The gentle clinking of chalk against the blackboard filled the classroom, a monotonous symphony accompanied by the scratching of pens and the occasional rustle of paper. I, Kazuki Tanaka, sat at my desk, my chin resting on my palm as I stared out the window, watching clouds drift lazily across the sky. It was a perfect metaphor for my current state of mind: detached, floating, and utterly directionless.
"Remember, class," Nakamura-sensei's voice cut through my reverie, "your future plan applications are due at the end of the week. This is an important step in shaping your path after high school, so please take it seriously."
A collective groan rippled through the room, but I remained silent. Future plans? What a joke. As if anyone at seventeen truly knows what they want to do with their life. It's all just a game of pretend, a charade to make adults feel like they're guiding us towards some grand purpose.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class and the beginning of lunch break. As my classmates filed out of the room, chattering excitedly about their dreams of becoming doctors, lawyers, and corporate drones, I remained seated, my eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
"Tanaka-kun," Nakamura-sensei's voice startled me out of my contemplation. "May I have a word with you?"
I turned to face her, my expression carefully neutral. "Of course, sensei."
She approached my desk, a concerned frown creasing her brow. "I couldn't help but notice you seemed... disengaged during our discussion about future plans. Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," I replied, my voice flat. "I just find the concept of planning for a future we can't possibly predict to be somewhat... futile."
Nakamura-sensei's frown deepened. "I see. Well, perhaps working on your application will help clarify your thoughts. Why don't you stay after school today, and we can go over it together?"
It wasn't really a question, despite her phrasing. I nodded, resigning myself to an afternoon of forced introspection and hollow platitudes about the bright future that supposedly awaited me.
---
The afternoon dragged on, each tick of the clock a countdown to my impending doom. As the final bell rang and my classmates rushed out, eager to embrace their youth and freedom, I remained seated, a condemned man awaiting execution.
Nakamura-sensei approached, a gentle smile on her face that did nothing to ease the knot in my stomach. "Ready to work on your application, Tanaka-kun?"
I nodded, pulling out the crumpled form from my bag. I had filled it out the night before, in a moment of cynical inspiration fueled by too much coffee and too little sleep. Looking at it now, in the harsh light of day, I realized it might have been a mistake to be quite so... honest.
Nakamura-sensei's eyes widened as she scanned the document, her expression shifting from encouragement to concern to outright alarm. "Tanaka-kun," she said slowly, "this is... quite something."
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "You asked for our honest thoughts about the future, sensei. Those are mine."
She cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Yes, well... perhaps we should go through this together. Let's start with your career aspirations. You've written, 'Professional hermit, with a side gig in disappointment manufacturing.' Care to elaborate?"
"It's a growth industry," I replied, my face perfectly serious. "In today's world of constant connectivity and forced positivity, there's a real market for genuine misery. I figure I might as well capitalize on my natural talents."
Nakamura-sensei's lips thinned into a tight line. "I see. And under 'Five-Year Plan,' you've written, 'Perfect the art of invisibility, learn to photosynthesize to avoid human contact during meals.'"
I nodded sagely. "I believe in setting achievable goals, sensei."
She took a deep breath, clearly struggling to maintain her composure. "Tanaka-kun, I understand that thinking about the future can be daunting, but this level of... cynicism is concerning. Your high school years are a time for growth, for forming connections and discovering your passions."
"With all due respect, sensei," I countered, "I believe I've grown quite a bit. I've discovered my passion for avoiding unnecessary human interaction and honed my skills in observing the absurdities of social dynamics. Isn't that what high school is really about? Learning to navigate the arbitrary rules and expectations society imposes upon us?"
Nakamura-sensei's expression softened, a hint of sadness creeping into her eyes. "Is that really how you see your time here, Tanaka-kun? As nothing more than an exercise in social compliance?"
I hesitated, caught off guard by the genuine concern in her voice. For a moment, I considered dropping the act, telling her that it was all just a joke taken too far. But the truth was, it wasn't entirely an act. The words on that application, absurd as they were, held a kernel of real fear, real uncertainty about the future.
"I see it as a necessary evil," I finally admitted, my voice quieter now. "A stepping stone to... something. I just don't know what that something is yet, and I'm not sure I ever will."
Nakamura-sensei sighed, setting the application aside. "Tanaka-kun, it's okay not to have all the answers right now. Nobody expects you to have your entire life planned out at seventeen. But completely dismissing the future, isolating yourself from others... that's not the answer either."
