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…”