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That was a real headache for me too, you know.
"It would be more certain if we got the answer from the man himself... but right now, I'm thinking he probably went there to apologize."
"Apologize? To who?"
"To Nawa Mitsuaki. I suspect he was begging for forgiveness. Right after burying the body, his health inexplicably declined. You can't blame a coward if his unstable mind interpreted that as a curse."
And so, Watarai-san went to pray before the body as it began to decompose, and as a result, ended up drawing my suspicion.
If we hadn't borrowed that notebook from Nagase that day, we wouldn't have gone to the convenience store. His granddaughter's actions indirectly became a factor in digging into Watarai-san's psyche. That's what you call irony.
"After that, it was just a matter of harassment, cornering him, and giving him a push. Yesterday, Watarai-san himself finally took action with resolve, and that became the proof."
I hadn't expected him to bounce back with such high spirits, or rather, I just hadn't thought deeply about the outcome.

The nurse let out a plausible-sounding "Heh..." of admiration, but seemed to spot a question mid-breath. Her swimming eyes turned towards me.
"Hm? So, you mean, even *before* you knew Watarai-san was the culprit, you didn't stop him from tasting my home cooking?"
"If you look at it cynically, you could say that."
"That's how it looks even *without* looking cynically! You say that with such a cool face, you cruel kid."
"There was no way to stop him, was there? I didn't have the logic to overturn your righteous claim about not wasting food. And I couldn't exactly make a fuss shouting, 'It's poisoned!', could I?"
(Internal thought) I also wanted to prevent Mayu from being interrogated if it became a police matter.
(Internal thought) Besides, this hospital is run by Dr. Sakashita's family, so I couldn't exactly spread nasty rumors. As a local kid who values duty and compassion, I couldn't really bring myself to repay kindness with malice, could I?
(Internal thought) Honestly, the role of food taster was one I wanted to entrust entirely to the high schooler, but by a twist of fate, our beds were diagonal, and more than anything, I had a personal hang-up about not wanting to fulfill Mayu's request with *his* help.

"Oh, and like I mentioned earlier, I have an acquaintance in the police."
"Hmm?"
"If you show any intention of harming Mayu again, I won't hesitate to report you."
The simple warning was received by the nurse with a simple "Yeah, yeah."
"So, what was Watarai-san's motive? Sexual assault?"
"That's also hard to dismiss."
(Internal thought) I have no evidence to deny it.
The nurse, while asking, "So what do *you* think?", picked up the lukewarm water I'd left untouched and poured it down her throat. (Internal thought) Making a big deal about an indirect kiss worked on Nagase. Though I did get punched.
"Explaining that involves another related matter."
"Quite the tease. Continue."
"The fact that Nawa Mitsuaki's crutch was left in her room."
"Ah, yeah, the police are questioning that too, right? Whether it's a disappearance, kidnapping, or murder, why was it left there?"
"For someone familiar with the situation, I think it's actually quite simple. I don't have proof, but Itsuki brought it back."
The nurse's surprise was solely undertaken by her eyelids. Even if not sixteen shots a second, she was blinking at a rate approaching five times per second. Mentioning her little 'disciple's' name here was probably akin to an accident.

