Romantic Troubles of Duanmu-kun

“Ah, that’s right.”

The young man nodded.

“To be specific, yes, I watched him die as he struggled in agony. Wailing, crying his eyes out, begging me for mercy…”

“You’re lying!”

The deathly cold expression crumbled, and Kasai Shino, standing on the other side, let out a roar like that of a frenzied mother beast.

That’s right, I am lying.

“Why do you think so?” the novelist smiled.

“Because in the past, Dr. Shirakawa used his knowledge and skills to control people’s hearts and never failed. This made you, as an observer, feel awe toward him, worshipping him as someone powerful… as a god, so you don’t allow anyone to tarnish his image. Is that what you think?”

His gaze remained firmly fixed on the female doctor, completely focused on observing the subtle changes in her expression every second, every minute.

My, my.

It seems… he’d hit the mark.

Lucky.

“Kasai-san is a doctor, right? If so, you should understand perfectly well.”

The novelist spread his hands, recalling a certain woman’s speech in his mind.

“People, you know—when their throats are slit, hearts stabbed, arteries severed, poisoned, or shot through the temple—when they are killed, they die.”

“People, once hit, feel pain, and when it becomes unbearable, they beg for mercy. When they can’t be forgiven, they curse, and when they despair, they regret their past…”

“No one is an exception. Kasai-san, your understanding of human physiology far surpasses mine, so you should understand what I’m saying.”

None of this was particularly remarkable.

A familiar hearsay.

Just a patchwork and compilation of language.

Yet, the effect was impressive.

The other person’s expression was continuously wavering. Her mechanical pupils turned back and forth, staring at empty space, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“I understand the mentality of worshipping the strong very well! Because I’m human too. Once this mindset takes hold, people see the actions of power as reasonable, praise the good deeds of the powerful, and justify their evil deeds, even when they harm their own interests. But some people never understand that power itself has no good or evil—it’s just naked plunder. Those who place their hopes on the mercy of the powerful will only end up betrayed… You’ve been betrayed too, haven’t you? Used and hurt by that man? It can’t be helped, because you saw him as a powerful figure you couldn’t resist. Please bear with it. You must continue to love him properly. Isn’t constantly saying ‘love this, love that’ what everyone loves to do?”

“Ha… ha-hu…”

She gulped down air, trying desperately to calm her mind.

“Moreover, Dr. Shirakawa wasn’t anything special. He was the type who bullied others, disregarded life, derived pleasure from the weak, and was proud of it—a petty person without beliefs or self-respect. When such a person falls into despair and faces death, the expression they show is more unbearable than the average person’s…”

“Don’t… stop talking…”

“Want to see?”

The young man opened his mouth in a grin, smiling pleasantly as he took out his phone from his pants pocket.

“I still have photos of Dr. Shirakawa just before his death. I told him, ‘Next, you’re going to be dismembered,’ and guess what kind of expression Dr. Shirakawa showed? Ahaha, because that grief-stricken face was so amusing, I’ve been using it as my phone’s wallpaper recently… Do you want to see it?”

Kasai Shino lowered her hands that had been desperately trying to cover her ears and slowly placed them over her face, hiding her expression that was on the verge of collapse.

“…Come here.”

After a long while, she said in a low voice.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you want to save this woman?”

Kasai-san suddenly shouted at him.

“Then let me kill you… Please, let me kill you with my own hands…!”

Tears streamed down the female doctor’s face. So much water flowed from her eye sockets that one might wonder if all the fluid in her internal organs had been discharged through her tears.

“Let me kill you… let me… avenge Dr. Shirakawa…”

The novelist was silent for a moment.

Then he put his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll walk over there. At the same time, you push that lady over to this side.”

…

At some point, the tear-streaked Kasai Shino had taken a gun from her pocket. She didn’t shoot at the novelist but pressed it firmly against the back of the head of the woman in the wheelchair.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but the howling wind on the rooftop was getting stronger and stronger.

As he passed by the woman in the wheelchair, the novelist noticed that she hadn’t opened her eyes. Of course, her face wore a worried expression as she looked toward him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about me. After you leave here, quickly find someone to call the police!”

He bent down and whispered in the woman’s ear.

…

The novelist stood in front of Kasai Shino.

She lacked the energy to care about the wheelchair woman’s whereabouts. Instead, she threatened him to raise his hands, and after he turned around, she pressed the gun against the back of the novelist’s head.

“Why… would you go to such lengths?” the person behind him asked.

“No special reason. Just that someone doesn’t want ‘new victims’ to appear, so I’m standing here to stop you.”

“…Even if it means substituting yourself? In that case…”

“No, I won’t die.”

The novelist answered softly.

The fierce wind coming head-on rushed into his nose, mouth, and clothes. He really didn’t get along well with rooftops, never encountering anything good there. But…

The detective and the assistant had only just met.

‘The story of my life has only just begun’—that’s how it should be written.

…

The wind carried distant sounds, the wailing sirens swirling in the air.

“Now, jump down quickly, or… I’ll shoot.”

“I refuse. Under no circumstances will I choose suicide.”

“Is that so… Fine then, you die!”

A great pushing force came from behind, and the novelist staggered forward, his foot stepping into emptiness—

In the upside-down view.

The world lost its stability.

“Bye-bye!”

Before anyone could say those words—perhaps it was just an auditory hallucination—he fell from the building. In his unshackled life, the journey back to the past began—freely.

Blood rushed to his brain.

His eyeballs bulged outward.

His eardrums swelled as he heard the sound of air turbulence.

His whole body felt weightless—even though gravity stretched him as he fell, he couldn’t feel it.

In a word.

He had been pushed off the rooftop.