Himitsukichi

“You know what you just did goes beyond stalking, right?”

I turn to face the irritating teen girl who just handcuffed me. She has her right hand deep in the pocket of her shorts, wherein the key to the handcuffs lies. As annoying as she may be, I have to give her credit for not being an idiot. She knows damn well that if I were to try and get the key out of her pocket, it’d look bad to any and all strangers passing by. Hell, just being handcuffed to this brat is more than enough to make strangers look at me with disgust. The best I can do right now is talk her out of it.

“Yeah, well, you were being an asshole, so it serves you right!”

She’s just giving me a bratty response. So, I guess this is just a circumstance I’m going to have to put up with for the time being. I have no choice but to continue to the park while being handcuffed to a young girl. I try to up my walking pace a little to see if it’ll make Ariel consider unlocking the handcuffs, but she’s able to keep up with me no problem. She looks at me straight in the eye and talks to me casually, as if there’s nothing weird going on right now.

“So why were you hanging out at that old house? Doesn’t look like you live there.”

I could ignore her, but something tells me she’ll do something even more drastic if I do.

“…I have my own reasons.”

“What kind of reasons?”

“Personal reasons that are none of your business.”

As we talk, a couple walk by and give me a look of disapproval. I don’t live in a small rural town where rumors spread easily or anything like that. However, there’s still a chance that some shithead with a camcorder could come across us, record a video, and then upload it to the internet. Which if that were to happen, I would have to kill myself right then and there. Thankfully, I happen to live in an area surrounded by a forest landscape. For now, I decide to take the two of us into some nearby trees. Ariel seems a bit nervous about this decision.

“…H-How come we’re going into the forest?”

I could lie and pretend that I’m gonna recreate a kill from one of the Berserker Man movies, but let’s be real, that’s way too risky of a bluff to pull off.

“We’re taking a shortcut to the park.”

Instead, I decide to tell a less threatening lie. Going through the nearby forest is going to extend the time it takes for me to get to the park. But I’ll take it if it means avoiding the stares of strangers. Plus, the extra time gives me a chance to think of a way to rid myself of this girl.

“Are you sure this is a good shortcut?”

“Yeah.”

“What if we get lost?”

“We’re not gonna get lost. I used to explore this forest with friends for hours when I was a little kid.”

That’s not a lie. Since I always dreaded going home, I had a habit of exploring the local woods with friends just so I could be out of the house more often. Even though I don’t explore them anymore, the knowledge of which parts of town are connected to what parts of the forest are forever embedded in me. I’m not sure if this was on purpose or not, but this forest feels like a hub world from a platforming game what with all the places in town you can come across just by entering and exiting through the trees.

“…You explored all of this when you were a little kid?”

Ariel looks at me with amazement as she asks. I don’t know why the idea of just “walking around the woods” excites her so much.

“Calm down, it’s not like I climbed Mount Everest. We were just bored kids looking for ways to spend the time is all. Though it has been a while since I last explored…Well, it couldn’t have changed that much, right?”

“D-Don’t say things like that! What if we get lost?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have handcuffed yourself to me then.”

She pouts after I say that. Despite that, she’s still refusing to unlock the handcuffs. Well fine. If she wants to risk the possibility of getting lost and dying in the forest with me, so be it. Silence comes over the two of us as I use childhood memories to traverse through the forest.

“…Now if I recall, we tied various pieces of cloth to certain tree branches to indicate which place a part of the forest was right by…Oh, there’s one of them.”

I see a blue cloth tied to a branch on a tree spinning slightly from the wind. Pretty amazing that no one’s bothered to take them down after all this time…Well, maybe some of them got taken down. Who knows. Ariel is intrigued by the cloth and starts questioning me about it.

“…Your friends tied cloths to trees? That branch is so high up, weren’t you worried about falling while climbing up?”

“Well, we always had the tall kid go and tie the cloths to branches. It’s not like he had to climb all the way to the top. We got the cloths from another kid…Jason. Yeah, that was his name. His parents were tailors, so they had a bunch of random cloth lying around that he’d make small cuts out of, giving us the cloth pieces to put on the trees.”

“Did your friends use the same color cloth for all of the trees?”

“No, we used different colors in order to signify a location. I don’t remember what all the cloths symbolized, but I know we used a green cloth to signify the park.”

She listens to me while staring at the cloth on the tree branch. I don’t understand why she finds this so fascinating. She keeps asking me more questions.

“How much time would you spend outside during the day?”

“Hours. Unless it was raining, then I’d stay in.”

“Wow, really? Did you ever get a sunburn from being out for so long?”

“…Uh, no. Trees provide shade.”

Not that it wasn’t already obvious, but this girl is strange. I must’ve been giving her a rude look, because now she’s blushing red and stammering.

“D-Don’t act like I’m some dumbass! I-I just figured it was possible, even with trees! I haven’t been alive as long as you! I don’t know everything!”

“Oh, so now you admit to being a kid?”

I hit the right nerve at the right moment as now she’s stamping her feet angrily.

“That’s not what I mean you dipshit! I’m not a kid! I just don’t have the same level of ‘wisdom’ that you do!”

“So, you admit that older people tend to know more than someone your age?”

“Urrghhhhhhhhhh!! Just shut the fuck up!”

She kicks me in the shin during her outburst.

“Agh! You little shit!”

I kneel down to hold my leg. While doing so, I notice that Ariel’s having some difficulty keeping her footing due to the handcuffs. I decide to take advantage of the situation and forcefully thrust my right arm forward, which causes her to trip and fall right on her face.

“A-Ahhhhhhhh! …Ghhhhhh…”

She slowly gets up from the grass with scrapes on her knees and tears welling in her eyes. This might sound strange given what I just did, but I actually strongly dislike corporal punishment. I only think it’s okay to hit a kid if said kid is being violent towards you. Given that I was kicked in the shins, my own moral compass tells me that I was justified in my actions, yet despite thinking that, I can’t help but feel kind of bad when I look at her crying face. I’m kind of pathetic, aren’t I?

“…You know, you could end this by just unlocking the cuffs.”

I stand back up while saying that. It would seem to be that despite falling flat on her face, Ariel has no interest in giving up. My statement towards her does nothing but cause her to suck back her tears and make a disgusting snorting noise from her nose.

“N-No way!”

Ariel reaches into her pocket and pulls the key out. Shen then pulls her shirt up to the point where I can see the entirety of her sports bra and puts the key right into said bra. After putting her shirt back down she holds on to my left arm and looks up.

“…If you want the key that badly, you can get it yourself.”

She rubs her budding breasts against my arm as she says this. I think she’s trying to act “seductive”.

“…Right then. Let’s head to the park.”

I keep moving forward and despite her attempts at keeping me from moving, Ariel succeeds in nothing but falling on her face again. Which makes her give up on resisting and we continue through the woods in silence. More random childhood memories bubble up as I take in the scenery. Along with the weird idea to mark and map out the trees of the woods (I don’t even remember who got that plan started in the first place), we’d also sometimes hang out at each other’s homes. I never had anyone come over to my home though, that was too risky.