"Itsuki's involved too?"
"She's the real culprit."
(Internal thought) I was good at making assertions, even with only flimsy grounds.
Agitated without trying to hide it, the nurse retorted.
"Watarai-san and Itsuki... they're connected by more than just being grandfather and granddaughter?"
"Itsuki produced the corpse, and Watarai-san shipped it."
(Internal thought) Although, Itsuki shouldn't be aware of Watarai-san's existence yet.
To the nurse, who was bewildered and afflicted with the 'Silence' status ailment, I spoke.
"Let's list three possible causes for Nawa Mitsuaki's death. It's important to look at the whole picture."
"I didn't look *that* closely, but maybe the wound on her temple?"
My question was cheerfully ignored by the nurse, who had naturally recovered from her silence.
"I think so too. I suspect it was from falling down the stairs."
"....... Stairs? Hoh, put into words, 'Hospital Staircase.' Sounds like it could be a movie."
The nurse's pupils contracted at the mention of this newly introduced location and weapon.
"You know more about Itsuki than I do, right?"
"I know everything about her, from the corns on her feet to the shine of her scalp!" (Internal thought) That's what the world calls a stalker.
"For example, how she can't go to the toilet alone at night. And are you aware of Itsuki's habit?"
"Habit... Ah, that thing. Where she playfully jumps on people right away. And the toilet... hmm, so, you're saying Nawa Mitsuaki and Itsuki went to the toilet together, and somewhere near the stairs on the way, Itsuki playfully bumped into her like usual, and the impact sent Nawa Mitsuaki tumbling down—is that it?"
"That's roughly what I'm imagining, without the permission of the characters involved."
"Hmmph," the nurse sounded unconvinced.
I supplemented with a bit more explanation.
"When we went to view the body, I checked, and there were several long, horizontal bruises on Nawa Mitsuaki's back. At first, I suspected the culprit had some grotesque hobby and was planning to make a human piano or something, but then I remembered the lonely, forgetful killer earnestly pleading that they wouldn't torture the victim at the scene. In reality, it involves risks, and unsavory hobbies are things one enjoys hunched over, away from prying eyes. Which led me to think...
The floor of the old wing was splintered, and glass fragments were scattered around. I figured if she'd been beaten, she'd have at least one or two small scrapes on the front of her body. But in reality, there was nothing."
"So, you're saying she fell backwards down the stairs?"
"Well, it's just speculation."
"Hmph," the nurse sighed, slightly differently than before.
"If Nawa Mitsuaki had gone out without using her crutch, it would be a different story. But apparently, she was a middle schooler who hadn't hit her rebellious phase yet, so she probably followed the doctor's orders."
(Internal thought) Besides, over the last few days, I did some asking around with the old lady in her room, and she testified that the girl was a crutch freak. Her hands also had calluses, proof of heavy use.

"When Mayu witnessed Watarai-san carrying Nawa Mitsuaki, he didn't have the crutch. If it had been at the scene, it's something he definitely would have disposed of. Yet, the crutch was back in the room the next day. Thinking about the urgent situation, with nurses potentially coming on rounds any minute, it's hard to believe Watarai-san would abandon the body just to return the crutch. So, I figured someone else must have been at the scene, and *they* retrieved it."
"And that was Itsuki?"
"Probably. I suspect Watarai-san, on his way to his nightly routine—a pseudo-night-crawl—happened to witness Nawa Mitsuaki and Nagase Itsuki. And then, to act as a substitute for Itsuki, who had fled from Nawa Mitsuaki, he hid the body."
(Internal thought) And then, Mayu witnessed him heading to the old wing, and *that* Mayu was tailed by the nurse. Meaning, there was a chain of witnesses: Nurse -> Mayu -> Watarai-san. This created discrepancies, complicating the case.
"Why would Itsuki only bring back the crutch?"
"She probably made an effort, grasping at straws, hoping people would interpret it as: 'She went out hopping on one foot to the toilet, lost her balance, and fell down the stairs.'"
(Internal thought) And that effort bore different fruit thanks to an unexpected collaborator, affecting the case to a greater or lesser extent.
"Well, yeah, Itsuki would be scared too, right? The body vanished overnight!"
"Ah, I totally get it! The other day, my wallet's contents vanished overnight too, leaving only an expired phone card!" 'How mysterious, yes, yes,' the nurse nodded, elevating a drunkard's nonsense to the level of a phenomenon. She's someone whose happiness meter hasn't run out.
"So, is the deduction finished?"
I gave a small shrug.
"There's still something that's hard to judge, even with speculation."
"What?"
"We mentioned it earlier, but there's that large bruise from a blow on Nawa Mitsuaki's temple, right?"
The nurse let her eyes and memory swim for a few seconds, then nodded in understanding, "Ah."
"I was wondering what that was. That spot alone is separate from the cluster of bruises on her back. Did she hit that spot when she fell down the stairs and die? Or was she still breathing, but Watarai-san, fearing his granddaughter would be blamed, delivered the finishing blow? Or was she already dead, and it was just one extra hit for good measure? If it's the first, then it's still Itsuki, but if it's the latter, Watarai-san becomes the culprit."
(Internal thought) Alternatively, the possibility that Itsuki recognized Watarai-san as her grandfather and covered for a relative who committed murder is also worth considering. However, regardless of the process, the fact remains that Nawa Mitsuaki became a corpse.
"Either way, judging from Watarai-san's reaction, it seems the main points weren't wrong, so I was relieved."
(Internal thought) Since I'm not in a position to conduct forensic investigations or provide clear evidence, it was a kind of gamble.

