January 16th, Thursday, 2014
Kenji Takaito
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP....
The alarm sliced through 6:40 AM quiet like a razor. Kenji didn't groan. He didn't roll over or beg for five more minutes. He just... woke up.
Kenji's room was simple, not because he liked it that way, but because he never had time to let things pile up. Most of the space was just empty. His school uniform hung on the door, a gym bag with a spare jersey was placed by the desk, and his work clothes were folded properly. The room seemed to be waiting for someone to move in.
Sometimes, as he walked past the bare shelves and plain walls, Kenji wondered if the emptiness in the room matched how he felt inside.
He moved through his morning routine, brushing his teeth, washing up, packing, folding—without thinking. The motions were so automatic that his mind wandered. He didn't even need to be fully awake to do it.
Lately, he wasn't sure he ever was.
The house remained silent. His parents had already left for work before sunrise. Now it was up to him to wake his younger siblings and handle the usual chores. Nothing out of the ordinary.
An hour and a half later, Kenji hovered by the stove wearing his school pants, shirt neatly tucked, arms bare from rolled sleeves, frying eggs in the kitchen now. He hadn't eaten much yesterday anyway, and he knew just omelets weren't going to cut it today as well.
His brother Hiro walked into the kitchen, yawning and looking for his bag.
Hiro: [Kenji-Nii, did you see my math workbook? I think I left it in your room when I was looking for a pen last night.]
Kenji didn't turn around. He was busy flipping an egg for Mei's plate.
Kenji: [Top shelf of the shoe rack. You left it there when you came home yesterday. I put a bookmark in the section you were stuck on. Page 42. Use that formula instead of the one you keep trying.]
Hiro stopped in his tracks.
Hiro: [Oh. Thanks.]
He stared at Kenji's back, noticing the rigid, iron-tight line of his brother's shoulders.
Hiro: [You, okay? The way you're hitting that pan... it sounds a little angry.]
Kenji paused. He was gripping the spatula so tightly his arm shook. He slowly relaxed his hand. In a quiet voice, he said.
[I'm okay, just need a short rest." Then he told Hiro, "Wash your hands. Food will be ready soon.]
Suddenly, Mei burst in, barefoot and shaking with energy, waving a piece of paper like a flag.
Mei: ["Onii-chan! Look! I drew a cat!]
Only then did Kenji turn around. The stiffness in his face gave way to joy as he smiled at his little sister. Down he went, meeting her at eye level.
Kenji: [The ears are the right size this time. Good job, Mei. Go put it on the fridge. Use the blue magnet; the red one doesn't work well anymore.]
"Are you gonna eat with us?" Mei asked, tilting her head. "You look like you're falling asleep standing up."
Mei: [Are you gonna eat with us? You look like you're falling asleep standing up.]
Kenji stood up and stretched, humming a quiet yes to Mei's question before slipping back into his usual routine.
Kenji: [I have to study for the mock exams. I'll eat while I work. Hiro, make sure she drinks her milk. No dessert tonight if she doesn't eat her vegetables at dinner.]
Hiro: [You always say that, and then you give it to her anyway.]
A trace of calm passed over Kenji's features. A moment slipped by before he caught himself—then appeared the grin, slight but true.
Kenji: [Eat already, Hiro.]
He watched Kenji plate the food with quick, neat movements.
Hiro: [Seriously, Kenji-Nii. Sato's brother said you haven't left the library all week. You don't have to—]
Kenji: [Sato's brother should mind his own business. Sato is ahead of me right now. That's just how it is. I'm working on it. Don't worry about me. You don't get called the 'Tigers of Toke' for nothing.]
He glanced at Hiro, his tone softening. The nickname started in their second year, after the Toke High basketball team beat their rivals, and people noticed how hard the team studied, too. The school was proud of that image—students who worked hard both on the court and in class. Kenji wore the nickname with pride, even when it felt heavy. A plate went into each of their hands, and off toward the hall he moved, meal left behind.
Kenji: [Eat quickly, we have to leave in ten minutes.]
As he walked away, he heard Mei whisper to Hrio,
Mei: [Why is Nii-San always in a hurry?]
Kenji only caught part of what she said, but he knew what Mei was asking. He paused in the hallway, feeling a sudden flood of frustration—not at her, but at how the world always seemed to push back. He grabbed his bags for class and the gym and set them by the door.
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Fumbling with the knots after breakfast, Kenji gave a pull at his school shoes, cold leather resisting under his fingers.
Mei still looked sleepy as she pulled her backpack up. By the step, Hiro slung his baseball bag over his shoulder without looking. Outside, Kenji closed the door and turned the lock. The chilly air hit, waking him up a little from yesterday's tiredness.
Footsteps crushing on gravel, Kenji let go of breakfast chores and reached ahead into what the hours would ask of him. The path to the grade school unwound quietly beneath his shoes.
