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  Argh, how could this happen? I alone had been left behind by the gaieties of spring. No, more than that: I was being actively mocked by the rest of the entire world, all of which was in high spirits due to spring's onset. At least, that was the message I got.

  I hadn't had proper contact with another human being for almost a year.

  I felt like I might forget how to speak Japanese if I kept going at this rate. I sensed that I was constantly getting farther and farther from my return to society. That would not be good; it would be very bad. If I didn't escape from my life as a hikikomori soon, I would be socially laid to rest by the world forever.

  First, I needed to consider my independence. I knew I had to find work. Thus, I recently bought a job information magazine from the convenience store. After reading through it, however, everything seemed impossible.

  Oh, it's impossible. Absolutely impossible. I'm a dropout from a third-rate college, with zero qualifications. That's me. If I were the personnel manager at some company, I'd definitely never hire a hikikomori like myself. In this day and age—when it's hard enough to get work—there's no way any company willingly would hire a useless person like me.

  Eventually, though, at some point in time, every human being, no matter who, must work. That's the fact of the matter.

  I couldn't just keep riding my parents' coattails forever.

  And I couldn't keep tricking my parents with the worst kinds of lies like, “It's all right! Even if I did quit college with only a few qualifications, I'll have no trouble finding work! Right now, I'm studying for all kinds of certifications, including the IT-administrator certificate, the TOEFL, word processing, computing, and abacus proficiency, among other things. Please, send me just a little more allowance!”

  Yeah, my time limit was approaching. It might even be just a few months away.

  Before my parents stopped sending my allowance, I needed to reform my leechlike personality and escape this rotten hikikomori lifestyle.

  I had to take down the N.H.K.

  Could I do it? Could I do something that reckless?

  The world outside my apartment was full of danger. Cars drove at fearsome speeds, cedar pollen floated on the wind, and random killers sometimes haunted the streets. Could I really launch myself into that dangerous world? Would I really be okay?

  Quite honestly, I was very anxious about it.

  Actually, it was impossible.

  A loser like me could never lead a regular life within society. A normal social life would be impossible for someone who, just yesterday, woke at the decent hour of seven o'clock in the morning for the first time in a long while, only to lie in bed, lost in thought, until afternoon. Yes, a decent life in conventional society would be impossible for someone who, after that, decided to take a quick nap, closing his eyes only to sleep soundly through the day and night until five o'clock this morning.

  A normal life within society would be impossible for someone like me, who tried so unsuccessfully to apply Freudian analysis to last night's dream. My dream featured indulging in an impure heterosexual relationship in a small room with the female upperclassman from high school, and my analysis suggested only that it indicated a subconscious desire to indulge an impure heterosexual relationship in a small room with the female upperclassman from high school. My final result concluded, “What part of this is a dream interpretation? You're just reiterating the same thing!”

  Impossible for me, who went to eat breakfast and, upon opening the refrigerator, realized that there was not a single item of food inside. Impossible for me, who then decided to ignore my empty stomach and take a bath, only to discover that I was entirely out of both soap and shampoo.

  And impossible for me, who responded to the horoscope read on the TV morning show—Virgo's luck in love is up today. An unexpected person may profess their love to you—with the pathetic comment, “How are they going to profess it to me if I don't leave my room all day? Huh? Let's see them try it.”

  A normal life within society was totally impossible for me.

  Argh.

  Maybe I should just die!

  ***

  Maybe 1 should just die. No. I won't die because I am a strong, capable soldier.

  I was determined to live until the day I defeated the N.H.K., even if that meant I would have to crawl along the floor.

  I would win or I would lose; I was still uncertain which. Anyway, what I required was a good amount of courage; thus, I needed to make efficient use of every ounce of courage in my body. For the time being, however, first I needed to make breakfast.

