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“Under Article 211 of the Penal Code, the defendant, Mashiro Fujimori, is found guilty of professional negligence resulting in death. Taking into account the specific circumstances of the case and the fact that this is a first offense, the court imposes a fine of 650,000 yen in lieu of incarceration. This case is hereby adjourned.”

The silence of the courtroom was loud.

No—it wasn’t the silence that was loud—but rather, it was the indescribable ringing in my ears.

It had started back when the incident happened, and had gotten louder as time went on.

Today, it was louder than ever.

When I got home, I immediately ran to my room and shut the door before the yelling started.

My parents have been yelling a lot recently. Whether it was at each other, at me, or at someone over the phone, I didn’t care. The ringing was louder than them anyway—loud enough for me to go to sleep through all the yelling.

The next day when I got to work, I was met with a myriad of different looks. Some of them were sad, some of them were angry, and others were a mix of both.

Stop looking at me like that, I thought, it’s not my fault.

As I tried to make my way to my work station, a hurricane of words were thrown at me.

“How could you overlook something so important?!” the first person shouts.

I don’t know, it’s not my fault.

“All you had to do was one thing! One thing!” someone joins in.

I know. I know…

“The boss should’ve never offered you this job! You’re as useless as they say you were! You make everything worse!”

You’re right.

“You’re useless!”

I am.

“Get out of here!”

I should.

“You can’t do a single damn job correctly, can’t you?!”

I’m sorry.

“We should’ve never let you come here!”

I’m sorry.

“IF YOU HADN’T COME HERE—If you hadn’t come here–! She would’ve… she would’ve still been with us…”

…I’m sorry… I know… I’m sorry… it’s my fault… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m—-

“EVERYONE BACK TO YOUR STATIONS!” Mr. Ichikawa’s voice suddenly calls out, “I know Itsumi’s passing has been hard on all of us, but that doesn’t give you the right to harass one of our own!”

The room falls silent for a moment, before everyone grudgingly starts making their way back to their stations.

I looked up at him.

“Mr. Ichikawa… I’m—”

“Don’t talk to me!” he cuts me off, “I’m just… very angry at you right now.”

He looks off into the distance before finding a nearby chair and slumps down on it, his palms rubbing against his face before he stops and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Mrs… Fujimori,” he silently says, referring to me in a formal manner for the first time since we’ve met, “I think it’s best that you take a break from working here.”

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning.

“You’re… you’re fir—”

“No, I’m not firing you,” he says, “I just think it’s best that you stay away from everyone for a while to let things cool down. Your current presence here is making our production drop even more than it already has after Itsumi’s death, and I just want to try to alleviate some of the stress our employees are feeling right now. I’ll give you three months worth of your salary in advance, and you can try coming back after that… and then I’ll decide what to do from there.”

He hands me a sealed yellow envelope full of cash.

No, you mustn’t cry, I told myself, not right now at least. You have to hold it in. After all, you should’ve expected this to happen.

I slowly took the envelope from his hands.

“...Thanks…” I said, “I’m sor—”

He holds out hands as if telling me to stop.

Oh… I silently thought, I see.

Placing the envelope into my pocket, I quietly leave the factory.

No, not yet, I told myself again, you mustn’t cry yet.

As I make it onto the streets, however, the looks and words of resentment don’t stop.

“Hey, look, it’s that girl,” I hear as a group of highschoolers pass by.

“Ueda was a large town but it was very quiet and spread out, making it feel like a small one. News and gossip spread quickly amongst the townsfolk…”

I ignored them, continuing to trudge my way back home.

“Didn’t she get off a little easy?” another one says.

“A 650,000 yen fine? That’s like a slap on the wrist.”

I continued walking faster.

“What if she does it again?”

Faster.

“Nah she won’t, I heard the second time isn’t so forgiving.”

“Well you never know what’s on the mind of a murderer.”

Shut up.

“Woah, a murderer in our town. The thought of that is kind of scary.”

Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!

I continued walking faster and faster until I broke into a blind sprint all the way back home, occasionally almost being run over by a car.

When I finally reached my house, I was on the verge of tears, barely holding it together, however, just as I was about to cry, I noticed a figure waiting outside.

It was my grandpa.

“Mashiro, my beloved grandchild…” he said as I sprinted towards him, hugging him as I finally broke down.

“I’m sorry…!” I wailed out, crying into his arms, but instead of patting my head like he always did when I cried, he remained silent.

“No… I’m the one who’s sorry,” he murmured as I looked up at him in confusion, “I tried… I really tried but… your parents… they don’t want you here anymore. It’s best that you moved away…”

I stood there, too stunned to continue crying as he pulled out an envelope.

Another one? I thought.

“You've always said you wanted to go to Tokyo right? Take this as your opportunity to go. Leave everything behind and never return,” he said, “...find a good college to pursue what you always wanted to do. Find a way to make a living. I’m sure there’s at least one job out there you’ll be good at. Forget everything that happened here, and move on.”

I silently take the envelope from him, looking behind him to see my belongings packed up.

“I found you a place in Hachioji—one of the cities in the Tokyo metropolitan area, and this envelope contains a few months worth of rent and food. I’ll keep trying to send you money when I can but…” he starts coughing as my eyes widen at the realization, “as you can see… I don’t have much time left here either… at the very least I wanted to see you make it to art school and follow your dreams, but it seems that wish of mine is quite far away isn’t it?”

He gives me a gentle smile as I begin to cry again.

“Don’t cry, Mashiro,” he gently pats me, “like I said. Just think of this as following your dreams.”

But despite his words, I couldn’t help but continue crying. I cried and cried and cried, until my voice became quiet enough for the ringing in my ears to become louder than my sobs.

                                                               -✧─✦-. ⁺【❤】⁺ .-✦─✧-

I pressed my head against the window of the night bus, staring out at the indigo sky as the thumping of the bus against my head mixes with the ringing.

I’m tired, I silently thought, I’m tired of everything.

The frequency of the ringing starts to become faster.

“Well you never know what’s on the mind of a murderer.”

Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!

I bang my head against the window.

I’m tired of seeing people, I wish they’d all go away. I wish they’d all shut up.

The sounds of the world slowly begin to drown out one by one, leaving only the ringing in my ears. I pressed my hands over them, wishing it’d go away as well.

“I don’t have much time left here either…”

“Shut up…” I whimpered, “please… shut up…”

I hate it.

I looked outside at the dying sunlight on the horizon and the trail of stars that curtained down over it as if squashing the last of it out.

I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

I closed my eyes as the last of the sounds drowned out, leaving only the thumping of my heart and the ringing—the damn ringing.

I hate it. I hate that too. I hate everything. I’m tired, I don’t want to think anymore. I’m tired of thinking. I don’t want to see people anymore. They make me overthink. I don’t want to hear anything anymore. I hate seeing colors. I don’t want to see anything anymore. I hate it here. I hate this world. All of it—everything, everything, everything—

Everything, should just turn transparent and disappear.