At first, I was writing… as a hobby… Just something to keep my mind occupied.
I'd jot things down whenever I had time, or some ideas, or scenes and stupid lines that didn't go anywhere. One day, Tetsuo caught me scribbling in my notebook, and the conversation took turn to future job—naturally, to wish and life-dreams, rather than just being a dumpling deliveryman.
So I said… maybe I want to be a writer, and make a movie myself… Since I kinda admired it… you know… movie, anime, manga, novel… ever since I was kid.
Even though I never even asked him for it, I still remember the day Tetsuo brought me that chance… with that smug grin of his.
"Hey, didn't you say you wanted to make films or something?"
I looked up at him, my brain still focusing on my mouth, chewing his fried rice…
"I've asked around at a TV station next town. They need interns for camera crew. I'd bet you'll fit right in! And it pays better than here too."
"…Wait… wait, wait, wait! seriously?!"
He put a recruitment form across the table like it was nothing.
"I Already talked to the guy and make sure of it, you can start next week if you want, Renji."
I stared at the paper, making sure it was not just my delusion.
"L-Lord boss Tetsuo… I!! I am not worthy!!"
"… Sheesh… Don't call me that…"
He groaned, but he was laughing while I bowed like some overdramatic monk.
Shortly after, I bid farewell to him. That first week after I moved in… it is expensive and tiring, but I felt alive.
Running with the crew. Carrying equipment, setting up shots, watching scenes come together. For the first time, I could almost see it… a path toward something brighter. Something bigger.
But it didn't last…
The longer I stayed, the more of that dream rotted in reality.
My producer snapped at me one day.
"Too boring!! Reshoot it. Add crying. Spice it up! Anything!!"
"Cut the part where the kid run to his mom. It'll confuse viewers!"
"Fake it if you have to!! Nobody gives a shit."
Bit by bit, the job became something else. Plastic smiles, fake tears, numbers on a report. No story. No truth. And I just nodded, since at least… I need the money from the job.
Even after months… after I numbed myself and got used to the culture, my teammates still said I was dead weight. That I hadn't grown and contributed nothing.
…I sank deeper into helplessness…
And that led me to the day I truly regretted everything.
It was almost midnight when I was taking a short break in a nearby park after a long shift before heading back to my apartment.
That's when I heard it.
"N-noo!! Please!! Give it back!!"
"Fuck off! You gramps!!"
Down the hill, I see an elderly man was being robbed by two immigrant thugs.
Crime by foreigner was common enough at that time… But no one ever had the chance to documented it properly.
My feet moved toward, instinct to help pulled me, but then I stopped when my hand went to my phone, ready to dial the police.
"…If I took this… maybe they'll finally see me."
But then… I reached to my camera instead.
"Maybe they'll give me credit."
"Maybe I'll finally—"
…Such were my thoughts, So… I turned on the camera, and filmed.
I make sure I took every detail… The man cried… begged… Tears began mixed with blood.
"This is the truth, this is legit! This has to be useful."
I muttered to myself while steadying the lens.
"I'll call someone… Just... after I get a good shot."
I kept repeating those words in my mind. But in the end, I was too absorbed…
The violence escalated, and his scream for help faded.
And the sickening facts that…somewhere behind the lens… I smiled…
After they got bored and I got enough footage, the thugs ran off with the money, leaving the man sprawled unconscious on the alley.
"Shit!! Police! No!! Ambulance!"
Only then did I lower the camera and call for help.
But too late.
He died on the way to the hospital.
"…No way…"
…That expression… frozen in agony and bloodied… burned itself into my memory…
I'm torn between submitting the footage or not, but my coworkers found it on my camera the next day, and the footage aired immediately.
It went viral within hours.
And along with the ratings, as a matter of course, outrage too, exploded everywhere.
"Why didn't the cameraman help?!"
"Who the fuck just watches someone die!!?"
So on, and so forth… but… my coworkers patted my back with a satisfied smile.
"Hell of a shot, Renji-kun."
"Finally pulled your weight, huh?"
… I felt nothing… Or maybe I felt too much…
I quit that day, didn't even bother with a resignation letter. Just a short bow to the producer, then I walked out the front door and never went back.
I couldn't look at a lens anymore without feeling like a murderer…
"I'm fucking disgusting…"
With nowhere to go, my feet led me back to my old house in Shirosato. There was no reason to stay near the TV station anymore. And I can't afford to waste money to stay in Tokyo like before either.
When I stood in front of my old house—the place where everything started—my eyes darkened.
Especially now that I understood the meaning of multiple padlocks installed at the front door, the twisted facts about what my mother actually doing to me for years.
"…It's been seven years… and not much has changed."
