Watanabe

[Next morning, Earlier before work]

The apartment was quiet — too quiet.
Only the faint hum of Seiji’s computer filled the room.

He sat at his desk, coffee steaming beside him, the morning sun slipping through the blinds. Hideaki was still asleep on the couch, curled under his blanket, his hair sticking out in every possible direction.

Seiji stared at the monitor for a long moment. His social media page was open, Aoi’s profile staring back at him — smiling, happy, radiant as ever.
She looked untouched  by what happened. Untouched by him.

Her recent photo was with friends.

Seiji’s expression didn’t change, but his hand tightened slightly on the mouse.

"Figures," he muttered under his breath. "She always knew how to land on her feet."

He scrolled slowly — seeing her posts, her comments, people wishing her well.
Every photo was another tiny blade, a reminder that while he was busy rebuilding himself, she just... moved on.

Then he stopped scrolling. His eyes lingered on the small blue button:
“Remove Friend.”

He exhaled slowly.
‘Let her go,’  he reminded himself. The same words he’d said last night.

Click.
The button turned gray.
Removed.

A strange silence followed — one that wasn’t heavy or painful. Just... still.
He sat there, waiting for some kind of ache to follow, some regret. But there was nothing.
Only quiet relief.

"That’s it," he said quietly. "Done."

A faint rustle came from behind him.
Hideaki shuffled in, half-asleep, dragging the blanket along like a tired cat.
"Morning," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "What’re you doing?"

"Deleting people I should’ve deleted a long time ago," Seiji said dryly, taking a sip of his coffee.

Hideaki blinked, then yawned. "Oh... Okay..." He said sluggishly, then added "I wanna eat..."

Seiji cracked a faint, crooked smile. "And I suppose I have to make you breakfast as usual."

Hideaki tilted his head, smiling with closed eyes "Mhm! Heheh" He chuckled deviously.

Seiji didn’t answer. He just turned back to the screen, closing the browser tab.
For the first time in months, it didn’t feel like he was running from ghosts.
Just... moving on.

Then he raised from his seat and exhaled slowly.

"Alright. So let's go to the kitchen then."

[Meanwhile Tokyo's Police Department]

Oyakata entered the office, holding a report in one hand. There already been Nakamura, Tanaka and Inoue, chatting about something less important than the case.

They noticed the young officer and just before they could greet him, Oyakata said:

"Sir's, I went with Fukuda and Maeda to that Sekiguchi guy’s apartment. I searched everything — no trace of Hideaki Miyahara. Nothing. No documents, no personal belongings, nothing."

For a moment, silence filled the room.

And then...

"You what!?" Nakamura erupted "You went to a civilian’s home—" Nakamura couldn't finish his sentence because Inoue rose his hand before him signaling to wait. His eyes shifted toward the young officer, who now looked more nervous than ever.

"I… I didn’t inform you because…" Oyakata began, his voice shaking slightly. "Because I couldn’t just stand there doing nothing. Fukuda and Maeda looked… completely defeated. Like nobody was going to take them seriously. I thought— if there was even a small chance they were right, I had to check it out myself."

Nakamura’s jaw tightened.

"So instead of following protocol, you decided to play hero?"

Oyakata swallowed hard. "No, sir. I just… wanted to make sure we weren’t ignoring something important." He hesitated, then added quietly, "I submitted a request for an emergency warrant the day before. I just… moved a bit faster than procedure usually allows. It got approved. So it’s official..."

He pulled out the document, his hands trembling slightly as he showed it to both Nakamura and Tanaka.

"And what about that civilian? Didn't he have a objections to let a single police man inside his apartment? Didn't it look unofficial to him?" Tanaka asked.

Oyakata stiffened. "H-he agreed to let me in," he stammered quickly. "He said that by all means — h-he has nothing to hide."

Tanaka exchanged a glance with Nakamura, who let out a long, tense exhale.

"Oyakata-san, do you realize that if you would go there without that warrant, he could file a complaint, and then, the entire department would get dragged into this?"

Oyakata lowered his head slightly.

"I do realize, sir."

"You’re lucky he didn’t record you and call a lawyer. Next time, you ask us if you could do such a risky move. Especially if it's connected with serious investigation. Understood?"

"Y-yes, sir."

Nakamura sighed, rubbing his temples.

"What a hassle..."

Inoue cleared his throat "Nakamura, what's been done, been done. At least he checked it properly. It’s not like sitting around and waiting for miracles would’ve given us anything new."

