Morofushi Akihiko’s eyes snapped open.
Again.
His peripheral vision caught the still-uncleaned splatters of blood across the room. Time seemed to stretch out several times over in that moment, his mind unable to form coherent thoughts.
Morofushi Akihiko remained frozen in that position, lying stiffly on the floor. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed—maybe only a few seconds, maybe an entire day.
Only after his mind regained control of his body, allowing him to move his limbs, did he slowly raise his hand. With his right hand, now covered in a layer of dried blood, he touched the spot on his neck.
The wound had stopped bleeding.
Morofushi Akihiko’s breathing was shallow and quiet, as if it might vanish in the next instant. The gruesome state of the room made it unbearable to look at directly. He lay there quietly for a while longer before slowly pushing himself up from the floor.
This time, the fruit knife on the ground and the bloodstains covering it fully entered his view.
“Ah…” Morofushi Akihiko let out a slow, wordless sigh. His voice was rough and hoarse, thick with a heavy nasal tone. Anyone hearing it would suspect he had a severe cold.
Yet, despite everything, he had indeed made a sound.
“Failed…?” he uttered in that same disjointed, halting voice.
But the problem was—according to common sense, a throat with a severed windpipe shouldn’t be able to form words or produce sound again, right?
Even without a mirror, he could imagine the wretched state he was in now. Never mind the blood clinging to his body and hair—just dealing with the mess in the entire room would be a considerable hassle.
Morofushi Akihiko glanced at the door. It hadn’t been opened from the outside, so no one had likely barged into his room and discovered his condition yet.
The room, though curtained, was still bright. The curtains weren’t particularly effective at blocking light, so it must still be daytime.
After the shooting course came the weekend break. If it were already Monday, Instructor Onizuka, having noticed his absence from morning training and classes, would have come looking for him by now. So it was probably still within the weekend timeframe. He wasn’t sure whether he’d been unconscious for one day or two.
Well, he’d wait until nightfall. Although many of his classmates would choose to apply to leave campus over the weekend, quite a few would also opt to stay within the police academy. Going out covered in blood in broad daylight would be far too alarming.
For the sake of the instructors’ mental well-being, it was better not to do that.
He’d deal with the room issue after dark.
Thanks to the uniquely Japanese sense of distance, private spaces like dorm rooms were generally not entered casually by others, so he had time to clean up the mess here.
Morofushi Akihiko felt an unusual weariness, perhaps a lingering effect of excessive blood loss.
He wasn’t particularly surprised by this failed suicide attempt. Even before acting, he’d been somewhat curious about how it might fail. As for success… well, if he’d succeeded, he wouldn’t need to think about anything anymore.
The success rate of death by wrist-cutting was too low, and the sharpness and hardness of a fruit knife weren’t necessarily enough to penetrate the sternum—too many variables. That was why he’d chosen to target his neck.
Suicide was merely a means, not something he actually enjoyed doing.
This failure had essentially given him the answer. Unless he was interested in performing "Scotch's 365 Suicide Acts" in front of the Soshiki to satisfy a strong desire for performance, any further actions would be meaningless.
His mind unwilling to continue thinking, Morofushi Akihiko closed his eyes. After confirming the wound had stopped bleeding, he had no intention of bandaging it. Even though the dried, sticky bloodstains on his body made him extremely uncomfortable, he lacked the energy to stand up and change clothes.
It wasn’t until the sky outside gradually darkened that Morofushi Akihiko stood up again. Feeling the long-dried bloodstains, which would crumble into powder with the slightest movement, rubbing against his skin, he belatedly felt discomfort.
He wasn’t particularly fastidious, but this sensation was truly unbearable.
Morofushi Akihiko changed his clothes, briefly wiped the bloodstains from his neck and hands with a wet wipe, put on a baseball cap, and headed out. Relying on years of concealment experience, he walked all the way to the bathroom without being noticed.
There was no hot water at this hour, so Morofushi Akihiko took a quick cold shower. He then went to the infirmary, picked the lock, took out some bandages, and wrapped a layer around his neck. Although the wound had stopped bleeding, it didn’t mean it was completely healed. At least there seemed to be some science behind the healing process.
After tending to himself, Morofushi Akihiko skillfully went to the storage room to borrow a bucket, rags, and cleaning supplies. He then returned to his dorm room with the cleaning tools.
"This looks like a big project," Morofushi Akihiko muttered softly, placing the bucket down and standing at the now relocked and closed door, surveying the mess inside with some resignation.
The soundproofing in the police academy dorms wasn’t great, so Morofushi Akihiko tried to keep his movements as quiet as possible.
The cleaning supplies could only lighten the bloodstains on the walls, so he’d likely need to prepare some paint materials to cover them with a fresh coat.
The bloodstains on the bedsheet were easier to handle, and the wooden floor was non-absorbent. With some cleaning solution and a quick mopping, it was clean again.
Morofushi Akihiko had ample experience in handling such situations. After making some adjustments to suit the circumstances, he restored the room to nearly its original state.
