Tatsuhiko Takimoto - Welcome to the NHK!

“Please, have a seat there.” Yamazaki's voice brought me back to reality.

Following his directive, I unsteadily ventured deeper into his room.

Suddenly, something shattered at my feet with a loud crack. I jumped nervously.

“Oh, that's just a CD case”, Yamazaki said, “Don't worry about it.”

Manga, novels, videotapes, DVDs, plastic bottles, empty tissue boxes, and other rubbish littered the entire floor.

“My room is rather dirty.”

This was an understatement. I had never seen such a filthy room.

“Still, I'm really happy. I never would have guessed that I lived next door to you, Satou.” Seated on the edge of the bed, Yamazaki spoke with a faraway look in his eyes, paying no mind as I trampled something different with each step.

Finally, I reached the computer desk and sat in the revolving chair.

My drunkenness had worn off. It had worn off completely.

Not knowing what to say, I stared at his seventeen inch monitor. It displayed a wallpaper for an anime I didn't recognize.

“It's strange that we've never run into each other here, even though it's been half a month since I moved in.”

I half listened to him while examining the figurine displayed on top of the monitor. The model was an elementary school girl carrying a red schoolbag on her back.

Meanwhile, Yamazaki droned on. “This must be what they mean by 'urban disinterest' in one's neighbors.”

One poster affixed to his wall showed a naked girl who couldn't be older than elementary school age, drawn, predictably, in anime style. I looked back at his computer desk.

“What's wrong? Satou, you're so quiet. Oh, I guess my music was too loud, right? I'll be careful next time.”

On top of the desk, there were piles of square boxes that appeared to be some kind of computer games. They were decorated with loads of intimidating labels—stuff like “torture”, “wet”, “abuse”, “lewd”, “tie”, “academy”, “confinement”, “rape”, “savage”, “pure love”, “training”, “adventure”—things one didn't typically see. And of course, above the piles, was the nude drawing of the elementary school student. A sticker on it advised, “Not for those under 18 years of age.”

Once again, I hurriedly looked away, this time toward the mountain of manga next to the wall.

Yamazaki continued his monologue. “Anyway, I'm very happy, Satou. I never thought I'd get to see you again, and I really respect you. Did you know that? You did, didn't you?”

Picking up one of the manga, I flipped through it. Naturally, I found the nude form of a girl, who could be nothing but elementary school aged, along with a yellow mark for “Adult Comics.”

“Have you heard of the school I'm attending? I'm sure you've probably seen it in a TV commercial….”

I returned the book to the pile. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I asked, “What school are you going to?”

At my question, Yamazaki puffed out his chest and started to reply.

Without intending to, I rolled my eyes toward heaven.

It was several years earlier. We had been dreaming. It was the effect of the dim life in a dirty school building, beautiful young girls, and boys laughing despite the gloom. I, and everyone else, had been dreaming. In the midst of that surreal time, we all had been dreaming of a wonderful future.

Those were the days when we were always in the club offices after school, spending the slow time with the upperclassmen. We nervously smoked cigarettes behind a shabby, old prefab hut that looked as though an earthquake would flatten it instantaneously. We didn't have part-time jobs, we didn't throw ourselves into our clubs, we had bad grades, and we had no motivation at all. Even though I was a high school student headed absolutely nowhere, I was always smiling.

On one day, something happened: In our club office, where trash and assorted scraps littered the floor, the cute upperclassman and I had been spacing out. “Satou, what're you going to do in the future?” she asked.

“First, I'll attend some college … I don't really know what I'll do, but I should be able to find something I like while I'm there.”

“Hm…”

She looked away. Suddenly, she murmured, “Remember your recent plan to rescue that kid being bullied? It was so stupid, but you looked kind of cool. You'll be fine, Satou. You'll definitely be fine.”

I was embarrassed.

Time passed. She graduated. Later, in the same club office, Yamazaki and I sat there. I glared at my math book. Yamazaki said, “Satou, you'll graduate this year.”

“That's right, so you'll be the president from now on. Work hard.”

“It'll be lonely. Everyone's getting older.”

“Don't say that kind of stuff while you're young. Want a smoke?” Taking a cigarette out of my pocket, I offered it to Yamazaki, who took it.

Cautiously, he lit it. He launched into a magnificent fit of coughing. Eyes watering, he said, “I hope it goes well.”

“What goes well?”

“All kinds of things. I hope that I can continue this kind of happy daily life. You should work hard, too, Satou, and so will I. I'll leave with high spirits, and everything will be okay, somehow.”

Yamazaki was filled with both hope and anxiety. In that shabby club office, filled with the light of the setting sun, we laughed as though we were dreaming.

Then, I went on to college—but I dropped out. Frightened of my futureless life, scared by my foolish anxieties, unable to see ahead and aiming nowhere, I continued ceaselessly living my ridiculously idiotic life. I was beset on all sides by invisible worries. ,

So, I shut myself in and slept. I slept until sleep exhausted me. Spring passed, summer ended, fall came, and then winter arrived. Then, it turned into another gentle spring.

My forward progress to the future had stopped, and I was at my wit's end. The cool night breeze felt good, and I continued to sleep.

And then, one day, we met again. Yamazaki and I had met again. He'd been a weak, bullied boy, but Yamazaki was still a pretty good guy. All this time, we'd been inhaling the same city air.

Although neither of us could see anything concrete in our futures, we still were looking forward.

Even now, I could remember it clearly—us in the club office that I missed so much, the setting sun shining through the narrow windows during our innocent conversations.

“What's going to happen to us?”

“Whatever happens will happen.”

“I guess so.”

That pleasant, gentle time after school.

We had been young and stupid. We were worthless, helpless, and couldn't even have imagined ourselves four years in the future.

Having run into Yamazaki again for the first time in several years, I asked, “Where are you going to school?”

Yamazaki proudly puffed up his chest at my question and answered, “Yoyogi Animation Institute.” [16] Technical, gimmicky school for people who want anime/manga/ game industry jobs. Pretty much anyone can get in.

Life was so strange….

“What are you doing now?” he asked me.

“I dropped out.”

Yamazaki looked away, and an uncomfortable silence passed.

Finally, in an unnaturally cheerful voice, I said, “By the way, why were you crying?”

“I haven't been going to school lately. I didn't really blend in with the other students, I didn't have any friends, and I just started living alone. In despair, I was playing my CDs as loud as I could….”

“You've been shut in here all the time these days?”

“Th-that's right.”

I stood up quickly. “Wait just a second”, I said, and I went back to my own room.

I returned to Yamazaki's room, carrying beer cans in both hands. “Let's drink!”