On the video call screen, Kasumi Asakura, who was supposed to be dead, was tied to a chair.
Her cheeks were hollow, and her lips were dry. The white-flower pendant swayed faintly with each breath.
Ren's face wasn't visible.
I pressed <Answer>.
"Mio, don't!"
The call connected before Nana could stop me.
"Good evening."
It was Ren's voice.
"What did you do to her?"
"It wasn't me. It was you."
"I don't understand."
Ren moved the camera. An old laptop sat in front of Kasumi, and my face was reflected on its screen. It wasn't the video feed from the current call. My hair was longer, and I was wearing my sister's white coat.
That was me five years ago.
"You don't remember?"
"I've never seen that footage."
"On August seventeenth, you met her."
August seventeenth, five years ago. Two days after my sister died. I'd been at my parents' house preparing for the funeral.
The moment I thought that, a single fragment of my severed memory returned.
A station at night. A coin locker. My sister's white coat.
Someone had called me there, saying they needed to talk about Kasumi's death.
"Mio?"
Nana's voice sounded far away.
Ren played the video.
The me from five years ago was facing the woman from the party photo.
"You're Kasumi Asakura?"
"Yes. I'm Ren's wife."
"You knew my sister?"
"I did. Kasumi Fujisaki died in my place."
The woman in the video lunged at her. The image distorted, and someone's hand touched the back of my neck. Then the video ended.
"What did I do after that?"
"You didn't do anything. Your memory was erased."
"By whom?"
Ren didn't answer. Instead, he turned the camera toward the restrained woman.
"Ms. Kasumi Asakura," I called out. "Tell me what happened to my sister."
The woman raised her face.
"I'm not Kasumi Asakura."
They were the same words spoken by my sister in the audio file.
"My real name is Sara Takase. I'm that man's younger sister."
Takase, the person who had left the box in front of my door. His younger sister was claiming to be Ren's wife.
"What about the marriage registration form?"
"It's forged. A woman named Kasumi Asakura really did exist. But she died five years ago."
"The woman in the newspaper article?"
"Yes. She was his first wife. I was forced to use the same name as his second wife."
The wife had died twice.
First, the real Kasumi Asakura. Then Sara, who had been given that name.
"Why make you use the same name?"
"So it could be passed on."
"What could?"
"Bank accounts, contracts, houses, social connections. Even if the face is different, cutting off contact with everyone around you makes them treat you as the same person. Ren and the others rewrite online identity verification."
Sara's face on the screen looked utterly exhausted as she continued.
"The first Kasumi was the daughter of a wealthy family. Even after she died, Ren needed to keep her alive. That's why he chose me."
"You handed over your own sister, Takase?"
"My brother was given another name, too. Even Takase isn't his real surname."
Multiple people inherited one person's identity, while the original name was processed as belonging to the dead. That's why the newspaper said Kasumi Asakura had died, and three months ago, Sara had been declared dead too.
"Why would Ren do something like that?"
"Not to erase people. To create people who don't exist. People with no debts, criminal records, or nationality—people who can become anything."
Ren Asakura himself was the finished example.
He had no resident registration or employment records. Even so, as long as he had a business card, a way with words, and the trust of a lover, he could exist within society.
"He used to say that a record of being loved was the strongest proof of identity."
Ached deep inside my chest. To Ren, even the three months we'd spent together had been a record reinforcing his identity.
"You're alive."
Sara slowly shook her head.
"Officially, I'm dead. Since the night Nana saw me three months ago."
Nana sucked in a breath.
Ren wasn't killing people. He was killing their identities and giving them other names.
"Did he change my sister's name too?"
"Kasumi Fujisaki refused. That's why he claimed to be you, her younger sister."
The words left on the recording: I'm not Kasumi. I'm Mio Fujisaki.
My sister hadn't been confused. She had pretended to offer up my identity to buy time.
"Does Ren think I'm my sister?"
"At first. But he soon realized you weren't her. Even so, you had value to him."
"What kind of value?"
When Sara tried to answer, Ren's hand reached in from outside the frame and covered her mouth.
"One question at a time, Mio."
"What's your real name?"
"If you want to know that, come to Hakone tomorrow."
