The alarm clock, a relentless metronome of morning torture, shrieked to life at 6:59 AM, as if it had been training its entire life for this moment.
A man, his nose slightly tipped, brown hair flecked with white, and blue eyes hidden beneath a cocoon of blankets, groaned, "Five more minutes, please....."
Ding!!!!!!!!!!Ding!!!!!!!!!!!Ding!!!!¿
The clock hit 7:00 AM like it was auditioning for the role of an overly dramatic opera singer.
Kazuki, his eyes red that is red as tomato kept wobbling,with some strength he slapped at the alarm clock with all the accuracy of a drunk trying to swat a fly. When he finally silenced the damn thing, he started plotting its demise, imagining ways to send it to an early grave. Just then, the ceiling decided to join the fun.
Tap…tap… Water began dripping directly onto his forehead, each drop as cold and deliberate as if the universe had a personal vendetta.
"You've got to be kidding me," Kazuki muttered, glaring up at the ceiling as if it might apologize or, better yet, stop leaking.
"Good morning to my bad luck. Thanks for the wet wake-up call," he grumbled, sounding like a man who'd just been slapped awake by a wet fish. Determined not to let the day defeat him before he even got out of bed, Kazuki launched himself into his morning routine, dodging shoes and bedsheets with all the grace of a drunk octopus.
He stumbled into the bathroom, only to be ambushed by his shower, which apparently had a personal grudge. The water blasted out with the force of a fire hose, and before he knew it, shampoo bottles were flying like they were auditioning for the next big action movie.
"Goddamn it!" Kazuki yelped, hopping on one foot after kicking the edge of the tub, his other foot throbbing with pain.
The soap, clearly in cahoots with the rest of the universe, sent him skidding across the bathroom floor like a contestant in some twisted game show. "Can't a guy just have a normal shower?"
But no, the universe wasn't done with him yet. As Kazuki poured cereal into his bowl, the box decided it had had enough of this world and went rogue, spewing cornflakes everywhere like some kind of demonic confetti cannon. The milk, not to be outdone, toppled over and poured itself across the counter in a dairy disaster of epic proportions.
"Fantastic. Just what I needed," Kazuki muttered through gritted teeth as he surveyed the kitchen, which now looked like it had been hit by a breakfast-themed bomb. "A cereal massacre. Perfect start to the day."
Somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, Kazuki found himself laughing. "Guess I'm the star of my own goddamn slapstick comedy. When do the hidden cameras pop out?"
He hoped the bike ride to work would be uneventful. Naturally, that was wishful thinking. Halfway there, his bike tire exploded like it had been holding a grudge since he bought it. Kazuki trudged the last mile, sweating and cursing under his breath like a man on a mission from hell.
When he finally dragged himself into the office, Mr. Tanaka was waiting, looking like he'd been camped out just to shit on Kazuki's day.
"Yamamoto, late again," Mr. Tanaka sneered, his tone so acidic it could strip paint.
"Sorry, sir. My bike—" Kazuki started, but Mr. Tanaka cut him off with a glare that could freeze fire.
"Save it. Get to work." Mr. Tanaka's voice rose to a volcanic eruption, practically spitting lava. "Always late and the same excuses! Even to me, the boss, huh? You'll be fired if you don't get those files done by tonight."
Kazuki gave a weak salute, mumbling under his breath, "Yes, sir, your Royal Pain-in-the-Ass.
Kazuki slumped into his chair, ready to make the most of whatever shreds of dignity he had left. Naturally, the universe had other plans.
The screen froze, as if even it had decided it couldn't handle the drama of Kazuki's day anymore. His computer, apparently auditioning for the role of the day's biggest drama queen, crashed with all the flair of a soap opera star fainting after discovering a long-lost evil twin.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Kazuki growled, staring at the frozen screen as if he could intimidate it back to life through sheer, unfiltered rage.
He could practically hear the computer's thoughts: Oh no, Kazuki! I simply can't go on, not after everything we've been through today!
"Piece of shit," he muttered, clenching his fists and resisting the urge to punch the monitor. It was a close call—he could almost feel the satisfying crunch of plastic under his knuckles. But no, better not to add assaulting office property to his list of morning achievements.
This is fine, he told himself, channeling the inner monologue of a man teetering on the edge of sanity. Just a minor hiccup. Maybe it'll restart on its own...or maybe it'll spontaneously combust and put me out of my misery.
As he sat there, waiting for the computer to decide whether it wanted to reboot or give up entirely, Kazuki couldn't help but imagine the monitor talking back to him. Well, Kazuki, I'm done. I've had enough of your incompetence and this hideous wallpaper you picked. Consider this my resignation.
He shook his head, trying to snap out of it. But the urge to laugh—or scream—was building up. "Maybe the printer will catch on fire next," he mused darkly, "and then I can just roast marshmallows over the wreckage of my career."