Tanaka gave a short, humorless laugh. "You call that ‘checking properly’? He could’ve gotten us a lawsuit."

Inoue shrugged. "Maybe. But he didn’t."

Nakamura sighed heavily again and leaned against the desk. Them turned towards Oyakata,

"So..." He started, a little bit calmer than moments ago "That hospital guard really took you on a field trip to a programmer’s apartment, and… nothing? Not a single clue?"

His tone carried a hint of irony, though there was something thoughtful beneath it.

"No. Nothing. The apartment was clear." Oyakata replied.

"That’s strange. If Miyahara was really there, there should’ve been some trace. And if he wasn’t… then either Fukuda’s making things up, or he got dragged into something." 

Tanaka sighed.

“I told you this would be a waste of time. The guy’s probbaly traumatized from what he saw at the hospital and now he’s chasing ghosts. Maybe he saw some patient with mental issues and built a whole story around it."

He dropped the report onto the desk.

"Without hard evidence, these are just his words. We can’t dig into someone’s life just because a security guard has a ‘bad feeling.’"

Inoue stayed quiet for a moment before speaking hesitantly.

"But… if the hospital system really was wiped, isn’t that kind of strange? Medical data doesn’t just disappear."

He glanced uncertainly toward Nakamura.

"Maybe someone really did try to cover something up?"

Nakamura looked at him.

"I’m not ruling that out, Inoue. But until we can confirm Miyahara was ever admitted to that hospital, we can’t go around accusing people of a cover-up."

Tanaka leaned back in his chair.

"So what do we have? A paranoid guard, his fiancée, and a programmer who’s probably sick of being dragged into this. I vote we file the report and close the case."

Nakamura didn’t look entirely convinced.

"Close it? Maybe." He paused, then looked at both Inoue and Tanaka. "But before we throw this whole case into the archive — I want to know what happened at that hospital. If Fukuda’s telling the truth and the patient records really were erased, someone had to authorize that. Find out who had access to the system, who issued the deletion order, and when it happened."

Tanaka raised an eyebrow slightly. "You think the hospital’s involved?"

"I think," Nakamura replied quietly, "that whoever made those files disappear knows where Miyahara went. And until we find out who pulled those strings — this case isn’t over."

The room fell silent.

Kisaragi was observing their conversation from distance, deeply analazing everything they said.

On next two days:

[Tokyo General Hospital – Records Department, mid-afternoon]

Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above the narrow corridor as the detectives passed through security. Every footstep echoed in the sterile hall.
The head nurse, visibly anxious, led them toward the administrative wing.

"We already spoke to the hospital director," Nakamura said, flipping open his badge.
"We’ll need full access to the records system — and every technician who’s had database clearance in the last month."

The nurse nodded quickly, pushing open a door to the records office. Inside, three staff members sat stiffly at their desks, their faces pale as the police entered.

Tanaka immediately scanned the room — two terminals, a central server rack, and a faint hum of running hardware.

"We're looking into missing patient data connected to an individual named Hideaki Miyahara. Almost four weeks ago, a large portion of files — including imaging logs, ER admissions, camera logs and medical scans — were deleted from the system. You're the team that had access." Nakamura said firmly, without raising his voice.

A young technician, probably in his late twenties, shifted uncomfortably.

"I-I don't remember if this was Miyahara Hideaki or someone else, but we sure deleted some patient files in that period..."
He swallowed hard. "B-but I didn’t delete anything myself. Doctor Watanabe told us it was necessary. He ordered us to completely erase the patient’s records — all personal data, treatment notes, test results. Everything. No backups, no copies, nothing."

Daisuke who was behind them, froze."... Doctor Watanabe," he whispered, feeling the water cup almost slip from his hand.

Kisaragi was taking notes. Her sharp eyes scanned the faces of the technicians.

She stepped forward slightly.

"So he built a wall around the case. No oversight, no records, and then scrubbed it clean," Kisaragi said quietly, her eyes narrowing.

"I-I guess..." Technician answered.

Inoue raised an eyebrow, "So, I suppouse you don't know anything? Even in what state this guy was when he was brought here?"

The first technician hesitated, then nodded faintly.
"I mean... We were informed that he was brought in during the night. Heavy blood loss, stab wound. They said he was attacked, maybe during a robbery. But Doctor Watanabe was... different that night. He wouldn't let anyone near the room unless they were staff he trusted."