At least at first glance, there were no obvious issues. Given that no one would enter his room, even if someone knocked and peeked inside from the doorway, they wouldn’t notice anything amiss.
Considering his current social standing at the police academy, no one would be entering his room.
After finishing, Morofushi Akihiko opened the window to air out the room and sniffed himself—perhaps from prolonged exposure to cleaning supplies, he felt his sense of smell was temporarily impaired.
Morofushi Akihiko glanced at the sky and the time, finding he still had some time to spare. He then gathered his police academy uniform and headed to the bathroom again.
This time, his movements were noticeably slower, lacking the earlier urgency driven solely by efficiency.
So, when he finished showering and returned to the dorm with slightly damp hair, he happened to run into a few classmates yawning as they headed to wash up.
"Huh? You’re up early today, Morofushi," Ueno stopped, yawning as he spoke to Morofushi Akihiko, who was walking back.
"Yeah, the weather’s nice today," Morofushi Akihiko smiled, also stopping in place.
Ueno was the unfortunate classmate who had previously taken the initiative to greet him, only to nearly have his hand broken in response.
"Is that so?" Ueno glanced at the still-dim sky, sounding a bit surprised. "You can read the weather too?"
"Weather forecast," Morofushi Akihiko tilted his head slightly and replied.
"Oh… oh!" Ueno's sleep-addled brain finally caught up, realizing he had asked a rather odd question.
Ueno let out an awkward laugh and suddenly remarked, "So you do have a sense of humor, Morofushi."
Morofushi Akihiko smiled but said nothing.
To call Morofushi Akihiko a cold person would be to overlook the gentle, soft smile on his face. To say he was easy to get along with… well, that wasn't wrong either.
But despite being friendly and approachable, there was still an inexplicable sense of distance about him.
And sometimes, he even gave off a strange kind of pressure. Ueno racked his brain and finally came to a conclusion.
It was probably the incident from two days ago, when Morofushi nearly crushed his wrist, that had left him with lingering trauma!
But Morofushi was actually a good person! Ueno convinced himself, then, clutching his toiletries, noticed a detail he had overlooked until now: "Speaking of which, your voice sounds a bit nasal. Do you have a cold?"
"I forgot to close the window last night before sleeping," Morofushi Akihiko replied, his nasal tone already much lighter than the day before.
"Should you take the day off, then?" Ueno asked with concern.
"Yes, I was just planning to go see Instructor Onizuka," Morofushi Akihiko answered.
"Oh!" Ueno wasn't sure how to respond, so he politely said, "Well, get some rest, Morofushi!"
"Thank you," Morofushi Akihiko nodded to Ueno and, just as he had said, turned to go find Instructor Onizuka.
The instructors' waking hours were similar to those of the police academy students, sometimes even earlier. Before morning assembly, instructors usually made a trip to their offices.
So Morofushi Akihiko wasn't surprised to see Instructor Onizuka just about to leave.
"Morofushi?" The instructor's office was in the opposite direction from the dormitories and training grounds—there was no reason for anyone to pass by this way. Instructor Onizuka asked in confusion, "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you, Instructor," Morofushi Akihiko stood before Instructor Onizuka.
He did not lower his gaze but instead met the instructor's eyes earnestly. Those usually gentle, upturned cat-like eyes now appeared unusually sharp, carrying a rare sense of aggression.
"I've thought about this for a long time, Instructor Onizuka," Morofushi Akihiko's smile faded as he spoke calmly and seriously to the instructor before him. "I may not be suited to become a police officer."
At that moment, a certain evaluation echoed in Instructor Onizuka's ears.
["This time, you've really encountered some exceptionally outstanding students, Instructor Onizuka."]
"Huh?" Instructor Onizuka's eyes widened in shock. "What did you say?"
Instructor Onizuka could hardly believe it. He glanced suspiciously at the sky, wondering if the sun had risen from the west today.
What had he just heard? He must have misheard, right?
But Morofushi Akihiko gave him no time to hesitate, nor any room for reconsideration, stating plainly, "I am applying to withdraw from the academy, Instructor Onizuka."
Morofushi Akihiko was not joking; he was serious.
When unable to end his own life, staying at the police academy would only expose more of what he wished to keep hidden. If death was not an option, then leaving this environment would have to suffice.
Morofushi Akihiko, Gong'an undercover agent, Scotch.
Regardless of which identity he assumed, he was not one to hesitate or second-guess himself. Once a decision was made, there was no turning back.
This was already the second time he had uttered the words, "I won't be a police officer." Morofushi Akihiko let out a soft sigh and returned to his dormitory to begin packing his belongings.
Just as he had his application ready, he received a text message from an unknown number.
【Regarding your actions today, I need an explanation.】
【Scotch.】
Author's Note:
After taking the civil service exam, he decided to drop out—the most unbelievable episode for a typical Chinese person.jpg
What? You say he wouldn't have passed the political vetting anyway? Well, that settles it.
P.S.: Do not imitate dangerous behavior!