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Chapter 2
The window provided her comfort. The snow fell effortlessly, she sighed and smiled.
Where had the years gone? It felt like yesterday was her sixth birthday. They would go
into the big city where Dad works. She'd tour through the maze of buildings, people.
It was at that moment she'd make up her mind. She would move into a big city. It felt like
yesterday. But she didn't fool herself. The time had flown past her so fast she hadn't
realized. Her eyes had completely fallen off her Calculus book, watching the small white embers
fall to the once warm, welcoming grass. She could hear her father crumpling papers, sketching
a car they wanted to put out by Christmas. Today is December 15th. She's sick of this house.
With that, she leaves.
The bullettrain was nearly empty, housing only a few solemn men with suitcases.
Machines. Humans. Do they live for adventure? Do they live for knowledge?
She doubted it. The transition from the country to the city was a blur.
Less than beautiful. Sort of sickening. She stepped off the train, the cold,
attacking wind against her soft face. She walked for what seemed like hours, dim streetlights
guiding the way through what was becoming a blizzard. She stepped inside a small restraunt
on the corner. She sat there, stirring her chocolate milk. Why did everything feel so far away?
She hadn't made friends in so long. And even if she did, they don't talk to her outside of school.
Depression. It was something hard to fight. Her parents were barely human. Was there ever a
time she didn't feel this lonely? She shook her head, answering her own question. She spotted an
old man, his eyes literally licking at her legs. She didn't bother. What a dog. Is there anything
more than this? She hopped off the stool. Back out into the cold. Back to the house.
Things would change, she hoped. Things would get exciting. Something. She looked into the sky for hope.
Nothing but black. Night already? Time flies when time doesn't seem to matter.
More blurring. The scenery almost looked funny at that speed. Sort of a slideshow of civilization falling apart.
She had better get sleep. School tommorow. She walked past her mother, who was sitting on
the porch, a ciggeratte lazily clamped in her lips.Inhale. Exhale. Her skirt fell to the floor, and the warm
bed felt so good against her almost frozen legs. Things had to change. They had to.
Civilization would fall. A slideshow. Things had to change. Eyes closed, but not as tight as they ever could.
Morning came almost as soon as she closed her eyes. The feeling was still there, though.
It loomed over her. She was first in her class, with a ninety six percent on her finals. Great.
She's got three more years. Fantastic. Yeah. Wow. Inhale. Exhale. She walked home. She came home to an empty house.
Father was yet again in the city, working on the company. Was that an escape for him? Snap to a father, sitting at
his desk, sighing with relief. Away from the wife in heat, away from the daughter who tried to make him proud.
What did he care? These models weren't selling. Recall them. They are just metal. Just machines.
Cold, rigid metal. Every day, things got smaller. Things got faster. People got older.
From cradle to coffin, you are dying. You are a stranger to everyone and everything.
You are Hirona Nadazuki. Trapped and unhappy that you're floating. You need change.
You need adventure. You need some fucking jeans. Then the telephone rings. Your father
is crying. He's only human.
The window provided her comfort. The snow fell effortlessly, she sighed and smiled.
Where had the years gone? It felt like yesterday was her sixth birthday. They would go
into the big city where Dad works. She'd tour through the maze of buildings, people.
It was at that moment she'd make up her mind. She would move into a big city. It felt like
yesterday. But she didn't fool herself. The time had flown past her so fast she hadn't
realized. Her eyes had completely fallen off her Calculus book, watching the small white embers
fall to the once warm, welcoming grass. She could hear her father crumpling papers, sketching
a car they wanted to put out by Christmas. Today is December 15th. She's sick of this house.
With that, she leaves.
The bullettrain was nearly empty, housing only a few solemn men with suitcases.
Machines. Humans. Do they live for adventure? Do they live for knowledge?
She doubted it. The transition from the country to the city was a blur.
Less than beautiful. Sort of sickening. She stepped off the train, the cold,
attacking wind against her soft face. She walked for what seemed like hours, dim streetlights
guiding the way through what was becoming a blizzard. She stepped inside a small restraunt
on the corner. She sat there, stirring her chocolate milk. Why did everything feel so far away?
She hadn't made friends in so long. And even if she did, they don't talk to her outside of school.
Depression. It was something hard to fight. Her parents were barely human. Was there ever a
time she didn't feel this lonely? She shook her head, answering her own question. She spotted an
old man, his eyes literally licking at her legs. She didn't bother. What a dog. Is there anything
more than this? She hopped off the stool. Back out into the cold. Back to the house.
Things would change, she hoped. Things would get exciting. Something. She looked into the sky for hope.
Nothing but black. Night already? Time flies when time doesn't seem to matter.
More blurring. The scenery almost looked funny at that speed. Sort of a slideshow of civilization falling apart.
She had better get sleep. School tommorow. She walked past her mother, who was sitting on
the porch, a ciggeratte lazily clamped in her lips.Inhale. Exhale. Her skirt fell to the floor, and the warm
bed felt so good against her almost frozen legs. Things had to change. They had to.
Civilization would fall. A slideshow. Things had to change. Eyes closed, but not as tight as they ever could.
Morning came almost as soon as she closed her eyes. The feeling was still there, though.
It loomed over her. She was first in her class, with a ninety six percent on her finals. Great.
She's got three more years. Fantastic. Yeah. Wow. Inhale. Exhale. She walked home. She came home to an empty house.
Father was yet again in the city, working on the company. Was that an escape for him? Snap to a father, sitting at
his desk, sighing with relief. Away from the wife in heat, away from the daughter who tried to make him proud.
What did he care? These models weren't selling. Recall them. They are just metal. Just machines.
Cold, rigid metal. Every day, things got smaller. Things got faster. People got older.
From cradle to coffin, you are dying. You are a stranger to everyone and everything.
You are Hirona Nadazuki. Trapped and unhappy that you're floating. You need change.
You need adventure. You need some fucking jeans. Then the telephone rings. Your father
is crying. He's only human.