Read SETOGIWA: A World On The Brink (Part 1)

A World On The Dawn

The warm spring drifted over the sidewalks of Kyoto, and the boy walked down the nearly empty streets. The humidity quietly swept over his short-sleeved shirt, and conversation wandered away from his ears.

However, he paid it little attention. He clutched the bag in his left hand and pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. It was a flip phone in a world of smartphones.
"March 2nd, 2060," the small screen read.

He squeezed his phone for a moment, but slid it back in his pocket.
"It doesn't matter anymore," he mumbled. He eyed the ground and thought to himself. "Is there a way out of this?"

Lost in thought, his head slammed into the back of someone in front of him.
"What's the matter with you?!" the man snapped.

The man wore an all-black uniform and held a stern demeanor. An assault rifle rested on his right arm, and a series of small medals were embroidered on his collar.

He held a cup in his right hand and reached for what seemed like a pistol on his belt.
"Oh, I, uh-" the boy stuttered.

He looked at the boy, then quickly eased his hand off his holster, and he slouched his shoulders.

"Oh, you're just a kid. Sorry about that," He let a brief chuckle before quickly resuming. "I'll need to see your clearance."

"Um, did I do anything wrong?"

"Not particularly. It's protocol."

The boy reached for his pocket and pulled out a card. The man checked the card, seemingly skimming through it. He took a long sip from his cup.
"Man, this milkshake is wonderful. You don't seem to be much of a talker-" he paused and stared at something on the card. "Sakatoro Zenatori is your name?"

"Yeah, that's my name."
"That's a pretty cool name," he said. "If you ask me."

He glanced at the back of the card and swayed his cup around. He then took a final sip and handed the card back to Zenatori.
"Where are you heading?"
"I was going to the District 2 subway. I was looking at the map on my phone, and I bumped into you."

"Oh," the man sighed. "If you keep going through here, it should be on the nearest left."
"Thanks," the boy said before walking off.

Zenatori walked straight and noticed a colossal barrier in the distance. It seemed to span hundreds of kilometers, encompassing the entire city. The barrier had a transparent gray tint, and the outside world could just barely be made out.

The barriers were put in place to protect everyone from the outside. Zenatori glanced across the street and saw a checkpoint at the barrier's edge. He squinted further, and a sign read:
"Exit or Entry: Permitted."

"No one sane would even think of leaving," Zenatori thought.

He took a sharp left, following the guard's words. After some more walking, he finally reached the subway.

He stepped onto the cobblestone tiles, looked at the subway, and saw a deep staircase marking the entrance—benches were above ground, and the humming of chatter was in the air.

He took the stairs, and, unlike the earlier scene, hundreds of people were huddled. The floor was concrete and had a matte finish. Several stairways with signs hung listed the district numbers, but Zenatori was buried in the crowd.

He managed to slip through the hordes and found a tall staircase.

"District 2," a sign above the entrance read, with an arrow pointing to the stairs.

Zenatori went down and stepped on the beautiful marble flooring. Groups of people packed the platform in wait for the train. Suddenly, a glistening white train appeared through the tunnel and seemed to stretch for miles.

"Just in time," He thought.

The train shrieked to a halt, and the minute the doors swung open, packs of civilians hurried on. Zenatori took a seat and shut his eyes.

"I think I need to catch up on some sleep."

The train finally screeched forward and sped up rapidly. Zenatori set his bag down next to him and yawned. Before he could rest, something awoke him.

"Hey!" a man yelled.

Zenatori's eyes shot open, but all he could do was sigh.

"Not this guy again," he groaned internally.

The man's jeans were wrinkled, and his red shirt was stained. He shot from his seat and yelled again.

"Hey! When are we gonna wake up?!"

"Sir," a passenger sighed. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a sleek blue suit and a neatly fitted red tie.

"I have a meeting in thirty minutes, and I nearly missed this train. The last thing I want to hear is your continuous blabbering."

"You are exactly what those syneji artists want. You're gonna let them walk all over us!"

"What exactly did they do wrong?" the passenger said. "Even if the syneji artists were bad, what is yelling at all of us on a train supposed to do?"

The man froze. His throat tightened, and he clutched his fist.

"You're no better than them."

A woman on the train exclaimed.

"Can we get this man off the train?"

Zenatori thought over the engagement.

"I've never been interested in this syneji artist stuff, but it can't be this serious."

The man yelled.

"You are all slaves! Slaves and nothing more! Fight for what's right!"

The passenger's brow furrowed.

"I've had enough of this."

The man then hammered a red button against the wall.

"Wait-" the man called out.

The minute after, the door thrashed open, and a group of armed guards in all black quickly grabbed the man.

"Those syneji artists killed my ancestors!" he said with a tear rolling down his face.

"That was 600 years ago, sir," a guard said, gripping the man's arm. "You're disturbing the peace."

The door shut, and the man vanished in the span of seconds.

The passenger exhaled and adjusted his tie, sitting back down. Zenatori checked the time and sighed.
"6:35 a.m."

He turned his phone off and closed his eyes.
"Hopefully he doesn't cause me to be late."

The train nearly fell quiet inside, only leaving the repeating clatter of the train tracks. His head lowered, and he finally drifted to sleep.