Exactly. To escape my gloomy situation, I had no choice but to rely on pharmaceutical power. I’d been pushed to the extreme of trying to stimulate my own worn-out brain with violently strong hallucinogens.

It’s just as the famous Tatsuhiko Shibusawa[6] said: “The enlightenment you receive through religious training and the enlightenment you receive from drugs are, in the end, one and the same.” Or something like that.

If that’s the case, then let me be enlightened through drugs.

I will gain enlightenment and escape my hikikomori self I will shatter my feeble spirit and replace it with a strong sturdy courage. I will place just a small amount of the White Drug on top of my kotatsu and, in one breath, I will snort it up my nose!

Part Two

Oh, how wonderful, how pleasant!

In my tiny, grimy, six-mat, one-room apartment, with a kitchen sink filled with dirty dishes and a floor littered with cast-off clothing, I actually experienced a trip!

The walls wobble and squirm while the air conditioner breathes deeply. Mr. Stereo Speaker is talking.

Oh! Everything is alive. We are all one world.

Mr. Refrigerator, good evening.

Mr. Kotatsu, thank you for warming me.

Mr. Bed, you’re the most comfortable bed ever.

Mr. TV, Mr. Computer, and everyone else I’ve met up to this point, thank you all.

“Mr. Satou, break out of your hikikomori life soon!”

Oh, everyone, you’re all supporting me? Thank you, thank you. Nothing could make me happier. Now, I’ll be fine. With everyone’s warm support, I can escape from my life as a hikikomori.

Please watch. Look, right now, I am about to go outside. It’s three o’clock in the morning, but that does not concern me. I’m about to escape from this room into the vast world.

However, because it’s cold, I must dress properly. Here we go. Put on my clothes, hat, and jacket. There, all ready.

Okay, I’m going outside. Time for me to say goodbye to all that hikikomori stuff. See you.

Goodbye.

For some reason, the door to my apartment didn’t open. Why? Why wouldn’t the door open?

Anxiety consumed me. Someone was trying to interfere with my escape.

“That’s right. Mr. Satou, if you leave, you won’t be a hikikomori any longer,” my speakers informed me.

So?

“Someone is getting in your way.”

The complete shock I received from that one phrase, transmitted by my speakers, was absolutely indescribable.

Interference.

Now that they mentioned it, I was reminded of the time when I first started my life as a hikikomori.

It had been a painfully hot summer day.

I stomped along, trudging up the slope to my school. Sweat dripped constantly and uncomfortably down the nape of my neck.