I'm walking along the sidewalk in Ginza. The cityscape of Tokyo sprawls out around me. A dark night sky paints the horizon.
People walk across the crowded sidewalks — — cars are stuck in traffic, office buildings still lit up even at midnight. That's society. It's close to me. I'm walking in it, even, yet it feels even more distant than the stars.
It makes me wonder where it all went wrong for me.
I take a deep inhale, and my breath puffs out. It's a warm summer night, but there's the quick and biting chill of the breeze. I tune in to the wind blowing past me, and the sound of it. The muted bustle of the city.
My life is pointless. The lanyard around my neck, flailing in the wind, is another reminder of the life I now can't escape from.
My parents died when I was young. But my relatives took me in. My life was.. good. Average. Maybe even above average. I was mildly gifted in school, had friends, didn't have much of a passion in life — always figured that I'd figure it out later.
Later came. Majored in business because that's what all people did who didn't know what to do. Seemed applicable and appealing.
Got into a job. Decent pay, alright reputation, why wouldn't I accept? My friends all departed in their own directions, as most high-school friendships ended, and we stopped talking.
Maybe that was where it went wrong?
I got sucked into work. Everyday was just work, work, and more work. Social life? Non-existent. Sure, I was cordial with co-workers, had a professional dinner out a few times..
Anyhow, it was just the same cycle over and over again. Monotonous. I wasn't living. But i paid the pills and got my own place, as people say adults should have.
God, actually I think that's the point where everything tilted upside down.
Started smoking. Why not? Relieved stress, didn't have much to care for, all my co-workers indulged too. Got a promotion. Had nothing to worry about at my place, trashed it. I spiraled.
My life was terrible. I drank when i got home at 2am, smoked, went back to work at 8am next morning.
The one thing that snapped me out of it happened Today.
Today, I got a call. My relatives who took care of me, aunt and uncle, died in a tragic accident.
I remember it clearly.
—
A Few Hours Earlier…
At 10pm — Corporate Office
I chugged another black coffee, the bitter taste burning my throat, forcing me up. I straightened my back and adjusted my suit. The final push before I was out. A heavy sigh escaped my lips, the reality slapping me in my face. Fucking hell. Not like I have anything better waiting for me out of this office.
Whatever. I focused back onto my computer monitor, which displayed an eye-burningly bright excel sheet. I got back to calculating budgets.
Just as I was back in the groove, my phone vibrated in my pocket on silent mode. It caught my attention. Not many people call me nowadays. Aunt Akari calls me once a week to check in. So does Uncle Haruto. But they never call so late..
I get out of my suffocating cubicle, the fluorescent lights grating on me again, so I step into the bathroom. I look at the caller ID. Some random number. I pick up.
"Hello?" I mutter into the phone, already mildly irritated.
There's the sound of keyboard clacking, and then a female voice sounds through. "Ah, yes. Are you Mr. Asahi?" She sounds strangely apprehensive. "This is Shibuya-eki Hospital calling. We have news for you regarding family members."
My heart stutters. I can't remember the last time I was actually worried. "Excuse me? Ah- yes, sorry. I am Ren Asahi. Who is this about?" I start pacing the run-down, empty bathroom.
A moment of silence.
"This is about, who we believe to be, your aunt and uncle. Haruto Sato and Akari Sato?" The woman says, lightly.
I clench my jaw tightly, grinding my teeth. A bad habit ever since I was a child. "Are you serious?" I ask, knowing the answer is yes. "Well, tell me. What is it?" I can't help but be impatient, my anxiousness only heightening.
"I'm really sorry to inform you of this, but both of them died this night in a car accident. No evidence of foul play, simply an unlucky mistake. My condolences.." the rest of her voice fades away into the background, because all I can hear are the words they died.
My world stops. I can hear my heartbeat pounding inside my ears. My breathing too. This.. this is happening? I never showed it. Or even thought about it much myself. But I loved them.
Am I cursed or something?
My hands shake. I run to the sink and brace it, arms shivering, the urge to do something.. anything taking over. I want to scream, break the mirror, cry uncontrollably.. but I'm frozen and pathetic. Unable to do anything in my pure terror.
