NOVEL NEXT Episode 16 - Acting Like a Detective (Part 2)
Episode 16: Acting Like a Detective (Part 2)
The corridor reeked of disinfectant.
Medical staff in white coats rushed through the hallway as he navigated around scattered wheelchairs and stretchers, making his way deeper into the building.
He stopped at a door bearing a metal nameplate: “Shirakawa Keigo” – the former chief psychiatrist at Nagawa City Hospital who had diagnosed Otsuka Ken.
Dr. Shirakawa now practiced at this private general hospital in Tokyo.
The novelist drew a deep breath, straightened his collar and buttons, and checked the recording device in his pocket.
He’d dressed more maturely for this visit. A conversation with the doctor would be difficult to pursue if his true identity as a high school student came to light.
“Excuse me, is Dr. Shirakawa in?”
He knocked.
“Yes, please come in.”
A gentle, measured voice answered from within.
…
Sunlight poured through the windows, casting golden patches across the desk corner and tiled floor. The office items stood in meticulous order.
Behind the desk sat a tall, slim man in gold-rimmed glasses, watching him with a smile.
Age was difficult to pinpoint from his appearance alone. Dr. Shirakawa’s fair, unwrinkled face and well-manicured nails suggested he might be in his thirties. Yet streaks of silver threading through his groomed hair hinted at greater years.
“Hello,” he nodded to Dr. Shirakawa.
“Please, have a seat.”
The doctor rose eagerly, poured hot water into a cup, and placed it before him.
“This is quite surprising. You look much younger than I imagined.”
“Likewise,” the novelist surveyed the room. Beside him stood shelves of folders and medical texts. Near his hand lay a thick English volume – “Walden Two” embossed in gold on its spine.
“I hadn’t expected you’d moved to ophthalmological surgery. Have you abandoned psychiatric practice, Dr. Shirakawa? Was it because of that incident eight years ago?”
The doctor paused, a bitter smile playing at his lips.
“…Such direct questions. However…”
He sighed.
“You’re essentially correct.”
*
“I never expected anyone would still care about this case. Your call genuinely startled me.”
“Really? A murder case with five innocent victims and mysterious motives seems naturally intriguing.”
“‘Trends’ expire. Without sensational methods or motives that ignite public passion, it barely registers these days.”
Dr. Shirakawa lifted his teacup, adding calmly, “Though that’s not something to celebrate.”
“For someone directly involved like myself, discussing this calmly now was once unbearable. People driven by curiosity were like insects drawn to an open wound.”
“…Was that why? The reason you left your position and gave up psychiatry?”
“I simply found it troubling,” the doctor clicked his tongue – whether from bitter tea or acrid memories remained unclear.
“Let me share something I rarely mention. I knew Otsuka-kun for five years before his crimes.”
“Oh?” The novelist looked up, surprised.
“You knew him before diagnosing his condition for the police after the murders?”
“Yes. I was his primary physician – I was friends with Otsuka-kun’s father.”
“That’s…”
The novelist’s confusion showed plainly.
“Otsuka-kun was remarkably like his father,” nostalgia crossed the doctor’s face.
“Their personality, outlook, even their illnesses – both physical and psychological – were strikingly similar.”
“When I met Otsuka-kun’s father… yes, it was when his wife left. It really surprised me…”
Shirakawa Keigo’s eyes narrowed.
“Being approached by the yakuza was a first. Though perhaps it wasn’t such a shock – with such uncertain thoughts, I became that man’s primary physician.”
“Then I met Otsuka-kun. Since his father was often absent, he probably spent more time with me.”
“That child was truly endearing. Despite early hardships, he never complained and loved his father dearly. Very patient, a good child.”
His tone softened with genuine nostalgia about Otsuka Ken; these weren’t manufactured emotions.
“And then…”
The doctor fell silent.
Quiet filled the office.
Having cared for his friend’s child as his own junior, facing Otsuka Ken as a murderer must have been… devastating.
“When did the signs of Otsuka Ken’s mental illness first appear?”
The novelist’s gaze returned from the thick foliage outside as he asked gently.
“…The seeds were planted during those five years. But the trigger that derailed everything came after.”
The doctor spoke softly.
“I wonder if you understand. What exactly is ‘abnormality’? As a psychiatrist, this question haunted me. The cold-blooded killer and the child waiting for his father – both were versions of Otsuka-kun I witnessed firsthand. Where lies the difference? Where is the boundary, the horizon?”
“I agonized constantly, but when answers eluded me, I chose avoidance. That’s human nature, isn’t it? Continuing would have made me appear abnormal to others. I couldn’t say ‘that doesn’t matter, I must find my answer’ or do the right thing. My weakness and concern for others’ opinions drove me to conform to society. That’s probably why I gave up.”
*
Their conversation stretched into evening.
“Thank you very much for today.”
He bowed deeply.
“It’s fine. I haven’t spoken this much with anyone in a long time. It’s not unwelcome.”
Dr. Shirakawa smiled meaningfully.
“While I appreciate your curiosity, please prioritize your studies. Some things are better left unsaid. Even these unclear boundaries… perhaps the future you will understand.”
…So he had seen through the disguise.
The novelist nodded, rose, and again expressed his gratitude.
He left the office and walked down the corridor painted with dusk’s remnants, leaving the doctor alone in his world.