“I’m testing my own talent. It doesn’t have to be an erotic game, but I’ll do… I’ll do something!” When he proclaimed this, drunk from sake, his future already was set as a dairy farmer, chasing after cows. I no longer could see how he could escape it.

At reunions and parties, everyone laughed and made a big fuss. Those events were fun, as was karaoke. Everyone had a good time and seemed sure that the future would be perfect: We could become anything! We could do anything! We could become happy!

These things were true—but steadily, very steadily, at a speed so terribly slow we didn’t even notice it, we were being run down. There was nothing we could do, even if we were in trouble, defeated, or crying. Every one of us eventually had some terrible experiences. The only difference was whether it would happen sooner or later; but in the end, we all would fall into some really unbearable situation.

I was scared. I was scared of all sorts of things.

I thought of my female classmate. Hey, I’m no good. I’m more than five hundred times worse than the public servant you managed to meet. There’s nothing I can do for you. I really wanted to go to the hotel with you, but it would have just made it harder for you. I wasn’t just trying to be cool or anything. Ah, I really did want to have an affair with you. It’s impossible, though. It’s obviously impossible. A pathetic hikikomori like me, who can’t even take care of himself, doesn’t have the power to make you happy.

Oh, I wanted to become a strong person, a person who could be relied upon, who brightened surroundings just by being there. I wanted to spread good fortune. However, the reality is that I am a hikikomori—a hikikomori, afraid of the outside world.

I don’t know why I’m so frightened, so frightened that I can’t do anything.

I’m no good anymore.

Next month, my allowance would stop. What would I do then? This lifestyle would have to end soon. Should I just end my life?

I shut down the computer I was using to write the erotic game scenarios. I decided to call Yamazaki and apologize. “I’m sorry, I can’t write the scenarios anymore.”

But he was already on the phone. I could hear his screams of rage from next door. “Why does it always have to come back to this discussion?! To start with, I came here with my own money. I’m not under any obligation to take orders from you!”

It sounded like he was fighting with his parents again. Everyone has their own problems.