Welcome to the NHK!

by Tatsuhiko Takimoto

  “It’ll forget all about you soon, Misaki. Investing in cat food is such a waste.”

  “As long as I give the cat what it wants, it’ll be fine. She’ll remember me. Don’t be cruel. You’ll come to the park every night, right?” She gently stroked the cat’s back as it gobbled down the food. When it finished eating, it slowly strolled away into the bushes.

  We sat down on the bench. Misaki took her “secret notebook” out of her bag. And so, tonight, the first counseling session on escaping from hikikomori life began.

  ***

  Misaki had called it “counseling.” From the very first, her actions and words had been more than strange, so I totally thought it was some kind of joke. However, it seemed she’d been serious.

  “You’re late. It says in the contract that you'll come after eating dinner, remember?”

  “I just ate dinner—“

  “My family eats dinner at seven o’clock.”

  How the hell should I know that?! I wanted to yell, but I held it back.

  “Well, starting tomorrow, come a little earlier. Anyway, we’ll begin your first ‘escaping hikikomori life' counseling session now, okay? Here, have a seat.”

  I moved next to her on the bench, as instructed. Misaki sat beside me, turning to face me.

  The park at night… no one else was there. What in the world was about to start? What did she plan to do? I was a little nervous. Misaki put down the huge bag she carried and started rummaging around inside it.

  Whispering something like, “Oh, here it is, here it is”, she pulled out a college-ruled notebook. On the cover, “Secret Notebook” had been written in black marker.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “A secret notebook.”

  “Like I said, ‘what’s that?’”

  “Uh… it’s a secret notebook.” Misaki opened the secret notebook and flipped through pages she’d marked. “Well then, I’ll start the lecture now.”

  Backlit by the street lamps, her face wasn’t visible. The tone of her voice was serious, though. Not understanding what was going on, I gulped deeply.

  Misaki started her lecture. “Um… I’ll begin with an outline of the hikikomori. Okay, what causes someone to become a hikikomori? Do you know, Satou? Hm? You don’t? That’s what I thought. You dropped out of college, so there’s no way your mind could answer this difficult question, Satou. I know. I’m smart, after all. I’m studying for my GED right now. I study five hours every day. Good of me, right? Ha ha ha…”

  She laughed a little more before she continued, “According to the results of my research, not just hikikomori, but all emotional problems are caused by an inability to conform to one’s environment. Basically, because you can’t get along well with the world, various difficulties arise.”

  Misaki turned to the next page. “Long ago, we humans thought of many different ways to get along with the world. For example, take the idea of gods. There are all kinds of gods. Even in Japan alone, there are eight million… Huh? Eight million? That’s a little excessive, isn’t it? Is this true? W-well, anyway, there are many gods in the world, and it seems they ease the suffering of quite a lot of people, like those at a church gathering. Those people who can’t be saved by Gods think of other means. For example, philosophy.”

  Misaki began digging around in her bag again. After sticking her head inside the enormous bag, she finally found what she was looking for, “Oh, here it is. Here you go.” Pulling out some sort of book, she handed it to me. The title of the book was Sophie’s World.

  “This is kind of hard, so I didn’t really understand it, but it seems that this one book can teach you everything you need to know about philosophy. I borrowed it from the library, so read it by tomorrow, okay?”

  Nonplussed, I took the book. I was at my wit’s end over what to do while Misaki’s lecture droned on. “Um, well then, after philosophy, we have psychoanalysis! It seems to have been popular from around the nineteenth century, after some guy named Freud thought of it. People say that if you undergo psychoanalysis, your problems really do disappear. For instance, do you remember any dreams you had last night? I’ll analyze them for you. Tell me what happened in your dreams, Satou.”

  I told her. “A really huge, strong snake appeared. It dove into the ocean, and I stuck a thick sword into an apple. Also, I blasted away all around me with a black, shining, amazing gun.”

  Upon hearing this, Misaki withdrew another paperback from inside her gigantic bag. This one was entitled Dream Analysis: With This Single Book, You Easily Can Grasp the Depths of Your Psyche!