As I got older, I became less interested in staying outside, especially after some other kids discovered an old, abandoned movie theater. This large empty space was appealing for the more introverted teens among us. We were also intrigued by the fact that although it was an abandoned building, the electricity and plumbing were still working. Whenever this occurs it’s usually because the PearlCoin organization has deemed the building “useful” in some manner. However, we never saw anyone enter or use the theater, and after a few weeks of noticing that no one was using it, us kids decided to make it our own hangout spot.

Along with all basic utilities still being functional, the theater still seemed to be furnished the same way it was when it got abandoned. Meaning that the movie screening rooms still had huge monitors and seats in them. The more tech savvy kids managed to find a way to screw with the projectors that would allow us to watch whatever we wanted on the monitors. Some kids would also set up video game tournaments as well. When I got into drugs, my friends and I enjoyed tripping out to whatever was playing on the monitors.

However, eventually the PearlCoin organization made their appearance when it was revealed that they were preparing to have the building refurbished as an education center for new members. Needless to say, they weren’t happy to discover that a bunch of teenagers were using the place to fool around in, and we were forced to abandon our cool hangout spot. We tried to find another place to hang out at, but nothing was ever as good as the abandoned movie theater.

“…Hey, isn’t that the green cloth you were talking about?”

I’m taken out of my nostalgic spacing out as Ariel points at a tree ahead of us. Sure enough, there’s a tree with a green cloth tied to one of the branches.

“Uh, yeah, right…”

I still haven’t managed to get myself out of the cuffs yet. Worst of all, Ariel has the key hidden somewhere I can’t reach unless I want to become an unforgivable human being. I take a deep breath and exit the forest into the park via the trees. Thankfully there doesn’t seem to be anyone here…for now. I have the two of us head over to one of the benches at the park. Maybe if I just sit around doing nothing, she’ll get bored enough that she’ll want to get away from me. The park here doesn’t really have much outside of a few benches, restrooms that are rarely if ever cleaned, and varying amounts of homeless people hanging out. Today seems to be one of those special days where there’s no homeless people at the park though. Ariel doesn’t seem to mind being here and is picking up random dandelions.

“You know those are technically considered weeds, right?”

I call out to her, and she responds.

“…That can’t be, they’re too pretty to be weeds.”

After responding, she starts blowing on the seeds. Do people really bother with making a wish before blowing on those things? I think that’s just an excuse people made up because they’re worried that just saying “I like how the seeds in the wind look” would make them look dumb to others. Ariel stares into the wind and watches the dandelion seeds blow in the wind. She almost looks serene enough to make me forget that she’s an annoying brat who has me handcuffed to her…almost.

It’s getting to the point where I’m honestly considering going to the dark side and getting the key from her bra. The fact that I’m even considering such a thing makes me question my sanity. But I really don’t know what to do. I guess I could have her take me to her parents to explain the situation? But I don’t know where she lives and if I asked her, she’d most likely lie to keep me handcuffed. Furthermore, her parents might refuse to consider my point of view at all and see me as some molester trying to hurt their daughter. But they would at least get me out of the cuffs eventually, if nothing else. But how long would that take? She seems determined to keep me by her side for as long as possible and I just want to get away.

I aimlessly look around the park while thinking about what to do. Let’s see, I know paper clips can be used to unlock handcuffs but there sure as hell aren’t any of those around here. Uhh…I know with rope, you can rub it against a surface long enough until it breaks, but that obviously doesn’t work for metal. Is inappropriately touching a young girl really the only way for me to get out of this situation? No, I gotta figure something out…Hmm, looking at the restrooms is giving me an idea. A rather juvenile idea that could fail if Ariel is stubborn enough, a perverted degenerate, or both. But it’s still preferable to groping. I get up from the bench and start walking. The movement forces Ariel up and she awkwardly walks behind me.

“H-Hey, where are we going?”

She looks confused. I decide to not answer her question and keep heading to the restrooms. I’ve heard that cleaning the park restrooms is considered a type of special punishment for low ranking PearlCoin members. I don’t know what misbehavior specifically calls for this punishment but given that the restrooms at best still look and smell pretty gross, I’m going to assume that this is a punishment said PearlCoin members try to avoid as best they can. Once I step into the entrance of the men’s restroom, I feel resistance coming from Ariel.

“U-Umm! W-What are we doing here?”

I look over to see her blushing red and looking uncomfortable. It’s good to see that she still seems to have something resembling purity in her heart. It’s exactly what I need for my plan to work.

“Isn’t it obvious? I need to use the bathroom.”

“Y-Yeah but…This is the is the men’s bathroom…”

She’s looking down at the floor and fidgeting nervously.

“Yeah and? I’m a man.”

She raises her head a little and I can see that her blushing has only deepened. I figure it’s best to not show her any mercy.

“What? Did you seriously not consider the possibility of this happening when you decided to cuff us together? How stupid can you be?”

She gives me an irritated look for a few seconds before reaching into her bra and pulling the key out.

“…F-Fine…”

She finally unlocks the handcuffs and I’m free. My plan worked. I’d be in real trouble if she decided to call me on my bluff.

“You…You go do your business and I’ll wait outside for you.”

She’s awfully naïve, isn’t she? She’s really acting as if I’d just willingly allow myself to get cuffed to her again.

“Yeah, I don’t need to go. That was just a plan for you to uncuff me and it worked. See ya.”

I inform her while walking out of the restroom. She looks shocked as if I betrayed her. I have no idea why. Did she think that we were bonding or something throughout this idiotic endeavor?  I can hear her shouting increasingly nonsensical insults at me in a voice that’s choking on tears as I leave the park.

“Douchebag! Shithead! Fuckass! Smegma brain!”

She seems to see herself as the victim here, and I have no idea why. I’ve had more than enough shenanigans for the day, so I head straight home back to my apartment.

It’s almost 3 by the time I’m back home. I proceed to rummage through my DVDs to find something to watch and pick some random pornos to watch. You know, it’s strange. I don’t really watch pornos for the sake of sexual arousal. I watch them for potential entertainment value and don’t see them as really all that different from other regular movies. Well okay, I mean, obviously the content is quite different from the average film, but the point still stands.

The first porno I watched was pretty forgettable. It was some 1980s flick about a slutty woman being a slut and nothing more to it beyond that. I would’ve fallen asleep if it weren’t for the actress loudly faking her orgasms. The next porno I put it wasn’t boring at the very least, but I still had some issues with it. It was basically a sexualized take on the incestuous hillbilly stereotype with a family of rednecks who like to fuck each other.

There’s quite a bit of debate out there when it comes to whether sexual fetishes are a nature or a nurture thing. From what I’ve read about it, the truth seems to be a mixture of both. Because while there certainly are cases where it’s clear that some people are just born with strange paraphilias, you can also find instances where someone’s paraphilia originated from incidents that left a mark on them psychologically. A notable example of this is that it’s not uncommon for people who were traumatized from growing up in abusive, unloving households to develop a fetish for incest.

While that certainly is the case for some people…I can’t say it’s the case for me. If anything, growing up with the family I had impacted me the opposite way. I find incest porn to not just be a turn off, but completely revolting. Which makes me rather dumb for having decided to watch this incest porno. I ultimately ended up turning it off half an hour in when I could no longer stomach the redneck girl screaming “daddy” while getting plowed in the ass. I ended up settling on a Japanese scat film where petite Japanese girls spent 70 minutes shitting out more shit than the average human being has ever shat their entire life.

