, but I'm not lying when I say that.

─Good that you remember, Manabu-sensei. Sorry to bother you so early in the morning and all, but we need your cooperation on this one.

Huh?

─What happened?

Already an idea is going through my head... of holding this piece of paper between my fingers.

But all the same, the words the detective would say next hit me like a bucket of ice water.

─There are two murders so far, a dismembered corpse and another that was butchered in the same manner described in that chapter of your book.

Ha, ha...

For a moment, I almost dropped to my knees, but I fought against my legs to avoid it.

Oh, shit.

This is a big problem... there's nothing good if this was based on my book to happen.

I... I don't know how to feel. I feel like I'm about to throw up.

─How... could I help you...? ─. I ask, struggling to hold back what was about to spew out frighteningly from inside my stomach.

The female detective, by the name of Yanagi Kotori was the one who came to answer my question. Since a call seems to have come in to Detective Homura's mobile phone.

─Tatsuda-san, we consider the murders committed to be brutally carried out, and I would like to ask you, what were you doing during the night before last, Tatsuda-san?

─I was here, in my house. I was resting after a long day of classes.

─Is there anyone who can vouch for that alibi?

─My younger sister, Mana. Also my next door neighbour, Kotonoha Manaka.

I try not to doubt my words for a moment.

If I hesitate right now, they'll think I'm lying. The fact that they're questioning me right now just means that they doubt me, because I'm the writer of that play.

I understand that.

I guess it's only natural.

─We wanted to know... Tatsuda-san, do you know anyone who seems to be connected to these murders?

─I'm sorry, I can't help you there. I don't think I've ever met such a person in my life.

I see... Kiyotaka-senpai, what happened?

We turn to look at Detective Homura now that he's finished his call.

A complicated expression on his face is enough to make me flinch.

─Tatsuda Manabu-sensei... you're under arrest.

─Huh?! Wait, why?!

─The headless corpse of a young man has been found in the [Tokyo Tower], according to forensics, there is a note in the victim's pocket which written in bad handwriting, says you are responsible. I don't want to do this, but... you have the right to remain silent, to a lawyer and anything you say can and will be used against you.

Detective Homura surrounded me, and put me in handcuffs. I had no choice but to remain silent.

I see what this is about...

But for the time being.

Maybe it's best to keep quiet.

There's only one person who would do something like this.