  “Hm… snake, ocean, apple, sword, gun…” Muttering to herself, she was searching the index when suddenly, she looked away, face reddening. For some reason, I grasped the situation, even in the pitch-black park.

  “Th-that’s enough Freud! Next, let’s do Jung!” Misaki yelled loudly.

  “Hey! What are the results of my dream analysis? Misaki, tell me what the big snake could possibly symbolize.” I persisted, but she ignored my attempts at sexual harassment.

  “Jung… This guy argued with Freud, and it seems he went in a different direction. Well then, let’s start a Jungian psychoanalysis.”

  “Hey, don’t ignore me. Wait a second!”

  “As far as I can see, you’re ‘introverted’, and ‘emotive’! You’re afraid of the ‘Great Mother’. Additionally, you also are fighting with the shadows. How terrible! To learn more, please read this book.” Misaki once again pulled out a book and handed it to me. This one was All About Jung, Explained by Manga!

  My head was starting to hurt, yet Misaki’s lecture kept going. And going. From Jung to Adler to Lacan. “I don’t understand Lacan! I just can’t lock on!”

  I was stunned that she could make this horrific pun, smiling all the while. I wanted to go back to my room. As if noticing my reaction, Misaki boldly changed direction. “Oh, I’m sorry for talking about all this difficult stuff. It seems that you really aren’t suited to these academic discussions, after all, Satou. That’s okay, though. We still have tomorrow.”

  “Huh?”

  “We’re people, so it’s painful.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “I feel bad for you, experiencing such troubles. Let’s look up as we move forward, though. You’re fine the way you are. You have dreams, so you’ll be all right. You’re not alone. If you keep walking, you’ll find your path. Everyone is cheering for you. As you do your best, you shine. You’ll succeed if you keep moving ahead with positive thinking; so, let’s walk toward tomorrow together. The future is bright. We’re people, we’re people, we’re people…”

  Pulling Misaki’s bag out of her hands, I upended it. A load of books avalanched onto the ground: Public Health Service paperbacks, Intelligent Living paperbacks. Quick Introduction to Psychoanalysis, Complete Mental Illness Manual, The Book to Read When You Are Stuck in Life, The Rules for Success in Life, Murphy’s Ghost, The Cerebral Revolution, Mitsuo, Mitsuru, etc., etc.

  “Hey, Misaki, do you think I’m an idiot?”

  Misaki gave me a look that said, “No, I don’t”, and she shook her head.

  ***

  Anyway, after a week of interacting with Misaki, the only thing I truly understood was how hard she was trying. She really was working very hard. For the first few days, that effort stalled without result; while working to the best of her ability, her passion was certainly real. Of course, I didn’t know where her true intentions lay or what she actually was planning. I didn’t know, but I didn’t really care, either.

  If my thoroughly rotten emotional state could be infused with even just a little energy through this exchange with a girl, I would be happy. Even if it led to problems in the future, I no longer had anything left to lose. Not to mention that, whatever happened, we’d part soon enough. Eventually, I would be kicked out of my apartment, or I’d go somewhere else for another reason. Either way, I would disappear soon. Meeting with Misaki was just a way to alleviate my boredom until t
hat time came.

  And because I was thinking in such irresponsible terms, I had no trouble at all conversing privately with a girl I barely knew, despite the fact that this situation was one that would usually cause a hikikomori the greatest amount of stress possible.

  Of course, no matter how cute Misaki might be, I had no intention of doing anything to her. The sign at the park entrance read, “Beware of Perverts”, but even given the way I looked, I was still a gentlemanly hikikomori. Please, don’t worry, Misaki…

  “What? What are you grinning about?” she asked me.

  “Nothing, nothing. More important, what’s on today’s special training menu?”

  Facing me while sitting on the bench, as usual, Misaki peered into her secret notebook. “Hm, on tonight’s menu is how to converse with others.”

  “Eh?”

  “In general, hikikomori suck at having conversations. Because they’re bad at speaking to others, they tend to shut themselves up in their rooms. Tonight, I thought we could reform that part of you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Therefore, starting now, I will teach you wonderful conversational techniques. Please, listen carefully.”

