Souvenir - Chapter 9.1
Beyond the suburban residential area of New York State, past a vast country club, there is an herb garden. A small research facility nearby uses the naturally growing plants from the garden to develop and sell cosmetics and supplements. Around this facility, a small residential area houses the employees and their families. The owner of this research facility is Ou.
“Two years… huh.”
“Huh? What? Our wedding anniversary is still two months away, isn’t it?”
It was a weekday morning. I had woken up later than usual and was spending some time in bed with my wife. I had remote work scheduled for the afternoon.
“Ah, yeah… you’re right.”
I had muttered those words unconsciously. Maybe the stress of work was starting to get to me, even though I was getting used to it. I ran my hand through my hair—originally brown but dyed blond only on the surface, leaving the underside dark—and sat up.
Tanaka Ken was a researcher at this facility, approaching his second year of marriage. His wife, Sako, lay beside him, casually browsing her phone.
“Where are you going?”
“Just to wash my face. Then I’ll be working in my room.”
“Alright, see you later.”
As Ken washed his face, he noticed that his contact lenses had shifted slightly. It had been almost two years since he started wearing them. Keeping them in all day often caused conjunctivitis, so he always carried special eye drops with him. He removed the lenses to adjust them.
His natural eye color was a pale green. His eyesight was perfect. The contacts were purely cosmetic.
His ophthalmologist had advised him to spend some time without lenses to protect his eyes. So whenever he wasn’t wearing them, he always put on dark sunglasses that matched the colored contacts.
He had told his wife that he had an eye condition and that using a dark-lensed pair of glasses while working on the computer was necessary to prevent it from worsening.
Ken entered his room, locked the door, and sat in front of his computer.
His work phone vibrated softly.
“Suspicious vehicle detected. The subject is not affiliated with the facility.”
On the screen, surveillance footage showed a black sedan slowly circling the perimeter of the research facility.
“Strange…”
Running the license plate through the system, he found no registered information.
“A new target? Or just a nosy onlooker?”
His instincts as an investigator told him this was no coincidence.
Several surveillance feeds from cameras installed around the research facility appeared on the screen.
Yes—Ken was actually an FBI agent.
He had infiltrated the research facility as part of an undercover investigation.
For years, a series of kidnappings and disappearances had been occurring in this area. Similar cases had surfaced across multiple states, and during the investigation, this facility had come up as a potential link.
After meticulous preparation, he successfully infiltrated the facility. It had been a year and eight months since then.
Nearly two years ago, he met his wife, a researcher at the facility. Their marriage was nothing more than a cover for his mission.
Sako had no idea he was an FBI agent, nor did she suspect him. She truly loved him.
But for Ken, everything was an act for the sake of the investigation. And that truth weighed heavily on him.
Balancing the life of a devoted husband while maintaining his role as a dedicated investigator created moments of internal conflict.
On the surface, he played the role of an ordinary husband, welcomed warmly by his neighbors and colleagues.
But deep down, he remained a focused investigator, driven by his mission.
One rainy evening, long after the house had fallen silent, Ken quietly made his way to his study.
The room was filled with carefully compiled reports, notes, and evidence related to his mission.
Beyond the window, in the distance, the silhouette of the research facility loomed.
The faint blue glow of its lights seemed almost like a silent warning of the dangers lurking within.
Taking a deep breath, he sat down at his desk and began reviewing the latest surveillance footage, along with fragmented information from an internal whistleblower.
He muttered under his breath.
On the screen, a group of people was unloading supplies at the research facility in the dead of night. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, something different from their usual routines.
Carefully cross-referencing the information he had gathered so far, he pondered whether these activities might be a crucial clue to the rumored brainwashing experiments taking place inside the facility.
The next morning, he returned to his daily routine as an employee.
Their living room, furnished with simple yet tasteful decor, felt like an untouched sanctuary of peace. His wife blended seamlessly into this fabricated domestic life, preparing breakfast as usual.
The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, accompanied by soft background music.
As she glanced at him, she spoke with concern.
“Good morning. You didn’t seem to sleep well last night. Are you okay?”
He forced a small smile, though the images from last night’s surveillance still lingered in his mind.
“Good morning. I was just lost in thought. Your miso soup is amazing, by the way.”
Her face brightened with a smile.
“I’m glad you like it. Let’s do our best today, okay?” she responded cheerfully.
After breakfast, he got ready to leave.
As he prepared to step outside into the real world, fragments of information from the previous night replayed vividly in his mind—the scattered puzzle pieces of a dark experiment unfolding behind the facility’s walls.
But on the surface, he had to maintain the role of an ordinary citizen.
Hoping to clear his thoughts, he decided to take a detour to the neighborhood park.
The park was mostly empty at this hour. It was usually filled with the children of employees from the research facility, but for now, it was eerily quiet.
He sat on a bench with a takeout coffee in hand, listening to the rustling of the trees.
“Am I really doing the right thing? In this fabricated life, how much must I sacrifice to uncover the truth?”