Tatsuhiko Takimoto - Welcome to the NHK!

Real experiences, real experiences…

When it came to real-life experiences I could use in an erotic game; I had no choice but to think far back into the past. I needed to remember that distant time, five years earlier … that fun time from five years ago … my high school years.

I closed my eyes and thought back. Doing so, I soon realized that those memories would move in an emotionally difficult direction. I hurriedly opened my eyes and tried to stop thinking about it. However, the vector of my thoughts, once given a direction, could no longer be stopped.

My bright, optimistic high school years … my refreshing youth.

“High school” suggests slightly bitter romances, and society generally agrees with this conventional wisdom. I, too, had been in a romance; every day had been filled with excitement, like in a love simulation game. For example, I had liked that older girl in my literary club.

As might be expected from someone in the literary club, she was quite an avid reader. Because of that, she was a huge idiot. She once read The Complete Manual of Suicide in front of me.

I had thought, You should stop because that kind of behavior is unbecoming. You’re cute, so why can’t you just act normally?

The girl hadn’t shown any sign of noticing at all.

“Why are you reading that book?” I asked her, feeling I had no choice.

Laughing self-consciously, she answered, “Don’t you think that suicide seems kind of cool?” At the time, she’d just had a terrible breakup with her boyfriend, and she seemed depressed over it.

“Hey, Satou. What do you think of people who commit suicide?” She’d asked me.

“I guess it’s all right, isn’t it? If people want to commit suicide, I guess they ought to be free to do so. It’s probably not right for others to judge.”

“Hm.” She didn’t seem impressed by my boring answer; as though deflated, she dropped her eyes once more to the book on her lap.

After school, on another day, just when I had gotten sick of playing cards with her, she said, “Hey.”

“What?”

“Satou, after all this time, if I died or something, would you be sad?” No matter how I’ve tried, I cannot remember how I answered that sudden question. All I remember clearly is that several days later, she came to school with white bandages wrapped around her slender wrists.

Come on, give me a break. I have no idea how serious you were about wanting to die, but you should at least be a little embarrassed by this melodrama.

“You’re not just a stupid middle school girl.”

She replied, “Because I’m a stupid high school girl.”

She was the kind of girl who openly said this sort of thing, even though she wanted to go to the highly competitive Waseda University. Proudly, she’d drop non sequiturs like, “By the way, our problem is that there are no villains anywhere.”

She continued her explanation. "Nobody is to blame. Not Mizuguchi from the basketball team, or me, or you, Satou—none of us is to blame. For some reason, all sorts of things seem to be heading in a bad direction. It’s strange.”

“The only strange thing is your mind.”

“Don’t say such a cold thing to a girl who just got out of the emergency room. By the way, Satou, did you notice that even though none of it’s our fault, a lot of casually painful things happen all around us? It’s because a huge organization is planning a terrible conspiracy against us.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s true. A little bird told me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She was the kind of girl who liked to pretend she was crazy. Despite that—and because she was beautiful—I liked her.

A few days before graduation, she even let me do her once.

It moved me deeply to think that the payoff for having kept on her good side over two whole years was that one single act. It was randomly exciting, yet it was also sad. In the end, I was able to do it just that once.

I felt like I should have done it a few more times. But then, I also felt that it might have been better for me not to have done it even that one time. I wondered which would have been right.

Ahhh …

At a trendy cafe in Shibuya, I asked her, “Well, what do you think?” It was the first time I’d seen her in several years.

The previous Sunday, without any warning whatsoever, I had gotten a phone call. “Let’s get together,” she’d said.

I left the house without worrying about it.

We were to meet in front of the Moai Statue. It was a bit touristy, but as we were from another town, there wasn’t any real problem. As soon as we greeted each other, the girl said, “I called your family home, Satou, to try and get your current contact information, but your mom mistook me for a salesman and was suspicious of me.”

“Oh yeah, that happens a lot. Those solicitors pretend to be a classmate when they’re trying to collect a register of names….” It was kind of depressing that after not seeing each other for several years, this was our first discussion.

My memories hadn’t deceived me: She really was cute, after all. And so, I was a bit nervous. In addition, I suffered from the fear of eye contact and agoraphobia—neuroses peculiar to hikikomori. Even after entering the cafe, I couldn’t stop sweating.

Seated against the window, the girl stirred her ice coffee with a straw. “Satou, what are you doing now?”

I answered truthfully, without hiding anything. I had a smile on my face.

She laughed. “I predicted that you might end up like this.”

“Oh, I’ve currently been shut in for four years,” I bragged. “I’m a professional hikikomori!”

“Even now, you have trouble going outside?”

I nodded.

“Well then, I have something that’ll be good for you.”

The girl withdrew what looked to be a pill box from her small bag and handed me some capsules. “This is Ritalin.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a drug that’s kind of related to stimulants. It really, really works. With this, you can be full of energy whenever you want!”

She was still a strange person, even after all this time. Evidently, she was seeing about three psychiatrists. Even so, her thoughtfulness pleased me, so I took one of the questionable pills gratefully.

After that, I became energetic. In fact, we exchanged an unnecessarily upbeat conversation.

“You were so normal during our high school years, Satou … Well, no, I guess not.”

“And what are you doing now?”

“I’m unemployed.”

“You graduated from college, right?”

“I did, but now I’m unemployed. I’ll become a housewife soon, though.”

“Hm, you’re getting married?” A young wife of twenty-four. Moe moe…

“You’re surprised?”

“In a way.”

“You’re sad?”

“Not at all.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think?”

We left the cafe. The girl skipped around me, laughing brightly.

Then, she said, “I’m really happy right now.”

She boasted that she was marrying a hard-working, national government employee who was rich and, at the same time, good looking. Basically, she was marrying the best person possible!

“Don’t think too hard about this. Don’t think about anything too complicated. I’m happy.” Her tone was upbeat; it seemed that she, also, had been helping herself to that drug.

As we passed through crowds of people, she asked, “Back then, I should have gone out with you. You really liked me, didn’t you, Satou?”

“I really just wanted someone to let me do her.”

“I’m really sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t have spent all that time playing cards every day.”