  Misaki started her lecture, periodically glancing at her secret notebook as I listened carefully. “When talking to people, you get nervous. That leads to being at a loss for words, turning pale, or getting excited. These make your emotional stability erode even further, and your conversation consequently gets worse and worse. How can you break this vicious cycle? The answer is easy: You’ll be fine if you avoid getting nervous. Given that fact, how can you avoid getting nervous? Well, why do people get nervous? It's because they lack confidence in themselves. You think your companions may make a fool out of you, they may look down on you, or they may dislike you.”

  So what? I wanted to butt in, but Misaki’s tone was serious.

  “Ultimately, the problem comes back to having confidence in yourself. Having self-confidence, in reality, is a pretty difficult thing to achieve. Truthfully, I don’t think you’ll be able to gain it through any normal method; but I have a marvelous, revolutionary technique to make the impossible possible. Do you want to know? You do want to know, don’t you?”

  As she said this, she looked at me, and there was nothing I could do but nod. “All right, listen carefully”, Misaki said in her most dignified voice. “This idea is a massive about-face—like on a Copernicus level! In short, if you can’t be self-confident, then just imagine the person you’re speaking to as even more of a failure than you think you are! That’s the method!”

  I had no idea what she was talking about.

  “You simply assume that the person you’re conversing with is a huge failure. You theorize that they’re a waste of a human being. Look down on them as much as you can. If you can do that, you should be able to speak well and remain calm, without any nervousness. You’ll be relaxed and at ease, right?

  “There is one thing you must be careful of. You have to go out of your way to avoid telling the person you’re speaking to what you’re thinking, because they’ll get mad or hurt. If someone looked you in the face and called you trash, or said you were the worst, or labeled you a failure as a human being, you’d be really depressed, right, Satou? That’s why I keep quiet.”

  You mean… I thought. Could this really be some kind of roundabout criticism of me? If so, Misaki’s expression remained innocent.

  I had to ask, “Misaki, might you be putting these ‘conversational techniques’ into practice during your daily life?”

  “Yes, I am. But they don’t really work that well. Most people are better than I am; so, even if I try to believe they’re worthless, I usually fail. As far as that goes, though, when I’m talking to you, Satou, I naturally…”

  “Naturally…?”

  “Forget it. If I told you, it’d hurt you.”

  I’d been hurt for a long time.

  “It’s nothing to worry about. Even a person like you, Satou, is useful to someone.” With that declaration, Misaki stood up. “That’s all for today. See you tomorrow.”

  Part Three

  Yamazaki was working on the game alone. Using the scenario I had half completed, he was creating the game himself. Continuing to wire himself with the hallucinogens we had bought a few days earlier, he silently focused on his computer. Was this another form of escape from reality? It was truly the ultimate way. However, was creating a game on hallucinogens really possible? Leaning over Yamazaki’s shoulder, I peered at his computer monitor.

  The screen was crammed full of tiny words. “The huge organization that controls painful death, anxiety, evil, hell, poison, the abyss, and the like—this is our enemy, and we must defeat this enemy to win the heroine’s love! That is the mission of this game. The enemy is invisible, and you won’t know where it is, so watch out! You could be stabbed from behind. It’s dangerous, dangerous….”

  “What is this?” I asked Yamazaki.

  Yamazaki slowly swiveled his chair. The pupils of his eyes were entirely contracted. His lips were twisted open as wide as possible into a dangerous smile, one that would frighten anyone.

  “What do you mean? You can tell by looking, can’t you? This is my erotic game. It’s an RPG—a role playing game—and the player is the main character. The player progresses in the game by reading the text tile. If he reads it, he’ll learn all kinds of important things; on top of that, the heroine is moe moe. Look. Amazing, isn’t she? The heroine is an alien with cat ears. She’s captured by the enemy. When I say enemy, I mean villains—villains you can’t see. The real object of the game is to make these invisible enemies visible. That’s where the truth of life is found, right? Understand? In other words, I’ve been awakened to the truth of the world. I realized that my mission is to spread my epiphany to everyone, and then erotic games will become the new century’s Bibles. I’ll be able to sell a million copies. I’ll become rich. So… uh, it’s fun. Hey, Satou, you’re having a good time, too, aren’t you?”

