Cold Glare

“I'm so cold, it's like I'm burning.”

The innocent thought formed in Getsurin’s head as he watched the others freeze to death. Once more staring at his hand, amazed that the cold can create such sensations. Fidgeting with his small fingers, pinching and pressing them together. Even oddly bending them to see if any feeling in them will return. All to alleviate the consistent wrests the body makes to stay warm.

“We won’t be here much longer, I just know someone is on their way…!”

The others barely leant a glance of hope to Getsurin words of encouragement. As they had little choice but to simply focus on their relentless shivering.

Huddled together as would arctic animals, knowing that any other option would be a faster frozen demise. There’s only so many thoughts that one can perceive in an absurd situation such as this. As each hour passed, one after another, so did the boyhood resilience. Freezing over into boarddom, leaving the only entertainment being the visibility of one another’s breath, trailing off to form icicles. Or pondering the morbid curiosity of why the deep change of color in their fingertips.

Remaining the routine to shout each other’s names—just to stave away the lingering fear of the unknown.

⨀ ⨀ ⨀ ⨀

As if the intensity of the cold translated into the world of the waking, a fast and forceful intake of air ran into Getsurin’s lungs. As if he had to be ready to rush away from something threatening—creating a reaction we only have when we need to be aware of our surroundings. Eyes wide open from our body's primal alarm, he now understands that the sensation he felt was from a cold reverie, his environment becomes clear. His body became more relaxed, seeing that the environment is his afternoon routine on the train home, and he soon noticed the white-knuckled grip he had on his bookbag, his fingers clenched tight from instinct.

Once again, drifting into the past.

He thought, glancing at the other passengers, developing a mild curiosity of what their routine memories may entail, if any. Seeing that he’s not the only one that needed a quick nap by strangers. Reaching his arms outward, releasing a long winded sigh of waking awareness, his phone stirs inside his chest pocket. Vibrating with a message.

Simple text message from Mom: [Surin! How was school today?? <3]

For a moment, the day was a thick fog, one that he didn’t have the desire to recall. He then turned to the blur of the city outside the window, as the day slowly returned to his mind. For some clarity, he adjusts his belated spectacles: dated not only in style but his eyes themselves are in need of improved lenses. From that quick tic of his knuckle, the fog vanished and the memories arrived:

“Getsurin, it's quite common for students in their final years to be a bit indecisive of what paths they’d like to take. But most students are able to write down some ideas on what that could be. While you… Haven’t shared anything… We’re here to help Getsurin, I hope you know that.”

“She’s right Getsurin, you seem just so… Directionless, no matter what we suggest—You don’t even show interest in the scholarship you’ve earned.”

“Directionless? Seems kinda rude for a teacher to say…” He scoffed, slightly twisting his face into mild frustration as he soon buried today’s memories.

[Same old same old]

He eventually replied.

[Okey dokey! I’ll see you at the end of next week! So get ready for some fun dinner dates!]

[Sounds good, mom]

[Bye-Bye!!! Good night!]

[Bye, night]

Getsurin retreated into another fit of sighs, rubbing his eyes and face. Ready for another nap, since the gentle sway of the train gave him the clear comfort from the day. Like being rocked in a cradle, he holds onto as if it were a guilty pleasure to fall asleep on a train.

I think I’d prefer the cold over this uncertainty.

The idea grazed his mind as the train came to a stop. Suidōbashi Station is the next stop? Koishikawa Kōrakuen isn’t too far from there… Maybe a walk will clear my head.

Getsurin’s awareness of this lack of insight into his own future brings another routine of frustrations to his growing mind. Not knowing how to spend the rest of one’s life is already a daunting idea, to then force a decision to be made certainly doesn't make it any easier to form any ideas.

“Directionless?” He scoffed once more, the word even tasted bitter as it went under his breath. He can be such a prick sometimes. Always talking with such superiority, even the way he leans against the desk is condescending.

That’s not even it. Defending himself in his mind. There’s just too much I can do. I don’t know why they want me to pick something so damn badly. The whole notion of picking out some career paths is so unnecessary. How am I supposed to know whether or not I’ll like whatever it is I decide I want to pursue? Nearly every working adult I know has some kind of complaint about their job. Even mom has her fair share of complaints, and she gets to travel all the time, staying in nice hotels, all expenses paid for—and you're telling me that I’m supposed to have an idea of how much I’ll enjoy a job based on what exactly? Other peoples’ experiences? Well guess what, none of them like their job. Not one. The only reason they put up with it is that it pays well, or good benefits, or their bosses don’t suck.

Finally bringing an end to Getsurin’s justifiably erratic stream of consciousness. The annoyance with modernity in Japan is a harsh reality for many on their way to joining the work force. It's hardly a secret among the masses that dedication to the most often dull world of adulthood has been on a decline as the decades go on. This tends to bring a growing frustration with more youth that just Getsurin—He just is the one that focuses on the resistance to be part of the world, rather than plan around it, or offer solutions.

I guess that’s what I should look for, something that isn’t insufferable to be part of… How annoying, I shouldn’t be the one that has to point all this out? I know I’m not the only one that sees this… Regardless! Why should I care even a little—when businessmen would literally kill themselves, rather than work?! I mean, really? We’re THIS close to a depressing Sci-Fi manga that’s crawling closer and closer each year.

Getsurin’s not so subtle criticism of his country’s government and economic climate is an assessment that many share. Kids just like him and professional scholars alike. Gathering an overwhelming consensus that most youth don’t want a good job, they want a promise. One that shows them that the future will be alright. Their future will be alright. Because all that Getsurin sees is a bleak cyberpunk dystopia.