The day my mother committed suicide, I was taken to Tokyo child welfare facility… never once… I return to this place. The house was weathered, but still in a better condition than I expected.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The silence hit me immediately… the kind of silence that crawled under my skin and settled inside.
"It's just a house…"
I dropped my bag and looked around. Everything was the same, like time just stopped moving inside this space. The worn-out couch with torn seams. The coffee table with the stain I'd once hidden under magazines. Scratch marks on the floor from my mother dragging furniture during her cleaning sprees.
"I thought it'd be harder… In the end… it's just a house."
Even when I said that… I avoided my old room upstairs. I stayed in the living room, every creak above me made my heart beat with something I can't quite name.
Weeks passed like that.
I locked myself inside my house, afraid of people, my phone, the outside world, and the internet. I drowned in guilt… filming a dying man. And further back… about my mother, that choose to end her life after I ran away from home, both, were the results of my own selfishness.
"…Mom…"
One night, when I woke up, it was strangely pitch black. And that one time in particular… my eyes drifted to the staircase—the one I'd been pretending not to see. It loomed as if it were calling me…
"It was fine. Just a house."
Convincing myself, I climbed with shaky steps. At the top, I froze in front of my bedroom door.
Every instinct screamed not to open it. But I did anyway, I opened the door slowly with a loud creak.
"… See… It's just my room…"
After I breathed out and blinked. The memory I tried to push away years back—slammed into me vividly.
A police officer behind me. A hand on my shoulder.
"NO!!! Don't look at it, kid! —Emergency, we have a situation on the second floor!"
"Help me get this kid outta here!! NOW!"
I still remember my mom's lifeless shadow… all shriveled. Feet dangling just slightly above the floor with chair toppled beside…
My knees buckled… The walls felt closer every hour. To drown out the silence, I turned on the TV… some random old DVD… and cranked the volume.
Still, I wavered. I thought I could handle it…. I thought I'd moved on.
But I hadn't.
"I can't…"
… And the guilt won…
"I should've done something!! I should've not run away! Should've noticed the signs! Should've been a better son! Should've done something else other than what I had done!!"
By the third day balled up on the floor of my room, I couldn't take it anymore.
I dragged a chair into place. Tied a knot on the place where my mom once tied hers.
"I can't live like this…"
The thoughts came fast and relentless…
'You're a murderer! You'll never escape this!'
'You have nothing to live for!'
…I stood where my mother once stood… my arms trembled as I clenched on the rope.
…My eyes closed. The only remaining light came from the TV which I don't give a damn anymore…
"Wait—before that, tell me your dreams!! my friend!"
The movie playing in the background stopped me… bringing me back…
My eyes glued to the screen… that old movie was nothing special. Nothing grand. Just a simple story about finding beauty in the mundane.
"Dare to dream."
It didn't save me.
It didn't heal me.
It just made me pause… But…
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
That night, I ran… out of the room. Out of the house. Back to Tokyo—like when I was a kid, but for a different reason.
Few hours bus ride… By morning, I was standing in front of Tetsuo's place. I opened the door without knocking, I remembered his surprised face turned into a nostalgic… warm smile…
"Wow, Renji! long time no see. Been well? When's your movie coming out?"
"…I'm… fine… Haha… the... movie… still far away… I'm just… hungry. Missed your food, old man…"
He looked closer, at my poor attempt at wearing a smile…
"…Renji. Are you… really okay…?"
That was all it took.
"Old man—I…!! I made a mistake!"
I collapsed, sobbing. He caught me before I hit the floor.
"O-Oi, Renji! What's wrong?!"
I couldn't answer. Only mumbled something unintelligible.
"…Alright, alright… for now… let's talk inside, Renji."
He said quietly, and helped me walked in.
As I entered, in the corner of my eyes that I forgot until you mentioned it… two neatly dressed women were leaving. One of them bowed politely.
"Mr. Tetsuo, we'll take our leave. The money's on the table. Have a good day, as always."
Then after the door closed, and I sit face to face with Tetsuo…
"Renji… I-I know it's though, but, you're here right now, it's okay…"
"IT'S NOT OKAY!! I MADE A MISTAKE!!"
"Then you should fix it—"
"Old man!! I Can't live like this anymore!! It's suffocating!!"
"…R-Renji…"
"I want to kill myself!!"
The moment I screamed that out of my lungs, the next thing I know, Tetsuo grabbed me by the collar, lifted me… and pushed be back to the wall hard…
"Renji!! Don't ever say that!!"
I look at Tetsuo… wearing an expression I've never seen before… it looked like he's even in more pain than I am…
"Renji… Just live!! Live long enough… something good will surely happen eventually!!"
After that… I barely had conversation with him, I was just crying all day, and Tetsuo let me do just that. He didn't probe my wounds deeper… he just… cooked me a fried rice… sat with me, watched over me…
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