  After slowly rising from my bed, I opened the cupboard and removed the cup of ramen I kept for emergencies. I poured hot water from the hot pot I stored on top of the refrigerator. And then I waited—listening to the faint notes of an anime song that echoed from room 202, the apartment next to mine, I waited patiently for three minutes.

  Not that it was important or anything, but my next door neighbor, who had just moved in this spring, really seemed to like anime. While it didn't really matter, school should have started already. Was it okay that he hadn't left his apartment? I felt like warning him, “Morning is no time to be engrossed in the theme song to Ojamajo Doremi.[12] You're going to be late!” Of course, I didn't do any such thing. My next door neighbor's lifestyle wasn't my concern.

  While these thoughts ran through my mind, three minutes passed in what felt like a matter of seconds.

  My ramen was ready.

  Just then, it happened.

  At the very moment that I was about to thrust my disposable chopsticks into the noodles, my doorbell's resounding “ding dong, ding dong” interrupted the entire process.

  Who could it be?

  Naturally, I didn't panic. The unexpected visitor disturbing my breakfast was probably just a bill collector, coming to pick up my electric utility payment. As I would be in trouble were I to lose my lifeline, I obediently put down my chopsticks and headed toward the door, still clad in my pajamas.

  I flung open the door and quickly said, “Oh, electricity! The electricity, right? I can pay you now. Um, I'll pay right…”

  My words trailed off. Alerted by the smile plastered across the visitor's face and the subtle aura emanating from her entire body, I realized there was no way this middle-aged woman possibly could be the bill collector for the electricity company.

  “Please, forgive us for interrupting your busy schedule”, said my visitor. The woman's face was lit by the morning sun. “We're actually handing out these pamphlets”, she beamed, passing me two small pamphlets.

  Printed on the cover was: “Awaken! Tower of Druaga.”[13]

  A refreshing spring breeze blew in through the open door. Outside, the mild, April morning was calm and cheerful.

  Part Two

  At Mita House's[14] room 201, the door separating the inside of my apartment from the outside was now standing open. The woman on a religious mission and me—nothing separated us any longer.

  Then, I saw it. Diagonally to the right, behind the woman with the bottomless evangelical smile, stood another woman.

  Did they plan to use two people to recruit me? Were they tipping the balance of power, two against one? How cowardly!

  Then, further realization dawned. I noticed just how young the other religious recruiter was.

  For some odd reason, even on this serene April morning when the sun shone so gently, she shaded herself with a pure white parasol. Although I couldn't see her face, which was hidden by the parasol, I could tell nevertheless that she was young, particularly compared to the middle-aged woman. In fact, it was obvious that she was even younger than me.

  Holding her parasol, draped in a plain, light-colored, long-sleeved dress, she gave off a sanctified, pure air. As if guarding the older woman, she stood calmly, clean and quiet.

  Without my even realizing it, tears had sprung to my eyes, unbidden. This young girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen by my estimate, was being taken advantage of by some
idiotic cult. Just thinking about it, I couldn't help but feel compassion. I mean, come on, what is this?!

  I was sure she was at that age when she would much rather be having fun. The age at which she'd rather put on some nice clothes, walk around Shibuya, and try to have impure, heterosexual relations, instead. But religions have strict commandments, such as “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” She had to be suffering. It must be painful, painful, painful.

  I imagined her not knowing how to deal with her feverish body each night. God is watching, so we can't do something like this. But… but I… I can't suppress my excited emotions. Ooh, why am I such a naughty girl? And even though God is watching… I confess, Heavenly Father!”

  Those sorts of things, where commandments and sexual desire merged into one, constantly had to agonize her. Because the erotic book about nunneries I had read recently mentioned such issues, my reasoning had to be correct.

  An idea suddenly hit me. If everything I surmised was accurate, then in that way, the existence of religion might not be such a bad thing after all. In fact, surprisingly, it might not even be an exaggeration to call it quite wonderful, instead.

  Oh yes, it was actually obscene. Mulling it over carefully, I saw that its obscenity made it extremely wonderful indeed.