(Internal thought) But I reckoned the odds weren't bad.
"Well, if he's that distraught, Watarai-san should be able to achieve his goal, don't you think? Even if he says he killed Nawa Mitsuaki, few people would doubt him."
(Internal thought) Unlike a coward like me, he'll succeed in taking the blame for someone precious to him.
(Internal thought) I feel something, having been able to help with that.
(Internal thought) Maybe, for that purpose, I— "Hey!"
The nurse's hand waved in front of my face. Apparently, she'd been talking to me.
My heart rate accelerating slightly, I prompted, "Go ahead."
"You know, the way you talk, it's like your feeling of 'I don't care' shines right through. Is your wall of ethics set kinda low? Or are you playing the saint, treating even a first-class criminal like me without distinction?"
She paired sarcasm with self-deprecation, probing into my inner thoughts.
"Murder is certainly a sin. Something to be judged. That's absolute. But, if there's no one who recognizes the sin, then there's no problem. That's my perspective on crime."
(Internal thought) A criminal isn't someone judged by emotional discretion, but someone unforgivable based on human good and evil. If I were to say that, then Mayu...
"I acknowledge people who have committed murder. Therefore, I turn a blind eye to other murderers, and I don't nitpick about private judgments. As long as you have no intention of causing further harm to me, and especially to Mayu, your identity is an irrelevant matter. Even if you are a righteous poisoner."
(Internal thought) Just this once, though, there's a bit of a lie mixed in.
(Internal thought) Even though I realized midway that you posed no threat to Mayu, I didn't pull back the neck I'd stuck out. Why was that? I ask myself.
(Internal thought) My motive.
(Internal thought) Why did I stick my neck in until the end?
(Internal thought) It was because I learned Watarai-san's principle of action.
(Internal thought) Because he was doing the same thing as me...
(Internal thought) I felt like cheering him on a little.
(Internal thought) Really, just that?
(Internal thought) Really, just that.
(Internal thought) A terribly kind, unkindly terrible reason.
The nurse, who had been lost in thought, spun her impression of me. Her words were devoid of emotion, flat like a kamaboko board.
"You know, you're kinda... white."
"......White?"
"Transparent, maybe? No defining features."
"Do I seem like such a faint, shadowy boy? People often tell me I'm black-hearted, though."
"Yeah. Openly black."
I felt like she'd made a rather clever remark.
"Maybe that's why..." In a solemn atmosphere, the nurse stopped the march of time.
"...Um, maybe that's why *what*?"
"I was searching for a cool sentence to follow up with, but somehow it kept leading to a pay raise........."
(Internal thought) What kind of life view is that?
(Internal thought) Just when I was about to establish a once-in-a-lifetime stage for philosophy and authenticity with this person. The papier-mâché facade crumbled from within.

"Besides, your character overlaps with Sensei's, you know."
"*Whaddaya say, punk!* I'm* the Sensei!"
"Even the way you refer to yourself overlaps. Nothing good about that."
"Mokyaaa!" She placed her hands on the edge of the table, as if to underhand throw it— Then suddenly, she regained her sanity.

