The crestfallen Toshiro Okumori.

trigger warning: depression, suicide, and self-harm are in this chapter.

Toshiro Okumori

I rest a cigarette in between my lips and inhale, allowing the nicotine inside the paper wrapping to coat my lungs. With it inside my throat, I held my breath to let the vapor rest in my mouth, until exhaling it out with a sigh. I repeated this process for four minutes- inhaling the smoke, then pouring it out from either my nose or my mouth, over and over again.

“Smoking is bad for you! You mustn't do it!”

I know.

You’ll die!

I know that, too.

I took in another puff with ease.

If I die, then so be it. It’s more of a blessing than a curse if I died, really. I’d choose smoking myself to death rather than continuing to walk in this nightmare that’s, unfortunately, a reality. It benefits people, too. There’s no risk in dying because I know that I’m no one special.

It’s a win-win situation. How can I ignore that?

I’ve always hated my life. I never once thought it was the ideal, upbeat, favorable thing to go through. I never even dared to think that I was higher than anyone else. I believed myself to be someone who was stooped so low in the human hierarchy of life that I felt as if I didn’t even deserve to be called a “human” anymore.

Sometimes, I wonder why I was even born in the first place. I never had any “true” fun. Whenever I did, it was only a matter of time before it was taken down and murdered right in front of my eyes. It’s like everywhere I go, I’m always making things worse.

So, with that said, I began to resort to isolation. I believed that isolation was something that could work. I wouldn’t be able to harm anybody but myself. I’d only have to worry about myself. If anything was going to happen, I made sure I was the one taking the hit, not others around me.

Yet, nothing ever goes as planned in this world. There’s only limited time before everything comes to an end.

These few weeks, this plan of “isolation” has failed miserably. I ended up meeting more people, resulting in rejections one after another. Now, I have to deal with this guilt that I hide under my already shattered heart.

But, still, am I really the one to blame? I warned them- over, and over again. I told them that I was nothing more of a useless waste of human space, yet they perceived it as a mere joke. And when they finally took that advice into consideration, it was already too late.

You all kept going until you couldn’t satisfy your needs anymore and left me.

Not like I’m complaining, though. I’ll continue this ideology of self antipathy while you all move on gracefully in life and forget that I even was a living thing. I never deserved any of your respect, anyway. So go. Go and have fun- something that I could never lay my hands on.

I’m aware of my arrogance. I’m aware of my half-assed and lazy personality. But I can’t find a solution to it. I’m constantly returning to this depressive headspace, always on the verge of snapping and letting everything go.

When I had gone and shot my insults to Miyake, it wasn’t long until my brain was filled with shame. Usually, I don’t snap, but I assume that the anger had gotten first place instead of me.

I felt like a piece of shit that couldn’t do anything if his life depended on it when I saw what I had done to her.

I already knew that, though.

I’m conscious of my dreadful life.

It’s a humbling experience, really. Sometimes you sit in the bath, laying in the drifting water with a finger gun inside your mouth wishing that it was a real gun, and considering if you’d actually have the guts to pull the trigger.

Sometimes, the days are so bad that if I had access to a firearm, I most definitely would’ve pulled it without a second thought.

I’ve heard of people doing self-harm to cope, but in my opinion, that’s just a pain to go through. I hate the idea of putting harm into my body. Rather, I’d prefer to get it over with quickly and painlessly. Though, sometimes, I’m not so sure if I can hold on to that promise of mine any longer.

I put the cigarette back into my mouth and absorbed even more fumes, until pulling it away and eyeing the tip of it. It was ashen gray; crumpled and reeking of fire. I dropped it on the ground and put my shoe over it, then squished it and rubbed it all over the floor to stop whatever remains of flames had hidden inside the cigarette.

I leaned my head back on the bench and shut my eyes.

I’m back to square one in this plan of isolation. I haven’t conversed with anybody except my mother this past week. And even still, she holds a grudge against me because of my sociopathic stunt in the hospital. I expect her to get over it in a week or so, though.

Miyake still sits next to me, but she doesn’t dare open her mouth to me or even return a glance. All she does is sit there and pay attention in class— something I never thought was capable of someone who gets distracted easily like her. It just makes it awkward, honestly, but I think it’s better that we maintain that distance from each other.