I remained silent, unsure how to respond. Part of me wanted to argue, to defend my cynical worldview with sarcasm and wit. But another part, a part I usually kept buried deep beneath layers of indifference, longed for someone to understand, to offer some glimmer of hope that the future might not be as bleak as I imagined.
"Let me ask you this," Nakamura-sensei continued, her tone gentler now. "If you could do anything, without fear of failure or judgment, what would it be?"
The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to deliver another sarcastic quip, but the words died on my tongue. What would I do, if I truly believed I could succeed?
"I... I don't know," I admitted, the honesty of my response surprising even me. "Maybe... write? Not anything sappy or inspirational," I quickly added, seeing her eyes light up. "But something real. Something that captures the world as it is, not as people pretend it to be."
Nakamura-sensei nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "That's a start, Tanaka-kun. Writing requires keen observation, which you clearly possess. It also requires empathy, the ability to understand and convey the experiences of others. Perhaps that could be an area for you to work on?"
I snorted, my default sarcasm reasserting itself. "Empathy? In this world? I think I'll stick to my hermit plan, thanks."
But even as I said it, I felt something shift inside me. A tiny crack in the armor of cynicism I'd built around myself. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to what she was saying.
Nakamura-sensei stood, gathering her things. "I want you to rewrite this application, Tanaka-kun. And this time, I want you to be honest. Not with sarcasm or exaggeration, but with genuine reflection on who you are and who you might want to become. Can you do that for me?"
I wanted to refuse, to cling to my comfortable shell of indifference. But something in her eyes, a mixture of challenge and belief, made me nod. "I'll try, sensei. But don't expect any dreams of world peace or corporate domination."
She laughed, a sound that startled me with its warmth. "I wouldn't dream of it, Tanaka-kun. I look forward to reading your real thoughts, cynicism and all. Just... perhaps with a bit less talk of photosynthesis, hmm?"
As she left the classroom, I sat there, staring at the crumpled application. The future was still a vast, uncertain thing, looming before me like an uncharted ocean. But for the first time in a long while, I felt a tiny spark of... something. Not hope, exactly. I wasn't ready for that yet. But possibility, perhaps. The faintest glimmer of potential in the darkness.
With a sigh, I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. "The future plans of Kazuki Tanaka," I wrote at the top, then paused, pen hovering over the page. What did I really want? What could I achieve, if I allowed myself to try?
As expected I couldn't write anything....
........................................................
EXTRA:
Future Plan Application
Sakura High School
Student Name: Kazuki Tanaka
Class: 2-F
Career Aspirations: Professional hermit, with a side gig in disappointment manufacturing. I plan to revolutionize the field of social avoidance and elevate cynicism to an art form.
Academic Goals: To graduate with the minimum effort required, while accumulating enough useless knowledge to dominate obscure trivia nights.
Five-Year Plan: Year 1: Perfect the art of invisibility in social situations.
Year 2: Learn to photosynthesize to avoid human contact during meals.
Year 3: Develop a groundbreaking philosophy based on the futility of human endeavors.
Year 4: Write a bestselling self-help book titled "Embracing Your Inner Void: A Guide to Nothingness."
Year 5: Achieve enlightenment through complete detachment from societal expectations.
Personal Strengths: Unparalleled ability to find flaws in any plan or idea Expert in avoiding small talk and other forms of meaningless social interaction Highly skilled at disappointing others before they can disappoint me
Areas for Improvement: Could be more efficient in crushing my own dreams Need to expand vocabulary of sighs and eye-rolls Should work on appearing even more disinterested in group activities
Extracurricular Activities: Founder and sole member of the "Existential Crisis Club "Competitive people-watching Advanced napping techniques
Community Involvement: I contribute to society by not actively participating in it, thus reducing the overall chaos and inefficiency of human interaction.
Role Models: Diogenes of Sinope (for his commitment to cynicism and barrel-dwelling)Any sloth (for their admirable dedication to inactivity)The void (for its consistent emptiness and lack of expectations)
Life Goals: To achieve a state of such complete apathy that I transcend human concerns and become one with the universe's indifference.
Additional Comments: If you're reading this, you're probably wondering why I bothered to fill out this form at all. To be honest, so am I. Perhaps it's a final, futile attempt to conform to society's arbitrary milestones. Or maybe it's just because the blank spaces on this paper offended my sense of cosmic order. Either way, I hope this glimpse into the abyss of my future plans has been as enlightening for you as it has been pointless for me.
Signed: Kazuki Tanaka