"Who's *your* 'Sensei'? A friend who generously lends you his secret stash of ero DVDs?"
"No, Sakashita Koibi-san."
"Hoh, Sakashita's... young lady? Our director's daughter?"
"Yes. Currently, she's regressed primitively into a splendid freeloader."
".........Hold on, I'm changing my character."
"Haaah..." Apparently, she decided to bow to the powerful.
(Internal thought) At this point, her painful awkwardness was firmly established.
"Aaalright," she psyched herself up, producing a shady smile.
"Hey, your bandage is crooked. I'll fix it for you."
She pulled my head towards her somewhat forcefully and licked my cheek.
As expected, since it was the second time, my cheek merely stiffened like an actor in a silent play.
"If you can explain what meaning that holds, please do."
"I thought I'd try my best as the 'Cheek-Licking Character.'"
"It'd be quicker to become a resident of the Yokai Apartments."
When I said that, she made her tongue crawl over it again.
The third time, I was impressed by the heat of her tongue.

And thus, my 'checking the answers' ended naturally, without a score being explicitly given. But for her and me, the case was resolved.
That, for me, was the model answer.

Parting ways with the nurse who was heading home, I returned to Mayu's side.
Mayu, quiet but breathing the soft snores of healthy sleep.
Returning to her side... I can't quite say why.
Standing beside the bed, I opened the curtain slightly.
A black sky, tinged with grey, colored the window.
Cold air seeped from the window frame, tracing beneath my chin and across my forehead. My breath bleached the jet black, and when I placed my finger there, my fingerprint was neatly imprinted.
I removed the curtain from my view.
Doing so revealed the moon, exposed diagonally to the left.
The moonlight sent wave-like stimuli to my tear ducts. Not sentimental, but physiological tears threatened to flow.
There were times I was forced into a life of greeting nights where the moon wasn't overhead.
But if I looked up, the sky alone was everywhere.
A wooden sky, a concrete sky, a stone sky.
It was unwavering, transcendently covering us.
And the sky, viewed while my feet weren't touching the ground, seemed easy enough to touch.
When I pressed my palm against the window, the moon disappeared.
The sky, too, was cut out into darkness in the shape of my hand.
At that moment, my hand had certainly reached the sky.
My hand covered up that which was correctly heading towards tomorrow.

**Chapter 6 End: "So That I Am Not Me"**

(Internal thought) Maa-chan, I hate you most in the world.

The discharge day, awaited more eagerly by Mayu than by me, arrived five days after the case concluded.
Deep inside the paper bag packed with my change of clothes, I stuffed and hid the manga volume I'd borrowed from Sensei. A measure to prevent my debt from increasing any further.
I gathered my few but heavy personal belongings and grasped the crutch that had completely become an extension of my hand. The day the bandages come off my leg is still about two or three weeks away, but I decided to leave the hospital according to Mayu's convenience. Since it was already later than initially planned, Maa-chan was still quite upset about it, though.

The hospital room, where familiarity had accumulated in trace amounts like summer rain. Looking around, there were only two people; the neighboring bed maintained an emotionless cleanliness. Watarai-san's wife had cleared out his belongings, and the bed was perfectly ready for the next patient. However, though not shepherd's purse, a withered white flower remained in the vase. It wasn't sad.
The Watarai-san in question was arrested by the police as the scapegoat, while Itsuki continues her life with a gentle smile. Watarai-san's wish met its end in its ultimate form. "And with that, the case is closed," as they'd conclude in a period drama.