Daisuke felt his thoughts tighten around his head like an iron band. Everything began to make sense — this was why the data had disappeared. This was why everyone in the department was acting so strangely.

"Why... Watanabe..." he muttered through his teeth.

Two possibilities began to form rapidly in his mind:

'Either Watanabe truly believed in his medical principles and hid the patient to 'protect' him from the world.'

'Or... he had some other agenda. Maybe he knew more about Miyahara than he was letting on.'

Daisuke felt anger rise within him, but he suppressed it, focusing on logic.

Then Tanaka chimmed in

"And nobody thought that was odd? That maybe something wasn't right?"

"Watanabe said that this patient is vulnerable." Another technician took a voice.

Tanaka nodded and gazed askingly at Nakamura.

Nakamura shoot him a brief nodding glance.

Tanaka then turned to the staff,

"Did any of you ask the administration about it? Or asked Doctor Watanabe why he's made such a unusual request?"

A second technician, older, looked down at his hands.
"No. He's a senior doctor. We just followed orders. None of us wanted trouble."

Nakamura exhaled.

Then after a short pause, he said sharply, "Alright, we’re done here for now. I want every access log, timestamp, and terminal trace. IT forensics will pull the backups. I don’t care how — just make sure those deleted files come back. Understood?"

The staff nodded nervously as the detectives stepped out of the office.

Once they were back in the corridor, Nakamura gave his next orders.

"Kisaragi, Inoue — stay with the tech team and monitor the data restoration. Tanaka, you’re with me. We’re going to see Doctor Watanabe."

Everyone nodded and moved to their tasks.

Over the next two days, the forensic team was begin restoring the deleted data under Kisaragi’s and Inoue’s supervision.

Meanwhile, Nakamura and Tanaka were preparing to confront Dr. Watanabe

---

[Doctor's Watanabe office, afternoon.]

Inside the room were few people — Nakamura, Tanaka, Doctor Watanabe and Hospital's Director.

Nakamura cleared his throat and started calmly.

"Doctor, we've heard that over a four weeks ago, you helped someone... Someone very specific. The technicians however, claim that that night, you didn't allow anyone into the operating room, only your most trusted colleagues. Can you shed some light on this and explain why?"

Watanabe nodded calmly.

"I did what I believed was right. The man who came to us that night was a bleeding, wounded young man — one who needed medical care."

Tanaka crossed his arms.

"Some people from yours surroundings claims that it was non other than Miyahara Hideaki, a dangerous wanted serial killer. If it will be true, then know, that this 'wounded young man' has murdered over twenty people. You gave him another chance to do it again."

"I know." Watanabe replied calmly.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Nakamura and Tanaka opened their eyes widely.

"W-What?" Tanaka started, "What do you mean that 'You know'?"

Watanabe paused, his fingers tightened slightly. Then he opened his mouth again.

"I knew who he was. But if I'd refused him because of who he was, I wouldn't be a doctor anymore. Just another bureaucrat with a scalpel." He paused then, continued grimly  "I couldn't risk panic. Or leaks. The fewer people knew, the better for everyone."

Nakamura narrowed his eyes "Then help me understand something else. Why? Why helping a wanted serial killer?"

"You call him a killer. I saw a patient. And for a doctor, that makes all the difference."

"So you treated him... and then what? Decided to erase him from existence?" Tanaka asked.

"Not erase. Protect. The moment his name appeared in the system, he'd be found, dragged away, and probably shot by some officer who wanted a headline. He needed time to live — to think. Maybe even to change."

"Change? You think people like that change?" Tanaka asked incredulously "You gave a monster a hiding place." 

Watanabe lowered his gaze slightly.
"I gave a dying man a chance to breathe. What he did after that... was beyond my control."

Nakamura set a folder on the table.

"Sir... what about the others? The technicians, the nurses — they're facing suspension now because they trusted you."

Watanabe's voice softened.
"They were doing their jobs. They shouldn't pay for my choice."

"They will face consequences." Tanaka said coldly. "The ministry's already considering disciplinary action. Transfers, maybe demotions. You've burned your whole department for a killer."

"And yet you stand here defending a system that breaks people until they become monsters. I didn't justify what he did — but I refused to deny him humanity." Watanabe added turning his almost saddened gaze at him.

