Interrogation

That afternoon, the sky outside the hospital window began to change color, hinting at the approaching dusk. The soft orange light crept into the room, illuminating Eiji's body, still lying weakly on the bed.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

The quiet atmosphere was immediately broken by a gentle knock on the door.

Without waiting for an answer, two men in police uniforms entered the room. One of them, about forty years old with a thick mustache, gestured slightly to his colleague before approaching Eiji's bed.

"Good evening." He greeted in a flat but friendly tone.

"I'm Inspector Takeda, and this is my colleague, Inspector Kurose. We're here to talk to you for a bit, if you don't mind."

Eiji just looked at them with confusion. Although he felt tired, he nodded slowly.

Takeda pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, while Kurose stood near the foot of the bed with a clipboard in hand. They seemed serious, but not hostile.

"How are you feeling?" Takeda asked, opening the conversation.

"Fine, I guess." Eiji replied softly, his voice hoarse.

Takeda looked at him with sharp eyes.

"We'll get straight to the point. We've tried to find data about you in the national population and civil registry system. But to our surprise, we couldn't find any information about a person named Kamiki Eiji. In fact, there's no sign that you were ever registered as a citizen here."

"..."

Eiji furrowed his brow, trying to process what had just been said.

"I don't know. I only remember my name, Kamiki Eiji. But other than that, I don't remember anything else."

Kurose, who had been silent until then, finally spoke. "The name Kamiki is very rare in Japan, and your appearance seems to suggest origins from Japan or another East Asian country. But it's strange that there are no records about you. Are you really sure you don't remember where you're from?"

"No... I've tried to remember, but everything is blank. Only my name is what I remember. Nothing else..." Eiji sighed sadly.

He wanted to know his past more than anyone else. He felt like he was in a hurry, but he couldn't remember anything.

"Sigh..."

Takeda sighed, jotting something down in his notebook.

"You have to understand, this situation is a bit complicated. Without a clear identity, we can't confirm who you are, and that makes us have to consider all possibilities. Have you ever been abroad before? Maybe from there your memories could come back?"

Eiji tried to remember, but again there was only emptiness in his head.

"I don't know... I really don't remember anything. Just my name, that's all."

Takeda and Kurose exchanged glances, their expressions revealing deep doubt.

"We understand this must be difficult for you." Said Kurose, his voice softer than before.

"But we need to make sure you're here legally. We'll give you time to recover, but we'll continue to investigate further. If there's anything else you remember, no matter how small, let us know."

Eiji just stared at them, feeling increasingly trapped in confusion. He nodded weakly.

They both gave a brief nod before turning and walking out of the room, leaving Eiji in a silence that now felt heavier than before.

Eiji looked at the darkening sky outside the window.

What had actually happened to him?

And why didn't anyone know who he was?

All those questions kept swirling in his mind without answers, adding a new layer to the mystery of his life that now felt increasingly complex.

"Amnesia, huh... Nii-san would definitely laugh if he knew... Wait? Nii-san?!"

Realizing he was muttering unconsciously, Eiji was startled to hear what he had said. He tried to recall his memories, but all he received was an excruciating headache.

Meanwhile, after they left the ward, the door closed with a soft sound, and the two inspectors walked slowly down the quiet hospital corridor. Takeda took a deep breath before speaking.

"Strange." He said, folding his arms behind his head, trying to digest the situation they had just faced.

"A person without identity records in this day and age? Hard to believe."

Takeda nodded in agreement and said, "I thought so too. Amnesia or not, this situation is suspicious. If he didn't have a Japanese face, we might have been tougher earlier. But... his face is really oriental. That makes me wonder, is he a real Japanese who somehow lost all his documents?"

Kurose shook his head slowly, seemingly disagreeing.

"Even if his documents are lost, the data should still be in the national database. We're talking about a very sophisticated system in this digital age. It's impossible for someone's records to just disappear. This suggests that he probably never lived in Japan before, or at least wasn't registered as a citizen. That makes our investigation much more difficult."

Takeda thought for a moment, then looked at Kurose.

"So you think he came from abroad?"

"Maybe." Kurose replied and continued, "But there's something else that's bothering me. His injuries don't look like they were caused by an accident. There are indications that he was attacked... Maybe by someone involved in illegal activities. He could be part of something bigger, or maybe a victim of a criminal network."

Takeda narrowed his eyes, trying to connect all the possibilities.

"But that's just an assumption for now, right?"

"Right. We don't have enough evidence to conclude anything. However, with his condition like this, we can't completely ignore that possibility." Kurose nodded.

Takeda took a deep breath, then crossed his arms.

"So, what's the next step?"

"We keep an eye on him. For now, we have to secretly watch him. If there's anything suspicious, we can take further action. But, if he really is amnesiac and doesn't remember anything, we have to be prepared for the possibility that he himself doesn't know what happened to him."

Takeda nodded and put on a serious expression.

"Alright. We'll continue this investigation carefully. For now, let him think we just want to confirm his identity. But don't let your guard down."

Kurose agreed, then they both walked away from the ward, carrying with them the worries and speculations that continued to haunt their minds.