Zukiechi

School. School has stressed me a lot. I will post the next chapter later since it's also finished. Don't mind the very long time it takes for me to upload, I know no one really actively read this piece of work I make. Happy anniversary, to my girlfriend and us, I dedicate these two chapters in celebration of our merriment. No more new art and illustrations in the near future, also.

Y'know, people don't bounce back that easily, no matter how many chances they get to do it…

see, it's easier to fall into a hole than it is to climb out of one.

I was surrounded by people who loved me, who reached out to me.

But I rejected them.

I was trapped by my own paranoia, convinced that regardless of what they told me -- they were all laughing behind my back.

And they did, yet everything down from criticism and downright insults spewed weren't just half-baked.. they were all correct. They were all valid, concrete, inconsequential proof. I couldn't argue against any of that. I have no reason to.

Shallow, I continued to indulge in my fantasies -- hyperbolical and whimsical fleets.

They used to correct me, all the time. I placed my burden and trust unto them; they were like codependence -- I simply cannot stand ground without them.

I thought, that I could do anything.

I thought, that if they just reached out -- and corrected me every time I fall and stumble, I would get back up.

But it was no use.. I couldn't identify the problem with myself, by myself.

I was welled up in my own ego and thickheaded brain.

Was it my fault, really? I didn't even consider a moment to think of that fallacy.

No, no. It's my fault.

I had such a 'smartass' complex. Of course I didn't think of it… because I'm actually stupid in the end. I just didn't realize it, much, much sooner.

They had to put it up in my egocentric skull.

I'm a coward.. through and through.

Even now, I'm running away.

Scared to confront my problems, I ran away.

I used to dream: if I just had one more chance – I could get back to normal... do things right.

But, it's too late now.

No one reaches out anymore…

Why would they?

I won't actually change.

And no one would notice even if I tried…

So might as well keep dreaming, right?

One can dream. Dreaming's all he could do, and dreaming is all that he did. Welled within him were anguish and fragility. His heart was empty yet. So, so, empty.

Yeah, he only clenched his teeth further, and curled himself up more on his bed. I can't change even if I wanted to, anyways… it won't always work out.

The world is an enclosed space, tight-knit and squeezed close quarters with everyone else. You're not special, no one is. The more one live their life, the more they soon find out that reality therein is but a husk of what's deciphered and transpired. Although, through those disappointments and exaggerations – only suffering, pain, and futility remain prevalent in everyone's minds. Regardless and contrary to popular beliefs, the opposite may still exist: the-you-know-what.

I can't live like this anymore. I can't feel a thing. I can't be happy. “Happiness”... those lucky enough to be blessed with them are only living the moment.

People are naturally pessimistic, the boy may have been led to believe. Now why is this so? He firmly holds his desires at hand, keeping them at bay and entrusted to those he've been close with. But once they're all crushed, ragged and tossed around – he stood shocked, and remained dumbfounded. How did he not think of this? Is it perhaps derived from his mentality, or was it because he had too much on his mind to notice? He can't think of an excuse, or anything of the like. Because inevitably, it wouldn't matter. Anything wouldn't matter. It's all gone, and it won't come back.

How do I smile again..?

Perhaps he was mad, perhaps he was gloomy as subsidiary of remorse. Regret was filled-to-the-brim in his heart, but nothing has been reassured or receding in his torment. His head was dizzy, and his chest didn't feel the same – it felt so out-of-place, and tightening. He handed out his wants and needs to others, yet he thought so highly of himself. He thought that he was a good man, a good character, and a kindhearted person.

It was as-if god had come prepared to punish him, to ravage him as revenge for others he manipulated and hurted. Simply as a matter of fact, he didn't know that he was hurting them. He didn't consider others' wants and needs, and their feelings below surface level. As a pessimist himself, he's stagnant and cynical, he's a hypocrite whom now just realized how wicked and disgusting his wellbeing and existence brought upon. Purely because of this, he thought everyone was naturally pessimistic – because he was never satisfied. He wasn't sure of whether he's actually using people or not, but the negative always looms closer than the positive. No matter how much it outweighs the other, he will always – and forever, overthink highly of the negativity. Now is this just a matter of perspective? He does not know, but basing it off of all his experiences and knowledge prior with humans, one bad comment can ruin the mood despite the good being a full tenfold beforehand.

The Southern region in the Northeast Country of the Continent – Osaka, as you call it, is a city in the Kansai region of Honshu in Japan. Osaka is located on the main island of Honshu, roughly in the center of Japan. It's quite a slope, some may speculate that it's hard to dote on whether it's located south or north of Japan. Temperatures in central Japan tied for a national record on Monday, as the country sweltered under a scorching summer heat wave. It struck a straight 41.1 degrees Celsius (105.98 degrees Fahrenheit) in the central city of Hamamatsu, in Shizuoka prefecture on Monday in the year 2020. This was fairly close to where Haru and the others live, which was determined to be Osaka. Obvious to say, this is only the highest recorded time given to tell the tale of how heated such places could get.

And currently, despite not being the highest yet as of late this time around – you gotta give it to mother nature, it's still fairly scorching as hell. So in high regards to the high moisture atmosphere and what seems to be the hottest date and season in a timely manner now. It's even more proof and evidence for the boy not to get up around this time to waste up on sweat. Why does he ever need to stop procrastinating and do something? More on that though, why does he even need to consider it? Given the facts presented, the gloomy and weak minded boy was thus trying to justify himself by only thinking of this whole extravaganza.

Such a bother.

He was yet, overthinking. Despite the teetering on about his hatred for that shamefulness of a trait, he too – is human enough not to be able to shy away from it. That is his weakness, one of many.

The high moisture was equivalent to the like of being vacuum-sealed shut in an aluminum foil. Thing is, food stored neatly wrapped in such compresses the moisture inside and keeps it warm. Even after quite a long time, the small jam-packed wrapping keeps it warm – but the food, whether be burger or anything, is hence soggy as result of the moisture trapped alluding to the scene. It loses its quality, yet it does its job right: to keep the food warm enough to digest, contrary to the ones stored in paper or cardboard boxes/wrappings – where it's cold to the touch instead. But, for his situation, it's not as beneficial as how it likely wants to be; it was hot. Too hot. And it irks him so much he wants to just get outside and experience the breeze.

Which is a total dumb no-no move, by the way. Outside is hot too, but primal instincts are screaming bloody murder for him to atleast act and socialize with others despite his outward appearance of glooming thunder.

The boy, being in his room, can feel the heat tightening and squeezing everything out of him. It's even more bothersome because of the rear window in his room smearing a small ray of light between the curtains that covered only most of the outside world. 

“Haah..” He let out a listless, and despondent sigh. A part of him wanted very much to just get up and close it up with the curtains, but a major part of his body was deprived of any energy or motivation to do even a simple task such as that. There's no need for someone with a degree in biology or psychology to identify the problem – is it a side-effect of laziness? Maybe someone with a degree can answer that… but still, he was quite literally and figuratively, depressed.

What could be the cause of this? What happened? Why must the boy be this way? He might think of these questions for himself to answer, and then – he might try to come to a solution, but it's always going to lead up to the person he is, being the problem. It didn't take long before he began scratching his head further as he spirals into damnation, and curls more and more. This state didn't come out of nowhere, so surely it had a reason to be – a circumstance that came to be. In the end, he let go of his worries and quietly went to sleep. As this anxiety quickly engulfed him into his slumber, he brought to mind the root and cause of this – the very day it happened.