A map appeared on the call screen. It showed a closed retreat facility that had been designated as our trip destination.
"If you come alone, I'll trade Sara for the pendant."
"Takase has the pendant."
"It already reached me."
Ren brought the white-flower pendant closer to the screen.
"It contains more than just your sister's voice. It holds the records of all thirteen people whose names were stolen."
"Give it to the police."
"What name would you have the police search for me under?"
Ren Asakura didn't exist in the resident registry or at any company.
"The only person who knows my name is this woman."
Ren tugged on Sara's restraints.
"If you don't come by ten tomorrow morning, another wife will die."
The call ended.
Nana called the police right away. She had recorded the call, but when we played it back, neither Sara's voice nor Ren's was on it. The video showed me talking to myself.
The police officer checked the original recording and saved the call history and communication logs. The connection had passed through overseas servers, making it impossible to trace the source.
"If the other party isn't visible, it's weak evidence of a kidnapping."
"I saw her."
"I'm not saying I doubt you. But we need to build enough grounds to send officers to the site."
I showed the officer the address of the closed retreat facility, the marriage registration form, the newspaper article, and the party photo in turn. The scattered pieces of information began lining up in the officer's notes as a single incident.
Nana saved Takase's recording to the cloud. I sent the audio file and the DMs to separate locations too.
This time, I wanted the evidence to remain even if it was erased from our devices.
But when I checked the sent files, the playback time of my sister's audio had gotten shorter.
The final words—I'm not Kasumi. I'm Mio Fujisaki.—were gone.
Someone was editing even the publicly shared evidence in real time.
"We know where it is. Let's have the police go ahead of us."
At Nana's suggestion, I showed her the map. The actual police officers requested backup and contacted the Kanagawa Prefectural Police.
On the way, a DM arrived from the wife's account.
<Even if you send the police there, they won't find the building.>
<Are you Sara?>
<Yes.>
The woman who had appeared on the video call was sending DMs at the same time.
<How?>
<They were scheduled messages. I've known for three months that this call would take place.>
<Ren is holding you captive.>
<The woman you saw on the screen was in a recording from three months ago.>
In other words, Ren had made old footage look like a live broadcast.
<Where are you now?>
<In your apartment.>
I looked around. Nana, a police officer, and a locksmith. There was no one else.
<Don't lie to me.>
<Open the cabinet under the sink.>
I headed to the bathroom with Nana and the police officer. We opened the cabinet door. After taking out the detergent and towels, we found a narrow gap in the board at the back.
The officer removed the board.
There was a hollow space inside the wall, large enough for one person to pass through.
It was a maintenance passage leading to the neighboring unit.
A white hand reached out from the darkness.
The woman the officer pulled out was thinner than she had been in the party photo. Rope marks circled her neck. But there was no mistaking her—she was Sara Takase.
"You've been here for three months?"
Sara shook her head.
"I was brought here by Takase tonight. Before the box arrived."
A blanket, bottles of water, and a small tablet lay on the floor of the passage. Four camera feeds showing my apartment were displayed on the tablet.
The entrance, living room, bedroom, and bathroom.
For three months, Ren had watched me talking with him, choosing clothes, and sleeping here.
The police officer checked the locations of the hidden cameras. The fire alarm, the TV's power light, the outlets. I had no idea when they had been installed.
"Sara, who let you into this passage?"
"My brother. But Ren had ordered him to do it."
"Where is Ren Asakura now?"
"I don't know. We've never met him in the same place twice."
"What about the call just now?"
"That was only his voice. You're the only person left who has ever seen his face."
"Then what was the video call?"
"A recording. But Ren knew everything you were going to say."
Sara pointed at my smartphone.
"The Instruction Manual isn't a prediction of the future. It's a test that records your reactions."
"For whom?"
"For you."
Sara took my hand.
"Mio. You're Ren's real wife."
"I'm not married."
"You just don't remember. Five years ago, before your memory was erased, you filled out a marriage registration form. The wife's section in the photo I sent you had been altered."
Sara operated the tablet.
In the restored wife's section of the marriage registration form, the name "Mio Fujisaki" was written in my handwriting.