The Probability I Can Kill My Wife Without Being Found Out

The probability that i will not be found out about killing my wife

“0.061％”

My morning always begins with booting up my glasses-shaped PC and checking a certain future prediction.

"Well, I guess that's obvious."

I haven't seen this number go above 1% lately.

"The probability of killing my wife without being found out."

That is the future prediction condition I set.

It has already been 15 years since it became possible to easily make simple future predictions on a home computer by entering conditions. Like many others using it for various purposes, I, too, made use of it without exception.

My marriage to my wife was what is commonly known as a political marriage. Her father—now my father-in-law—forced the political marriage on me in exchange for providing financial support to the company run by my grandfather. The only reason he chose me, an ordinary man with no particularly outstanding abilities, was that she had taken a liking to my photo, despite never having met me.

"I don't think I will be able to love you, but if you're fine with that..."

I said that to her ten years ago. And then, we got married.

It wasn’t as if I had a lover. It wasn’t as if she was unattractive. My grandfather’s company was saved from collapse, and I became the next president of my father-in-law’s company. Everything was perfect. At least, from society’s perspective, from a general standpoint, that’s how it would seem.

But I couldn’t see it that way.

Perhaps because the thought of being bought with money weighed heavily on me, I quietly resented her.

If I didn’t like it, I could have just shaken my head and refused. But given the situation, I didn’t have that option. My grandfather’s company was on the brink of collapse, with only a few days left. And if bankruptcy became a reality, I was certain that my stubborn, responsibility-driven grandfather wouldn’t hesitate to trade his life for money.

When I was told that I could save both his life and an enormous amount of debt simply by agreeing, I had no choice but to accept it.

"I might kill you and take all the vast wealth you’re set to inherit. Would you still be okay with that?"

Those were the words I carelessly said to her when we had just gotten married. She looked surprised for a moment, then smiled and nodded.

"That’s fine. I just have to make you fall for me before that happens, don’t I?"

She spoke challengingly, appearing somewhat like a brave warrior, and for a moment, I was taken aback.

That very same day, I entered "The probability of killing my wife without getting caught" into my glasses-shaped PC. 

After answering a few simple questions, the wearable device accurately assessed the situation and calculated the probability.

The first number that appeared was "38.235%."

I was frozen in shock at the unexpectedly high figure. Nearly 40%?! I thought, but then I remembered—starting tomorrow, my wife was going on a trip.

A trip she would be taking alone.

Making it seem like she had gone on a trip and then killing her... that might actually be a viable option.

"Should I pretend you went on a trip and kill you instead? Apparently, there’s about a 40% chance of success."

"I see. Do your best. What kind of souvenir should I get?"

The way she said it so nonchalantly amused me.

"Do you think I won't be able to kill you?" I asked.

"No," she replied with resolute eyes. "If I end up dead, it just means I didn’t put enough effort into stopping you."

After seeing her off, I made another future prediction.

"The probability that I will love my wife six months from now."

"0.001%."

That made sense, and I accepted it without question.

I might find her amusing, but the truth remained—I didn’t have any particularly positive feelings toward her.

And I doubted that would change in just six months.

A few days later, when she returned from her trip, I told her about it.

I was a little excited, looking forward to her reaction.

But all she said was, "I see."

Honestly, I felt let down.

"I thought you didn’t dislike me."

Since she had chosen me as her husband, I assumed that, even if she didn’t love me, she at least had some positive feelings toward me.

But she simply responded indifferently, as if she didn’t care at all.

I wasn’t expecting her to cry, but I had at least wanted to see her frustrated.

"...May I ask how you plan to kill me next?"

"Huh?"

"Before I left for my trip, you said, ‘Should I pretend you went on a trip and kill you instead?’ I was waiting, you know. If you had come, it surely would have been a lovely honeymoon."

"Do you want to be killed?"

"If possible, I’d rather be loved by you."

I thought she was an incomprehensible woman.

Right in front of her, I turned on my glasses-shaped PC and ran another future prediction.

"The probability of killing my wife without getting caught."

"12.253%."

One in ten times, I could get away with it.

That was a pretty high probability.

If it were just the two of us alone at night in our room, I supposed it would hover around this number. I kept that in mind.

"Right now, it's about 12%. I guess I'll pass. If I were to kill you, I'd make it look like you never returned from your trip and dump your body somewhere near the road. People would assume you were attacked by a random assailant."

"In that case, the park nearby would be better. That place is notorious for suspicious people lurking around."

"…I have no idea what you're thinking."

"I'm simply doing everything I can to be loved by you."

I shot her a sharp look, but she merely smiled faintly and handed me a wrapped box, saying it was a souvenir.

"I'm throwing this away."

"It belongs to you now, so do as you please."

Wanting to get back at her somehow, I forcefully tossed the box into the trash can.

