The room was dark, with only the TV and computer in it being a source of light, a dim source at that. The room was filthy and barely kept clean; the walls were streaked with stains and had hints of mold at the corners. The floor was covered in crumbs and trash from unhealthy snacks and drinks; not a single one was close to providing any form of nutrition.
Nothing in the room had a hint of care in it; it was a box of desperation that even the happiest, go-go-luckiest person would run out screaming within a second of stepping in. The occupant inside the room was watching the same anime again while eating instant ramen in a cup. He watched this series three times now, and he didn't feel excited or joy in watching anymore, just emptiness—something to pass the time since he had nothing else to do. The laptop next to the TV was not even turned off; it was still showing the screen from the game he had played earlier, his source of income, since he wouldn't leave his room now without feeling anxiety and fear of going out after the events that had happened in his life.
The occupant of the depressing room was a 19-year-old hikikomori; he had no real skills that would get him a high-paying job and had a short, lanky body with long, unkempt hair down to his back. His body was so skinny that his cheekbones stood out on his face. He was a brilliant student before, who dedicated his youth to studies to be a successful citizen in his country, but not at this point in his life, he was a loser who failed to live up to anything worth a yen coin to mention.
The anime reached its end credits, with the ending song playing; the hikikomori dropped his unfinished cup onto the already filthy floor of his room.
"That's it, no more, I think I've had enough." He said with no emotion in his tone.
The hikikomori got up from his dirty bed. He didn't bother turning off the TV or computer as he exited his room, not even attempting to put on his slippers, his bare feet touching the cold metal of the apartment building he lived in. Outside, he hung his body over the balcony of the apartment complex, staring out at the scenery of cars and buildings illuminating the area. The sight made him feel worse, lamenting his failed life and how he had gotten into the situation he was in.
The tears he was holding back for days slowly came out of his eyes; he could no longer keep them in. It had been two years since he graduated from high school, and he hadn't lasted even six months at college when he flunked out and had to rely on playing games or doing online jobs to pay rent. He kept wondering how he had failed so badly in life to get to this point after all the planning and effort he had made to be successful. He was a good student at his school, placed high when passing exams, making it to the number one spot every time, and had so much promise for his future
But after graduating, reality b***h slapped him in the face, and now this was his life. The hikikomori kept lamenting in his head again as he did every day without fail. Once again, he blamed it on his out-of-shape body, a body of an Otaku at 5'5, short and skinny, that had to be the reason. Or maybe because he didn't have a handsome appearance, no skills to possess, so that he couldn't fight back when he was beaten like a stray dog. So many reasons, so many excuses, and yet none he could fathom that would make sense to him or even change the results he got. All of that, and the best answer that flew over his head was that it was all on him. He took no responsibility for what happened in his life, blaming it on everything else to avoid the obvious: he thought none of what he received was his fault, but rather the fault of other factors.
He made money to support himself from online jobs, such as beta-testing games, winning dungeon raids as a volunteer for teams, or tutoring students, with the camera on his computer turned off so they wouldn't see how shameful he looked. Even with that, he had no will to eat properly or take care of his hygiene well at all. He didn't care anymore. Everything he was thinking of spiraled in his mind furiously, making his self-disgust with himself worse.
The frustration that built up drove him to slam his fist on the railing continuously, driving through the pain and scrapes with no concern for the damage to his skin on his knuckles.
He truly didn't care anymore; he had had enough of the unfulfilling life he was living, with no hope he could see in front of his eyes. He was about to do what he had thought about doing since day one of moving into the apartment building. The decision he thought of many a time since then, yet never went through with till now. It was rock bottom now, too late to make a change in his life; he was going to take the next step in his plan.
The apartment complex was over a freeway, perfect for what he had been planning. The hikikomori took one last look at his room, the prison he made for himself. In the next episode of the anime, he was tearfully wishing he were as strong as the main lead and didn't have to do what he was about to do next.
He wanted to be strong, confident, like everything he watched in anime. With a heavy sigh and tears still flowing, the hikikomori climbed over the guard railing of the building, hanging on the ledge with his heels and hands on the edge of the rail still to keep himself balanced while he took one last look at the city.
"Hell with this world, and hell with myself. If I can't live a life where I can be happy, even if only for a short moment, then why exist at all? I wanted an easy life; I could finally relax without this. Anything but this sh***y life."
He looked up to the sky, seeing the stars shine brightly in the beautiful blackness, and he let one hand go for a second to flip it off and the heavens above.
"See this. If you even exist at all, f**k you! And this pain you gave me. At least now this is my choice and not yours. Kiss my ass, you lousy excuse of the so-called Lord!"
The hikikomori stopped his offensive rant to reminisce about his life. He kept flashing back to the years he'd been alive up to that point; there wasn't a moment he felt truly happy or even had one friend. He dedicated himself to his studies and being the smartest, but what did he gain from it? Ultimately, nothing; all that effort and self-isolation were worth nothing in the end; he squandered it without realizing it.
The blissful existence that was called youth was gone, wasted all to dedicate himself to his books and grades. He was mad that the hard work went nowhere, his painstaking effort to prove how smart he was to others, that arrogance bit him in the ass hard now.
With one last heavy breath, closing his sullen eyes, he let go of the railing, his feet slowly slipping off the edge, his tears flying through the air like raindrops, the screaming of the air flowing off his body while plummeting to the ground till it hit a passing car that drove under him inside the pavement of the road.
The driver of the car screamed from the sudden crash of the body that slammed on top of the hood, the impact shattering the glass of the windshield. The driver tried to stop the car in their panic, only to hit another car, throwing the hikikomori's body off the destroyed hood into the road. Everyone on the road witnessing the event was in utter disbelief at what happened, leaving their cars either screaming or calling for the authorities. The driver of the car, the hikikomori, was the most horrified, seeing the mangled and bloody body lying on the ground in a puddle of blood pouring out of the hikikomori's body.
His face staring up, no life in the eyes, just the expression of relief of being dead, with satisfaction on it.
No more tears, no more self-hate, just darkness enveloping the hikikomori's soul. Nothingness, just nothingness.
Emergency services had arrived on the scene, taking statements and blocking it off.
The paramedics bagged the body while the officers on scene tried to do crowd control. The bystanders gossip among themselves about what they witnessed.
"Poor kid, what made him do this?"
"Leave it. Maybe it's best not to know. For now, I hope he finds peace wherever he's going."
The bystanders who gossiped sent prayers the hikikomori's way, hoping his soul would finally be at peace now.