Tatsuhiko Takimoto - Welcome to the NHK!

Putting several feet between us, Misaki swung around the box cutter, threatening me.

“Aren’t you disgusted? Disgusted because the person you came all this way to save really is crazy? There’s nothing I can do about that, though, Satou. I’m sure you were thinking something along those lines, right? Like, you wanted to show how cool you are by saving some crazy girl about to commit suicide. That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it? But it’s impossible. It’s impossible!”

With the moon at her back, it was hard to see her, so I couldn’t tell what expression she wore. Though it sounded like a farce, it wasn’t. That much seemed certain. I asked her seriously, “If I told you I’m deeply in love with you, what would you do?”

“I wouldn’t do anything. I’m finished. I mean, you’re just a hikikomori to begin with, Satou. And you look like you’d change your mind quickly. Besides, in actuality, you don’t like me at all, right? If someone won’t be mine from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, it’s better for me to die. It’s not like my desires can be granted by just anyone. I always knew this. And that’s why, either way, I just need to die.”

“I like you! I love you! Please, don’t die!”

“Ha ha ha. You’re so funny, Satou. But it’s no use. I’m going to die!”

Our dialogue was somehow very much like a shoujo manga.

Still, I knew that words like “love” and “hate” probably weren’t that important. The problem likely lay in a deeper, more fundamental place. I thought that I should try my best to explain this to her. I should somehow put it into words for Misaki. However, the words would slip away at once. The second I pronounced them, they would lose all meaning.

I just didn’t understand. What should I do? What did I want to do?

What was I thinking…? It didn’t really matter if she died. That’s what I thought.

It’s all the same in the end. The only difference is whether death comes sooner or later. Even if I do keep living, there will he only more suffering and more hardship. There’s no meaning to it. There’s no meaning to life. It would he better to die. This was a thoroughly logical conclusion that no one could refute.

At least, I couldn’t refute it. In fact, I doubted that anyone was less suited to the role of convincing someone else to give up on suicide than I was.

“It’s not right.” I kept saying these ridiculous things. “Don’t say you’re going to die.”

All the words sounded artificial.

Deciding to rely on force, I stepped toward Misaki, who was still swinging the box cutter around. She backed up. Ignoring her wild movements, I lunged forward and reached out my right hand. Just before my hand touched Misaki’s body, the blade of the box cutter sliced open my palm. A second later, blood began to flow. It soaked into the snow.

It hurt, but the pain was wonderful.

Misaki stared at the bloody box cutter, a dreamy expression on her face. I gave her a smile.

Misaki looked as though she were also about to smile.

The wind blew, and powdered snow danced upward.

Finally, I understood. I knew what I needed to do: I would keep this girl alive. I would save her.

How? Does a hikikomori like me have the power to do things for others? Wasn’t that kind of thing impossible? Shouldn’t I know my place? Well?

Yet somewhere, there had to be a wonderful solution. I truly believed this. There had to be a way for everything to work out. There had to be a way to fulfill Misaki’s wishes and my own hopes. Surely, I already knew the answer.

I would erase her pain and make it possible for her to live on, laughing and happy. I would give her the vitality to make it until tomorrow, give her the strength to live. The method—I had to know it already, somehow.

Once, shed said to me, “If that type of bad God did exist, then we could go on living in good health. If we could push the responsibility for our misery onto God, then we would have that much more peace of mind, wouldn’t we?

“If I could believe in God, I could become happy. Even if God is a bad guy, I know I could become happy. The problem is… the problem is I have a poor imagination, so I can’t believe in God very easily. Look, couldn’t He create some really showy miracle for me, just like He does in the Bible?”

She wanted to believe in a God, but her God was a villain. He was the main instigator of all evil. If she could believe in the existence of someone so evil, Misaki had said that she could keep on living. If a miracle occurred in front of her, it would prove the existence of this villain. She had said that, in that case, she would be able to keep on living. I’ll grant your wish!

The method was unfathomably difficult, terrible, and likely would require an enormous sacrifice. That, itself, however, was what I desired. To sacrifice myself to save the heroine would be the noblest act I could perform.

Ah, I wanted to brag to Yamazaki, I’m living right now, this very moment, burning out my life in a wonderful manner. I truly feel alive. I wanted to hold my head high with pride and brag to him.

It was true, looking at it objectively, that this was quite a dramatic night. A girl swinging a knife around and me trying to stop that girl from committing suicide. It was all rather moving. Given that fact, the words should come pouring forth. In this situation, I should be able to say something eloquent.

Misaki was trembling. I probably was trembling, too. I was frightened, so I tried to bolster my courage.

Memories from my twenty-two years passed through my mind. I realized that I had existed for this moment, when I would do whatever I could—anything I could—to keep this girl alive. It was probably my life’s mission. If not, then there was no meaning… No meaning for my having lived up until now, no meaning in living and then dying. At that instant, I understood everything. I knew everything, and everything was connected.

I would help Misaki, who was shaking with terror. I would give my life to help her. This kind of situation must have been what I’d desired all along. The flags that guided me toward the ending all had unfurled. [37] In Japanese erotic games, you have to go to the right “flags”, or key scenes, to get any specific ending. My dialog, leading toward this ending, was all that remained to set this scene into motion. Because of that, I would stand up and face it. Misaki could find a reason to live. It would be a happy ending.

I was scared. Please, help me…

Even so, I gathered my courage and embraced the trembling Misaki. “It’s not your fault, Misaki.”

I hugged her with all my strength and whispered into her ear, “It’s not your fault at all, Misaki. Not a single part is your fault.”

She was slight, thin. Shaking, she clung to me, and the darkness surrounded the two of us.

The wind was strong that night. Snow fell lightly. The stillness grew deeper. Why were we so sad? Why were we so lonely? Do you know the reason? Oh, I understand. It’s because we’re about to part, about to say farewell. That’s why we’re trembling. We’re forever alone, and we’re forever lonely. That’s how it always is, the way it’s supposed to be. Everyone is like this, so don’t hate yourself. Don’t hate yourself. There are other things you should hate. You need to know that.

“That’s right, there are bad people. There are people who’ve hurt you, Misaki.”

There's no need for you to be sad. No need at all. Why must you be sad? If you always had to live in pain, lonely and suffering, that would be irrational. It would be strange, wouldn’t it? That’s just nonsense. That’s why there has to be someone, somewhere, behind all this. A villain who forces you to suffer.