How The Ice Prince Met The Hurricane

I've realised sorts - humans are like radio towers, and thoughts are the electromagnetic waves transmitted through the air from one mind to the next. The exchange of ideas and the creation of new ones - forming conscious and subconscious thoughts about significant and insignificant matters - happens quietly inside our heads. It's like a radio wave bouncing from one tower to the next. A little more than half of those ideas are exchanged verbally. Communication, they call it or discourse if used in an academic sense.

Yet my mind keeps going back to the thoughts we don't verbalise.

The ones we leave unsaid - the radio waves that allegedly don't get broadcasted but linger inside our heads. Those secrets, insecurities and anxieties - loud enough to be heard but never broadcast to the rest of the world. Everyone has them.

"Mr. Aragaki, thank you so much for joining us."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Arata is an intelligent boy, but I'd like to express my concerns that he isn't being very social with his peers."

"If I have to listen to another parent complain that their daughter got rejected by this brat."

I'm the only one who can hear them.

"If his grades aren't being affected or he isn't in trouble, then I don't see why you'd waste my time on this issue. Socialising with others is a waste of time. What he should be focusing on is his books. If you'll excuse me, I'm a busy man."

"What a waste of time, I thought something important was happening. As expected, having a child is a time-consuming endeavour."

For as long as I can remember, I could hear the thoughts of others.

I wanted to gouge my ears out as a kid - even in the small town I grew up in, it was overstimulating and uncomfortable. Elementary school was unbearable. Children have too many thoughts, and they think too loudly. A thousand questions raced through their little minds, and just sitting in the same room as they made me want to puke. It got quieter in middle school, or maybe I got better at bearing with the noise. It became a steady murmur in the background of my life - as natural as the sound of the wind or a birdsong. A regular part of my existence that I just had to accept. 

I had expected moving to the city to be different, but I hadn't expected it to be this much louder. It was as if everything was stuck in perpetual motion. Hundreds of people busily move from one place to the next. A homeless man snored outside the train station. Police sirens interrupted the horns of impatient drivers at the traffic lights. Music bled out from an assortment of coffee shops, boutiques and businesses. Teenagers gathered in their gaggles, giggling at their phones and chatting. It all fades into the broader soundscape of life accompanied by the murmuring chorus of their thoughts. A song that exists like static in the back of my mind. 

"Uhm, excuse me?" 

It was the voice of an older, mature woman - her heavy heels clicked against the concrete as she approached me. Her blonde hair was tied into a messy bun. She wore a light-grey office suit that suited her straight figure.

"You look a little lost," said the woman, twirling the tips of her hair, "Are you new to Aracadia City? Want some help looking around? I know a good bar not far from the station."

She smelled like a combination of day-old perfume and fresh liquor - the stench of which made my nose wrinkle a little. Her thoughts echoed, "He looks cute, I bet I can fool around with him for a while. He looks like an oblivious kid."

"I don't think you should be drinking anymore, Ma'am. You stink of alcohol."

Her fair features flushed with embarrassment, "Who do you think you're talking to? You got some nerve talking to me like that just because you're a little tall and a little handsome! Who do you think you are?!"

"Not the half-drunk adult currently making a scene because a student rejected them," was my response as I looked around. People were staring at her because she yelled so much. How embarrassing. "If you'll excuse me, I have better places to be."

Her thoughts were utterly repulsive, and I won't cost your sanity by repeating them. 

It's been like this for as long as I remember. There were always people who approached me with smiles and friendly faces. Their words, however, never matched their thoughts. If they weren't laughing outwardly, they were laughing on the inside, and it was the sickest, most vile type of laughter I'd ever heard. Rather than listening to that, I'd much rather be on my own. Walking along the city streets listening to the murmuring chorus of thoughts is more comfortable than having them swarm around me. It would do me better to be the background. People like me are better spectators than participants. I'd rather watch from the window.

"SOMEONE STOP THAT DOG!" 

A clear, loud voice that demanded attention from anyone who heard its plea. 

I turned my head and saw, at that very moment, an excitable brown dog scampering down the street. Most passersby had no time to react to the hyperactive canine - it left behind a trail of destruction along the sidewalk as it zoomed forward. The dog rushed towards the crosswalk, and the safety lights had just turned off - vehicular traffic would be coming down the street at any minute now. At that speed, the dog was running straight into oncoming traffic. I would know - I was standing on the edge of the pavement. I could see everything, and he couldn't.

In a second - time slowed down as I leapt forward and grabbed the dog by his scruff. He gave me a high-pitched yelp as I stumbled into the road, and I saw the front of a truck speeding towards us. I closed my eyes tight to brace for the impact and squeezed the dog in my arms. 

But the impact never came.

Instead, I was tugged back onto the pavement with force. I fell backwards onto my back with a heavy thud. It was as if the world suddenly sped up again, and my head couldn't keep up. Even though my eyes were shut - their thoughts seeped into my mind. 

"Bro, why didn't he get hit? It would have been so cool to see someone get isekai'd irl." 
"Why would he run into traffic because of a dog? Is he suicidal?"
"I wonder if I'll go viral if I post that on my socials?"

Their thoughts were too loud and nauseating - I could feel them staring at me.
I didn't want it. I don't want to be noticed. I hated when people looked at me. 
Why didn't I do nothing? It's always easier to do nothing.

"Hey, pretty boy open your eyes! Are you alright?"

The same voice from earlier - loud and authoritative. My eyes shot open, and I looked at the world around me. The figure of a girl with thick, unruly brown hair looked down at me with a concerned expression.

"Thank god, it would have been really bad if you had to go to the hospital," said the girl as she tucked her hair behind her ear, "Your face is really pretty and I can't afford to pay to fix it. Did I really yank you that hard?"

"This is why I'm more of a cat person, I swear. Mr Fluffy wouldn't swallow my damn bracelet and go running through half of Arcadia City. Ugh. Goddamnit, Fido." 

Her thoughts were just as loud as her voice - in the dizziness of my headache, I could barely distinguish between the two. The dog in my arms yapped, and I realised I was still clinging to the poor critter. I loosened my grip, and without a second to spare - Fido rushed off down the street, and my saviour groaned loudly.

"Well, f-" 

The beginning of a swear hung off her lips, but she didn't verbally finish the sentence. Her thoughts, however, were a different story. She said, "I TOLD VANESSA TO GET THAT DAMN DOG A LEASH, AND I WAS RIGHT! GODDAMNIT. I'M GONNA SKIN THAT GIRL ALIVE AND FEED HER FLESH TO FIDO." 

Her words were...violent, to say the least. 

"Hey, you look like you're okay and I got a dog to catch so I'll be going now," said the girl as she waved at me while running off, "Maybe I'll see you around the city sometime, Pretty Boy! Goodbye!"

As quickly as she appeared, she vanished and left only a trail of destruction on the path she ran. For a while, I sat on the ground dumbfounded as I stared at the direction she left in. In my eighteen years of life, that was the first time I'd ever met a human hurricane.