0 — Shinichi's Novel

This place is a prison.

Not just the classroom, although it certainly felt like one. Dozens of the exact same wooden chairs and desks lined up, neatly organized, while one well-dressed overweight man droned on and on about something so boring it became white noise. That's the temporary jailer of this chamber. Soon, another one would take his place, talking about a different flavor of boring nonsense. The people sitting down can't even hide how uninterested they are, most of them covertly using their phones under their desks or just looking ahead with a blank expression on their faces. The man mumbled something about 'homework' before continuing his tedious drivel.
Not that it concerned Suzuki Akira.

He won't do the assigned homework. Why bother going to the trouble if most of his answers will be wrong anyway? It's way better to cut his losses and find a better use of his time. Tired of pretending to pay attention, his eyes naturally wander to the window to his right, as he sees it.

The real prison.

The drab, lifeless, rainy gray sky stretched out infinitely, pierced by tall, corporate buildings that caged the workers inside like birds, rendering them mindless zombies for eight to twelve hours of their days. And those stuck in these monuments of greed are the lucky ones, because the real bottom of the barrel are relegated to roles such as customer service, construction or cashier. But even that's still better than nothing. There is nothing more humiliating and isolating than having nothing. Having no job or prospects is below the bottom of the barrel. You've somehow dug into the wood just to get yourself underground. At this point, you're not even human. You're better off running into the forest and never coming back.

And even knowing that, it's still not enough to compel him to pay attention. He never did it before, after all. There's absolutely no way he's going to catch up at this rate. And even if he paid attention now, the contents probably require prior knowledge which he definitely lacks because he didn't pay attention before. It's too late to change.

He watched the soft light, diffused by the abundance of light gray clouds. It coated his view in a sickly, flat, clinical filter, and everything he saw felt drained of any color, purpose or joy. The muted colors screamed out, trying to show off and get some attention, but they're too corrupted by the blandness of the surroundings to show themselves as alive.

All of the people that walked in the streets, all of them inside the buildings, everyone in the classroom. All of them unknowing inmates of the suffocating city of Tokyo.

He sighs, staring blankly out the window, unable to bear his own thoughts. The unexciting view and boring monologue from his teacher too little to keep him awake, so his eyes slowly close on their own.

He remembered when his mother told him to do the dishes. It's only fair, since she did everything else.

So that's what he went to do. He walked up to the pile of dishes.

And it left him paralyzed.

'...a.'

He kept wondering what would happen if he screwed up. What if he broke a plate?

Or worse. What if he cleaned one of the plates really poorly? It could still have bacteria in it. And if his mother didn't notice it, someone could end up eating from that plate and getting a disease. They could end up going to the hospital, or even dying. All because of him.

'...ira.'

So he walked away from the dishes, not caring that his mother would be furious. She would be way more mad if he did do it and broke a plate, or she could even die if he didn't clean them well enough.

So, this is the best choice. If you don't try anything, you might disappoint people, but you at least avoid messing up and making things even worse.

That's the way you truly avoid conflict. You coax through life doing the bare minimum, and then—

"Akira!" A sharp voice broke that train of thought, as the boy's gaze traveled from the window to the front of the room he was in. The blackboard was empty, and the room itself was mostly devoid of people. He looked at the person sitting next to him, a messy-haired boy with glasses. "No wonder your grades are so bad. You slept through the whole lecture!"

"What do you want, Shinichi?" Akira replied lazily, yawning.

"Geez, way to treat a friend." Shinichi sighed, pulling out a stapled stack of paper from his backpack. "I wanted to tell you that class was over, first of all, since you didn't notice." Shinichi laid the stack of paper on Akira's desk. "And second of all, you remember how I'm writing a novel, right?"

"I... think so? Not sure."

"Come on. Really?" Shinichi groaned, rolling his eyes. "Well, I've finished it. But I need beta readers, right? To catch grammatical errors or inconsistencies or things like that. So I was wondering if you could take a look for me, pretty please?"

"I don't really like reading." Akira replied, getting up from his chair. "Good luck with that, though.""Hey! Please, man." Shinichi moved towards Akira, a pleading look in his eyes. "I'm not going to hold it against you if you don't like it or don't finish it, okay? But please, give it a chance."

