“Thirty-Year-Old Male Doctor at Famous Hospital—Sexual Assault Allegation?”
That evening, the headline exploded across the front page of a Tokyo tabloid.
Although the doctor’s name was withheld, the article was meticulous—naming the hospital, the department, even describing the man’s appearance and career history in vivid detail. Among those who knew the institution, it took only moments for the whispers to spread.
It’s Asakura.
The impact was immediate.
By nightfall, the entrance to Asakura’s apartment building was swarming with people—weekly magazine reporters, sports newspaper photographers, television crews from daytime talk shows, and curious onlookers drawn by scandal.
Escorted by detectives in dark suits, Asakura walked through the chaos with his head lowered. Camera flashes burst like fireworks. Shouted questions flew at him like stones.
“Doctor Asakura, is it true?”
“Why aren’t you running?”
“The victim is crying—what do you have to say?”
He said nothing.
Without a word, Asakura climbed into the police car, the door shutting behind him with a dull, final thud.
Interrogation
The interview room was bare—just a plain table, two chairs, and a detective with eyes sharp enough to cut.
Asakura struggled to maintain his composure, though inside his thoughts churned violently.
“I have absolutely no memory of anything like this,” he said.
He repeated it again and again.
But the detective said nothing. Instead, he laid several photographs across the table and pressed play on a voice recorder.
A woman’s voice filled the room—thin, trembling, broken by sobs—as she claimed she had been assaulted by Asakura.
“We have this much evidence,” the detective said coolly.
“Isn’t it time you stopped pretending?”
His gaze pierced Asakura like a blade.
At that moment—
Click.
The door handle turned. Another detective was about to enter.
Just before the door opened, Asakura finally spoke.
“…All right,” he said heavily.
“I’ll tell you everything. Honestly.”
Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto him.
The Truth
“A few days ago,” Asakura began, “the head of research at Pharma invited me out. He said it was just a chance to ‘build rapport.’ We went to a bar in the city. I drank—but after that, I remember nothing.”
He took a slow breath.
“When I woke up, I was alone in a bed, in an apartment I didn’t recognize. I was confused, still trying to understand where I was, when suddenly a man and a woman entered the room.”
The detectives listened in silence.
“The woman claimed I had assaulted her. She showed bruises on the inside of her arms—then said there were more on other parts of her body. They showed me photos of her bruises… and photos of a man sleeping in that bed. His face wasn’t visible—but it was clearly meant to be me.”
Asakura lowered his head.
“I swear, I have no memory of doing anything. None. But the man threatened me. He said, ‘If you don’t cooperate, these photos go public.’”
Pens scratched quietly across notebooks.
“When I left the room, I believe they installed some kind of GPS or tracking app on my phone. I was blindfolded, put into a car. I don’t know where we drove. When the blindfold was removed, I was at my workplace—St. Louis International Hospital. In the pathology specimen room.”
One of the detectives spoke softly.
“So they were using GPS to monitor you… to make sure you didn’t act on your own?”
Asakura nodded.
“I handed over a dummy specimen I had prepared in advance from the freezer. The man said only one thing—‘This is over.’ Then he returned my phone and left.”
GPS
The detective was silent for several seconds.
“…Doctor Asakura. May we examine your smartphone?”
Asakura nodded and handed it over without hesitation.
A quiet command was given. Analysis began immediately.
About ten minutes later, another detective rushed into the room and whispered something into the lead investigator’s ear.
The man’s expression changed.
“Doctor Asakura,” he said gently,
“we’ve analyzed the GPS data from your phone. We’ve identified the apartment where you stayed that night.”
Asakura held his breath.
“That apartment is registered under the name of Washio—the development director at Globear Pharma.”
Asakura froze.
The detective continued.
“It appears you were deliberately framed. At this stage, we believe the sexual assault report was very likely false. And what’s more—this seems closely connected to the shooting incident that occurred early this morning at Globear Pharma’s research facility.”
The detective bowed his head slightly.
“We will also be questioning Mr. Takizawa from Globear Pharma, as well as Dr. Mishima, your subordinate. Thank you for your cooperation today. You are free to go.”
A Larger Threat
Asakura remained seated, silent.
After a moment, he stood slowly.
“…This is connected to the clinical trial we were involved in,” he said quietly.
“Phase III of LX-301.”
The room tensed.
“I won’t claim I made no mistakes. But this cannot be ignored. The ethics of medical research—and the safety of a drug that affects countless lives—are now at risk.”
For a brief instant, the interrogation room fell into a chilling silence, as if the air itself had frozen.