I haven’t seen Shiori since the hospital either, but since she wasn’t there for my outburst, I doubt she’d really have any qualms about me as of now. Since she’s a first-year, she’s in a whole completely different section of the school building. I don’t even bother going out of my way going over there, anyway. Plus, I enjoy the distance we have now. Maybe she finally took the hint that I wasn’t a good person.

Kojima is someone I haven’t seen in a while, too. I assume he’s busy cracking up jokes with Iwasaki to fuel his desperate attempt at attention from her, but that’s not my problem.

Iwasaki was the person I haven’t seen the longest— in fact, I haven’t seen her since the cafe. I hope it stays that way, too.

Brrt. Brrt.

My phone rang. Already, I was a little perplexed, as it was a rare occurrence to get phone calls, especially at this time. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a scammer, but I’d also be hoping it wasn’t. I reached out to my phone inside my pocket and yanked it out and looked at who had been calling me.

Mom.

I clicked the answer and put the phone into my ear.

“Toshiro? Where are you? It’s late.”

“... I’m… Outside.” I answered while giving an agitated search around my surroundings.

“What are you doing outside at night?”

I peered over to the cigarette on the floor and became quiet..

“Toshiro? Are you there?”

“Ah, uhm… Just walking. That’s all.” I coughed out a hasty excuse, “Do you need me to get groceries again? I can get them on the way home.”

“Well… No, not really. If you want, you can get a snack or two. It’s just… I need to talk to you when you come home.”

“... About?” I lifted my eyebrows, captivated by the tone of her enigmatic voice.

“Just get your snack and come home, ‘kay? I’ll tell you when you’re there.” She confirmed.

This wasn’t usual, of course, and whenever a high authority says “we need to talk,” it’s always something concerning and usually never ends in the way you want it to. I sighed again and stood up from the bench.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll be there.”

I put the phone down, declined the call, and put it back into my pocket.

Past the trees, the windy breeze, the annoying grasshoppers, and the bristling grass, I made my way over to the convenience store and entered inside. It wasn’t any different since I’ve last seen it, and I doubt it’d change any time soon. It just felt empty, but it made sense since it was late at night. The only sound that played was the music that softly made its way out of the speakers from above.

When I entered, there was a ding sound of a bell, attracting the cashier who erupted from the back. It was the same old woman who’d been there for a while. She smiled at me and waved.

“Oh, hello, dear Okumori-chan!”

I gave her a wave and a nod. Then, I snatched some pork buns along with some mints and walked in her direction. I gently put them down on the counter and began scrounging for yen in my pockets.

“Where’s your girlfriend, hm? She was very nice! In terms of looks and personality. She seemed like a perfect fit for a handsome boy like you…” She teased while scanning my items.

I managed to tug out some leftover yen in my right pocket and counted it, then nodded to her again.

“Yeah… Um… We had an argument, I guess you could say?” I answered simply.

I didn’t want to explain to her what the situation was, so I just ended up going along with her assumption. I put the yen on the table and waited.

She took the money and tilted her head at me. “Oh? An argument? How did you get into an argument with that cute little angel, I wonder?”

I just shrugged and forced a smile. “It’s complicated.”

“Ah, relationships will do that to you.” She agreed. “Still, I think that arguments are just proof that you’re getting closer with each other. It’s a sign that you’re both getting comfortable.”

“... Well, don't arguments separate relationships?”

“Oh… You naive boy…” She smirked like a little kid.

What’s with that smile? It’s a little odd how young it makes you look.

“In a way, yes. But, if you really love them, you’ll find a way to compromise and forgive them. Let me tell you, Okumori-chan… When my husband was still in this world, he was the most handsome and precious man I’ve ever met. Whenever it came to arguments, I was so over the moon with him that I’d come back to him within days hugging him and begging for forgiveness. We’d always make deals— about what to be careful of, how to act during a dispute, how our tone of voice affects the conversation… All that blah blah.”

She’d take a bag from under the counter and begin putting the pork buns and mints inside them, all while continuing her beatific dialogue.

“The trick is, that you have to be willing to compromise to be in a relationship. In the end, I still love him. Sometimes, I even miss our arguments, you could say.”

That’s great and all, but… She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just an acquaintance. I don’t think any of this advice will help, grandma… Sorry.

She lent the pork buns to me with a grin. “You’ll get together again. I can see it.”