  For example, an image popped into my mind of a young girl being spanked by a strict, older nun. This image was followed by salacious scenes from the witch trials that would later occur. And finally, a violent torture session took place in a stone-floored basement. The inquisitor would say, “I'll find out if you are really a witch”, and then he'd prepare the triangular punishment horse! “With a whip?!” Smack! Smack! Smack! “Not yet?! Not yet?! Not yet?!” Smack! Smack!” Ahhh! I beg your mercy! Spare me! Please, forgive me!” However, no one listens to her appeals, and this seemingly endless banquet of indignities keeps escalating and escalating without end!

  Fantastic!

  Satisfaction!

  A standing ova—

  “Urn …”

  Suddenly, I realized that the older woman standing right in front of me was staring at me. She anxiously inquired, “Are you all right?”

  My runaway fantasies about the religious girl had hijacked my attention, not to mention my emotions. For a little while, even casual observers could see how absentminded and odd I was.

  What the hell?

  I desperately tried to shift to a resolute attitude.

  “Ahem, ahem.” I cleared my throat.

  Then, like a very, very normal young person, and without letting my ryes drift in the wrong direction, I gave the older woman as intelligent a glance as I could manage.

  Sure, I was clearly shaken. This, I admit.

  However, having already regained emotional control, there were no longer any cracks in my armor left open to attack. After all, there was no need for me to be so flustered. I had only to reply, “Yes, I'm fine”, as I shoved the two pamphlets back at her, and this whole thing would be over.

  But because of my extremely long time as a hikikomori, my ability to communicate with others had deteriorated to nearly the lowest level possible, which was the real reason I was so shaken by all this.

  Calm down. Calm down! Say it. Just utter that one phrase, “Yes, I'm fine.” Right. I'll say it in just a second. Yes, this time I'll really say it.

  Most likely, it had been so long since I'd talked with anyone that my voice would sound rather hollow. The words coming out of my mouth, at least, would probably sound hollow. It was even possible that I might stutter accidentally. But why should that matter, anyway?

  After all, it wasn't likely that I would ever meet this woman or the girl again. Whatever they thought of me shouldn't matter. Who cared if they found me odd or disturbing? That's why I needed to say it. I needed to refuse their conversion outright!

  Just say, “Yes, I'm fine!”

  I'll say, “Yes, I'm fine!”

  “Yes, I…”

  At that second, my line of sight casually passed over the word “Awaken!” decorating the cover of the pamphlet I held in my right hand.

  On that same cover, in black, gothic letters, was printed: “The hikikomori life is attacking our youth. Are you safe?”

  The woman, noticing my gaze, further brightened her pious smile. “This is our special report for the month. We're investigating the hikikomori issue from a Biblical standpoint. Are you interested?”

  It would be downright impossible to fully express the fear that ravaged me then.

  Could they see through me? Was it possible this woman already knew that I was, in actuality, a hikikomori, myself? Was that why she'd gone out of her way to give me this pamphlet? It was an extremely frightening idea.

  The thought that I was already identified as a worthless hikikomori by people who didn't even know me incited violent fear, chills, shakes—culminating in a confusion that was terribly hard to endure. Regardless, I had to calm down.

  I have to trick them—trick them quickly and smoothly. “Hikikomori? Ha ha ha! How could someone like me possibly be a hikikomori?!”

  Am I completely stupid? Saying something like that just made me look even more suspicious. I had to trick them more convincingly—and fast. I needed to trick them now or come up with some excuse … something. Come on, I begged myself.

  “Hey, th-there's no way I could be one, right? Right! I mean, no way could someone like me have spent almost a year not speaking to anyone. Or have a hikikomori life so extreme that I had to drop out of college with no job, no hope for my future, and nothing left. Or be in a state of abject despair. Or anything like those things, right?”

