A World On The Dawn
The world is imperfect. Not in the way you'd think. In the way that the cycle of humans is protected by the beasts that plague our world. Many die, and many survive. Is that what it means to be a hero? Is being able to throw it all away in hopes of protecting people the way of righteousness? There may not be an answer to my question. No, rather an answer I could accept.
Humans are emotional, social creatures bound by the qualms of our own sense of consciousness. No one knows the realm beyond, for they live in it. But I still ask myself this question. When will the cycle stop? When will the time rise for the beasts to be laid down? The time when humans rise together, united. The time when the ceiling of human potential is broken, it no longer rises. Suffering is inevitable.
Among the streets of Kyoto, a boy walked alone. He lived a life the way he chose to live it. Whether or not consequences are reaped will forever be a question for another time.
The boy was cold. Freezing.
He monologued in his own mind, for he knew nobody would understand. No. He knew people would pay no heed.
He walked the barren streets in Japan. He liked living in Kyoto, he enjoyed the views. In this cycle of suffering, there were still many things to enjoy. That's what made the world so complex.
The warm spring air filled the sky. It's humidity touched his short-sleeved shirt gently and quietly.
He rummages through his pockets in search of his phone. As he takes the device, he powers it on and checks the time.
March 2nd, 2030. 7:05 am.
He could only think of how far the world has gone. Almost like stagnation. A world of no innovation. The deceased's cries are eternally heard, for this is no world of peace.
He continues strolling down the street in search of something. The peace of it all. He wanted to run away, but run away to where? Run away and do what?
The boy continued walking, and as he did, he thought.
"Wars have resumed for the first time in 300 years. It seems that automorphs aren't a threat to humanity anymore. The only threat to this world is ourselves."
He finally arrives. Takumashi High School. Every day becomes more empty, as if life were a cycle of repeat. There was truly more to life than just this.
He looks over his shoulder and sees two girls talking to each other. They laughed quietly with each other, but their laughs were heard.
Even in the face of war, people found warmth. He thought as he acknowledged the laughing.
"It was said on the news recently that the United States is using nuclear fission to make a bomb rather than an energy source. How could you make a nuclear weapon?"
The boy only wondered what that would be like. Would a nuclear-powered bomb be stronger than a normal weapon? Only time will tell.
The boy approached the gates and swiftly entered. Nearly instantaneously, he is intercepted by a different young boy.
"Hey, Zenatori!" the other boy said.
Zenatori looked at him for a moment as if he was hesitating over something.
"A-ah, hi Kizuka..."
The boy palmed his face in disappointment.
"Zenatori, I told you it was Kuzaki. You gotta stop forgetting my name, man."
"Sorry..."
He hurried to Zenatori's side.
"Anyway, dude. You heard the government declared automorphs not as a threat, dude!"
"Oh, yeah."
"Like man, it's crazy they were a threat for centuries until, like always, we adapted. Given the fact that automorphs have supernatural abilities, humanity left it in the hands of syneji artists. Syneji artists control the world nowadays."
"Yeah, that's true."
"But, man. Koumiko saved us, man! The queen of the modern era! She has such vast isotonic force pools, and-"
As Kuzaki began his morning rant, Zenatori thought over his yapping.
"Ah, I almost forgot, my friend Inoue Kuzaki. I became friends with this guy on a whim because I honestly felt bad for him. We've been friends since my last year in middle school, and now it's our first year in high school. He's one of the guys people think of as a weird kid, but personally, he's not weird, in the traditional sense. He, for whatever reason, has an extreme infatuation with this syneji artist named Akito Koumiko, and often goes on long rants about her. I don't have any idea what he talks about, for I have no particular interest in that syneji artistry stuff. I guess syneji artists could be described as mages in a fantasy novel."
"Right, Zenatori?" Kuzaki said as he held a picture of Koumiko on his phone.
"Oh, yeah," Zenatori said, stammering as he exited his thoughts.
"Man, I swear you have the most bland personality known to man. Sometimes I forget you're human. But anyway-"
Zenatori could only think.
"Man, I want to leave."
After a few hours had passed, class was over, and lunch began. Zenatori took the moment and began walking around the school, getting familiar with his surroundings. He walked to the library and took a stroll around. The library was grand in size and had what seemed like hundreds of shelves. Zenatori walked toward a shelf to check out the books.
He saw a Syneji Artistry genre. He put his pointer finger on the books and slid it as he walked through the library. He spotted a book that caught his interest. He pulled it from the spine and took it from the shelf.
It was titled, "The Five Threat Levels of Automorphs and Humanity."
Zenatori thought.
"I'm not very interested in this syneji artistry stuff, but this actually sounds quite interesting. To be honest, Kuzaki probably just ruined it for me. Maybe I would've gotten into it naturally if I had never met him."
"I'm not very interested in this syneji artistry stuff, but this actually sounds quite interesting. To be honest, Kuzaki probably just ruined it for me. Maybe I would've gotten into it naturally if I had never met him."
As Zenatori looked to his side, he spotted another girl, looking for a book as well. Someone he knew. He didn't know whether or not he should initiate a conversation, for this was a library, and she just wanted to read. Nonetheless, he walked to her.
"Hey, Kurosawa."
Kurosawa looked at Zenatori and smiled.
"Hey, Sakatoro. I didn't know you liked reading," she said.
"Well, no one knows what they know, until they know."
"Huh?"
Zenatori thought.
"Well, that sounded a lot better in my head."
Zenatori studdered in slight embarrassment.
"Anyway, I also didn't know you liked reading syneji artistry stuff."
"Zenatori, you don't need to sound so embarrassed, we've been friends for how many years at this point?"
"Since middle school."
"Exactly! You've seemed to have changed Zenatori. It feels like your quiet now? Is there any reason for that?"
"Not particularly."
"Ah, I see. But anyway, do you want to sit down somewhere, we can quitely read together."
"I don't see why not."
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