Chapter 10: Blood Brothers
The roads were nearly empty.
Tokyo looked different at 2:35 in the morning.
The city never truly slept, but there were moments when it became quiet enough to reveal its age. The lights still shined. Cars still moved. Yet beneath all of it was an eerie stillness.
I kept my eyes on the road.
Occasionally I glanced at the rearview mirror.
My daughter sat in the backseat.
Seven years old.
Small.
Quiet.
Watching me.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She smiled.
"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine."
Then her smile faded slightly.
"But are you sure you want to do this?"
I already knew what she meant.
"This isn't you."
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
"I know."
The words came out quieter than I intended.
"But even so... this is my responsibility now."
Ahead of me, flashing lights illuminated the darkness.
Police vehicles.
Roadblocks.
Officers.
I slowed the car and rolled to a stop.
One of the officers approached.
"Sir, what are you doing out here?" he asked. "It's 2:35 in the morning. There's a school zone ahead."
"The National Institute for Future Leaders?"
The officer nodded.
"Could I see your license and registration?"
I handed them over.
He studied the documents for a moment.
Then he looked back at me.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fumiatsu."
His tone was casual.
Almost friendly.
"What brings you here? You're thirty-one years old. Got a wife? Kids? Someone you're visiting?"
I ignored the question.
"I'm here to see an old friend."
The officer raised an eyebrow.
"Who?"
"Toshiro Sobu."
The name tasted bitter.
"It's been a long time since we've seen each other."
The officer glanced inside the vehicle.
Only briefly.
Then he smiled.
"Traveling alone this late at night sounds lonely."
"I'll be fine."
After a moment he stepped aside.
The road opened.
I drove forward.
Several minutes passed before I spoke again.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
My daughter frowned.
"You're lying."
I sighed.
"You hate Toshiro Sobu."
"Close."
I reached into the passenger seat and grabbed a folder.
"But not quite."
The folder was old.
Worn.
Filled with reports, testimonies, photographs, and names.
Too many names.
"I don't hate Toshiro Sobu."
I stared at the road.
"I hate the man pretending to be him."
Silence filled the car.
Then I continued.
"In 1993, a Japanese researcher became obsessed with an idea."
My voice sounded distant.
Even to me.
"Eiji Fushimiya wanted to create a superhuman."
I paused.
"This man wanted something different."
"A strategist."
"The next Sun Tzu."
I almost laughed.
The arrogance of it all.
"The project was called the Neo Sun Tzu Project."
I looked out into the darkness.
"Then, in 1995, a child was born."
The memories felt ancient.
As though they belonged to someone else.
"They got everything they wanted."
"Intelligence."
"Adaptability."
"Potential."
I tightened my grip on the wheel.
"But they didn't create perfection."
"They created something else."
"A nihilistic monster."
My daughter remained silent.
Listening.
"In 1996, I was born."
"My parents abandoned me immediately."
"The project became my home."
I hated calling it that.
Home.
What a disgusting word.
"In 2004, an FBI agent uncovered the facility."
I smiled faintly.
"Mr. Yamada."
"He exposed enough to stop it."
"But not enough to start a war."
I understood his decision now.
Back then I didn't.
"He gave us names."
I stared forward.
"I was nine years old."
"He named me Fumiatsu."
The name felt strange even now.
Like a borrowed identity.
"The other boy already had a name."
I looked down.
"But that didn't matter."
"He was placed with a family."
"Renamed."
"Toshiro Sobu."
A dead child.
A stolen identity.
A replacement.
The perfect disguise.
"The real Toshiro Sobu died in 1995."
"He never got the chance to grow up."
"The boy took his place."
The car remained quiet.
"He used to talk to me."
I remembered that clearly.
The facility.
The white walls.
The endless tests.
"He was the only one who did."
My daughter smiled.
"You were friends?"
I almost laughed.
"No."
"We were never friends."
The truth was more complicated.
"He was simply the only person who acknowledged I existed."
I exhaled slowly.
"And somehow that was enough."
The memories kept coming.
Relentless.
"That same year his new family died in a car accident."
"A teenager named Taro Fushimiya saved him."
I frowned.
"The grandson of the man who started the superhuman project."
The irony was almost poetic.
Two failed experiments.
Two survivors.
Two disasters.
"The superhuman project failed."
"The Neo Sun Tzu Project failed."
I stared into the darkness ahead.
"But when those two worlds collided..."
My voice became quieter.
"...they created something much worse."
My daughter looked out the window.
Then she spoke.
"But that's not why you're doing this."
I froze.
Because she was right.
The project wasn't the real reason.
The corruption wasn't the real reason.
The victims weren't even the real reason anymore.
She already knew.
"Tell yourself the truth."
My breathing became uneven.
The memories returned.
Washington D.C.
2023.
The hotel.
The fire.
"Tetsuya and Kenzo were there."
I swallowed.
"They were chasing a serial killer."
"The Red Ghoul."
A monster.
A predator.
A man who hunted government officials for sport.
"There were U.S. Marshals inside the hotel."
"The Red Ghoul set the building on fire."
I could still smell the smoke.
Still hear the screaming.
"Almost everyone escaped."
I closed my eyes briefly.
"Almost."
My daughter looked at me.
"Tell me."
I didn't answer.
"Tell me who died."
My hands trembled.
"I don't know."
A lie.
A pathetic lie.
"Yes you do."
My throat tightened.
I slowly turned toward the backseat.
"It was you."
The words shattered something inside me.
"It was you, Hana."
Silence.
I looked at the seat.
Empty.
No child.
No smile.
No daughter.
There never had been.
I had been alone the entire drive.
The realization should have hurt.
Instead, it felt familiar.
I arrived at the NIFL shortly afterward.
The massive structure stood against the night sky.
Cold.
Silent.
Waiting.
I stepped out of the car.
The wind carried the scent of rain.
"In 2025, I found the Red Ghoul."
The memory surfaced immediately.
"I nearly killed him."
My jaw tightened.
"He told me Sobu supplied him."
"The equipment."
"The resources."
"The protection."
"He said the government was corrupt."
"He said the world needed fixing."
I laughed bitterly.
Every monster thinks they're a hero.
I spared him.
One of the worst decisions of my life.
Since then, I had spent years gathering evidence.
Preparing.
Waiting.
And now the final piece was moving.
"Sota should publish everything tomorrow."
The journalist had enough information now.
Enough to force reactions.
Enough to corner people.
Enough to force Sobu's hand.
I stared at the towering school.
The place where everything seemed connected.
The place where it all led.
The fog rolled across the ground.
And for a moment...
I saw her.
Hana.
Standing in the distance.
Smiling.
Watching.
I lowered my head.
The words escaped before I could stop them.
"I'll do better."
The wind carried them away.
"I promise."
When I looked up again—
She was gone.
Only the fog remained.