Director of the Hospital cleared his throat nervously,
"Please understand, Inspector — Doctor Watanabe acted independently. The board was not informed of any such decision."

"I'm sure you'll have a chance to prove that. Expect a full audit of your patient registry, effective today." Nakamura said without looking at him.

The director paled slightly.

Nakamura leaned slightly forward,

"Doctor Watanabe," he started, his tone serious  "Are you aware of the charges being investigated? Obstruction of justice, evidence tampering, and aiding a wanted fugitive?"

Watanabe nodded slowly.

"You ordered your staff to erase files from the database and by doing this, you destroyed government-protected data. In other words... You concealed information crucial to an active investigation. You understand what that means?"

Nakamura observed him.

"I understand perfectly." Watanabe said silently.

The director, trembling slightly, rose from his chair.

"Inspector... Please understand," he began uncertainly, adjusting his glasses. "The hospital had no idea of ​​Dr. Watanabe's actions. We acted in good faith. If we had known—"

Nakamura slowly raised his eyes.

"Please sit down."

It didn't sound like a request.

The director sank back into his seat as if someone had disconnected his knees.

Nakamura continued, cold and perfectly composed:

"If you really didn't know, why then didn't any of the staff report the undocumented operation?"

The director opened his mouth, but Nakamura immediately cut him off.

"Why was the logging system disabled for thirty minutes at three in the morning?"

The director paled.

"Why does the monitoring of the corridor to the operating room had separate time gap? On the night during possibly one, Miyahara was operated?"

A sudden, sharp silence fell on the room.

Even Tanaka looked at Nakamura with faint appreciation.

The director opened his mouth, trying to cobble together an explanation.

"Inspector, this... this must be an accident—"

"No," Nakamura interrupted calmly. "It's not an accident. It's either sabotage or extreme incompetence. Both are your responsibility."

The director leaned back as if punched in the ribs.

Nakamura leaned forward slightly.

"You said the board wasn't informed... but you have a duty to know what's happening at your facility. If you didn't know, then you're unfit to perform your duties."

The director paled almost to a pale blue.

Nakamura added:

"And if you did know... then you were involved in a cover-up. And then the matter looks much worse."

Silence cut through the air like a scalpel.

Tanaka fixed his gaze on the director, narrowing his eyes.

Watanabe sat calmly, as if resigned to what was to come.

The director tried one more desperate shot:

"But... but, Inspector, please remember that Dr. Watanabe is the one in charge here—"

Nakamura looked at him coldly, tilting his head slightly.

"You see, this is how people most often sink deeper—trying to shift the blame before I've even finished asking questions."

The director froze.

Nakamura calmly closed the file.

"I suggest you stop 'explaining,' because any further words will be recorded in the record as a potential cover-up."

The director looked down at his hands, clearly devastated.

Nakamura cleared his throat and carefully, turned to Watanabe.
"And now... One last thing, Doctor. When Miyahara left the hospital — did he say anything? Anything that could help us find him?"

Watanabe thought for a long moment. "No."

"Did he ever mention where he was going next? Or someone helping him?"

"I'm not aware of any of these, officer."

Nakamura finally closed the folder.
"Alright. You'll be taken in for questioning downtown. Your lawyers can follow. The Ministry will handle your suspension notice."

He stood up, then looked directly at Watanabe.
"You swore to save lives. But in trying to save one man, you helped him destroy more. I hope you can live with that."

"I already can't." Watanabe said quietly, almost to himself.

[Later, outside the hospital]

The four detectives stepped out into the gray Tokyo morning. The air was crisp, heavy with drizzle.
Nakamura lit a cigarette, eyes fixed on the hospital entrance.

"He’s not a criminal in his mind. Just a doctor who couldn’t let someone die." Tanaka said after a while.

Nakamura flicked his ciggarette to the ground. The sirens from the passing ambulance on the street wailed faintly in the distance.

"But in doing that… he let others die later."

When the others moved on, Daisuke lingered for a moment by the door.
His heartbeat was slow, heavy — like each thud echoed in his chest.

The truth hurt more than he expected.
Dr. Watanabe… a man he’d trusted, respected. Someone who once spoke to him about “seeing the person, not the crime.”

Now, that same man had erased everything — and for whom?
For a murderer.

He felt a strange mixture of fury and sorrow.
Maybe Watanabe hadn’t done it out of malice. Maybe he truly thought he was helping someone broken.
But to Daisuke, all that compassion only looked like betrayal now.