"Ugh, fine." Akira took the stack of paper and put it inside his backpack. "I'll read it when I get home. But I'm telling you if it sucks."

"That's preferable, actually. Just try to make it constructive, okay?"

"Can't promise it." Akira put on his backpack, moving to leave. "I'm going home."

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Shinichi said, as Akira left the room.

— — —

"Attention, all passengers. Due to technical difficulties, the train service will have a longer interval in-between each train. Please, line up orderly and follow our staff's instructions."

"Great. Just my luck." Akira murmured as he waited at the very back of a gigantic line. If the workers inside of a corporate building are birds, then the skittering around of the thousands that take the subway every day looked more like a rat colony, desperately moving around the same places, doing their functions ad infinitum until their inevitable demise. Akira tried to open up an app on his phone, but there's no signal. So he would just have to wait however many hours it took without doing anything.

His mind started to wander, as it often did, but it kept recalling his conversation with Shinichi. Akira wasn't ever planning to read Shinichi's novel. Not for a lack of interest, but because he was sure his feedback wouldn't be worth anything. He then remembered earlier, when he refused to pay attention in class because he thought he was already a lost cause. He then remembers the day before, when his mother asked him to to the dishes and he just did not do it.

One train finally arrived after a few minutes, but the line barely took any damage as Akira walked two steps forward before having to stop again. He tried for his phone again, but for some reason he just couldn't access anything in it.

"Ugh." He groaned. "Fine, I'll do it." He mumbled to himself as he opened his backpack and took Shinichi's book out. Well, not book. It was more like a manuscript, since it didn't have a cover art and was just a bunch of pages stapled together. Still better than dying of boredom, even if Akira's sure that Shinichi will be thoroughly disappointed in his unimaginative feedback. Akira began to read, walking forward slighly whenever the line moved.

'Before the land of Orskideal,' The book started. A bit of a mouthful, but it is a slightly familiar name. Maybe he hasn't forgotten everything that Shinichi told him. 'There were many gods and goddesses, living in the empty cosmos. Everything that existed, exists or will exist has been created by their ideas. One of the goddesses, Sunnaria, thought of a beautiful, massive ball of fire that nurtured life and provided warmth. The universe did the rest. Dust and debris clashed together in space for millions of years until that flaming sphere was created, just as Sunnaria envisioned. She named it Sun, after herself, and many other gods marveled at its beauty. One of them thought of companions in the cosmos for the Sun, and created planets, including Orskideal, which started out completely barren of any intelligent life. That was until Sunnaria thought of Humans, and the planet worked itself to the bone, making bigger organisms which turned from fish, to reptiles, to apes until finally humans were created, precisely as Sunnaria imagined them. The sacred text says—'

Akira kept on reading, enraptured by the universe of Orskideal as the hours ticked by, and the line moved slowly to the edge of the platform. He got to the front just as he was reading about the world's Magic Triangle, having a lot more fun than he expected.

'A bit heavy on the worldbuilding, but this is pretty interesting.' Akira thought to himself, his eyes still glued to the pages. 'I have to praise Shinichi when I see him again. I never thought—'

Akira got cut off as he felt a sharp impact on his lower back. He tumbled forward and fell off the platform, face-planting on the train track. The pages of Shinichi's manuscript scattered along the wind, as onlookers stare shocked at the boy who just fell. The distorted sound of a horn and the clanking of metal approached, getting louder and louder, as Akira barely propped himself up to look around. From a distance, he could spot someone in a suit running from where he was standing before, as he tried to crawl away until—

Pain.

His legs were crushed by the train. The wheels cut his body in half, and he watched in shock the organs spilling from his body. He started clawing at the floor, his hands being coated crimson as he tried desperately to push his stomach, intestines, and other innards back into his body, clinging onto dear life as he heard screaming from the people in the platform. His blood paints the track red as his eyes go blank, his arms falling to the side.
.
.
.
'Wake up, little lamb.' A caring, motherly voice echoes in Akira's mind, feeling like a warm hug enveloping his troubled brain. 'You still have so much to do.'