Prologue

“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.”

The young man sits at the dining table with his mother, father, and little sister. His ever joyful sister speaks of her day, excitedly recounting time spent with her friends, and he finds it all quite vapid. He finishes his dinner. He stands up abruptly, interrupting his sister mid-word, and walks away from the table.

“Kosuke—!”

He ignores his mother's calls and keeps on walking. He walks upstairs and goes inside his bedroom. He shuts the door behind him, trapping him within the dark of his room. He lays in his bed and looks up at the ceiling, not a thought in his head. He has no will to do anything. He doesn't feel particularly tired, but he cannot summon up any strength.

He casts a forlorn glance towards his desk. When he returned home he left his bag on it. He has homework due the next day, but he cannot bring himself to do it. He doesn't think it would be difficult, but he just doesn't want to. He doesn't understand how his sister can speak of school so joyfully. To him it's all dreadfully boring. It's all things he'd be better learning on his own, but he's forced to be surrounded by fools.

It wasn't always like this. Just a few short years ago he was just like her. If there's anything he wants it would be to wallow in that knowledge. For him to know that so grand a change had occurred. But before he can do so, he hears an unsure yet powerful knock at his door. Behind it he hears the low, deep, slow voice of his father.

“Kosuke…”

He stands up and moves across his room quickly until he's standing in front of the door. He holds out his hand and wraps it around the doorknob. He holds it there for several seconds then withdraws it. He tentatively places a hand on the door, as though he were trying to grasp at what lies beyond it, but he cannot bring himself to.

“I won't come out…”

Whether his voice was filled with melancholy, he couldn't tell. Either way, his father says nothing in response. His father surely must have stood there for quite a while trying to figure out what to do for him, and only after a minute passes, with only a single door between father and son, can he hear his father walk away. He slides his palm against the door as he drags it back to his side, then he returns to his bed.

He lays there once more, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't think. He tries to not even breathe as much as he can help it. The only thing he hears is another knock on his door. It's a single soft and quiet knock, as though it didn't want to be heard, but it's sharp to him. It hurts him. As do the scurrying steps he hears right after.

The next morning comes and he gets out of bed. He checks his desk. He has no recollection of it, but his notes are laid out on the desk, open to the proper pages, and the handouts are mostly filled out. He doesn't bother to check the sheets. He puts them all roughly inside his bag. He puts on his uniform with a yawn, prepared to again go through the motions.

He walks out of his room, the door hardly making a noise as he opens it. He slips out of the house without a word. He walks to school, a dour expression never leaving his face. He takes his time, as he left much earlier than he needs, and walks at a slow pace. He arrives at the school gates in time with the rest of the students. Although he hates the feeling, he lets himself pass through unnoticed within the crowd. He's neither early nor late; he's perfectly unremarkable in that regard.

He takes his seat when he reaches the classroom. For just a brief moment he sits with his back straight and his eyes ahead, as though he were a prim and proper student. He slumps over quickly, laying his head atop his arms on his desk, making the image of himself he would rather be seen. Everyday he just pretends to sleep, even if it draws attention. Nobody speaks to him. He has no friends, no allies, no bonds. He has no one, and he has no intention of changing such a state of affairs. In many ways he prefers the ostracization from his peers. Everyone else seems happy, even so early in the day.

Nothing of note occurs, as he likes it. Lunch comes and he only continues his act. As he most often does, he skips the meal. To him eating is too tangible. It would ingrain himself in this world inside the classroom, and he would much rather avoid such an outcome. As far as he cares, the more he can avoid living as a human the better.

When his math class comes he continues to pretend to sleep. He's unfaltering in this. However, he perks up quite a bit more than normal as this teacher is much sterner than the others. It's much more likely that the teacher attempts to rouse him with a sudden question in this class than any other. And it of course happens as he predicts, and as it happens most days. When he's called upon he stands, making no attempt to pretend to stir. He doubts anyone still believes him, if anyone did to start.

Although he's only pretending to sleep, he truly is unaware of the present situation in class. He hasn't been following anything. He takes a quick glance at the problem he's to solve on the board. It's a simple, trite problem, as they always are. He solves it quickly. He weighs his options and comes to the conclusion that he's pushed his luck enough with nonsense answers this week. He gives the correct answer and sits back down without a care.

At last classes end for the day. He leaves without a word to anyone, just as he arrives. When he begins his walk home, he notes two guys from his class who have never before taken this route. They're loud and irritating, talking as though they're the only ones in the world. He doesn't bother listening until he realizes he's a subject of their conversation.

“At least it's funny to watch the teachers try to deal with him.”

“Ah! I just remembered! Apparently, he has a sister in middle school.”

“A guy like that's sister?”

“I heard from my brother that she's cute.”

“That's hilarious. I can't imagine a loser like him being a proper brother, but maybe he'll show us something fun if we mess with his sister a bit.”

They both laugh. He finds them repugnant. They are what is so hateful about humanity given form. Crude, self-centered, cruel, immoral. Yet they are only the extreme of human depravity. He's come to understand that all of humanity is like this. That humanity is a violent blight on both the world and the morals we ourselves invented. And that nothing matters in the end because humanity is too far gone to change.

Regardless he runs up behind them and gives one of them a light tap on the back. He meant for it to be a strong strike. They both turn back and glare at him viciously. They gang up on him, and he can do nothing. They leave him beaten on the side of the road. He sits on the empty street, waiting for the pain to dull. There's nobody else. No one cares.

When he recuperates he returns to walking, as though nothing has happened. He can't come up with a reason that explains his current state. But he becomes distracted before he can conjure one up. He realizes that his timing faltered and he is now liable to cross paths with his sister. However, he no longer has the strength to rush.
Just as he has the thought, he spots his sister ahead of him. She's alone, and he doesn't know what to do. He just follows her at this distance hoping she never notices.

As she crosses the street, he notices that she looks distracted. He further notices a truck careening towards her, with something terrible likely having happened to the driver. He tries to call out, but fails to call her name, instead only making a strange noise. She stops and turns, still not noticing the danger. He runs forward. He reaches her. He pushes her. And the truck slams into him.

On the ground he again comes to the same conclusion. Nothing matters. In the grand scheme saving her changes nothing. Humanity won't be absolved. He won't be absolved. The suffering inflicted by man is too great. Whether he dies or she did, nothing changes. In his last moment of lucidity he curses his fate to be born a human. To be born at all.
Then he hears a voice pulsating inside his skull. It is one-thousand yet one. He can barely handle it.

“What a tragic, pathetic death, young one.”

He can feel himself fading. He thinks he hears something else nearby but he cannot be sure. He again curses humanity. He doubts anything good can come from this and he curses that as well. And then nothing makes sense anymore, and he cannot comprehend anything. And thus his shadow is cast once more.