"We suspect it to be a murder. Although suicide...isn't completely disregarded as a possibility. Yet." The officer continued, laying out the facts as just that, facts, and nothing more. His voice held no apparent emotion, by his eyes said otherwise.

The words struck me like a freight train. My eyes flicking down to the fountain pen in my hand, Jun's brothers pen, as the initials so clearly declared. It shook slightly in my palm, effected by my trembling fingers.

The nameless was corpse no longer nameless in my conscience, and that, made bile rise to my throat.

Watanabe Hitoshi, was dead. And I had the murder weapon, sitting snugly in my coat pocket.

The realization hung over my head, a heavy fog that seemed to wrap my mind in a numbness, a disbelief that didn't quite settle. I felt sick, nausea, guilt, and self-loathing mixing into an unbearable concoction, the kind that would poison anyone that was exposed to it.

The officer looked at me, the look on his face telling me that he was waiting, expecting something.

Instead of a sob or the bile I tasted on my tongue, what bubbled out of me was a laugh, a chuckle. My head hung, a hand covering my mouth, holding back a hysterical giggle.

"Ha....ha.." I breathed, a bitter smile on my lips as I looked up, the officer staring back with a look of pure shock, or concern, I couldn't tell.

"...What...are you laughing at?"

"Ah..." I shook my head, holding my hand up as if to wave his question away.

"I'm just...really tired, officer. All day, every person has been playing me for a fool. Isn't this enough? Why...why would you lie?" I looked down at the pen, a half smile half grimace tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Is this...funny to you?"

That bish blond, some girl acting like this is some political drama, and that guy at the inn, playing Moriarty to a Sherlock I definitely wasn't. Why in the hells am I being played like a fiddle? Why do I feel like a damn pawn in a game I know nothing about?

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my composure as I shoved the pen back into the officer's hands.

The officer didn't budge, the pen still held out to me. He was quiet, the silence stretching until he finally spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I know this is a painful truth. But it is, the truth."

The truth? This. Is the truth? If I could slap myself out of this 'truth', I would.

"Aha. Alright. So this is all true? Then what? What exactly do you want me to do...??" I hissed, my voice coming out gravely, hoarser, more aggressive than I intended.

The officer said nothing, a steely edge to his gaze as he regarded me. He adjusted the fedora that sat on his white locks, grey eyes falling under shadow as I took a step forward.

"Want me to bring him back from the dead??" I snarled, my claws flexing out with the disgusting sound of joints cracking.

"Watanabe Jun." He snapped, his voice stern like a command. I froze, tasting the blood in my mouth, the sting mixing with the cold air that entered my nostrils.

"You need to calm down. Breath." The officer sighed, his tone soft, yet stern, and the way he spoke reminded me of my own father. His gaze was firm, and his expression held a semblance of compassion. Or was it hypocrisy, like my dad's usual schtick.? The impatience of a parent, and the lack of care for emotions, both when it came to themselves, as well as their children.

It pissed me off, that he was trying to act like he cared. That he was acting like I was someone he knew, someone who was the brother of his friend, who was now dead. I didn't even know his bloody name. My acting skills were starting to run on very thin ice.

"..." I didn't say anything, instead taking a deep breath, the anger hanging over me like the fog strangling the skyline. I looked away, down at the street, at a puddle, reflecting the light of the sun, and my own face.

No, not mine. It was the face of Jun.

A droplet fell from a roof above, sending a ripple through the crude mirror, distorting the near crimson eyes, the white hair, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of my face, a gentle brown and black replacing the crimson and the white. It seemed to stare back at me, tired, disappointed...Smug?

It's mouth moved, jittering and unstable, mouthing a simple word.

"Idiot" I echoed, squeezing my eyes shut, heaving a breath.

I can't...I'm being an idiot. I'm digging myself into a hole I won't be able to crawl out of. This whole deal with the identities, it seems straight out of a novel. I couldn't wrap my head around it...or rather, I refused to.

"I understand. Sorry." I breathed, letting the tension in my body relax, my shoulders slumping as the officer patted me on the shoulder, a gesture I could only assume was meant to comfort. I paused, glancing up, a question at the tip of my tongue. Considering Jun's occupation, I made the assumption that I could ask it.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Can I ask...what was the initial assessment of the crime scene?"

"...Suicide, as far as the Shogun's officials are concerned. The body was found on the floor, a gunshot wound through the skull. There is a single bullet lodged into the wall, but there are no signs of struggle, and no witnesses." He stated, his eyes scanning the surrounding area as he leaned back against the wall.

What?

No witnesses..? There should have been. What about the inn staff? And that lunatic just a floor below, he heard it. He said it plain and clear, straight to my face.

Who lied? F***k. They're drowning the case on purpose...

"No sign of forced entry, no sign of forced resistance. No sign of a second person. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except the body of a man, who has no reason to kill himself."

The officer gave me a firm look, taking a step forward to slide the fountain pen into my jacket pocket. "Which is why I believe it to be a murder case. I will not allow them to stop the investigation, I promise you that."

Liar. My finger print was there. My blood was there. Unless someone tampered with the...crime scene?

I nodded, averting my gaze, staring at the puddle. Another drop fell, shattering the reflection.

