I'm now in front of a medium-sized auburn colored door. It’s just a bit taller than me, no more than 2 inches. The house is quite large, with a front gate spanning about 12 feet. Beyond that, the space between the gate and the front door is about 10 feet. Next to the house, there’s a small blue SUV parked neatly.

It’s quite modern-looking, something one would see in those home TV shows where they review nice looking houses. Or, in otaku terms, the kind of house you’d see the main protagonist go to halfway through the episode.

You know, the blocky-looking white one.

Fumbling with my keys, I push them into the lock, the lingering feeling of the earlier pressure in my wrists still present.

I twist firmly, opening the door.

Earlier, when exiting the gym, I was met with a cold, unwelcoming air that might as well have slapped me in the face.

Now, in this environment, I’m met with a warm, welcoming air that embraces me.

“I’m home!”

The soft white lights spread across the room, greeting me in return, highlighting the various pieces of furniture scattered around.

I say, ‘various’, but I don’t mean it in the sense of a plethora of objects placed around. If anything, there's one black sofa, a TV, and a dinner table.

Yes, despite being quite the large house, there’s only a few objects scattered around.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, prompting me to take it out. A message sent to me reads: ‘Welcome home.’

I groan.

Is coming downstairs really that hard?

Removing my shoes and socks, I place them next to another pair by the door.

The cold wood against my feet makes me feel lethargic — like I could just lie down and sleep right here.

Sadly, I've got to make dinner.

Again. Boring responsibilities.

Going up the stairs to my room feels like torture. Every step takes everything I've got.

I make my way to a small hallway with about three doors, two leading into bedrooms, and one leading into a bathroom.

My room is located second to last in the corridor.

Turning the doorknob, I don’t even glance inside, instead opting to toss the bag into the darkness. I hear a soft thud sound, so I’m expecting it to have fallen onto my bed.

I then peel off my shirt and toss it toward the dirty clothes basket like a seasoned basketball player.

“Brutus! C-come here!” A voice calls. A voice belonging to someone who actively avoids interaction with others, leading to a weak voice filled with stutters.

Brutus isn’t my name, as well; she just refers to me as that. As if she were the Julius Caesar of this house.

I’m about to head to the shower, but stop, pressing my teeth together in frustration.

I sigh, heading towards the last door on the corridor.

When I open it, I'm greeted by a familiar sight.

The final boss of messiness.

The harbinger of hygiene.

The lord of indulgence.

Kairi Furukawa.

Nineteen-year-old NEET.

Okay, I’m being a bit mean, she’s not really a NEET. Outside, she's serious and hardworking — the kind of person everyone respects.

At home? A total gremlin.

You know that one saying, ‘A different version of you exists in the minds of everyone who knows you’?

She’s the embodiment of that saying. A perfect, upright, conventionally attractive woman who everyone looks up to, but when no one’s looking, she turns into… this.

“O-Oi, TF you look so confused for?” she says, barely glancing away from her screen.

I sigh.

“What is it, Kairi?”

Right now, she’s wearing a tank top, the side practically falling down her arm, and her messy black hair is drawn downwards. Her eyes are practically glued to the monitors.

One screen's got some kind of platforming game, the other... well, it’s a BL anime.

(How do I know? Two guys' faces just inches apart.)

“W-when’s the food gonna be ready?”

“Like, 20 minutes give or take. I just came back from the gym.”

"I starve, Brutus. I don't think I can take it any longer..."

“If you really were starving, you’d come downstairs, there’s plenty of food in the fridge.”

“B-but I don't wanna…”

I groan.

I toss her a pack of chocolate sticks.

Despite her sluggish and tired demeanor, she catches them surprisingly fast.

Yeah, I’m sure you’re starving.

“My hunger is satiated… for now.” She says, chewing on a stick, her face lit up by the screen.

“Pull up your shirt,” I say, closing the door behind me.

“S-says the DOOD with his bare chest out.” I hear faintly as the door closes.

Making my way towards the bathroom, I remove my pants, humming to myself a game theme that’s been stuck in my head for a while.

“Legends! Go!” I shout in English, striking a dramatic pose, body exposed to the world.

Now's the only time I can let myself act dumb since no one is looking. Other than that, I’m just… there.

I step into the shower, turning the valve on.

A faint creak.

Slowly, as the water begins to run, I find my cheerful demeanor slowly leaving my body. My hair sticks onto my head, bangs sticking to my face. The feeling of water running down my body feels nice, but the weight of my mental state is cancelling it out.