Then, it seems my physical form catches up to what happens. My heart beat speeds up, breathing intensifies, my head feels light and heavy at the same time.
Why am I so fucking pathetic?
I can't help but think it.
I couldn't muster up the courage to break out of the torturous life I created for myself. I didn't have the heart to tell my aunt and uncle my true feelings for them. I have never stood up for myself.
I'm useless.
The most I've contributed to society is some documents about a warehouse that distributes clothing. An excel sheet showing where the losses are.
I can't protect anyone I care about. The last time I talked to them was a week ago over the phone for 5 minutes..
All my failures build up in my mind, standing atop one another, until I'm just so worn out I can't even think of another thing. I look up from the basin of the rusty sink. A mirror reflecting my face is the view I get instead.
God, I look like a greasy douche of a man. Gelled — slicked back hair, that shines with pomade. Unkempt stubble I haven't bothered shaving. The former decently sharp and formed features I had while younger became less defined thanks to my habits. The suit that barely fits me now, thanks to the weight I gained.
I'm ugly. It hits me. I was used to being above average in a way. If 5 was the perfectly normal human being, I was a 6. Maybe a 6.5 on a good day.
Now, I'm a 4. A 3, now that I see the pimples, uneven skin, and eye bags.
The sound of my name being said repeatedly makes me focus on to my phone again. Right.
"Mr. Asahi? Sir? Hello?"
I take in a deep breath and reply. "I'm still here. I understand. I.. need time. Thanks for telling me." I shut off the phone.
All the emotions that have built up within the past five minutes flood out. I punch the mirror with all my strength like my urge told me to do. I overextend my arm, shoulder muscles aching, but my fist collides with the glass in the way I wanted it to. The pane fractures, piercing the skin of my knuckles, scraping, my reflection distorted in fragments.
—
Present.
Corporate Office Rooftop
And in a large blur, I remember stumbling out of the bathroom, into the elevator. I smashed the lobby button, and then nearly ran out into the street. I stood at the entrance to the office building, for a moment, taking in.. everything. People gave me a few weird looks, before ignoring me. And then, I blended into the crowds, walking with them.
My life.
It is of no use anymore. No one will care if i'm gone. Ren Asahi is just a fading memory in the minds of my high-school friends, co-workers, teachers, and bosses. My removal will cause no damage to society. Just like if one of the people on the street I'm walking on right now disappears a week from now — I wouldn't know.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Then — the sound of screaming. I instinctually turn to the noise. It's a crowd of concerned citizens, all staring at a young teenage boy who has walked out into the middle of the street. Cars swerve and dodge narrowly. Loud honks and yelling quickly sound out.
Everyone hovers around the curb, but no one wants to put themself in the middle of a bustling street and push the boy to safety.
Before I think, my feet are carrying me to the road. My mind is focused on one thing, saving him. I don't know the kid. I don't know what he's going through. I don't know why he's subjecting himself to this.
But he should live a better life than mine. He has more time to figure things out than me. He has a chance.
I tackle the boy away, shoving him with all the willpower inside me. My thoughts are quiet for once. The adrenaline inside me pumping as I see him tumble to the sidewalk — where a bunch of people pull him onto the concrete.
The next thing I see is headlights. There's an incomprehensible amount, all coming in my direction. Horns blare. More yelling.
It happens in a moment.
I barely register that there's another new car coming at me, at a speed that doesn't look legal — or avoidable.
There's a loud clamour, in the split second where it becomes clear my situation is hopeless.
I'm not afraid. I'm.. strangely at peace. Like this is the best choice I've ever made. There's a lightness in my chest, a feeling I've never felt.
A smile crosses my lips, the smallest tug of the corner going upwards. This will be better for everyone. I saved someone. Someone's life that I know is better than mine, a young boy. A teen. Someone who has more to give.
My eyes close.
Death, I'm ready for you.
Pain.
Indescribable, crushing, burning, brutal pain sears my mind. Everything seems broken. My consciousness is bleary, fading, and eventually.. silence.