After watching a few more nondescript porn films, I decided to go into my room to browse the internet a bit. There’s a thread on PSDS discussing the made-up mental illnesses that therapists in LOVE diagnose citizens with as a way to discourage independent thought. These include things such as “Dissociative Depression”, “Hyperactive Narcissism”, and “Delusional Anxiety”. Getting diagnosed with these illnesses guarantee a massive loss of LOVE POINTS and more often than not, getting sent to a “mental health center” only a day after the diagnosis is received.

I spent the rest of my evening browsing through the thread, soaking up information that frankly isn’t all that relevant to my life. Still, is it wrong to want to learn about things even if I’ll most likely never have any use for the information? I had a pretty weird day today, and not in a good way. I suppose I should be thankful that I managed to get out of that situation with Ariel without anyone I know learning about it. I can only hope that tomorrow will be more peaceful.

Author’s Note: I don’t have anything comment about with this chapter. It’s just more events that move the story along happening.

Yet another day, yet another morning of being woken up early by my doorbell. I check my phone to see that once again, she’s come exactly at 8. You know, I like sleeping in and I’m not the kind of person who can easily go back to sleep after being woken up. But I guess this is how my life’s going to be for the time being. Thus, I once again engage in my new morning routine of forcing myself out of bed, heading to the door, greeting Blanche, getting my food, and then talking with her for a bit. We don’t usually talk about anything too interesting. Just generic “How are you” like statements and other such things. But today I felt like bringing up Bernie.

“…Weird thing to mention, but are you familiar with a guy named Bernie? He’s a co-worker of mine and I know he’s kind of famous at the clinic.”

She pauses for a few seconds before answering.

“…Oh yes, ‘The Human Punching Bag’… I really dislike that nickname. I know of him, but I don’t really see him often. I have been seeing his wife Holly though, as I’ve been assigned to assist her throughout her pregnancy. They both seem to be happy and healthy all things concerned, and my job requires that it stays that way for them. Is there a reason you brought him up?”

“No reason really.”

This leads to an awkward pause before we give our goodbyes and Blanche leaves. I’m not hungry right now, so I put the food into the fridge before heading back to my room. I have the day off today, and due to being woken up early that gives me more time for productive things. However, I am not a productive human being in the least, so I’m just going to spend this extra time browsing the internet. There’s some interesting discussion on PSDS due to the article that was posted on the main pursuitspecial blog today. It’s about the existence of race and sex segregated residential towers in LOVE.

These towers are referred to in LOVE as “Trauma Victim Residential Towers” and they were first built around 30 years ago. It was stated by the government that the idea was to give people who were so traumatized by sexism/racism fueled abuse their own place where they can live safely. However, there are several problems with that claim. The main one being that a citizen is required to have a high amount of LOVE POINTS in order to be given permission to move into one of these towers.

So, if you’re a citizen of LOVE suffering abuse over your sex/race and you don’t appease the LOVER ideology enough to accumulate the LOVE POINTS required…Well, you’re just gonna have to suck it up.

Ultimately, these “Trauma Victim Residential Towers” would end up being populated entirely by people who abuse others due to sex/race rather than the other way around. Plus, the fact that there are people who are born and raised in these towers is enough to make one question the real purpose of these towers. After all, how can a newborn need a place to feel safe from trauma when they haven’t even been alive enough to form long lasting memories?

The blog post also featured some interesting testimonies from people who were born and raised in these towers. A guy born in one of the race-based towers talked about how everyone was required to take yearly DNA tests in order to make sure no one was lying about their racial genetic makeup, and how these tests had a tendency to change what they considered appropriate year by year. Leading to people who had passed a test prior before being kicked out if they didn’t pass the next year. As one can imagine, this tended to break up families and lovers.

Another girl talked about her life growing up in a female only tower. Turns out, there were also purity tests going on in her tower. You see, the people living in the sex segregated towers do so because they’re obviously not fond of the opposite sex. However, they also live in LOVE, a part of the world that prides itself on its highly advanced sex change surgeries. As you can imagine, this leads to paranoia from members in the sex segregated towers about if someone was always naturally female or became that way via surgery.

If this was back in the old world where sex change surgery was more rudimentary, it’d be much easier to tell. But with LOVE’s advanced surgeries that keep you fertile and change your chromosomes? Suddenly it’s a lot more difficult to tell whose always been female since birth and who wasn’t, especially when the government of LOVE reward LOVE POINTS to those who get said surgery.

This paranoia leads to a lot of witch hunts and violent attacks against others. Which more often than not, just hurt people who never had sex change surgery of any kind. According to a guy on PSDS who grew up in a male only tower, a similar paranoia was also there, with similar consequences. The girl also talked about how couples in sex segregated towers had children. Now in LOVE, it is actually possible for same sex couples to have children on their own accord if they get surgeries like Landica Extensio, wherein a woman is given a penis but otherwise stays female and Perineum Incisus, which you guessed it, is when a man now has a vagina but otherwise remains male. However, LOVERS who live in sex segregated towers tend to hate the opposite sex to the point where even getting such surgeries nauseates them.

So, the sex segregated towers of LOVE have an unusual system wherein habitants of the male only towers donate semen to habitants of the female only towers. Once a female couple is incubated, the medical practitioners of the tower then engage in some mild genetic engineering in order to guarantee that one female baby is born for the female couple and that one male baby is born and sent to the male couple. Not only is it an incredibly convoluted way to have children, but also somewhat controversial even among LOVERS due to the fact that genetic engineering is applied to make sure that both couples get a child. However, the government of LOVE has stated that this is the only circumstance in which they use genetic engineering. So they say, but testimonies from people who’ve been experimented on in “mental health centers” say otherwise.

I thought I spent a good amount of time being absorbed with reading the blog and the forum thread that accompanied it, but once I finished reading it, I saw that it was only 9:20 AM. I decide to go get my food back out of the fridge. Today’s meal is a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup and salad. While that’s all heating up, I rummage around my DVD collection to find something interesting to watch. I eventually stumble upon an old anime called Bomba-chan.

Bomba-chan is about a cute Bombardier Beetle girl (because the Japanese have made it their mission to turn anything and everything into cute anime girls) learning how to properly control her spraying defense mechanism with comedy shenanigans aplenty. It was pretty big back in the day and even now people still like to talk about it. Mildred herself tends to refer to Bomba-chan as a “top tier waifu”.

The Bomba-chan fandom has a peculiar history. Although it was an adaptation of a manga made by a guy who had a history of making fart fetish manga, the anime managed to be wholesome enough that it attracted a surprisingly high number of “normal” people who just saw it as a cute show about learning to accept one’s self. These “normal” people would constantly harass fan artists for lewding Bomba-chan even though anyone who did the most basic research on Bomba-chan knew it’s lewd origins. Then the second season aired, which was more blatantly fetishy/lewd than the last, to the point of even having a new loli character introduced. This enraged the “normal” people so much that they decried the show and pretended that they never liked it in the first place. This happened years ago, but it’s still funny to joke about.

