[one-shot] that infernal ticking
Title: That Infernal Ticking
Author: b_sim
Characters/Pairings: Hideto (OC)
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Summary: Life moved fast and the people moved even faster.
Notes: Hideto and his funny little relationship with time.
Disclaimer: Hideto belongs to me.
Hideto got on the train at Ueno station. He stood by the side, as others did, to allow others to get off the train first. Then he got on and took a seat by the train doors. He liked this seat the best when it was winter because when the train doors opened, he would get a blast of the cold wind from outside.
He remained on the train for three hours, watching people. When it got to the busier stations, like Shinjuku, Shibuya or Tokyo, he’d get up and offer his seat to people who needed it more. He did this twice: once for a pregnant lady and another time for an old man. Hideto had been given dirty looks when he hadn’t given up his seat for a young boy on crutches. Hideto either didn’t notice the looks or didn’t care for he just went on looking at the boy without moving an inch.
Hideto realised that everyone-children, teens, adults, senior citizens-moved quickly. People were always rushing about to meet something or someone: a friend, a job interview, a deadline. This made them amusing to Hideto.
Life moved fast and the people moved even faster.
Hideto, on the other hand, took things slowly. He didn’t run or even walk briskly. He simply walked. He nursed his meals just as slowly, sometimes taking an hour to finish just a plate of rice and curry.
One thing that Hideto did quickly was shower. He hated being wet.
Hideto’s slower-than-average pace was bizarre in the fast-paced and busy capital of Japan. Hideto didn’t have to be told this to know it, not when he was constantly being overtaken by people on the streets, regardless of whether or not they were walking or riding bicycles. The latter was extremely common here and its speed and Hideto’s lack of it wasn’t a pretty combination. In his short life of twenty-nine years, Hideto had gotten rammed into by a bicycle on the streets precisely 351 times. That was about 12 times a year, or once a month.
Sometimes, Hideto took the train. Though Hideto preferred unhurriedness, the train’s speed didn’t unsettle him. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Whenever he got on a train, he felt as if he was catching up to all the others who had moved ahead of him while he had been dragging his feet. So Hideto would get on a train and stay there for hours at a time, letting the train move him forward so he didn’t have to.
Then he would get off and return to being slow. When he felt that he was lagging too far behind, he’d get on a train again.
Hideto sometimes ran as well, on the treadmill or on the track at the sports stadium opposite his apartment. When he ran, time slowed down even more. One minute felt like five. It was a paradox: him actually running but moving even slower.
The train was returning to Ueno station, now. Hideto only knew how much time had passed because the sky was darker than before. Hideto didn’t wear watches because he believed keeping time by the second, minute and hour was what made people lose time in the first place.
He bought himself a bento from the convenience store and then walked back home at his usual pace. As always, many people passed him and two cyclists almost crashed into. Everyone was moving so quickly. Hideto swore he could almost see the faces of these people melting off of their skulls already, the pressure of time-keeping too much for them to bear.
One day, they would really lose it. One day, time would back them up into a corner and, at the same time, pull them in all directions. Then these people would throw their watches and clocks to the ground and smash ‘em up, smash ‘em right up, to escape that infernal ticking. Then they’d be like Hideto.
And then cyclists wouldn’t run into him anymore.
Notes: Thoughts?
Author: b_sim
Characters/Pairings: Hideto (OC)
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Summary: Life moved fast and the people moved even faster.
Notes: Hideto and his funny little relationship with time.
Disclaimer: Hideto belongs to me.
Hideto got on the train at Ueno station. He stood by the side, as others did, to allow others to get off the train first. Then he got on and took a seat by the train doors. He liked this seat the best when it was winter because when the train doors opened, he would get a blast of the cold wind from outside.
He remained on the train for three hours, watching people. When it got to the busier stations, like Shinjuku, Shibuya or Tokyo, he’d get up and offer his seat to people who needed it more. He did this twice: once for a pregnant lady and another time for an old man. Hideto had been given dirty looks when he hadn’t given up his seat for a young boy on crutches. Hideto either didn’t notice the looks or didn’t care for he just went on looking at the boy without moving an inch.
Hideto realised that everyone-children, teens, adults, senior citizens-moved quickly. People were always rushing about to meet something or someone: a friend, a job interview, a deadline. This made them amusing to Hideto.
Life moved fast and the people moved even faster.
Hideto, on the other hand, took things slowly. He didn’t run or even walk briskly. He simply walked. He nursed his meals just as slowly, sometimes taking an hour to finish just a plate of rice and curry.
One thing that Hideto did quickly was shower. He hated being wet.
Hideto’s slower-than-average pace was bizarre in the fast-paced and busy capital of Japan. Hideto didn’t have to be told this to know it, not when he was constantly being overtaken by people on the streets, regardless of whether or not they were walking or riding bicycles. The latter was extremely common here and its speed and Hideto’s lack of it wasn’t a pretty combination. In his short life of twenty-nine years, Hideto had gotten rammed into by a bicycle on the streets precisely 351 times. That was about 12 times a year, or once a month.
Sometimes, Hideto took the train. Though Hideto preferred unhurriedness, the train’s speed didn’t unsettle him. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Whenever he got on a train, he felt as if he was catching up to all the others who had moved ahead of him while he had been dragging his feet. So Hideto would get on a train and stay there for hours at a time, letting the train move him forward so he didn’t have to.
Then he would get off and return to being slow. When he felt that he was lagging too far behind, he’d get on a train again.
Hideto sometimes ran as well, on the treadmill or on the track at the sports stadium opposite his apartment. When he ran, time slowed down even more. One minute felt like five. It was a paradox: him actually running but moving even slower.
The train was returning to Ueno station, now. Hideto only knew how much time had passed because the sky was darker than before. Hideto didn’t wear watches because he believed keeping time by the second, minute and hour was what made people lose time in the first place.
He bought himself a bento from the convenience store and then walked back home at his usual pace. As always, many people passed him and two cyclists almost crashed into. Everyone was moving so quickly. Hideto swore he could almost see the faces of these people melting off of their skulls already, the pressure of time-keeping too much for them to bear.
One day, they would really lose it. One day, time would back them up into a corner and, at the same time, pull them in all directions. Then these people would throw their watches and clocks to the ground and smash ‘em up, smash ‘em right up, to escape that infernal ticking. Then they’d be like Hideto.
And then cyclists wouldn’t run into him anymore.
Notes: Thoughts?