The sun was sinking rapidly, turning the sky into a bruised palette of purple and orange, a stark contrast to the drab grey of Kenzuki's daily life. He had changed out of his itching academy uniform into a faded green hoodie that smelled faintly of old laundry detergent and despair. He stepped out into the crisp evening air, pulling the hoodie strings tight and shoving his hands deep into the front pocket.
This Shit is So Peaceful, Kenzuki thought, his inner monologue slowing down to match the leisurely pace of his stroll. No delinquents, no teachers droning on about economic collapse, no Aris looking at me with those confusing purple eyes. This is one of the best Strollings I have had in, well, ever. If only I could live in this moment forever. Unfortunately, the universe hates me, and tomorrow is Wednesday.
He walked along the winding path of the local park, watching the sunset reflect off the calm pond. The sound of distant traffic was muted, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant, rhythmic chirping of crickets.
Enjoy the environment... enjoy the solitude... He tried to meditate, or at least mimic what he thought meditation felt like. It's the simple things. Breathing air. Not being punched. The usual stuff.
Until, of course, the universe decided to remind him of its existence.
Loud, frantic barking broke the silence, followed by the sound of something heavy crashing through the bushes.
Kenzuki sighed, the sound dragging out of him like a heavy anchor. "Reality."
He stopped walking and looked down at his right hand. Now that the adrenaline of the alleyway fight had finally dissipated, a dull ache was settling into his knuckles and forearm.
And I just realized my hand hurts a little because the thing I swang wasn't just a chair leg, but a Whole damn Chair... He remembered the splintery impact, the way his muscles had screamed at the sudden effort. No wonder I feel like I did a thousand pushups. Good luck surviving, Goro. Or don't. Actually, don't die. I don't want to be a murderer on top of being a loser. That's too much paperwork.
He continued walking, trying to ignore the throbbing in his hand. The park path was narrow, and a figure was walking toward him from the opposite direction. It was a tall, slender figure with unmistakable orange, messy hair.
"Hey, Goddomori-San! I didn't expect to see you here."
Kenzuki squinted against the fading light. "Who the Fuck Are You?"
The figure stopped, stumbling slightly in disbelief. The streetlights had just turned on, illuminating his face.
"EHH!? IT'S ME! HITASHI MONOKI from Class 2B."
Kenzuki stared at him, his face completely expressionless. He took a slow breath, letting it out with a quiet hum.
"Oh... Monoki-San."
Hitashi looked genuinely wounded, clutching his chest as if Kenzuki had just stabbed him with a metaphorical knife.
"I'm sad that you don't even recognize me!" Hitashi protested, his voice high-pitched with dramatic flair. "And that's all of your reaction? 'Oh... Monoki-San.' That's the laziest Reaction ever! I'm in your class! I sit three rows in front of you!"
"That's who I'm," Kenzuki replied, unaffected by Hitashi's theatrics. "A Lazy side character with a Weird name. I don't pay attention to main characters. It's bad for my health."
Hitashi blinked, then suddenly burst into a bright, sincere smile that made Kenzuki uncomfortable just looking at it.
"You are not a side character!" Hitashi asserted, patting Kenzuki on the shoulder—a bit too hard for Kenzuki's aching arm. "You are the Guy who Sits Alone! A Loner! But Kind! I saw you earlier! You took that lunchbox from Aris! That was so nice of you, Kenzuki-san!"
Is that an insult or a compliment? Kenzuki thought, trying to decipher if he was being praised for being a scavenger or for being kind. I honestly can't tell. With Hitashi, everything is a compliment, even if it's a criticism.
"Whatever you say, Monoki-San," Kenzuki said, shifting to keep walking.
"Hey, walking alone is boring!" Hitashi insisted, falling into step beside him. "Let's walk together! I was just enjoying the sunset, but it's better with company!"
As they walked, Hitashi continued to talk, chatting about the day's lessons, the upcoming school festival, and how difficult it was to choose which club to join. Kenzuki listened passively, offering small hums and nods, his inner monologue working overtime.
Now I know why he was so popular back in my first year days, Kenzuki thought, watching Hitashi greet a stray cat with genuine affection. He's a genuinely good guy. A bit too optimistic, a bit too loud, a bit too... everything. But good. He's the kind of guy who actually has a future. Not like me.
Hitashi, meanwhile, was thinking about Kenzuki.
He's quiet... but not in a shy way, Hitashi thought, observing Kenzuki's cynical expression. He seems sad, or maybe just really tired. And he keeps looking at his hand. Did he hurt himself? Maybe I should ask... no, he seems like he wants to be left alone. But walking alone is so sad! I have to make him smile at least once.
They reached the park exit, where their paths diverged.
"Well, this is my stop!" Hitashi said, giving a energetic wave. "See you tomorrow, Kenzuki-san! Let's sit together at lunch sometime!"
Kenzuki gave a slow, lazy nod. "Sure, Monoki-San. See ya."
He watched Hitashi walk away, a lingering feeling of mild annoyance mixed with strange respect. Then, he turned and began the walk back to his apartment, the ache in his hand a constant reminder of the day's absurdity.
Back in his apartment, the silence was suffocatingly familiar. Kenzuki dropped his bag, threw his hoodie onto a chair, and went straight to the kitchenette. The fridge was almost empty, save for a carton of eggs and a bottle of soy sauce.
He grabbed a frying pan, placed it on the stove, and cracked one egg into it. He watched it sizzle, then added a generous pinch of salt. He flipped it, leaving it partially raw, just the way he liked it.
He sat on his futon, the pan on his lap, and ate directly from it.
"Nice."
One egg. A little salt. Not bad, he thought, staring at the walrus-shaped water stain on the wall. Better than the mayonnaise sandwich, anyway. I survived today. Tomorrow, I just have to survive until Wednesday. The goal is simple. Keep doing nothing. Keep being a loser. It's the only way to be happy.
He finished his dinner, washed the pan with a single, aggressive swipe of a sponge, and crawled back onto his futon.
To be continued.