I watch about four episodes or so before I decide that maybe I should probably go take a shower and then head outside the apartment for a bit. While I’m in the bathroom, I’m struck with a dilemma; I don’t really know where to go as I tend to only go outside for work and shopping for things I can’t just order online. This is an issue because I’ve been finding myself on a downward trajectory towards becoming a shut-in that neglects personal hygiene, and that’s a fate I’m desperately trying to avoid. But I also have no real place to “hang out” at either, not since high school. Well, I guess I have Marisa’s grave, even if that’s not much.

…I guess I’ll go to Marisa’s grave then.

The abandoned house I buried Marisa at looks as decrepit as ever. I’ve never actually gone inside it despite having a curiosity about it. It’s not even because I think it’d be disrespectful to the people who last lived in it or anything like that…It’s because I’m deeply worried about encountering spiders in there. Not only that, but I’m paranoid at the idea that some random passerby could come across me screaming at the sight of spiders. Look, when I was a kid, my siblings would use my aversion to spiders as an easy way to get me to do what they wanted, and I just can’t afford to let others know this weakness of mine after that.

My mental deliberation of if I should explore the house or not is soon interrupted by a loud voice.

“Hey! You’re that annoying guy from the store!”

I turn to see a small ginger girl pointing at me…Ah yeah, I recognize her.

“Oh, well if it isn’t Mermaid Girl.”

She stops pointing at me and looks confused.

“M-Mermaid Girl!? Where did that come from!?”

“Oh, you don’t like that? How about ‘God’s Lion’?”

Her confusion has now morphed into blustered anger.

“I-I’m not a mermaid or a lion! I’m just Ariel, a regular human girl!”

Okay that’s enough fucking around with her over her name.

“I’m just joking, I know you. You ever got a chance to watch any of the Berserker Man movies?”

She looks at me suspiciously, not knowing if I’m still fucking with her or not. But answers honestly.

“…I came across a streaming website that had them on there, tried watching the first one, but then turned it off 20 minutes in because it was that bad.”

It should be noted that the first kill occurs twenty minutes in the first Berserker Man. There is a chance that she turned off the movie because of its graphic content…If it weren’t for the fact that the first Berserker Man is the least gory out of the whole series.

“…Yeah, nobody likes the first one, it’s pretty mediocre. The kills are lame and the Berserker Man character wasn’t fully thought out yet. That said, it’s still better than the one where he was in space.”

Ariel is now giving me the kind of baffled look that any reasonable person gives when they learn of Berserker Man 7: Beyond the Stars.

“…There was one where he went to space?”

“Yup.”

From what I’ve read, it wasn’t even supposed to be a Berserker Man movie. It was originally just a really shitty sci-fi script about a spaceship crew all dying of a “mysterious illness” that turned out to be someone on the crew betraying and poisoning them. The studio hastily rewrote the script to feature Berserker Man, and this led to the creation of a movie so terrible that even Mildred, someone who loves trashy B-movies, can’t stomach it.

Ariel pipes up with a question.

“…How come you’re okay with talking to me about these movies now?”

“Because I’m not on shift. I didn’t sell you the movies, so even if you did get traumatized by them, it wouldn’t be my problem. By the way, it’s not good manners to get pissy at an employee just trying to follow their boss’ orders.”

“…I only got pissy because you were treating me like a little kid.”

She’s acting much calmer compared to that time at the store. That’s nice.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you about that beyond ‘tough luck’. You may not be a ‘child’ per say, but you’re still a kid at 14.”

Admittedly, what makes someone an “adult” is a bit more blurry in a time and place where age of consent laws aren’t a thing. Sure, most people find the idea of molesting children to be abhorrent and it’s not uncommon for business and landlords to have regulations regarding people under 18, but that doesn’t change the fact that there will always be sick people in world. It can get to the point where some territories have their own child porn studios to exploit children with.

Since there aren’t any laws against this, no one can really do anything about the sexual exploitation and molestation of children outside of mob justice, and from what I’ve seen from online anecdotes, angry anti-child molesting mobs almost always go after the wrong people, never actually catch perpetrators, turn out to be engaging in the very same behavior they were building a mob over, or a mixture of all three.

It’s unfortunate to say, but actual successful justice against child molesters is few and far between all the failures. But I doubt I could properly explain all this to Ariel, who’s now pouting at the fact that I called her a “kid”. Even though I conceded that she’s not a ‘child’. Of course, that’s still not good enough for her.

“Can you really call me a ‘kid’ when I have pubic hair, and I’ve been getting my period for two years now? In fact, I’m having my period right now!”

…You know, I was expecting her to talk back, I just wasn’t expecting her to be that blunt.

“…Just so you know, an actual adult would know not to bring up those sorts of things around strangers.”

“I don’t agree that we’re strangers. Sure, we don’t really know each other, but we’ve been talking for a bit, and I think it’s okay for me to tell you about personal things. You may be kind of annoying, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

I have no idea what part of interacting with me gave her the impression that I can’t possibly be a bad guy. Sure, I’m so physically weak that even trying to start something with a little girl could end badly for me, but there are many other ways a ‘bad guy’ can hurt someone. Ariel starts to fish something out of her pockets.

“…Besides, even if you are a bad guy, my parents gave me these!”

She pulls out a pair of handcuffs from her shorts.

…Yes handcuffs. The things that police officers would use to take people to jail back in the old world. Nowadays the only people who own those are collectors, kidnappers, and BDSM enthusiasts. I guess the idea her parents have is that she can trick a creep into the handcuffs and then…Leave them to die? Take them to her parents? I find the logic here confusing. I feel like if you’re a parent worried about your kid getting attacked, you should probably just get them a gun, taser, or any kind of weapon really. I dunno, maybe her parents are pacifists.

“See? I’ll be okay if someone tries to hurt me!”

“Ugh, fine. I get it. Look, I’m gonna head off to somewhere else now so uh…You go have fun with your handcuffs.”

I decide to end the conversation and leave the abandoned house. Looking at my phone I can see that it’s 2 PM. I’ve only been out for less than two hours. I feel that if I want to successfully avoid becoming a shut-in, I need to be out of the house for at least three hours. But I don’t know where to go. Thanks to Blanche, grocery shopping isn’t really something I need to do right now. I suppose I could go to the rec center, but the people there tend to get mad if you just loiter around in the lobby, and there’s no way in hell I’m wasting money on a random class or game of basketball. I guess I could just walk around aimlessly, but that doesn’t sit right with me.

Maybe I could try the park? The problem with the park is that it’s not uncommon to find homeless people living there and… I’m not going to say that I dislike all homeless people, however I do find that most homeless people are so far gone mentally that It’s better to avoid them as much as possible. So, I guess I’ll head to the park and if there’s homeless people there I’ll just head home regardless of if I met my goal of being outside for three hours or not. With that in mind, I make my way to the local park.

…However, as I’m heading towards the park, I noticed something. I’m being followed. By Mermaid Girl. I figure that it’s best to treat her as if she doesn’t have malicious intent. For now.

“So, where are you headed too?”

I stop walking and ask her a simple question.

“Oh, I just felt like hanging out with you, so I‘m going wherever you’re going.”