I wished for it. It didn't align with my morals, or my field of study, but I couldn't help the thoughts that wished for it all to be swept under the rug as a suicide. To sweep the evidence away, and let it return to dust, like his body.

It was the easy way out. A coward's way. But if I got caught, then all I would be, was a coward. A murderous coward.

I shouldn't feel this way. I know I didn't kill him. I can't have. I was walking, from the bus stop to the campus, with a couple of friends, on a regular Tuesday. A irregularly windy day, but normal on all other accounts. I was sleep deprived as usual, complaining about a law major's work load. But then what? I woke up in a murder's body? Watanabe Jun, who could have been my long lost twin from how bloody similar we look?

I let out a huff of breath, my eyes shutting for a brief moment, before opening them, to find the officer still staring at me, his gaze questioning, but I had no answer for him.

"Now, I suggest you return to work, keep your mind busy." He took a step back. "I do have questions, particularly to do with the words that Mr. William used, and that little display of yours." He added, his expression hardening as his gaze flicked to my clawed hands.

"Mutt...bleac spawn...you and I both know what that means, and it is in no way something an officer can ignore. But, you need time, and I have work to attend to." He let out a sigh, adjusting his fedora. "But Jun, please. You can trust me. Do not try to hide anything. Not again. You'll find that I won't be able to help a liar."

"Not again...?" I repeated, the words not quite clicking into place in my mind.

Jun...He did something. But what? Damn it...

He was quiet, his eyes flicking away, the air thick with silence. "Just don't do anything rash, Watanabe Jun. And try to get in contact with your mother, she should receive the message of your brother's passing in around two days time."

"Two days?"

"The mail service is rather slow these days, and we have no way to reach the village in a timely manner, unfortunately."

He paused, letting out a disgruntled sigh as he gestured to my hands. "I suggest you withdraw those. The ground officers won't respond kindly, not with the recent...spike in work."

A chill ran down my spine, my gaze shifting down, at the flexing black that snaked from pointed claws, running up my arms like a parasite. My eyes shook slightly, forced to acknowledge them, the abnormality.

"Hah. Of course they're retractable...!" I muttered, a venom to my voice, my hands clenching into fists, the claws digging into my palm.

"I'm not a goddamn monster."

"Jun." The officer's voice was sharp, his hand gripping my shoulder, an iron grip that sent a itch of pain through my arm. "Calm down."

"I am calm. I'm fine. Just peachy." I hissed, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, forced into place like a malleable mask. "Positively jovial"

"I'm not stupid, Jun. I can see that you're not fine. But you're not a monster. You're a man, a human being, and you're allowed to grieve."

"Grieve?" I scoffed, the smile dropping from my face as I shrugged his hand off. "What is there to grieve? He was a stranger."

The officer's expression twitched, his eyes narrowing, the air around him becoming colder, his grip on my shoulder tightening to an almost agonizing degree. "A stranger? Jun, he was your brother."

"Was." I spat, my tone biting, and the words coming out before I could stop them. It jumped out from the recesses of my mind, a single word that seemed as it were not my own.

"Was." I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "He was a stranger, and now he's dead. That's all."

"And you know what? I'm alive." I laughed, a bitter sound that was more like a bark. "And I'm not about to waste my time, or energy, on a stranger, a dead one at that. I'm not a damn charity, and I'm not a fool."

"I'm not a fool." I hissed, the words coming out as a growl. The sound startled me, but I didn't relent, the pain of both my claws and the officers tightening grip seeping into the abyss of my mind. The officer's expression was unreadable, He took in a sharp breath and his grip loosened, his hand dropping to his side.

"No. You're not."

He paused, his eyes flicking away, his gaze distant, and his expression, unreadable.

"But you're a fool for thinking you can handle this alone."

"I can, and I will." I snapped, a growl in my voice, the sound of a dog, a beast, a monster.

He pinched the bridge of hi nose, letting out a breath that swirled across the icy air like cigar smoke. It mixed with the murky smoke of the real deal as he pulled out a pack of cigars from his front pocket, and lit it with a small metal box, a click echoing in the all but silent alleyway as it created a spark.

"Give me your hands. Now." He commanded, the cigar held between his teeth, the smoke pluming out from his mouth.

"What?"

"Your hands."

I hesitated, the claws flexing, the joints cracking, as if taunting me. His glare sent a cold feeling down my spine, one born of guilt, fear, and the slightest bit of shame.

"Fine." I muttered, holding them out, the claws flexing out.

The officer took my hand, thumb pressing painfully near my pulse as if to check something. He then took hi cigar in one hand, not giving me even a second to process the pain as he pushed the smoldering end on top of my pulsing vein.

"Agh!!"

I flinched, a hiss of pain escaping my lips, the smell of burnt flesh filling my nose. Alongside that was the smell of ink, stinging my nose, and my eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I snapped, the claws flexing, except they weren't there. They were gone, the black having retreated, leaving behind only a faint outline, a tattoo, on my knuckle. A small, black symbol, a snake, reminiscent of the symbol used by medical services.

"What the hell...?"

"You're not the only one cast to play the part of a monster, Watanabe Jun." The officer's voice was low, his eyes steeled as he dropped the cigar to the ground, and crushed it under his heel.