The Beginning of Despair

In the bustling district of Shinjuku, Tokyo, lived Nobuhiko Aki, a young boy with a passion for drawing. His room was filled with sketchbooks, pencils, and manga, the walls adorned with his favorite illustrations. Aki's love for art began in childhood, where he would spend hours perfecting his sketches, dreaming of one day becoming a renowned artist. His parents, Mr. and Mrs. Nobuhiko, always supported his hobby, proud of their son's talent.

As Aki grew older, his dreams expanded. He aspired to attend a prestigious university for higher studies, aiming to secure a bright future. However, the path to his dream was fraught with challenges. Aki gave his all in the college entrance exams, but despite his hard work, he failed three times. Each failure weighed heavily on him, eroding his confidence and filling him with despair.

"Aki, dinner is ready," Mrs. Nobuhiko called from the kitchen, her voice tinged with concern. But Aki didn't respond. He sat in his room, the curtains drawn, the once vibrant space now shrouded in darkness. The floor was littered with crumpled papers and empty instant noodle cups, a testament to his growing isolation.

Mr. Nobuhiko knocked gently on Aki's door before entering. "Aki, your mother made your favorite curry. Come eat with us," he urged, trying to mask his worry with a smile. Aki barely looked up, his eyes glazed over with a mix of frustration and sadness.

"I’m not hungry, Dad," Aki mumbled, turning his attention back to a blank page. His father sighed, exchanging a glance with his wife, both sharing an unspoken understanding of their son's turmoil.

Aki's increasing despair began to take a toll on his once close relationship with his parents. Days turned into weeks, and Aki withdrew further into his own world, his room a reflection of his inner turmoil. The curtains remained closed, and the vibrant posters on his walls seemed to fade along with his hope.

"Aki, why don't you come out for a bit? Get some fresh air?" Mrs. Nobuhiko suggested one afternoon, standing at his door. Aki didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes. She sighed and returned to the kitchen, where Mr. Nobuhiko was preparing tea.

"We have to do something," she said, her voice trembling. "He's slipping away from us."

Mr. Nobuhiko nodded, his expression grim. "I know. But we can't force him. He needs to find his own way out of this."

Aki's parents continued to try and reach out to him, but their efforts seemed in vain. He spent his days in darkness, the weight of his failures crushing his spirit. The once lively boy who dreamed of becoming a great artist was now a shadow of his former self.

Mr. and Mrs. Nobuhiko were increasingly concerned about their son's future. They often discussed what they could do to help Aki find his way back to the world outside his room. They knew that pressuring him might push him further away, but doing nothing wasn't an option either.

"Maybe we should remind him of his passion for drawing," Mrs. Nobuhiko suggested one evening as they sat together in the living room. "He used to be so happy when he was drawing."

Mr. Nobuhiko nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. Drawing has always been his escape. If we can just get him to pick up a pencil again, maybe it will help."

But despite their best efforts, Aki remained unresponsive, lost in his own world. He barely ate, spoke only when necessary, and spent most of his time staring blankly at the walls or his computer screen. The light in his eyes had dimmed, and his parents felt helpless watching their son slip further into despair.

Aki’s life had become a monotonous cycle of sleeping, eating, and spending endless hours on the internet. The once vibrant and creative boy was now a shell of his former self, trapped in a cycle of hopelessness and isolation. His dreams of attending a prestigious university seemed like distant memories, overshadowed by the weight of his repeated failures.

His parents' efforts to engage him were met with silence or indifference. "Aki, do you want to go for a walk with us?" Mr. Nobuhiko asked one evening. Aki simply shook his head, not even bothering to look up from his computer screen.

Mrs. Nobuhiko tried a different approach. "Aki, remember that art store you used to love? I saw they have a sale on sketchbooks. Would you like to go?"

Again, Aki's response was a dismissive shake of his head. His parents exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking as they watched their son withdraw further into himself.

As the days turned into weeks, Aki’s room became increasingly cluttered and messy. Piles of unwashed clothes, empty food containers, and discarded papers covered the floor. The curtains remained tightly shut, blocking out the sunlight. The room, much like Aki's spirit, had become a dark, chaotic place.

Mr. and Mrs. Nobuhiko knew they needed to do something drastic to help their son, but they felt powerless. They couldn't reach Aki, and they didn't know how to bring him back from the depths of his despair. All they could do was hope that something, anything, would spark a change in him and help him find his way back to the light.