Responsibilities.

I hate responsiblities.

Every human has them, it’s their obligation to even live on this planet. To have responsibilities is to label yourself as a functioning member of society. Without them, you’d just be a deadbeat, bringing nothing to the world.

Yes, they’re really important.

I get it. I really do.

But honestly?

I hate them.

I hate responsbilities. If it were up to me, I’d love to just ditch them all. Not worrying about college entrance exams, not worrying about life, about getting a good job. I wish I could run away from them.

Again, I acknowledge that responsibility is important.

I’m sure these feelings are a normal thing many people my age go through.

After all, this is the age where you’re transitioning from a sheltered kid into a functioning member of society, a metamorphosis of sorts. It's necessary, but emotionally, I hate it.

But unfortunately, Responsibility isn't a subjective thing, it's an objective one, and no matter what, I have to face it if I want to live a successful life.


“I know that…. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier to accept.”

Right now, I'm standing in front of a pan full of oil, dipping breaded chicken strips inside. The sound of sizzling fills the room, with the occasional drop of oil flying onto my shirt. I’m too tired to even care, to be honest.

The boiling of the pot to my right fills the background with a steady bubbling sound.

“Yo, Kairi, can you turn down the temperature?” I call out.

Zombie-like, she shuffles over, her eyes still glued to her phone, and twists the dial down.

Then she plops herself at the table like a sack of bricks.

Am I really supposed to believe this is the same woman who earns more in a month than most people do in a year?

“D-damn it, Team 4KAZ lost the semi-final.”

I flip over a strip.

“You’re talking about the Go-strike one?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, I heard 2KZ was their best player, but didn’t think they relied on him that much.”

“H-his reaction time is OP, so it makes sense.  You’d think the rest of them would be good too, but they're kinda bad, TBH.”

“Mmm.”

“When's the finals?”

“T-Two weeks from now.”

“Huh, might tune in.”

After placing the last chicken strip on the plate, I turned off the stove and headed over to pour some curry next to both dishes. The curry is comprised of mostly potatoes and some onions for a slightly stronger flavor.

I carry the plates to the table, sitting down.

Dinner is uneventful.

A few failed attempts at conversation erupted from me, shut down by Kairi, who’s practically fused with her phone.

I'm gonna make a rule about no phones at the table.

Wow.

I'm really turning into a housemom.

“M-Mr. Tendo came again today,” Kairi mutters, eyes avoiding mine.

My expression tightens.

Mr. Tendo.

I only know him by his surname — and honestly, that’s all I want to know.

Overweight, greasy, and way too persistent.

He used to show up here while I was out, trying to coax Kairi outside. The kind of guy who can't take a hint — or a threat. He backed off for a while after I snapped at him to stay the hell away.

But now he’s back.

I feel something burning at the edge of my thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Forgot.”

I sigh.

This guy’s getting out of hand.

“Alright. Next time, tell me right away. I’m not joking — I’ll call the cops and have them ship him straight to Alcatraz.”

Kairi gives a half-nod. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease.

That’s that, then.

Honestly, I’m holding back.

If I let myself show even half of what I feel, it’ll just stress her out more.

But next time?

No more warnings.

Standing up from my seat, I’m about to pick up my dish, when I stop in place.

I suddenly remember very key, vital, and important information. Something that can save me from the burden of standing.

“Wait, you’re on dish duty today.”

Kairi’s head practically snaps towards me.

“Yeah, don’t think I forgot just because you took the calendar.” I say with a smirk.

“W-wait! We can settle this! Crush Bros.!”


I wipe my nose, grinning.

“Beware! Young Furukuwa!”

Typically, in any other household with real adults, that proposition would be met with a swift ‘no.’ But unfortunately, we’re both young and stupid.

This is the only way.

“I-I win! EZ!” She calls out, practically shattering my eardrum.

No fair. She plays this game religiously.

Then again, she plays every game religiously.

“Honestly, what was I expecting… I’m fighting the personification of no-life.”

“Cry more!” She says, dancing. They’re absolutely abysmal moves, but the confidence she has makes up for the lack of skill.

Honestly, seeing her like this makes the ends of my mouth curve upwards.

She was probably holed up in her room for the rest of the day.

Of course, I can’t say something like that makes me happy.

So…

“You were waiting for me the entire day, huh?” I say, a cheshire-cat like smile on my face.

A sudden pillowy projectile strikes my face with the speed of a bullet. I practically flip over from the force into the couch, my legs dangling in the air from the impact.

