CHAPTER 2 The Trace That Shouldn't Exist
That name refused to disappear.
GENESIS.
Akira stared at the screen of his phone for several seconds longer than he should have.
One word. Seven letters.
And yet, for some reason, it felt like something far greater than the name of a research facility.
“Akira.” Sota’s voice came from beside him.
“Are you listening?” Akira blinked.
“Yeah.” “Then stop staring at your phone like you just found a message from the past.”
Akira slipped the phone into his pocket. “I don’t know Genesis.”
Sota looked at him. “I never said you did.”
“But your face says otherwise.” Sota sighed.
“I’m just saying you’ve looked weird all morning.” Akira didn’t answer.
He turned toward the warehouse. The police tape still stretched across the entrance.
Several officers had begun packing up their equipment. This case was supposed to be simple.
The victim had been found. The time of death had been estimated.
There was a chance the murder had taken place somewhere other than where the body was dumped. All they had to do was find the original location.
But a research facility that had been out of operation for years had suddenly appeared in the forensic report. That changed everything.
“Send me the full report.” Sota nodded.
“Already did.”
“Including the material data?” “Including everything.”
Akira started walking toward the car. “And don’t tell anyone about the name Genesis yet.”
Sota stopped. “Why?”
Akira didn’t answer right away. Because he didn’t know himself.
Something inside him said that name wasn’t meant to be touched carelessly. The feeling made no sense.
But ever since he was a child, Akira had learned one thing: Unexplainable instincts often surfaced because the brain recognized something before the conscious mind did.
“Because we don’t know what we’re dealing with yet,” he finally replied.
Sota nodded. “Okay.”
The Investigation Division office was much busier than usual. Phones rang.
Printers kept running. Officers moved in and out carrying files.
Beneath all those sounds, Akira sat at his computer, the screen filled with old documents. GENESIS RESEARCH FACILITY.
He typed in the words. The search results appeared.
Very few. Far too few.
He tried another variation. Genesis Research Project.
Nothing.
Genesis medical research. A few results appeared, but they all came from old articles unrelated to the case.
Akira opened one of them. A scientific paper from nearly twenty years ago.
Its title concerned the relationship between neurological activity and tissue regeneration. The author’s name was listed at the bottom.
Dr. Seiji Amamiya.
Akira read the name. There was no reaction.
There shouldn’t have been. Yet his fingers stopped above the mouse.
The name felt unfamiliar.
And yet...
unsettling.
He opened the author’s profile. A photo of a young man appeared on the screen.
His expression was calm. His gaze was sharp.
Akira stared at the photo for a long moment. Then the pain stabbed through his temple again.
Fast. Sharp.
This time, it came with a sound.
Beep... beep...
Akira closed the laptop. “Stop.”
Sota, sitting at the next desk, turned toward him. “Stop what?”
Akira rubbed his temple. “It’s nothing.”
Sota watched him for several seconds. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” Sota didn’t believe him.
But he didn’t press.
An hour later, they were in the Division Chief’s office. Tetsuya Hoshino stood in front of the window with his arms folded.
He was well past his youth, but his posture remained straight.
A murder report lay on the desk. The laboratory results sat beside it.
Tetsuya read them without saying a word.
“Genesis.”
He spoke the word slowly.
Akira immediately noticed the change in his expression. “Have you heard that name before?”
Tetsuya didn’t answer. Sota glanced at Akira.
Akira kept his eyes on his superior. Several seconds passed.
Then Tetsuya closed the file. “This case isn’t for you two.”
Akira furrowed his brow. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re looking for.” “Then give us some information.”
Tetsuya looked at him. “What information?”
“Genesis.”
Silence filled the room. Tetsuya finally walked over to the desk.
He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Genesis was a research facility that was destroyed years ago.”
“Why was it destroyed?” “No one knows the whole story.”
“You know part of it.” Tetsuya stared at Akira for a long time.
“I know enough to tell you that you should stop.” Akira didn’t blink.
“The victim had material that came from there.” “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“The same symbol was found too.” Tetsuya fell silent.
“And the name Genesis appeared in the forensic results.” “I know.”
“So?” Tetsuya sighed. “So let us handle that part.”