I have no idea where she got the idea that I’m okay with her following me around. This is a misconception I should clear up fast. I’d really rather not start getting a reputation for being overly friendly with young girls.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to hang out with me.”

“…Do I need permission? You’re just walking around and so am I.”

“You’re aware that stalking was considered a crime in the old world, right?”

“I-I’m not stalking you! I’m not planning on following you home or anything like that! I just wanna hang out! What’s wrong with that!?”

“What’s wrong with that is I refuse to get hassled by people over a possible misconception of me being a molester that would be entirely your fault.”

“…How would hanging out with me make people think you’re a molester?”

This response caused me to bury my face in my hands for what was probably no more for a few seconds but felt like minutes. I can still hear her talking.

“…Hey, why are you acting like I said something stupid? How would the two of us hanging out make people think you’re a molester? That’s makes no sense!”

She really doesn’t get it, does she? I’m actually going to have to explain this to her.

“Ugh, God. Okay look… I’ll explain it as simply as possible. I’m an adult, you’re not an adult. Furthermore, we’re not family in any way whatsoever. When people see strange adults hanging around kids like you, they get suspicious of the intentions of said strange adult. Do you understand now?”

She puts her hand to her chin and ponders what I say for a moment.

“…I can see how that can be an issue. But it’s not like you’re approaching me or acting creepy, so I don’t see the issue at all. If someone gets suspicious, we can just explain things to them. And I’m 14! It’s not like I’m a little kid!”

She doesn’t get it. At all.

“You…Are way too optimistic about people. Look, why are you so bent on hanging out with me? Don’t you have scho-wait it’s Saturday… Don’t you have friends from school your own age you can hang out with?”

“I don’t wanna hang out with the kids from school, they’re stupid assholes!”

“Yeah, well, most people are stupid assholes regardless of age.”

This is going nowhere. It seems to be the more I try to get her to stop following me, the more pushy and emboldened she gets. I don’t get why she’s so obsessed with hanging around me of all people. Perhaps it’s just one of those cases of “being in the wrong place at the wrong time” for me.

CLICK

I feel cold metal against my right wrist. The reason I feel cool metal is because there’s a handcuff around said wrist. To my side I see Ariel with a handcuff around her wrist and a smug look on her face.

“Guess you got no choice but to let me hang out with you now.”

I should’ve just stayed home and continued the path to being a shut-in.

Author’s Note: This arc is starting to get a bit spicy. I admit I’m finding myself a bit hesitant with posting the later chapters, given the increasingly pro-censorship world that we live in. But then I realized, if I don’t post the rest of this arc, then the pro-censorship people win. There’s a reason I put up the age verification on the website, and even with that provision, someone’s definitely gonna get pissy at me about the subject matter for this arc.

It’s been about three days since Blanche started coming to my apartment to deliver me food. Outside of getting some extra food and being forced awake early for it, nothing else has really changed. It’s a bit too early to tell if the food she’s giving me is helping me gain weight or not after all. I’ve also got work today and am on shift. Mildred’s absent, not because she’s out on another expedition, but because she’s been working a lot lately and wants to take some time off for her family. So, it’s just me and Liam today. But given Liam’s typical attitude of never saying more than a single word of confirmation, it might as well just be me and a drone working together. The door opens and a burly man walks in only to trip and fall over himself.

…I recognize that guy. It’s Bernie.

Bernie is a rather extroverted and forward guy, the opposite of me. After the original email exchange we had, I had assumed that would be the end of interaction between us. Bernie however, saw the event as the beginning of a new friendship. He started sending me more casual emails about how his day went and wanting to know about how my day went. Not wanting to make an enemy out of a co-worker, I went along with it. The amount of personal information that he’s exchanged with me since is concerning. Over the past week or so I’ve come to learn far more about Bernie’s home life than I ever thought I would. I now know about life in his crowded house with his pregnant wife and seven children. I also know about his parents, the 3D printed gun store they run, and how they’re currently preparing to retire and have his younger sister take over. All I did was send him one message and now he won’t stop telling me his life story.

Bernie’s told me that he only talks this much with people he trusts. Even though I’ve done nothing worthy of his trust. It’s not like I’ve been giving meaningful replies about my life. All that’s been going on has just been him sending long paragraphs about his life with images to me (which is how I learned what he looks like), and then me just replying with a few simple sentences that don’t really say anything about me or my life whatsoever. Yet despite this incredibly shallow form of interaction, Bernie has decided that he likes me enough that he wants to actually meet me in real life and not just talk via email exchanges. I told him that really wasn’t necessary but it’s obvious that he disagrees given that he’s now visiting the store while I’m on shift. After he gets up from face planting on the floor, he walks right up to me. I’m taken aback by how he has the physique of someone who could pulverize me if he were less friendly. He examines me a bit before introducing himself.

“…You’re Gray, right? You seem to fit Mildred’s description. I can see why she made a joke about you being a vampire.”

I’d appreciate it if Mildred didn’t make dumb jokes about me when I’m not around.

“…Uh, yeah, that’s me. Is there any reason why you’re here?”

I’m not sure what he’s hoping to achieve from this. It doesn’t help that he won’t stop scratching his back, which just makes this feel weirder.

“Like I said in the email, I wanted to see you in real life!”

“…Yeah, but I’m on shift right now, so this isn’t really the best time for chit chat.”

This is of course, total bullshit. Things get boring when there aren’t any customers around, to the point where even an introvert like me needs to find some way to not be bored. I just don’t want to talk to Bernie.

“Hey, that just means we can hang out some other time! Actually, this is a good time to ask, what’s your phone number? Do you have a cell phone?”

I do have a cell phone, but mostly just to use as a clock and occasionally to call a store/business if I have a question and don’t feel like going there. I don’t really like to deal with random calls from people as I’d rather not get my phone bill up too high. I’ve heard too many horror stories of what the PearlCoin Organization has done to people late on their payments and I don’t want any of that to happen to me.

“…Yeah, I do. If I give you my number, you’re not just going to drive up my phone bill with long phone conversations, right? My sister did that all the time when I was young and my family nearly got in trouble over it.”

He laughs at my question as if he thinks I’m making a joke.

“Hah hah hah! No! It’d just be a convenient way to invite you to hang out! Much better than using email.”

That wasn’t a joke. There was an incident where my sister drove the phone bill so high, that my parents were late paying the phone bill and we were threatened by PearlCoin goons. Even my brother was scared. That incident led to my sister being banned from talking to her friends on the phone for six months.

“…I’m not one for casual hangouts, plus I’m pretty sure I’d bore you.”

“Nonsense! I’ve been liking what you’ve been sending me in the emails!”

I have no idea how casually responding to information about his life and then only giving vague details about my own life is appealing to him, but it’s clear that he’s not going to back down. As much as I’d love to be an asshole and find a method to push him off of me, there’s no way in hell I could get away with doing that to a guy of Bernie’s size.

“…Fine, I’ll do it.”

And so, the two of us exchanged cell phone numbers. I’m probably going to regret this, but I don’t really have any other choice. I cannot emphasize how much I don’t understand what the hell Bernie sees in me.

“Well, I’ll see you later then! I need to head to the drug store. I fell into a poison ivy bush earlier and the itchiness is driving me crazy!”