  The older woman backed away from me. Naturally, my thoughts continued to drift idly, with no end in sight. Someone, please stop me.

  “That's right! You're stupid, lady, so very stupid. And how rude! What do you mean by, 'The hikikomori life is attacking our youth. Are you safe?' Besides, if prayers could fix being a hikikomori, no one would suffer like that, right? And what do you people know? Even I don't understand it, so how could you people possibly get it?!”

  That was it. Now, I was finished. The missionary was thoroughly frightened. She looked ready to do an about-face and place an immediate call to the police. “There's a crazy person in the apartment over there! He's dangerous!”

  Ah, I am definitely dangerous. Quite dangerous. I even surprise myself! In fact, I'm stunned by my own idiocy, which caused me to overreact horrifyingly to an ordinary, everyday, pamphlet-pushing older woman. I can't take any more.

  It's time for me to die. Someone like me, having disgraced themselves so badly in front of a religious person, should die as quickly as possible.

  “It's fine now, ma'am, so please go home quickly. Take the girl and go away.”

  Oh, it's no use. It's over, it's over, it's over for me! Yeah, I'll buy a katana tomorrow. Then, I'll commit harakiri. Rather than exposing myself to any further disgrace, I'll expose my innards and prove myself as a warrior. That's right, I'll do that… I wonder where they sell katana.

  I thought of asking, “Hey, ma'am, do you know where? You don't? No, of course not. It's fine. That's not something you need to know. It's fine, so just go away. Yeah, right, right, I am very sorry. I am a hikikomori. A top-class, high-level hikikomori. There are hardly any hikikomori out there who can claim to be as worthless as I am. I'm unemployed. I'm trash. I'm a hack! I don't want you people to help, though. I'm fine, so just go away. See? Look, I'll give this back. I'll give back your two pamphlets. So, please, just go away as fast as you can, right now!”

  “W-w-well then, please forgive me for bothering you at such a busy time.”

  Hurriedly averting her eyes, the older woman turned abruptly and prompted the girl behind her. “We're going now, Misaki. Let's walk back to the assembly hall, okay?”

  Yeah, go home, go home. Go home right away. You too, Misaki, disappear quickly!

  Hm? What, Misaki? What's that expression for? Even though the old lady's already left, why are you goin
g out of your way to lower your parasol and stare into my face? What, you have a problem with something, huh? Hey, what's that look for? What the hell are you looking at? What are you laughing at? Are you making fun of me? Are you laughing at me…?!

  ***

  Indeed, it appeared that I was being thoroughly ridiculed by a religious girl I didn't even know.

  For just a second, she raised her parasol and looked directly into my face; She was smiling brightly. It was an adorable, mocking smile. And I wanted to die.

  Because I was being laughed at by someone as crazy as a cult-loving girl; because I was being completely looked down upon; and, more than anything, because her smile was unnecessarily cute, for those various reasons…

  I can't go on. I'm seriously going to die.

  Goodbye.

  Goodbye, religious, middle-aged woman.

  Goodbye, Misaki, holding your parasol.

  Goodbye, goodbye, everyone.

  I'll be setting off on my journey. I'll shut my apartment door, turn the lock, draw the curtains, and set off on my journey.

  Sitting on my bed, I stopped myself from breathing. I tightly covered my mouth with both hands to stop my breath. That hurts. It hurts. But soon, I'll die. I'd been holding my breath for thirty seconds. Surely, I had to die momentarily.

  However, my moment of death wouldn't come. The reason was because breath was leaking in through my nose.

  Nothing in the world works the way we want. Someone, please do something.

  Chapter 03. The Meeting

  Part One

  Despite everything, I had come back to life, my depression deeper and direr than Lake Baikal or the Mariana Trench from yesterday’s confrontation.

  For the first time in months, I ventured outside in broad daylight and headed to the lively city. It was such a brave and heroic act, it truly deserved a shower of applause from the whole world. I wanted to praise myself.