Mid-July. A secluded private room in a hidden ward of the Wu Tiao building.
It was daytime, but the doors and windows were shut, the curtains drawn.
Asagami Yūki lay on the bed wrapped in bandages from head to toe, staring lifelessly at the television and flipping channels with the only unbandaged hand.
"Shocking! An honor student falls into grotesque serial murder— is this the distortion of morality, or the collapse of humanity…"
Click.
"Police finally close the case of Kanbuzi's serial murders— and the one who saw through it all was a young man who appeared to be a high school student…"
Click.
"Asagami Group's heir embroiled in legal dispute— defense counsel clashes over self-defense versus negligent homicide— final ruling: self-defense…"
Click.
"According to the deceased suspect's mother, Shirazumi Rio was a kind, cheerful child beloved by the neighborhood. Even faced with evidence, she refuses to believe—"
Click.
"VANILLA—Nekokusa—Nekokusa is hiring—Nekokusa—high income—"
The television's light flickered across Yūki's eyes. After a long while, he tossed the remote aside.
"Fine. Even ads are better than that wall-to-wall news. Just hearing it makes me sick."
A week had passed since Shirazumi Rio's death—and since Yūki had called the police and turned himself in.
With broken ribs, minor organ damage, and numerous knife wounds, he'd been hospitalized properly.
He'd taken strong painkillers earlier; the effects hadn't fully hit yet. That was why he'd been irritably channel-surfing.
That night, Yūki had driven the knife up through Shirazumi's jaw, piercing into the back of his skull.
The sensation—blood, the thick resistance of something inside—still clung to his hands in memory.
Yet he hadn't had nightmares even once.
Even so, Yūki believed he'd had to do it.
Ever since he'd realized what world this truly was, he'd reminded himself constantly:
He wasn't the protagonist.
He couldn't break through Shiki's inner walls—let alone resolve them.
Everything—his impulsive "counter-kill," his calculated confession—served one purpose:
To make it real that Shiki did not kill Shirazumi. Asagami Yūki did.
If Shiki gained a clear sense of killing at this point, Yūki had no confidence he could suppress the urge inside her.
In the Ryougi family's history, heirs going mad young for various reasons was common. A Shiki who grew up safely was the exception.
If handled poorly, after Shirazumi died, Kanbuzi might simply gain a new killer: Ryougi Shiki.
Even so, that night had surely hit Shiki hard.
During Yūki's report, Shiki vanished without a word.
And in his statement, Yūki never mentioned her. It was as if no one knew a third person had been there.
So the story became: a boy out on a night "detective game" stumbled into the true culprit, fought desperately, and somehow survived by killing him.
And because Yūki's injuries were severe enough, and because the conglomerate pulled strings, plus media shaping and messaging, the trial ended three days ago in victory.
"Self-defense."
Asagami stock even rose.
But not everything had improved.
First: the media's loud celebration of "Asagami's heir slays the serial killer" meant Araya Sōren was unlikely to remain ignorant. Worse—Araya might become wary of Yūki.
Second: Shiki hadn't visited him once.
Even after Yūki texted her the hospital address, she never replied.
From Fujino's messages, Shiki also stopped picking her up—and hadn't returned to school since that night.
Third: Yūki grimaced at a message from Miss Tama:
"DEVIL! PERVERT! YOU'RE NOT HUMAN! YOUNG MASTER, YOU'VE GONE TOO FAR!!!"
Yes—despite her leg not being healed, Miss Tama had left the hospital early, taking charge of Fujino's commuting, arranging a discreet hospital for Yūki away from public nuisance, and driving off reporters who crowded the Asagami residence.
If anything, she was busier than before the injury.
Still… calling him a pervert felt excessive.
Yūki sighed.
"Yūki! You're here, right? I'm coming in."
For an instant, Yūki thought it was a hallucination.
He thought he'd heard Shiki's voice.
But Shiki didn't usually call him by name so warmly, so it must have been his imagination.
Before he could dwell on it, less than five seconds later, the private room door swung open.
A figure barged in—rarely seen not in a kimono, but in a T-shirt, jeans, and a red jacket.
"Whoa—found Yūki!"
At the same time, the TV ad—somehow—had shifted from hiring women to hiring men, with cartoonish big-headed mascots singing in a painfully catchy tone:
"Vanilla—Vanilla—hiring male workers—Vanilla—Vanilla—men can earn high income too—"
"Ryougi Shiki" stared at the flashing ad and asked in puzzlement:
"Ohh… Yūki, is that your interest? Or are you short on money lately?"
Beep.
Yūki slammed the TV off.
"No—no way—absolutely not—cough, cough—ow…"
The movement tugged his chest. He hoped the ribs that had been set wouldn't break again.
With the TV off, the room dimmed. Without thinking, "Ryougi Shiki" walked over and yanked the curtains open.
"Ah… what a shame. The weather's nice today."
Even with nearby buildings blocking most of the light, the room brightened a little.
And in that light, Yūki finally recognized it from the voice and casual movements.
This wasn't "Ryougi Shiki."
It was Ryougi Shiki's other half—Ryougi Shiki (Shiki's "Weave"), the one called Ryougi Shiki (the other personality)—Ryougi Shiki (Shiki's "Ori").
In other words:
Ryougi Shiki — "Shiki (Ori)."
"Yaa~ it's been ages!" Ori said cheerfully. "Shiki hasn't been letting me out much. She keeps asking if I did anything while she was asleep, and she acts like she's mad at me… but I didn't do anything! Ah, but recently she suddenly started letting me out again—said she'd misunderstood something before. I asked what it was, but she wouldn't tell me…"
"Ah… that…"
That misunderstanding was likely Shiki suspecting Ori of being the killer.
Now that the real killer was dead, Ori's "suspicion" had been cleared.
The Ryougi family's dual existence wasn't the same as ordinary dissociative identity disorder.
Shiki held absolute control of the body. If Shiki didn't allow it, Ori couldn't come out.
But if Shiki lost consciousness—like during sleep—Ori could quietly surface.
And the two did not share senses or memories.
They were like two separate souls stuffed into one body.
Just like now: whether Shiki's consciousness was asleep or awake, she couldn't perceive anything outside. That was exactly why Shiki had once suspected Ori.
Because Shiki and Ori could hide things from each other.
For example—
Shiki still didn't know that twelve years ago…
Yūki had already met Ori.
-------
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