He gives his goodbyes as he leaves the store. At least I understand why he was scratching his back now. Even though I’ve only recently started any form of interaction with Bernie, I’ve been aware of him before. He’s kind of famous among workers at the store and Mildred’s talked to me about him several times. For whatever reason, Bernie seems to have been born with an incredibly bizarre streak of bad luck. He struggled with a weak constitution as a child, was and still is extremely clumsy, and has a tendency to wind up in the wrong place at the wrong time. He has been threatened by random hooligans and PearlCoin Organization members (apparently, he resembles a high-ranking member from their main rivals, the ConchDollar Group), has suffered an injury in just about every body part you could imagine, and has gotten the brunt of all sorts of nasty illnesses. It’s to the point where he’s a regular at the clinic and everyone who works there knows him by name.

Yet despite all that, Bernie’s still standing. His existence is strange enough to make Mildred question if he’s actually human or just a joke made up by God. The joke hypothesis does make more sense when you consider that his family owns a 3D printed gun shop. To his family’s credit, they have banned Bernie from ever stepping foot in the store presumably because of his bad luck, and I imagine it’s also why his sister is taking the reign of being the current owner instead of him. My thoughts are interrupted by me getting a text message from Bernie saying “TEST”. To which I promptly send a confirmation reply to. Liam comes up to me with a duster.

“…Mildred wants you to dust the front counter.”

Right, Liam only talks when I have to do something, I’ve never worked alone with him before and this current shift is teaching me that working alone with Liam is unbearable. A customer (or someone else) comes in, I talk with them, they leave, Liam gives me a single sentence telling me to do something, I do that thing until someone else enters the store, and the cycle repeats. Look, I may not be one for making friendships out of a single email, but I still need someone to keep my shifts from being boring. But that’s not how Liam works, and several more hours go by with this torturous cycle of working with him continuing.

It feels like I’ve been stuck with Liam for a week, but no, it’s still the same shift and it’s getting near to closing time. The later hours of the night shift tend to be quiet outside of the occasional drunk or drug addict, of which there appear to be none showing up tonight. In short, this is quite possibly one of the most boring shifts I’ve ever worked and I demand conversation from Liam, who has somehow managed to make me look sociable by comparison. How the hell do I get a conversation out of him anyways? I know Mildred has had conversations with him, with her claim that “he’s willing to talk to me because I too was a socially awkward otaku”, but it could also be that even Liam knows it’s a bad idea to not respond to your boss. But whatever, I’m bored and I’m tired of Liam never saying anything, so I decide to come up to him while he’s in the midst of stocking video games on the shelves.

“How’re you doing?”

“…Fine.”

A typical, short reply from him. That’s no good.

“Nah, I mean. How’s life going?”

He looks up at me irritated.

“…If you have the time for idle chit-chat, you have the time to help me out.”

…You know what, that works. If I managed to get an actual sentence out of him from that, surely I can start a conversation while helping him out.

“Sure, okay.”

I go to get some games out of the box by Liam to put on the shelves. All of the video games sold here would be referred to as “bootlegs” in the old world. Due to the fact that game emulators have become so powerful in recent years (even including emulation of old PCs), most people don’t really bother with original copies of video games these days unless they’re collectors. As such, people like Mildred tend to repackage games into emulated versions with new changes implemented to make games look and run better than the original releases. Add in some bonus games, and even some sprite swaps, and you have a product people are willing to buy over the original. Of course, there are those collectors who not only want the original game in the original package, but also with the original console. So, we have a few of those as well, but since collectors don’t frequently come here, those items tend to collect dust.

A common type of release that gets made are multiple game packs containing several games centered around either a common theme, developer, franchise, and so on. This 5 in 1 farming sim game pack I’m holding on to is a good example of the average type of game release from a store like ours. But of course, people don’t have to buy gaming packs, they can just download ROMs and ISOs online, however those come with the risk of being infected with malware. Specifically, the type that uses another person’s computer for cryptocurrency farming thus causing even the best computers to burn up while playing a game.

…Hmm, this game pack I’m holding could make for a good ice breaker.

“…You play video games? I only really play sim games myself. I actually remember being big on these sorts of farming games as a kid.”

Liam remains silent, but he looks my way.

“…”

“Yeah, so what I liked about these games was that along with making something like farming surprisingly fun, you also had the whole town of characters to talk to and even get married too. My brother used to make fun of me for playing them, and it gave me kind of a complex about it during high school.”

“…That was mean of him.”

Okay, I managed to get another sentence out of him. A simple sentence sure, but a sentence, nonetheless.

“I also like business sims. There was this theme park one I was really into back in the day. Mostly ‘cause I enjoyed making extreme roller coasters that would kill the visitors or just picking them up and dropping them into lakes. My sister would call me barbaric and disgusting over that, which also lead to a complex for a short time.”

“…That was mean of her.”

…I’m just getting minor variations of the same sentiment. This isn’t working. I’m going to force conversation out of him even if it kills me.

“Enough about me, do you play video games? Or do you just have any stories about your siblings?”

“…I’m an only child.”

I need to bring up something that’ll guarantee me more than just simple one sentence responses. But to get that from someone like Liam, I would need to bring up something that would cause him to go on a tangent. But because he’s so tight lipped, it’s difficult to get a read of him. Mildred did mention him being a “socially awkward otaku”, so perhaps I could bring up CLOCK, the greatest anime ever made. The only issue with that is that I cannot talk about the scene where the main character and his daughter finally bond together as parent and child over his dead wife without getting emotional. I need casual conversation, and discussing emotionally powerful anime will just make me have a teary breakdown in public. Maybe I should just give up on this.

…But I’m still bored, and that’s a problem. Sure, putting stuff back on the shelves is giving me something to do, but I feel unsatisfied with how things are going. Perhaps I should just accept my inevitable fate of death by boredo-

“…Hey, could you go to the backroom? …There’s one more box that needs to be taken out… You’ll see it under a sign that says ‘boxes to empty’.”

“Sure, but weren’t you getting all the other boxes out?”

He explains in a surprisingly direct manner, and without pausing.

“Because you were at the front counter and not helping me, now could you please get that box?”

Interesting. He’s one of those types who’s quiet and doesn’t speak much until you get on his nerves. Granted, it’s really not that shocking, but still worth nothing.

…Actually, that gives me an idea. I’m going to play a prank on Liam. Nothing too crazy, I’m just going to spend a long time in the backroom until Liam decides to check on me and then startle him. Is it mean? Maybe just a little. But I’m at a point where I’m desperate to get anything from Liam. I walk back into the backroom as requested, and see the box as instructed, located just to the right side of the door. I can make this work. I just need to keep the lights off and hide myself behind the side of the box not by the door. Of course, I’m going to need to wait a bit, and I don’t know how long that’ll take. But I figure while I’m waiting, I can look through the stuff in this box. Sure, I’m keeping the lights off for the sake of my prank, but there’s a nightlight right by me that I can use to examine the products in here.