Kenji: [Listen. Mom and Dad called. They're both working late starts, so they'll be the ones picking you and Hiro-Kun up when school finishes. Don't go wandering off to the park, okay? Wait by the gate.]
Mei: [Even if it rains?]
Kenji: [Especially if it rains.]
He only acted this relaxed around his siblings—none of his friends ever saw this side of him.
Kenji: [Hiro-Kun, keep an eye on her. Don't let her run off.]
Hiro: [I got it, Kenji-Nii. You're going to be at the library again?]
Kenji: [Student Council first.]
His mood seemingly taken a nosedive.
Kenji : [The Culture Festival budget was a headache of misplaced yen and rounding errors collection of clerical mistakes that no one else appeared to notice. If I didn't audit those equipment rental forms before the first bell, the whole ledger would be off by the end of the week…
…Morning means I'll see Saki again. She will probably be chatting about theater or something. Still, pages need to be filled. Funny how things slip when someone else messes up - Maya, holding back again, though it sits squarely on her plate. Here I am, racing through what should've been done days ago, cleaning other people's messes…
…My shoulder is starting to ache. Basketball practice at 2:30 p.m. is going to be hell, and I already know I'll be running drills with every muscle protesting. Sometimes it's obvious I'm not the best guy on the team—other players are faster, taller, and they make plays look effortless while I am still catching my breath. Still, I can't stand the thought of falling behind them, not when every part of me insists I need to prove myself…
…Finally, the convenience store has shifted. 7:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. I'll be exhausted since I'll be in the library after practice, but... I need the money. Hiro's birthday is coming up, and I have to get him the game he's been talking about…
Man... and I have to do all of this again tomorrow.]
Kenji: [One thing at a time.]
Mei: [What was that, Onii-Chan?]
Kenji: [Nothing, nothing. Just keep walking.]
A sea of yellow caps bobbed near the school entrance, children yelling as they rushed about. A short distance away stood Kenji, held apart by the roar that hammered inside his skull, matching each beat of his blood.
Right then, Kenji spoke up as he checked the watch strapped to his arm. It showed 8:25 AM.
He bent down to fix a buckle on Mei's bag. As he did, a strange thought popped up: did I turn the stove off? He pictured himself turning the knob, but everything else felt foggy. He shook it off. It probably didn't matter. What was important was what he had to do right now.
Kenji: [Remember. Mom or Dad will be here when the bell rings. If they're a few minutes late because of traffic, stay with Hiro. Don't go looking for cats.]
Mei nodded quietly, then reached out and patted Kenji's cheek.
Mei: [You have a frowny face, Nii-chan. You should have a dessert face.]
At that moment, Kenji's face relaxed, a smile coming before fading as his clenched jaw gave him away.
Kenji: [Maybe another time. You should keep going.]
Mei walked ahead with light steps while Hiro hung back, shifting his baseball gear. He looked at Kenji, then at the older students from the nearby high school. They laughed loudly, their clothes were clean, and their faces showed no signs of chores or money worries. They looked like they had easy mornings.
Hiro: [You're sure you're, okay? You look... I don't know. It's getting obvious that you aren't sleeping.]
Kenji: [Look at you, being big and responsible. Don't worry about me. As soon as the holidays begin, I'm perfectly content to just sit around all day doing nothing and sleeping. Until then, duty calls.]
Kenji: [Go. Don't mess up that formula on page 42. I checked your work; you're smart enough to get it, you're just being lazy with the steps.]
Hiro: [Okay, okay. Catch up later this evening, Kenji-Nii.]
Kenji listened as their footsteps faded. Once they were through the gates, he stopped thinking like a brother. He turned and headed straight for the high school, moving quickly but not running. The morning felt cold and heavy on his shoulders. He was always on time, no matter what.
Several hours later, as the day transitioned into night,
The lights above fluttered and buzzed. It was twelve minutes past midnight. Kenji was covering the late shift because someone else had left. He never thought about saying no—money was more important than sleep. Now he could finally get Hiro that new game, and possibly something small for Mei, too.
An hour had passed since he texted his mom to say he'd be home late. He pictured her sitting at the kitchen table, not moving, with a cup of cold tea, listening to him come home. That thought weighed on him more than being tired.
He was the steady one at home now, while both parents worked long hours.
He stood behind the register, stuck in place. This was the worst part of the shift, nothing was happening, and there were no customers. He much preferred stocking shelves or checking dates, tasks that allowed him to work on autopilot.
But now he was just waiting. For a moment, his eyes blurred, and he tapped his fingers quietly on the counter. Shadows on boxes near the counter - just two shoppers remained up front, zoned into a comic with pages bent at an angle. Behind him, closer to the exit, stood another figure in green fabric so loud it appeared to hum under the lights.
Kenji's thoughts floated as he watched a couple of students walk past the Mini-Stop. He wondered if things would have gone better if the Student Council had managed without him. Maybe his biology answer wasn't so wrong after all. Behind the counter, a thin electronic tune played, flat and hollow, echoing how stuck he felt.