Then, feeling smug, I looked at her—only to regret it a moment later.

She gazed at the discarded box with slightly furrowed brows, a look of sadness in her eyes.

Not wanting to see that expression, I hastily retreated to the room assigned to me.

Although we were married, of course, we had separate rooms.

I had no intention of ever touching her, and I assumed she felt the same way about me.

Half a year passed in this bleak routine.

Every morning, before even getting out of bed, I checked the "Probability of Killing My Wife Without Getting Caught."

Then, I got up, got dressed, and headed to the living room.

"It was 15% this morning."

"Oh, then I suppose I can relax today?"

"Who knows? I might have poisoned your coffee."

"Even though I just brewed it?"

"I could have laced it yesterday."

"Then let’s die together. Here, yours."

"Much obliged."

Of course, there was no poison. I took the cup and sat down.

Then, I ate the breakfast she had prepared—our usual routine.

Some days, we barely spoke beyond this.

Yet, oddly enough, I was beginning to find a certain comfort in it.

I liked how we didn’t interfere in each other’s lives.

Having breakfast and dinner appear before me without effort was also appealing.

But that was something different from love.

If someone asked, "Do you love her?" the answer would still be a definite NO.

And so, two years passed.

As a married couple, we might have been broken, but as a family, I felt we were finally functioning.

Then, out of nowhere, she told me she wanted to go on a date.

"I don't want to go."

"But I do. Let’s go to the aquarium today!"

"I don’t love you. I don’t even like you."

"But I love you."

And so what? I thought.

Why did she think we could suddenly start acting like a normal couple?

Annoyed, I silently stared at her.

She simply smiled, calm and composed.

"Are you sure? Are you really going to waste this chance?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If you accept my invitation now, you might be able to kill me."

"I don’t just want to kill you—I want to do it without getting caught. If I get arrested, it’s meaningless."

"Exactly! Do you remember this morning’s probability?"

"It was… around 5.7%?"

"Yes, isn't it going down recently? Is that okay with you? If you go out with me, the probability might increase somewhere! If I get stabbed in the back in a crowd, and there is no element to confirm that you are the culprit, you won’t be caught. But for that, we need to go to a crowd."

"You seem happy talking about killing you."

"I want to be in a cheerful mood today. Don't worry, I’ll leave my back to you."

"To be stabbed?"

"Oh, you could hug me if you want."

I made a smile, following her laughter. In the end, I was more or less pushed into it, and we went on our first date. It had been almost three years since we got married.

If I had to choose whether I had fun or not, I would definitely say I had fun. It was the first time in a while that I went to an aquarium, and I probably acted more excited than my age would suggest. I didn’t even have the time to check the probability, my heart was so full of excitement that day. I remember feeling grateful for her, who was smiling next to me, at that moment.

By evening, we decided to have dinner at home as usual. Looking over the table filled with my favorite dishes, I finally looked at the calendar.

"My birthday?"

"Oh, you forgot. I was planning to celebrate it every year, though."

Looking back, I think there was a day once a year when there was a slightly more luxurious spread of my favorite dishes. I didn't think much of it at the time, wondering what kind of whim it was, but now I realize it was because it was my birthday.

"I won't say thank you."

"You already said it, so that’s enough."

"I have no intention of celebrating your birthday."

"It’s just something I wanted to do, so don’t worry about it."

"…"

"Thank you for being born."

"You're welcome."

Now that I think about it, I realize it was just embarrassment, but at the time, I was confused and only thought, "Is this woman okay?"

After that, my attitude didn’t change, and neither did hers.

But we started going out together about once a month.

I, to kill her. She, to go on a date with me.

If you were to ask me if I really intended to kill her, I can only answer that I didn’t from the start.

It’s true that I didn’t have good feelings for her, and there were times when I thought it would be better if she were dead, but the risk of killing her was too high, something a coward like me couldn’t consider as an option.

It just happened to be the perfect topic for conversation with her, who was now my wife.

She probably knew that. She knew, and would bring it up in conversation. And with all of that understood, I would play along with her.

Why? I had a vague idea, but I quickly closed the lid on it. After all, it’s too late now.

Two more years passed, and we had been married for five years.

"Today was 2.564%. Worst. Too low."

"I'm relieved that my peace will likely continue."

"You never change. You're the embodiment of peace."

"Not really. The fish today got overcooked, it's completely burnt."

"Mine seems fine."

"Yours was hurriedly re-cooked. Look, it's all burnt."

She said this while pointing at her fish with a wry smile. I swapped her plate with mine and started eating breakfast.

"Are you sure? Yours is all burnt."

"Are you sure you’re okay with that? I might have put poison on that plate."

"If it’s poison from you, I’d like to try it."

"Well then, go ahead."

"Bon appétit."