Akira stood. “If this case is connected to a murder, it’s my responsibility.”
Tetsuya looked at him. For an instant, something showed in the man’s eyes.
Not anger. Not irritation.
Fear.
“Akira.” His voice was much lower.
“Don’t open a door you won’t be able to close again.” Akira fell silent.
The sentence felt strange. Not like a warning from a superior.
More like something said by a person who had once seen what lay beyond that door.
Night came sooner than expected.
Akira was still at the office. His computer screen displayed an old map of the city.
There was one point he kept zooming in on. An abandoned industrial district.
A building there was listed as:
Genesis Research Facility — Site 01.
But when he tried to open the building data...
access denied.
RESTRICTED.
Akira tried again.
Denied.
One more time.
The same.
He leaned back in his chair. Then he heard a chair being pulled out behind him.
“If you keep staring at the screen like that, it’s not going to give up.” Akira turned around.
Sota stood there holding two packages of food. “I never said I was hungry.”
“I never said this was for you.” Sota set one package on Akira’s desk.
Akira opened it. “Thanks.”
They ate in silence for a while.
Then Sota said,
“I looked into Genesis.” Akira stopped.
“What did you find?” “Almost nothing.”
“How almost?” “As if someone deliberately erased it.”
Akira looked at him. “Exactly.”
Sota nodded. “I found one thing.”
He pulled out a tablet. An old photograph appeared.
A large building. White walls.
A circular logo with a line running across it. Akira felt his chest tighten again.
The photo stirred something in his mind. A door.
Someone carrying a child. A woman’s voice.
“Don’t look back.”
Akira dropped his chopsticks. Sota immediately looked at him.
“Akira?”
He stood up too quickly. His chair scraped backward.
“Breathe...”
Akira gripped the desk. The room spun.
Then...
a little girl’s voice rang out clearly.
“When we get out...” Akira froze.
“Let’s go find the sky, okay?”
One second. Two seconds.
Then everything vanished.
Akira closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, Sota was still standing in front of him.
“Did you hear something?” Akira shook his head.
“No.” He stared at the photo on the tablet.
That logo.
Genesis.
For some reason... he felt like he had seen it before.
Not on the internet. Not in a book.
But from very close up.
As if once... that logo had been part of his world.
And for the first time, Akira began asking himself:
If Genesis truly had nothing to do with him... why did his body seem to remember it?
It was late at night when Akira finally left the office. Sota had already gone home after promising to search through the old police archives from there.
Akira didn’t head straight to his apartment. He sat in the car parked beneath the building for nearly ten minutes, without starting the engine.
The photo of Genesis was still saved on his phone.
He opened it again. The white building. The tall windows.
The circular logo with a single line running across it.
There was nothing special about it.
Yet his body kept reacting in ways he couldn’t explain. His temple throbbed. His chest felt heavy.
And most disturbing of all,
he had the strange feeling that if he stared at the photo too long, he would remember something he was never supposed to know.
Akira finally turned off the screen.
“Tomorrow.” He started the engine.
“Tomorrow, I’ll find out.”
11:48 p.m. The apartment was quiet again.
Akira put his keys in the same place as that morning.
He took off his jacket. Hung it up.
Unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt. Routine.
Small things that always fell into perfect order. But something was different that night.
He didn’t feel tired. His thoughts were too full.
Akira opened his laptop at the dining table. One last search.
Seiji Amamiya. The results were the same as before.
Scientist. Researcher.
Several old publications. No news of his death.
No official record of his current whereabouts. He opened an article containing an old interview.
A much younger Seiji appeared on the screen.
“Human beings don’t stop evolving just because we’re afraid of the consequences.”
Akira read the sentence twice.
There was something about the voice behind those words. Not the content of the sentence.
But the way it felt. Akira closed the laptop.
Then he turned off the lights.
That night, for the first time in years,
Akira dreamed. He stood in a white corridor.
There was no one there. The ceiling lights flickered.
Once. Twice. Three times.
In the distance, a monitor beeped.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Akira walked.
The farther he went, the smaller his body seemed to become. His hands...
small. Too small.
He saw his reflection in the glass wall. A little boy.
Black hair. White clothes.