This box seems to be filled with DVDs of various movies and a few TV show episode sets. The concept of TV has radically changed since the old world ended. Since all of the big corporations are a part of LOVE, all television outside of LOVE is owned by the local cryptocurrency group. I suppose the old world term “public-access television” is the most accurate description for shows produced in the territories. Whatever is on TV will differ greatly depending on where you live and how much your local cryptocurrency group gives a shit. PearlCoin kind of gives a shit, mostly because helping produce entertaining shows can entice people into joining their ranks. I don’t really watch TV these days, but from what I remember as a kid…There was the daily news segment, talk shows ranging from boring people talking about boring things to conspiracy theorists getting into fist fights with each other, random documentaries that looking back I’m pretty sure were mostly fabricated, and the occasional cartoon that appealed to child me.

I remember there was this one show about talking fruit characters re-enacting stories from the bible. The creator of the show also had a strong stance against censoring the bible. I know this because I will never forget watching the episode about Sodom and Gomorrah as a seven year old and witnessing banana Lot being taken advantage of by his strawberry daughters and the daughters giving birth to raspberry Moab and Ammon. There has been much debate with people my age over whether the show was made by an extremely devout Christian who didn’t give a shit about traumatizing children, or an atheist who wanted to take the piss out of Christianity by traumatizing children.

“…Hey, are you still in there?”

Liam’s starting to get impatient. It’d be best to not reply so that he can come to the room faster and I can get to freaking him out already. I keep browsing through the DVDs. DVDs aren’t the most high quality video format out there, but after the world split, they became the most popular format in the territories if only because the more high-quality video formats were owned by companies that became part of LOVE. On that note, since the territories have no copyright laws, bootleg DVDs of all sorts of media are always being made and sold. If I were to wager a guess, I’d say that 8 out of 10 DVDs sold in all territories are bootlegs, especially if they’re from something that was released near the split due to everything being only available on streaming services at that time. That’s not to say that streaming still isn’t a thing, it’s just all that all streaming websites are either what people in the old world would refer to as “piracy websites” or they’re the official streaming sites of whatever territory they’re from. It’s usually the former as most cryptocurrency groups can’t be bothered to do the latter.

That isn’t to say that “legitimate” releases of movies and the like don’t exist and that people don’t seek them out. It’s just that the “bootlegs” are much easier to come by, are usually just straight up copies of the original “legitimate” releases and may even come with extra bonuses that make them of even greater value to a collector than the actual “legitimate” release. Sure, they’re not in HD, but there are HD torrents for many famous movies available, and AI has gotten quite good at upscaling old movies from the old world that never got HD re-releases. The current box I’m looking through seems to be filled with releases of the various type of shows that were shown in this area…There’s even a DVD of the Christian fruit cartoon, with a cover of pomegranate Jesus on the cross.

I can finally hear the sound of Liam’s footsteps. I put the DVD I currently have in my hands back into the box and close it up, right before crouching low enough that I can be hidden from view. As his footsteps get closer, I can hear him grumbling to himself as well.

“…I tell him to do one simple thing and he just disappears on me…Why are the lights off?”

Now the door’s opening and here’s my chance. As Liam fumbles around looking for the light switch, I jump out to him.

“…EIYA…”

I had no real plan of what to say when jumping out of him so all that came out was the first random thing to pop in my head.

“Aaah!!!”

But it doesn’t seem like whatever noise came out of my mouth would matter in the end, because my prank appears to have been successful. I turn on the lights and I can see that Liam’s clinging on to the door frame and looks like he suffered a heart attack.

“…W-Why did you do that?”

He asks me with a shaking voice. Although I’m aware of how bad this’ll make me look, I have no real choice but to answer honestly.

“…I was bored.”

Liam looks at me as if I just admitted to burning down orphanages.

“…A-Are you a psychopath?”

“I’ve never been diagnosed with anything, but I’m fairly certain that I’m not a psychopath. That said, I’m pretty sure I’m a high functioning retard.”

While that self-deprecating comment managed to calm him down, it did nothing to lessen Liam’s newfound negative perception of me. The rest of the shift went by with an awkward atmosphere between the both of us. Neither of us exchanged anymore words with each other until it was time to lock up the store, to which Liam said to me;

“…I can’t tell if I despise or pity you.”

Well, it’s not like he’s fully confident in hating me. So that’s something.

Author’s Note: The beginning of a new arc. I should note that this arc is seven chapters long compared to the four chapters of the previous one. This chapter is also a bit of a filler chapter as this arc is going to center around a certain ginger girl more. I get that filler is usually a bad thing, but I do plan on fleshing Bernie and Liam out more in future arcs, so I’m fine with them getting small cameos here…Just ignore the fact that I haven’t written anything more beyond this second arc. But ideally, I’m just trying to engage in some mild character building even if certain characters aren’t important to the current arc.

Oh another note, I do wonder how my way of doing pop culture references will come off to others. I have characters who are nerdy and work in a store related to nerdy things, so pop culture references do feel kind of necessary. But I also don’t really want to directly name anything either as this story doesn’t take place in the real world, so parodies of stuff people aware of those proprieties can easily recognize works for me. But does it work for other people?

Mildred and I head outside to lock up the store. The night breeze is cool and pleasant. Things are silent with the exception of cricket noises. While locking the door, Mildred starts talking to me.

“…We didn’t really talk at all this shift, did we?”

Since not a whole lot of people come to the store during evening shifts, we usually tend to spend the time chatting about random topics. These can range from mundane discussions about current events going on in the world all the way to philosophizing about the meaning of life. Seeing that Mildred recently came back from an expedition of hers, we could’ve talked about all her new acquisitions. But I guess I was just too busy being lost in my thoughts to say anything. Mildred keeps talking to me.

“I thought for sure you’d have something to say about all those mockbuster movies I found. I mean, Das Foot!? How obvious can you get? … Is something bothering you?”

Although she may be a misanthrope, Mildred is also the kind of person who wants to be attentive towards the few people she cares about. The problem with that is she’s also a bit of an airhead who’s slow on the uptake, so it takes her a while to notice these things. Hell, I’m pretty sure the only reason she noticed me feeling down about my ex was because I got mouthy with a rude customer. I don’t want to tell her that I’ve been ruminating on bad memories, so I decide to deflect.

“It’s nothing. Just don’t have anything to talk about.”

I feel like a regular person would know that I’m lying and keep pushing me to talk, but Mildred’s not the best at reading faces, so she’s satisfied enough.

“Well, that’s fine. I’m gonna call Blanche tomorrow so we can get everything set up.”

“Oh yeah that… I don’t have any food allergies or whatever.”

“Any preferences?”

“I don’t care. She can cook whatever. It’s not like I have to eat it if I don’t like it.”

Mildred’s annoyed with me again.

“Are you serious!?”

“…Okay I get it.”

I relent simply because I don’t want to deal with another lecture. I still don’t really understand Blanche’s motives to be honest. So, she sees me as a friend and is worried about my health, fine. But why is she going to such lengths like this? I mean really, she’s basically forcing herself to make extra food for someone she met half a year ago, had some conversations with, and then didn’t see again until just this week. This feels like way too much effort for something that won’t give her much benefit. Even just saying “she’s doing this out of the kindness of her heart” doesn’t really sit well with me. I live in an area that doesn’t get all that rowdy during the night, so walks home from work are usually pleasant enough. This peace and quiet allows my mind to wander with little to no interruption. After meandering enough in my past life, it seems my brain now just wants to think about the old world and what it was like, despite it ending years before I was so much as a sperm cell. It’s something I’ve always been fascinated with, ever since I was a child. Something I find particularly interesting about the old world is that looking at the media produced makes you think that the people of those days would’ve never allowed the world to become what it is today.