Just as he was about to lose it completely, the office door creaked open, and in walked Yumi. She was the kind of woman who seemed to glide rather than walk, her every movement calculated to draw eyes—and she knew it. Yumi was the office's resident femme fatale, and Kazuki couldn't decide whether she was more dangerous than the leaky ceiling back home.
"Kazuki," Yumi purred, her voice dripping with enough honey to send anyone into a diabetic coma. She leaned against his desk, the scent of her perfume swirling around him like a lethal cloud. "Having a rough day?"
Kazuki gulped, trying to focus on anything other than the way her blouse clung to her like it was painted on. "You could say that," he muttered, fighting the urge to stammer like a teenager. "This damn computer—"
Yumi leaned in closer, her lips curling into a smile that was all kinds of trouble. "Maybe it's not the computer," she whispered, her voice low and teasing. "Maybe it's just you."
"Or maybe it's cursed," Kazuki shot back, trying to ignore the way his pulse was pounding in his ears. "Like my entire fucking life."
Yumi laughed, the sound sending a shiver down Kazuki's spine. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out, Kazuki," she said, her voice oozing with mock sympathy. "Or maybe you won't. Either way, it'll be entertaining to watch."
With that, she was gone, leaving Kazuki to wonder if he was more flustered by her or his possessed computer. Probably both.
By lunchtime, Kazuki was about one more glitch away from committing a full-blown office crime. The idea of hurling his cursed computer out the window was becoming less of a fantasy and more of a well-thought-out plan. He could already imagine the screen shattering, the keyboard smashing to pieces, and the satisfying sound of it all meeting its untimely demise on the pavement below.
"Maybe if I'm lucky, it'll take out Tanaka on the way down," Kazuki muttered darkly, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. The image of Mr. Tanaka dodging flying computer parts made him chuckle like a man on the edge of sanity.
Needing some air to cool off, Kazuki stepped outside, inhaling deeply as if he could exhale all the bullshit his day had thrown at him. That's when he spotted it—a shiny penny on the ground, practically glowing under the midday sun, like a beacon of hope in his otherwise disastrous day.
"Finally, some goddamn luck," Kazuki muttered, his face twisting into a greedy grin, his eyes locking onto the coin as if it were the Holy Grail. This was it. The universe had finally decided to cut him some slack. He could almost hear a choir of angels singing in the background, complete with trumpets and maybe even a harp or two.
He glanced around, making sure no one else had spotted his little treasure. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he crept toward the penny, his movements as stealthy as a cat burglar zeroing in on a priceless jewel.
Kazuki bent down, reaching for the penny with the kind of reverence usually reserved for ancient relics. "Maybe this is the turning point," he thought, his heart skipping a beat. "Maybe I'll go back in there, and the computer will actually work. Hell, maybe I'll win the lottery tonight!"
As his fingers brushed the cool metal, he couldn't help but imagine all the good luck that was about to flood his life. Watch out, world, he thought with a triumphant grin. Kazuki's about to catch a break.
But just as his fingers brushed the penny, a shadow loomed overhead. Kazuki looked up, squinting against the sunlight, and froze. There, descending toward him with the slow inevitability of a punchline, was a grand piano.
Kazuki's eyes widened as the grand piano descended toward him, casting a ridiculous shadow that seemed to scream, "You're screwed!" But just when it seemed like he was about to meet his absurd end, his instincts kicked in. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled speed, he leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding the massive instrument as it crashed onto the pavement with a deafening boom.
Kazuki lay on the ground, panting and wide-eyed. "Holy shit, I actually dodged it!" he gasped, adrenaline making his heart pound. He couldn't help but laugh, the sound almost maniacal.
"Nice try, universe! You thought you had me, didn't you? But not today, you twisted son of a bitch! I'm still here!"
He got to his feet, brushing himself off with exaggerated bravado. "I'm like a goddamn action hero! The unkillable Kazuki Gotame!" He kicked a piece of piano debris, grinning like a fool. "What's next, huh? You got anything else, or are you done for the day?"
Kazuki's triumph was short-lived. As he took a victorious step forward, his foot landed on a stray banana peel—because of course it did. He slipped, arms flailing, and before he could even process the irony, his head slammed into a nearby fire hydrant with a comical *clang*.
Stars exploded in his vision as he crumpled to the ground, the hydrant's valve twisting loose in the process. A jet of water shot out, blasting Kazuki directly in the face as he lay there, groaning.
"Of fucking course," he muttered weakly, water splashing over him as his consciousness faded. "Dodged a piano... killed by a goddamn banana peel and a fucking hydrant..."
And with that, Kazuki Gotame met his end—not under a grand piano as fate had first intended, but in a slapstick combination of fruit and city infrastructure. It was a demise so absurd that even the universe couldn't help but pat itself on the back for a job well done.
.....