Chapter 3 : the other father

“You should have warned me,” Asahi said as he stepped into Amemiya’s office.

“About your smile?” Amemiya replied coldly.

Asahi stopped.

Amemiya and that cleaner lady were the only two people who had ever mentioned his smile.

He had never noticed he was smiling.

Shimizu’s blunt personality had never commented on it.

Amemiya slid a small envelope across the desk.

Pink.

Asahi stared at it for a moment before opening it.

Pink meant clone information.

But sometimes it also meant clone-related incidents.

Most of the time it was simple paperwork — identity verification, behavioral adjustment, relocation.

Rarely anything violent.

He unfolded the report.

Subject: Richard Caldwell

Incident: Homicide

Victim: Minor child (male)

Location: Residential District 4

Asahi frowned slightly.

Clones were designed to improve stability, emotional balance, social harmony.

They did not kill children.

He closed the folder and left.

District 4 was far from headquarters, so Asahi had to drive, the roads were nearly empty, billboards bearing the HQ logo flowed across the city, slogans echoed through speakers placed near bus stops, school entrances, markets, even inside vehicles.

Be the best version of yourself.

Your family deserves the best version of you.

Let the erasure begin.

Asahi stopped the car and stared at the house.

It was quiet.

Too quiet for a place where something terrible had happened.

Two guards stood near the entrance. Their eyes briefly glowed red as they scanned Asahi’s ID.

“The investigation unit is upstairs,” one of them said flatly.

Asahi stepped inside.

A toy truck lay on its side in the hallway, one of its wheels spun slowly, as if someone had brushed against it moments ago, there was food on the kitchen table, two plates, one small, one adult-sized.

Both unfinished.

Upstairs, muffled voices moved through the house — cleaners, inspectors, quiet conversations.

Asahi stayed downstairs.

Someone was sitting on the sofa.

Richard Caldwell’s replacement.

The clone looked identical to the original citizen.

Same hair.

Same face.

Same small mole near the left side of his lip.

But something about his posture felt wrong.

He sat very straight, hands resting on his knees like a student waiting for instructions.

His eyes slowly moved toward Asahi.

“Oh,” he said quietly, “You again.”

His voice was calm.

“Can you help me with these handcuffs, Kurosawa?”

Asahi didn’t answer immediately.

“You know me?” he asked.

The clone tilted his head slightly.

“You brought the letter.”

A pause.

“To the other me.”

The room suddenly felt colder.

Asahi wrote something in his notebook.

Behind him, a woman’s voice broke the silence.

“Don’t talk to him.”

The wife stood near the stairs.

Her face looked hollow, her eyes were swollen from crying.

“That thing isn’t my husband.”

The clone slowly turned toward her.

“I am your husband,” he said gently.

“No.”

Her voice trembled.

“You look like him… but you’re not him.”

Silence filled the living room.

Asahi observed them carefully.

“When did the incident occur?” he asked.

“This morning,” the woman replied hoarsely.

“He was fine before that, perfect, actually.”

She laughed bitterly.

“Too perfect.”

The clone lowered his gaze.

“It was difficult for me,” she said quietly, “To accept that another man who looks like my husband raises my child… and sleeps in my bed.”

“I tried very hard.”

No one replied.

The wife continued.

“He woke up this morning… and something was wrong.”

“Wrong how?” Asahi asked.

“He kept touching his head.”

Tears began flooding her face.

“I thought it was a migraine. My husband used to have them early in the morning.”

“So I went to buy medicine.”

Her voice broke.

“When I came back…”

“My son was on the floor.”

“Not breathing.”

Richard swallowed.

“He said… ‘You’re not daddy.’”

The clone’s breathing changed slightly.

“I remember that.”

His fingers tightened 

“No… we remember that.”

Asahi's pen stopped.

“What happened next?” Asahi asked calmly.

The clone stared at the floor.

“I heard a man crying.”

“Crying?”

He nodded slowly.

“Where?”

The clone touched his head.

“Inside.”

The wife stepped back in horror.

“You see? That thing is broken.”

The clone looked up.

His expression wasn’t violent.

It was frightened.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“My son looked scared.”

His breathing became uneven.

“He kept saying I wasn’t daddy.”

Another pause.

Then he whispered:

“So I tried to make him stop.”

The wife collapsed against the wall.

Upstairs, footsteps approached.

Two guards entered the living room.

One spoke calmly.

“Replacement unit Richard Caldwell CL has been confirmed defective.”

He looked at Asahi.

“Procedure?”

Asahi closed his notebook.

“Erasure.”

The clone watched them silently.

“No repair attempt?” he asked.

“No.”

He nodded slowly, as if accepting a diagnosis.

Before the guards took him away, he turned back to Asahi.

His eyes looked strange now.

Almost searching.

“Are you the one who erased him?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

The clone smiled faintly.

“That explains it.”

Asahi frowned.

“What does?”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“I remember dying.”

The room fell completely silent.

The guards grabbed his arms.

He did not resist.

As they pulled him toward the door, he said one last thing.

To the wife.

“He really loved his son.”

The woman screamed.