A number was printed on his chest.
A-001.
Akira tried to touch it. But before his fingers reached the glass,
a small hand appeared on the other side. A little girl stood behind the glass.
Black hair. Familiar eyes.
She smiled. “Akira.”
Akira froze. “Who are you?”
The girl gave a quiet laugh. “You forgot again.”
“I don’t know you.” Her smile slowly faded.
Then...
the alarm went off. The lights turned red.
Someone shouted from the end of the corridor.
“Amamiya! Stop the procedure!”
The girl pressed her palm against the glass.
Akira did the same. Only a few inches separated them.
But before they could touch each other,
a man’s voice rang out. “Akira.”
Akira turned. A man stood at the end of the corridor.
His face was hidden. But his voice... felt incredibly close.
“You have to forget her.”
Akira woke up. His breathing came in ragged gasps.
The room was dark. The digital clock read 3:12 a.m.
His heart was beating too fast. His hands trembled.
He stared at both his palms. There was nothing there.
Yet the sensation of cold glass still lingered at his fingertips. Akira sat on the edge of the bed.
“Reina...” The name slipped out on its own.
He fell silent. Why had he said that name?
Who was Reina? He didn’t know anyone named Reina.
At least... no one he remembered.
The next morning, Akira arrived at the office early. Sota was already there.
The moment he saw Akira’s face, he raised an eyebrow.
“You didn’t sleep?” “Not much.”
“Figured.” Akira set down his bag.
“Any developments?” Sota slid the tablet toward him.
“There is.” Akira looked at the screen.
“Our victim had access to a biotech company.” “Name?”
“Nexus Biomed.” Akira read through the document.
The company had been established only about eight years ago. There was no direct connection to Genesis.
But one of its scientific directors... had once been a researcher at Genesis.
The name was clearly listed. Dr. Haruki Mizuno.
Akira looked up. “He’s still alive?”
“Yeah.” “Address?”
Sota handed him a card. “Already got it.”
Akira slipped the card into his pocket. “We’ll see him.”
Meanwhile, at the city forensic hospital... Reina Aizawa stood in front of a screen displaying the examination results.
The sample from the victim’s fingernails had been analyzed. The synthetic material had an unusual composition.
She opened the old database. There was no match.
Then she tried searching through the research archives. One result appeared.
Reina frowned. GENESIS — RESTRICTED ARCHIVE
She opened the file.
Access denied.
Reina tried using her professional credentials.
Still denied.
She stared at the screen. Something felt strange.
Not because of the name Genesis. But because of the sudden sense of familiarity.
As if she had seen that logo before. Somewhere, sometime.
Her hand unconsciously touched the small pendant around her neck. A piece of jewelry she had worn ever since childhood.
Her mother had once told her that the pendant was the one thing she must never take off. Reina had never understood why.
The door to the forensic room opened. A technician stepped inside.
“Dr. Aizawa.” Reina turned.
“What is it?” “Detective Kisaragi is here.”
Her hand stopped above the keyboard. “Kisaragi?”
“He wants to discuss the examination results.” Reina nodded.
“Send him in.” A few seconds later...
the door opened. Akira stood there.
They looked at each other.
Strange.
There was no reason for Reina’s heart to beat faster. No reason for Akira to feel as if he had seen those eyes before.
And yet they both experienced the same thing. A faint feeling.
An echo from a past they didn’t possess. Akira opened his mouth.
“Dr. Aizawa.” Reina nodded.
“Detective Kisaragi.” Silence.
Then, without realizing it, Reina said, “Akira.”
Akira froze. Reina herself looked startled.
“...Sorry.” “What?”
“I don’t know why I called you that.” Akira stared at her.
For a fraction of a second, an image appeared in his mind. A paper crane.
A small palm behind glass. And a smiling girl.
Then another voice. Very distant. Very faint.
“When we get out...”
Akira closed his eyes. When he opened them again,
Reina was still standing in front of him.
A stranger. A forensic pathologist.
Reina Aizawa.
And yet, somehow... for the first time since he had opened his eyes in this world,
Akira felt that perhaps there was someone who had known him before he had even had the chance to know who he was.
And between them...
there was a past deliberately made so they would never remember it.