“Cringe lord.”

My thumbs up is an indicator that I agree.

It’s about 1 a.m.

By now, I should be tucked in bed, asleep — I’ve got school tomorrow.

But I really want to watch just one episode of this drama a friend recommended.

“Ah…”

No. I need to sleep, or I’ll be nodding off the entire day at school.

With a sigh, I shut off my phone, plug it into the charger, and let myself fall onto the bed.

I stare up at the ceiling.

Just another day in my life.

A boring, uneventful life of a normal student.

A speck in this world — just another person with responsibilities, trudging toward some vague idea of success.

I…

I don’t want this to change.

If I can wish for anything, it’s for things to stay like this.

Just a little longer.

I’m in my final year of high school.

Soon, everything’s going to change.

My eyes drift shut. Darkness wraps around me.

A quiet comfort settles in.

I’m standing at a waterfall.

The current pushes against me — hard.

I’m walking upstream, step by step, fighting it.

But eventually, I’ll fall.

And when I do…

I won’t get back up.

The morning sun pierces through the window, forcing me to squint.

I’m in the kitchen, hurriedly spreading butter on a piece of bread. Five minutes remain before I need to head out. There’s no time for anything fancy.

I rinse the butter knife and return it to its place before tossing the bread into my mouth. With one hand, I run through the contents of my bag — textbooks, notebooks, pencil case. Everything seems accounted for.

3 minutes.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I head toward the front door.

“Are you leaving now? It’s quite cold outside. Do you want me to drop you off?”

“If I wait any longer, I’ll be late, so I’ll just head out on foot. Thanks for the offer, Furukuwa-san.” I reply, slipping into a more polite and formal register without thinking.

Now, judging by the voice that just addressed me, one might come to the conclusion that this was a different person, but that was not the case. This indeed was Kairi Furukuwa, albeit with a more cleaned presentation, and her hair tied into a neat bun.

It’s like she morphed into an actual responsible adult capable of making actual decisions.

“All right, well, have a good day.” She calls out, checking her purse.

I nod as I leave the door, stepping into the cold.

The chill wraps around my body almost instantly. My breath clouds in the air, visible in short puffs. I adjust my scarf, prepping for the walk ahead.

Hopefully, today’s a snow day. Ah, who am I kidding, I’ll probably die before it does.

I exit the gate, making sure to close it behind me. I can hear the car starting behind me, presumably Kairi heading to work.

I begin my journey.

It's about 7:55.

The walk to school isn’t long — maybe five minutes — but I’ve made it a point to keep a perfect record. I don’t rush, but I don’t dawdle either.

Turning the corner, the sight of many students wearing my school's uniform fills my view.

Most are talking in groups, while others remain glued to their phones. That’s just how things are these days.

Still, I’m glad to see people connecting — even if through fragmented pieces.

The school building comes into view after a few more moments of walking. It’s not a fancy building, but it’s got… character, if that’s a good way to put it.

Shinjuku Metropolitan High School.

There’s a rumor that it dates back to the Edo period — something I’ve never believed, but I won’t go out of my way to dispute it either. Most of the staff are young, oddly enough. Teachers in their twenties or early thirties make up the majority.

There are some talks of renovation in the future, but that’ll probably come after I graduate.

Interrupting my thoughts, A hand the size of a gorilla drops onto my shoulder.

“Ohoho! Mr loner! I could feel the drearyness from all the way in the back!”

Jerome’s currently shaking my arm like he’s trying to rip it off.

You’re way too energetic this early. I vote we rewind the entire day and try again.

“I’m just tired, went to sleep late last night.”

“Pfft, you need to start drinking energy drinks, man. Seriously, they save lives.”

I don’t think heart attacks count as a life being ‘saved.’

“I like having a functional heart, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

It's obvious he’s already had one — or five. That would explain the way he’s practically vibrating.

Jerome Daniels is quite the character. A loud, strange, good-hearted guy. Like me, he’s a foreigner, so our reliability levels are more or less matching, but the difference is that he’s moved here with his family from some European country, as opposed to me, who’s alone.

Guess he actually has a good relationship with his parents, unlike me, who only brings trouble.

Well, never mind that.

The rest of the walk consists of me and him chatting idly, mostly things that weren't really important, like gym-related things, games, or random TV show spoilers I didn’t ask for.

Eventually, we reach the school gates.

I take a slow breath and step forward.

Here-a-we-go.