The moonlight shone through the narrow gaps between the buildings of a street alley as a man stumbled every so often, yet he continued trudging toward his destination. In a quiet neighborhood, a man wearing a hoodie walked through the streets. It was clear he had been drinking by the way he staggered across the road.
Lack of sleep and malnutrition were evident from his sallow cheeks and the dark bags under his eyes.
It wasn't until he kicked an empty plastic bottle with his foot that he stopped in place, his gaze turning serious. The sound of the bottle bouncing on the ground echoed through the quiet streets as he fell to his knees just a few meters away.
He could only stare at the bottle in anger and frustration, feeling as if it were taunting him. After a few moments, he grabbed the bottle, tossing it into the trash can with a defeated sigh, as if placing a part of himself in there as well.
Finally, he made his way back home.
The man reached his cramped apartment and fished for his keys in his pocket. After a few moments of searching, he found them and unlocked the door, stepping inside. He flicked on the light, illuminating a small studio apartment. The space felt heavy with silence, as though it were a reflection of the man himself.
He tossed his hoodie onto the floor and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to wash away the grime of the day. Staring into the mirror, he saw a face that looked almost foreign. The hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes whispered of exhaustion, hunger, and something deeper—something broken.
Unable to bear his reflection for more than a few seconds, he left the bathroom, retreating to his small gaming setup, a cheap desk and a secondhand chair facing a modest monitor. It was his sanctuary.
Nagi powered on his gaming console and launched one of the latest action games. For a moment, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift. His calloused fingers moved instinctively over the controller as the familiar soundtrack played.
"Alright," he muttered, leaning closer to the screen. "Let's see if I can clear this level tonight."
The vibrant game world engulfed him, the real world fading into the background. For the next few hours, he was no longer Nagi, the man trudging through life. Instead, he was a hero in a fantasy land, slaying monsters and saving kingdoms.
However, the illusion didn't last. After failing the same level for the third time, Nagi groaned in frustration, tossing the controller onto the desk. He rubbed his temples as his headache returned with a vengeance. The alcohol he had consumed earlier hadn't fully left his system, and it felt as though his head was splitting open.
"Where are my meds?" he mumbled, dragging himself toward his bag. His hands fumbled through its contents until he found the familiar bottle prescribed by his doctor for his depression. Without much thought, he unscrewed the cap and popped a single pill into his mouth.
The antidepressants were meant to help balance his mood, to keep him grounded in a life that often felt too heavy to bear. But he knew from experience that they didn't work miracles. They couldn't cure loneliness or fill the void that had grown in his chest over the years.
He stared at the bottle for a moment, a storm of thoughts swirling in his head. The emptiness felt overwhelming, a deep chasm that the medication could only ever skim the surface of.
In a moment of desperation, Nagi tipped the bottle again and swallowed another pill. Then another.
"Maybe this time… it'll be enough," he whispered, his voice shaking.
As the pills slid down his throat, a chill swept through him. It was December, and winter's icy grip was unrelenting. He glanced at the clock, which read 12:30 AM.
"Five hours," he muttered. "Five hours of sleep. That's all I need."
But as he moved to sit on his bed, his vision blurred. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, each beat more frantic than the last.
"What… what's happening?" Panic surged through him as he stumbled toward his bag, searching for answers. His trembling hands reached inside, pulling out the nearly empty bottle of antidepressants.
The realization hit him like a thunderclap.
He had taken too many.
"No… not like this," he murmured, dropping to his knees as the bottle slipped from his grasp. The room spun around him, and his body felt heavy, as if the weight of all his regrets had finally crushed him.
Collapsing onto the floor, Nagi's thoughts drifted to another time—a time when life was simpler. When he was with his family and friends.
"If I had another chance…" His voice was barely audible, a whisper carried into the void.
The game on his screen continued playing without him, a lone character waiting for its player to return. But Nagi wouldn't be coming back.