I really hope not.

I nodded. “Uhh… Mm.” I took the pork buns. “... We’ll see.”

We gave our respective goodbyes before I went home walking. I popped the mints in my mouth to remove the stench of smoke that still lingered in my mouth, and ate the pork buns to make me feel somewhat satisfied.

I arrived home in no time and entered the house. Instantly, I could see my mom sitting in the living room, on the couch, and looking at me with what I could point out as a concerned look planted on her face with her arms crossed.

“Welcome home, Toshiro.” She smiled tiredly.

“Hi,” I waved.

“How was your walk?”

“Um… Good.”

“... ‘Kay.”

We were quiet for a few seconds, which made me feel pressured to initiate the conversation again.

“So, uh, what did you need to talk about?”

“Can you sit down here?” She patted the free space on the couch with her palm.

I looked over from the kitchen and saw her demand. A little intimidated, I approached the suggested spot and took a seat beside her.

“Okay… So, you remember the day you went to the hospital, right?”

“... There’s a few to remember, you know.” I looked at her.

I already knew what she was talking about, but I had added a sarcastic remark in hope that it was something different.

“I mean when you got that “fever.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I remember.” I already felt down after the confirmation of the story.

“Okay, good.” She took a deep breath. “Well, it wasn’t a “fever.” I just said that so nobody would panic. I didn’t need any more craziness occurring when I had my child in a literal hospital bed.”

I turned to her now, bewildered.

“It was a panic attack. That’s what happened.”

Oh.

“Something triggered it. I asked Miyake-chan what had happened, and she informed me. It makes sense why you had it.”

“... Ah. I see.” I looked away from her.

“Have you been taking your meds properly?”

“Of course, I have.” Annoyed, I answered.

“Hey, don’t give that tone to me.” I could feel her glare. “Are you sure you’ve been taking them?”

“... Well… Sometimes.”

I saw her arms fall to her lap from the side of my eye, followed by a groan that showed indignation. “Are you serious right now? Do you even know what happens if you don’t take it every day?”

I lifted my right hand with a shrug. “What? That I can hallucinate or whatever? Yeah, I know. But it hasn’t happened to me, okay? Plus, it’s not like one day is going to affect me. I’m doing fine without them, too, so why do I even have to take them?”

“Because of your illness, Toshiro! What’s so hard to understand about that? You need it.”

“I don’t need them.”

“Oh, really? So what do you want me to say to the doctors? Do you want me to lie to them and say that you’re taking them every day, all while you have a risk of getting a panic attack or going into a majorly depressive state that could happen at any moment? Is that what you want?”

“Mom, look, I’m fine without them. I don’t even think they work. Seriously. I don’t have to—”

“Don’t give me reasoning. You’re not going to convince me.”

I turned to her now, a little angrily, but all of a sudden, I was stuck in a feeling of shock. When I had laid my eyes on her, I saw that there were tears that had been rolling down her pale cheeks, connecting to her quivering lips. All of a sudden, my heart had been pierced.

“Why can’t you just follow what I say, huh?” She asked, strongly. “I just… I don’t understand it. How do I even help you anymore? I’m constantly worrying about you, but you’re out here doing whatever late at night as if nothing is wrong with you. Do you know how terrified I was when I got the call that you had been in the hospital again? Are you aware of what can happen to you? Are you even aware of yourself?”

I sat in disgrace, not able to formulate any words in my head to answer any of her questions.

“Just, please. Please just take your meds. I want you to become better. Don’t you want that too? I’ll stay home if I have to. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re taking your meds. I can’t just let you be.”

She lifted her fingers up to her eyes and removed the tears away, just to reveal the redness back to me.

“You’re always arguing with me and always find a way to disobey my orders. The only time you’re barely even responsive is when I call you on the phone or tell you to get groceries. I don’t even know if you… You know… Love me anymore.”

I was at a loss for words. I couldn’t inch any part of my body to show any type of response to her. I only gazed at her weepy face with a throbbing heart.

“You’re always so aggravated. It’s like anything I say will make you snap. I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore.”

Finally, I urged myself to move. I slowly inched myself closer to her, until just planting my face into her shoulder without a word. She seemed to understand my unwavering quietness, and just rubbed my back with her hand.

No, mom… I’m just a horrible fucking person.

A really, really horrible person.