I took a step forward on my crutch. The high schooler offered only a "Later" as his parting words, accompanied by an unreservedly insincere, sarcastic smile. So, I had no choice but to reply politely, trying not to hurt his feelings, "Hope we don't meet again." In the end, I never figured out if this high schooler was younger, older, or on the same level as me. Since it was a matter of less-than-no-importance, I decided that was for the best.
The middle-aged man, loyal as ever to his basic instincts and desires, was out taking pictures of pretty-faced patients (never mind their personalities) and good-looking nurses (character secondary to appearance). Before leaving, just as I thought he might hand over a parting gift, he spoke in a voice as thin as paper, enough to stun a mosquito, "You... have a girlfriend... so... leaving the hospital, huh," structuring the sentence like a three-part epic—prologue, middle, epilogue—and then omitting the middle part. I had no choice but to encourage him with heartfelt emotion, "Good luck."
And so, having experienced farewells I absolutely did not want to cherish, my spirit achieved growth lacking the stability of building blocks. My core disposition is frail, fatally wounded by magnitude 2 earthquakes or the medium setting on a fan, but my pseudo-virtue lies in the fact that even if I collapse, the individual parts are hard to break.

I went out into the hallway. I wanted to stylishly proceed via the familiar 'Movement' and 'Stairs,' but I was blocked by a flag set to 'Cleaning in Progress,' so I reluctantly headed elsewhere. Everything except the reason isn't a lie.
Before I quit being a patient who wasn't sick, I decided to use the visitor's room.
This time, *I* was the one who invited the other party.

(Internal thought) "Let's wrap this up quickly, I need to go get Mayu." Her case is over.
(Internal thought) Now, I need to touch upon the case that *I* have to finish.

The day before, I'd used the hospital payphone, dialing the number I'd memorized to call Nagase Tohru. Today being the depressing Monday for students and workers, Nagase appeared in her uniform, not violating any dress code.
"I didn't expect to be called out on a weekday, ssu."
"Ah, is that so? Since my status is 'Every Day is Foundation Day,' I carelessly forgot."
"Anyway, what's with that face and head, ssu?"
"I tried returning to the wild, but a mandrill chased me away."
"Honestly... Still saying stupid things, doing stupid things... you weirdo, ssu."
(Internal thought) Your grandpa rejected me, saying he wouldn't give his daughter to me. We ended up fighting, me yelling, 'I don't want her, you senile old fool, give me the granddaughter!' Just kidding, though.

Nagase, with a complex expression—not truly annoyed deep down, but putting on a sullen face for appearance's sake—sat down next to me, holding down her skirt. ......Hey, why are you becoming my neighbor? I didn't invite my guest to the sofa opposite me.
Utterly oblivious to the appeal in my gaze, Nagase plopped down with a "Heave-ho," placed her shoes at her feet, and sprawled out completely.
"Well, now I've missed out on the perfect attendance award, ssu."
"Guess I did something bad then."
"Nuh-uh, it's a good thing, ssu." The sullenness left Nagase's face, replaced by a smile that revealed her good upbringing.
"I thought we'd parted after a fight, but you even remembered my phone number and called, ssu."
"It's because I had something to discuss." (Internal thought) If I didn't, I wouldn't call again.
"So, what's this 'something', ssu?"
"There was something I forgot to tell you before." (Internal thought) Even though it was crucial, I carelessly forgot.
Nagase went, "Hmm? Hmm?", clearly expecting something optimistic.
But I didn't respond to that. Taking a deep breath, I added a warning to her.
"I won't forgive any further harm coming to Mayu. That's all I forgot to say."
(Internal thought) Truly careless of me. How shameful.
Nagase looked blank. Her outstretched legs and the elbow hooked over the top of the backrest looked comical.
After a few seconds of silence, Nagase reactivated her blinking and other various functions.
"Uh, what are you talking about, ssu?"
"Nagase Tohru. You were the one who hit Mayu on the head with the vase, weren't you?"
At my teacher-like admonishing tone, Nagase sighed with a bitter expression.
(Internal thought) Perhaps she's depressed because this is demolition work, not construction.
"Even if you say that, I can only answer 'No solution.' Maa-chan's injury? Feels like 'What's that?', ssu."
"You know, Mayu was smacked head-on, didn't even faint, and says she doesn't know the culprit. What do you think that means?"
"That Tohru reads too many mystery novels, ssu?"
"It means Mayu isn't normal. Especially towards people she calls 'Maa-chan.'" (Internal thought) Like me, or Nagase.
Nagase's left eyebrow showed a minute reaction. Her beautiful habit of being bad at hiding things.
Nagase corrected her posture and lightly brushed her skirt above her knees. Hearing an auditory hallucination telling me, "Please continue," I didn't wait for Nagase's reply and presented my original fairy tale.
"Once upon a time, after Misono Mayu was released from confinement and started going to elementary school again, several old friends and classmates called out to her. And there, something strange occurred. Every time they called her 'Maa-chan,' Misono Mayu would confirm it with odd words. Yes, she had become someone who only sought out people who called her 'Maa-chan,' only 'Mii-kun.' Even though the 'Mii-kun' in question remembered nothing about 'Maa-chan.' Her friends, who had only been concerned on the surface, grew weary of her strange behavior, easily discarded the surface layer like peeling sunburned skin, and stopped being Mayu's friends."