As I ate breakfast as usual, I glanced at the clock. Besides the time, the date was also displayed.

Five years had passed.

Honestly, I thought it might be time.

As I sat across from her eating breakfast, I ran the usual future prediction. I sighed as I looked at the numbers reflected in the lenses of my glasses.

'1.524%'

As expected. Low. The number I told her earlier was one percent higher than this. The probability I saw this morning was '1.564%.'

By the way, the additional 1% was just a petty act of stubbornness.

I had once talked to a friend who was knowledgeable about this future prediction system, telling him about my predictions and our marriage. I was concerned about the steadily decreasing probability in these future predictions.

He had looked at me in disbelief and then kindly explained.

According to him, the 'probability of not being caught if you kill your wife' is calculated starting from whether the person who set the conditions would even choose to 'kill.' In other words, the decreasing probability over the years probably reflected a change in my feelings.

That’s ridiculous. After thinking that, I became distressed, wondering what I was supposed to do now if that were true.

I had said so many cruel things to her, treated her like she was nothing, ignored anniversaries, and only passively accepted what she gave me.

Five years. FIVE YEARS.

Now, how could I, with any face, tell you that I cherish you?

In the end, I continued to choose the days where I just passively accepted your feelings.

But now, it's time to end it. It’s the right moment. I don’t know if I love you, but I’m sure I care about you. I want to tell you that.

Today is the day you were born.

I finished my breakfast, then got ready for work as usual. She sent me off to the door, as usual. I parted my lips slightly, and with a voice that seemed like it might disappear, I said:

"I’m leaving."

"...Okay. Have a good day."

When she smiled with a face that seemed like she might cry, I felt strangely happy, so I said "I’m leaving" once again. I said it more clearly than before, but because she looked like she was about to cry, I hurriedly left the house.

The words "I’m leaving" that I had never said before, because I didn’t want to think of this place as my home. Seeing her so happy, I regretted not saying it sooner as I headed to the office.

I’ll make things right.

I thought that sincerely. I’ll buy her a bouquet of flowers. The cake has already been ordered. I’ll properly celebrate all the things I couldn’t before. I didn’t know what kind of present would make her happy, so I planned to go shopping with her for it. I’ll start from there. I don’t know anything about her preferences. She knows everything about mine, even though I never say anything. It's embarrassing. But, I’ll get to know her now. We have plenty of time. We’re married.

I realized today for the first time how long the time at work really is.

After greeting the clients, I planned to go straight home today, so I stopped by the florist on the way. Since I didn’t know what color flowers she liked, I chose the classic roses and had them wrapped. When they asked how many I wanted, I randomly said 100, and it turned out to be an enormous amount. Even after reducing it to 70, it was still a huge bunch, as they told me it was all they had prepared for today.

When I received the bouquet of roses, it hit my face, and my glasses fell with a clink. The shock triggered the future prediction system from this morning's history.

'25.283%'

I widened my eyes at the number displayed. I hurriedly put my glasses back on, and I could see the numbers changing every second.

'32.154%'

'38.259%'

'42.985%'

The numbers increased in a dizzying blur, and finally, they surpassed 50%.

'Probability of not being caught if you kill your wife: 52.385%'

The moment I saw that, I was propelled into action, running out.

I remembered the words my friend had said when I had once consulted him about our marriage.

"If you ever want to cherish your wife and the probability exceeds 50% based on that feeling, be careful. No matter what you want, it means you’re in a situation where that’s possible."

I asked him what he meant, but my friend just laughed and said, "Who knows?"

A situation where that’s possible? What does that mean? As I thought that, my feet were headed toward home. I pictured her face, and cold sweat began to flow.

I passed through the shopping district and stopped in front of an electronics store. That’s when I saw her face on the news.

'Traffic accident, dump truck, collision, critical condition.'

I desperately tried to make sense of the information flooding in. At the end, her photo was shown again. That’s when I collapsed to my knees.

I don’t remember much after that. Through the loud ringing of my phone, I could hear my father-in-law shouting something, but it didn’t reach me.

She were asleep. In the hospital bed, surrounded by machines.

The many bandages were so painful to look at, but I couldn’t look away from the face of her sleeping, because it was so beautiful.

"Happy birthday."

The first words I spoke were those, and then—

"I’m really sorry for everything."

The next word that came out was an apology.

Fortunately, in the room, there were only the two of us, and while sitting next to her, I predicted the future again.

"The probability of killing my wife without getting caught is 99.274%."

I thought, "That’s probably right." There was no room for emotion to intervene; if I pressed any of the buttons in front of me, she would die. If it were to lead back to me, I could just quietly strangle her.

What my friend had said before, "The probability calculation includes whether the person who set it will actually choose 'to kill'," was. In other words, hesitation. Whether or not the person would hesitate and stop before taking the step to kill.