Customer: [Excuse me.]
The voice snapped him back. He blinked, the harsh overhead lights making his vision swim for a second.
Kenji: [Sorry. Welcome.]
He finished the transaction for the green neon-hoodie guy with surgical efficiency, then turned to the tracksuit boy. He hadn't even noticed the kid approach with a cup of instant ramen and a small carton of corn potage. Kenji was so deep in his mental simulation of tomorrow's schedule that the physical world appeared like a low-resolution backdrop.
Kenji: [That'll be 363 yen.]
The boy fumbled through his pockets, pulling out a handful of change.
Tracksuit Boy: [A jagged-edge ten.]
The kid muttered this while fishing a specific coin out before tucking it back into his wallet and offering the rest. Kenji's eyes zeroed in on the coins; even with the throb behind his eyes, the math seemed instant.
Kenji: [Three 100-yen coins, one 50, one 10... that's 360. And three 1-yen coins. Perfect.]
He bagged the items with a flourishing style he didn't feel.
Kenji: [Thank you. Have a good night.]
Mr. Tanako: [Kenji! Was that the last one?]
The store manager called from the office minutes later.
Mr. Tanako: [If so, punch out. I'll handle the closing. Go on, get out of here.]
Kenji: [Are you sure, Mr. Tanako? I haven't finished the floor rotation for the drinks—]
Mr. Tanako: [Go! Sleep! You have school in, what, six hours? You're going to pass out standing up. You've done enough for three people today.]
Kenji didn't argue. He finally had permission to stop. He changed quickly in the back, swapping his work vest for his olive hoodie. Even half-asleep, he thought his fashion sense was better than the guy in the green hoodie. He'd made it through the day, finished every task, and planned to study a bit before going to bed—then do it all again tomorrow. Muttered as he stepped out of the store at 12:27 a.m.
The night air proved freezing, hitting his lungs like a shock to the system. He started the walk home, his shadow spreading long under the streetlamps. He was exhausted, his head was spinning, and he had to do it all again in a few hours.
That thought kept running through his head again and again.
Kenji: [I wonder if this is how my life is. Is this how my life will always be? The same thing, day after day. Each day proved packed with duties and schedules, and—]
Kenji hardly recognized himself under it all. siblings, push forward—repeat. He could see himself years from now, older but just as tired, still moving from one task to the next without ever pausing long enough to figure out what he genuinely wanted. Was he moving forward, or just wasting time?
He felt numb, knowing exactly what every hour would bring. It left him feeling empty where expectation or joy should have been.
Sometimes, when life slowed down for a moment, he wondered if he was really living or just going through the motions, filling each day so he wouldn't have to think about how empty they felt.
By most standards, Kenji had a good life. He had three meals a day, an education, a place to live, and a family who loved him—the basics.
Still, Kenji felt like life didn't mean much anymore. He wasn't really alive or dead. Maybe he was just... bored?
Kenji felt an unpleasant sensation rising from his chest, which he promptly pushed aside to an undefined place in his mind.
But he couldn't help but wonder whether he was doing all this for himself or for someone else as he started rubbing his eyes, since the light from the streetlamp seemed to grow brighter.
He blinked.
Rubbed harder.
The glare didn't fade— The world changed.
He wasn't in the street. He wasn't even in the city.
The aroma of salt and exhaust was replaced by a strong rush of unfamiliar spices, sunbaked stone, and the heavy, musky smell of livestock. Underfoot, the gritty texture of powdered dirt and loose gravel shifted with each of his steps. Around him, a massive, bustling thoroughfare teemed with life that defied every law of biology he'd studied for the midterm. Lizard-like creatures—some the size of small trucks—pulled heavy wooden wagons. People with fur-covered ears, flicking tails, and sparkling scales navigated a sunny market as if it were perfectly normal. Above the stalls, wooden signs swung in the breeze, covered in a bewildering script of incomprehensible squiggles.
Kenji's heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Kenji: [What the hell? What is this? Some kind of... dream?]
He turned, looking for the Mini Stop or anything of resemblance, but it was gone. In its place was a stone gateway. Next to him, the boy in the orange tracksuit, the one who'd just bought the ramen—was staring at his hands, his face contorting from shock into something that looked dangerously like excitement.
The boy took a staggering step forward and shouted, his voice wavering with a combination of awe and pure, unadulterated mania.
Tracksuit Boy: [So does this mean... I've been summoned— ACROSS THE UNIVERSE —TO ANOTHER WORLD!?]
The "tracksuit boy" looked like he was about to burst into a monologue. Kenji, however, just stood there. All the tasks, the routines, the biology exams, the budget ledgers, and the basketball drills—the entire architecture of his life—simply collapsed.
He looked at the boy, then at a passing lizard-man, then back at the incomprehensible signs.
Kenji: [Huh?]
Kenji: [Did I just die or something?]