Nagase looked like she was about to let her will explode with a grave attitude, so I waited for her to speak.
"Criticizing that now? Are you telling me to keep being friends with a girl who started responding with 'Don't talk to me unless you call me that, it's annoying', ssu?"
"I'm not saying the friends were at fault. Mayu shutting all her friends out of her memory, not letting them exist even in the past tense, is one cause. But that's not the issue right now."
"So, you're saying that because calling her Maa-chan messes up her memory, *I* must have done it since I use that name, ssu?"
"Yup," I affirmed, parrying the perceptive Nagase's boiling anger.
"I'm thinking, without proof, that it wasn't intentional. You visited her, there was some kind of exchange, and in the midst of it, the vase acted on behalf of an anger that suddenly ignited."
(Internal thought) And if that's true, it means my entire hospitalization has been me being constantly messed around with by the Nagase family.
She let out a long breath, roughly swept her hair back, and drew red lines on her scalp with her nails.
And then, Nagase's weary-sounding words.
"I won't deny it, ssu."
"Ooh, what a frank culprit."
"Even if I denied it here, 'Mii-kun' would just assume I did it anyway, right, ssu?"
(Internal thought) Hmm, looks like she's learned how to use sarcasm over the past year. Should I praise her if she's self-taught?
"So you're jumping to conclusions and refusing to forgive me, ssu?"
"Right on the money, crunch time. Mayu can't be hurt any more than this."
"Is Maa-chan that important to you?" Nagase's question, with contempt hidden in every joint.
"If you can't tell just by looking from the outside, then our expression of it must still be too subtle."
"Even though she doesn't need *Tohru himself*?" Nagase's deadly weapon attack. The me of a while ago would have flinched, degenerating into a high schooler drunk on self-abandonment.
"But for me, whose body was forged by your grandfather's assault and whose bonds were tempered by your little sister's murder, blocking out pain was a simple task."
"What Tohru's doing... that's just being Maa-chan's doll, right? How stupid, ssu."
(Internal thought) Ooh, a story-like turn of phrase. Nagase liked reading too, didn't she?
"And by that logic, what Nagase desires is a doll named 'Tohru,' I suppose?"
"Don't lump me together with *that*!" (Internal thought) With *that*, punk! Before I even had time to submit a complaint with a fully rolled tongue, Nagase dribbled out the rest.
"Maa-chan isn't looking at Tohru, right? It doesn't have to be Tohru! I just call you Tohru because I thought it might be better, that's all, ssu! Fine, should I say your name? You don't want to be called XXXX XX, right? This is just a game, completely different from someone like Maa-chan! I like Tohru himself—"
"Doubt."
I didn't miss the stage where her narrative became deception. (Internal thought) Not that it mattered either way.
Just as Nagase, whose passionate speech seemed poised to employ the stage effect of tears if sustained for a few more seconds, I exposed my palm before her eyes, halting her time.