Now, she was someone who would die before hesitating. Even if I only tried to do so a little, she would die.

"Hey, today's probability was 0%. It's not just low, it’s a huge problem."

I said that to her as usual. Because the probability was 0%. The number displayed on the glasses lens was "99.358%," but I wanted her to stay alive, so the probability was 0%. There was no way I would kill her.

"Your peace today is guaranteed. Don't just keep sleeping there, let's go to the park together with some lunch. I’ve never said it, but I really love the sweet tamagoyaki you make. The fried chicken you made was also delicious. I always silently ate the lunch you worked so hard to make. Even so, because you smiled so happily, I convinced myself that it was fine just like that."

I gently stroked her cheek, which was beginning to feel cold, as if to warm it up. I silently hoped that the usual crimson would appear there.

"Today, I learned for the first time that you wanted me to say 'I’m leaving' to you. I never said it out of some strange pride, even though that place had long ago become my home. I made you cry, didn’t I? I wonder if you cried when I wasn’t there too, is that my arrogance? I won’t make you cry again. Really. I swear."

A sob rose deep in my throat. A sharp pain stung my nose, and I couldn’t hold back my tears.

"I'm really sorry. Thank you for waiting for me all this time. Right now, I want to hear your voice. Desperately."

I gripped her hand so tightly that it almost turned pale, and I sobbed. I wasn’t confident that I expressed myself well. Still, I felt that I had to convey this at least.

"I love you. Come back, Yuri-san..."

On our 6th wedding anniversary, we spent it in the hospital room.

Our anniversary and Yuri's birthday were close to each other, and it was about to be a year since she became bedridden. Yuri had fallen into what people commonly call a vegetative state. I didn’t want to use such a disgusting term like vegetative state to describe her, but when explaining her condition, I was inevitably forced to use it. When I told her I needed to improve my vocabulary in this area, I felt that today she smiled even more beautifully than usual.

Every day, I changed the flowers in the room, just as Yuri had always done for me, and I spoke to her about trivial things. I wiped her body, and if the weather was nice, I opened the window and we basked in the sunlight together. The meals were still a work in progress, and I was working hard, determined to have her eat as soon as she woke up.

"Hey, Yuri, today's probability is 0%. Your peace is safe today too."

"96.783%"

Seeing that the number had only decreased by 3% in a year, I smiled slightly. It's alright, I can still wait. I can wait forever. So take your time and come back slowly.

The other day, the doctor told me, "Please keep in mind the possibility of stopping life support." He said the chances of recovery were slim. I punched him in anger, but now I truly regret it. So, Yuri, when you wake up, please don't be angry with me.

Six months later, my father-in-law seemed to have given up.

But I hadn't given up. I fought to hold back my desire to give up, desperately speaking to you, even though you didn't respond.

And now, another six months later, we've been married for seven years.

While watching Yuri, who still didn’t respond, I thought about the five years where I didn’t respond to her.

Was it like this, having to deal with me, who didn’t respond...? Had I made Yuri experience this emptiness?

Today, even though it's her birthday, everything in front of me is blurry, and I can’t do anything about it. Without wiping away the tears flowing down my cheeks, I spoke to Yuri.

"Happy birthday. I bought a bouquet of roses that I couldn’t send you back then. This time, it’s a hundred flowers. Isn’t that amazing? We’ll go buy your present when you wake up. Seven times over, you can wish for anything you want. I have no idea what you want, so tell me next time."

"Hey, today's probability is also 0%. Why are you still lying there?"

"92.693%"

"What’s your favorite color? What kind of hobbies do you have?"

"85.696%"

"What did you do while I wasn’t around? What kind of flowers do you like?"

"68.258%"

"Next time, show me pictures from when you were a child. Which high school did you graduate from?"

"51.258%"

I reached that point and suddenly realized. I hadn’t noticed that the numbers were dropping. The numbers kept going down. My heart rate rose in inverse proportion, increasing rapidly.

No way, no way, no way.

"32.258%"

"20.258%"

"12.258%"

"3.178%"

"0.001%"

"Good morning. You sure slept in today."

Behind the oxygen mask, her beautifully shaped lips gently smiled. Her large eyes reflected me and trembled slightly.

"Good morning, Masahiro-san."

Although no voice came out, I collapsed in tears at the shape of her lips moving.

And I am still continuing that habit.

"0.061%"

That is today’s result.

I got out of bed and stroked Yuri, who was beside me. Then, from deep inside her, a small life began crying out energetically once again. 

Translator Note

I came across this story in another language, and after reading the beginning, I thought it was good that I should translate it. I'm really glad I did! Overall, the story was enjoyable, and I hope you liked it too.

There’s also an alternate version of this story titled "A Game to Make Him Fall". Please give it a read as well.

Thanks for reading.