  Trembling, I stepped back. When I did, Yamazaki let out a metallic-sounding laugh. As if triggered by his own voice, his giggles quickly elevated into an explosion of laughter. “Ha ha ha, ha ha, ha ha ha! Oh, how funny!”

  Yamazaki took a horrible fall off the chair, landing on all fours. He crawled toward me, his entire body shaking. His appearance reminded me of horror movie zombies.

  I started to panic and stood terrified, rooted to the spot.

  Grabbing my ankles, Yamazaki screamed, “It’s so funny, so very funny! There’s nothing I can do!”

  I was so very scared, I couldn’t do anything, either.

  “It’s so empty, so empty that I can’t carry on!”

  I felt the same way on that point; but Yamazaki, currently in the throes of his drug trip, was powerfully frightening. I prayed for him to return to normal as quickly as possible, but he did not. Smile quivering, he continued giggling to himself.

  Seeing that there was nothing I could do, I decided to give in. I absorbed the white drug through my nasal membranes. It kicked in immediately.

  Ah, how enjoyable… How interesting… It feels so nice… This is the best.

  Oh… I can’t carry on… I’m finished? …It hurts… How pathetic… What can I possibly do? …There’s nothing I can do… How painful…

  It was another bad trip.

  The effects of a hallucinogen are influenced by the psychological state and environment of the user; basically, the outcome depends on the user’s frame of mind and physical surroundings. If users feel like they’re having a good time when they take the drugs, they’ll be in heaven; but if they’re depressed already, they’ll go straight to hell. Using drugs with the intention of escaping reality can’t lead to any positive results.

  I knew that, of course. I did, but… but my drug-addled senses had been invaded by a dramatic, tangible fear. It was different from the vague anxiety I felt on a daily basis. It was almost visible—a totally clear, easily understood uncertainty.
>
  Yes, it was a huge but visible, easily understood fear, this uncertainty. I even may have wanted it like that. Compared to the daily uncertainties, which steadily tortured me little by little, this drug-induced depression even may have been pleasurable.

  Yamazaki turned toward the refrigerator and swung his fist.

  “Dammit, if you’re going to do it, then come on! I’ll face you!” It seemed Yamazaki was confronting an imaginary opponent over there.

  I, however, sat trembling in the corner, holding my head and pulling up my legs tight to my chest.

  “Stop! Don’t come over here!” The enemy was close. Despite my fear, I was somehow having fun. Being chased and killed by villains was a thrilling vision. My paranoia really excited me.

  It stimulated me. In short, it was pleasant.

  If it was pleasant, it also must be fun.

  That’s right! In other words, we were happy. I decided this was the best trip ever! Now, I truly understood the rock-and-roll lifestyle. I decided to make that lifestyle even more perfect.

  “After drugs comes violence!”

  Before the effects of the drugs wore off, we dashed out of the apartment and headed to the park.

  We were going to fight. Tonight, we would move our violence to the wide-open park. Like young people in their fleeting youth, we had to fight! We had to fight dramatically, spectacularly, with all the passion of K-l kickboxers! If we did this, we could experience even more pleasure…

  The sun had long since set, and there was no sign of anyone around us. If there had been, we would have been in trouble. It would have been embarrassing.

  Under the streetlamps of the park, we faced each other. I was wearing a jersey and a T-shirt, and Yamazaki wore a sweatshirt. We were both dressed to move easily. We were ready.

  Because the drugs still hadn’t worn off, Yamazaki was loose-tongued. He kept talking incomprehensibly. “This happens a lot. Dramas where two young, good-looking actors, arguing about youth or love or something, fight each other in a park, where everything is wet with rain. ‘You don’t really understand love!’… ‘I love Hitomi with all my heart!’… ‘Bang! Crack!’ That sort of thing…”