You see, the modern world is essentially split by various forms of authoritative leadership and collectivist societal structures, yet the vast majority of the movies, books, shows, and so on from the old world feature strong anti-authority and anti-collectivism messages in them. So many narratives were made about standing up for what was right, even if it wasn’t popular to do so and believing in the concept of “live and let live”.  Yet as the world fell into conflict and the factions formed, the vast majority of people responsible for those themes and stories became the first and most ardent LOVERS out there. Somehow the same people saying to not to bow down to authoritarianism and to not be afraid to upset the majority over what’s right became the ones who bowed down the hardest to authoritarians and the collective. They were the ones most happy to engage in the new society that the elites behind LOVE had cooked up and overjoyed about attacking anyone who didn’t want it. Sure, it wasn’t all of them, but it was the majority, which essentially means that most people don’t actually believe in the platitudes they spout. Still, the fact that the entire world isn’t controlled by LOVE must mean something, right?

It makes my DVD collection somewhat odd. I suppose it’s not as if artists being scumbags was anything new before the end of the old world. But it does make me think that by me watching films made by people who helped with the formation of LOVE and the general end of “modern society” (at least, what was modern society at the time), I’m essentially causing a lot of people who’ve been dead long before I was born to roll in their graves. If there is an afterlife of some sort, then these people have had to and still have to spend time dealing with the loathsome fact that people like me still enjoy the work that they made and will continue to do so until the end of time.

Back home, I turn on my computer and I guess because I’m feeling kind of masochistic, I decide to head on to fuhenfutou. There’s nothing interesting going on, and because it’s night, that means most of the current posts are coming from smug Europeans (redundant, I know) jacking each other off. I decide to look through my account and the ridiculously low post and comment score it has. Due to these low scores, I can only comment twice a day and can’t make any new threads. As for why that is…

…It’s really, really, fucking stupid.

The Long Journey is a film that despite its massive popularity, to the point where you can still randomly stumble upon merchandise of it that was made decades ago, I had never actually seen it until rather recently. It’s not even like I was super hyped to see it, I just saw a copy of the movie at the store, and after some conversation with Mildred, I decided to take it home for myself to see. And my god, it was an amazing movie fully deserving of the massive popularity it had in the past. A beautiful story of a loving family trying to make the best of a destroyed world. My face was covered in tears by the credits.

So, I did what most lonely losers do after watching their new favorite masterpiece, go on the internet and post about it in the hopes of validation. I found a movie related forum on fuhenfutou and made a post about the film and how it emotionally affected me and then went to bed. The next morning when I went to check on the thread, I was shocked by the insanely low score it had received and the derisive and mocking comments that filled the thread. I’ll be honest, I don’t really pay attention to what’s currently “hip” on the internet and what the latest “popular opinions” are. I guess there’s this popular internet reviewer that I’d never heard of before, and he gave a viciously negative review to The Long Journey only two days before I made my post.

Because people on the internet tend to see their favored online reviewers like gods, this means that the vast majority of the userbase on fuhenfutou came to the conclusion that they also agreed with the guy on his review of The Long Journey, regardless of if they’ve actually seen it. Not only was my post getting downvoted and derided to the extreme, so was my posting/commenting history in general. I suppose I could’ve used my new “only two comments per day” limitation to reply to some comments but given that people going against the general opinion were getting just as harsh treatment, I decided it wasn’t worth it. I knew that the userbase of fuhenfutou could be pretty obnoxious and shitty, yet somehow this behavior was still somewhat of a shock for me. Regardless, that’s the incredibly idiotic story of why I have extremely low post and comment scores on fuhenfutou. I really should just delete my account, but I can’t access the 18+ forums if I do that.

Still, all of this makes me think: are online social media point systems like this really all that different from the LOVE POINTS system? I mean sure, I’m not getting any possessions taken away from me and I don’t have to worry about being “sent away” for having “bad opinions” online. But there’s still something unnerving about how one’s activity on a website can get easily screwed over simply for saying things that the majority don’t like.  And sure, logically speaking, I could just make a new account to bypass the system, which isn’t something people can do living in LOVE. But I dunno, aren’t I letting the internet mob win if I’m still using the site under a “clean slate”?

Even though it’s not even midnight, I decide to get myself ready for bed. I’m having one of those days (well nights in this case) where my mind is filled with nothing but negative thoughts that make me upset and no matter what they do, I just can’t seem to make them go away. My mood tends to fluctuate between “almost okay” and “miserable”. I honestly have a hard time remembering the last time I was truly “happy”. Therapy is usually the recommended course of action for someone like me, but that’s a luxury I can’t afford.  There aren’t a whole lot of therapists in the territories due to most therapists in the old world having become LOVERS and agents of LOVE’s government propaganda after the world split. Which really only leaves me the option of relying on either emotional prostitutes or so-called online “therapy sites”. The problem with emotional prostitutes is that they’re just people with opinions who don’t know shit about psychology (who won’t even fuck you despite having “prostitute” in their job title), and the problem with “therapy sites” is that they’re scams whose workers purposefully make you more miserable so you never stop giving them money. It’s really not all that different from the scams employed by dating websites.

So, I just have to put up with this middle ground of feeling unhappy, but never so unhappy that I attempt suicide. Apparently in the old world, people like me would be given “antidepressants” to help make them feel better, but those aren’t available in drug stores anymore due to the fact that they never actually did anything. When your drugs can’t even get a person high, they have no use in the territories. Although, I have heard that LOVE’s medical professionals still give out “antidepressants” and you can lose LOVE POINTS for claiming they don’t work.

Two more days passed by without anything interesting happening. But this morning, I hear the doorbell buzzing loudly again. Looking at my phone I see it’s 8 again. That can only mean one thing. Well, person. And when I go to answer the door, it is indeed the person who I thought it was going to be, dressed in her nurse uniform and holding a plastic container with food in it. It looks like a fish meal of some sort. She hands the container over to me while talking.

“Good morning, Gray. I’m glad to know that you’ve changed your mind on this. Anyways, today I made you a cod fillet with rice, onions, beans, and a small spinach salad with black olives. You don’t need to worry about returning the container to me, I have many of those at home and can just go out and buy more if I need to.”

I take the food from her and use this time to ask what’s on my mind.

“…Why are you doing this? Ignoring the fact that any sane person would give up after the argument we had when you first came around, what do you personally gain from doing this for me? Because it seems to me, you’re just inconveniencing yourself for someone you barely know.”

She isn’t taken aback by my question in the least. If anything, it seems as if she expected me to ask something like that.

“Well, this isn’t really inconveniencing me at all. I told you last time that your apartment is right on the way to the clinic. Plus, I enjoy cooking as a hobby, and this is giving me a chance to improve and learn new dishes. I’ve never really had anyone outside of my family taste my cooking before. But even if it did inconvenience me, I would still do it because we’re friends. We may not be close friends, but we are friends nonetheless…As such, I can’t just stand by and allow a friend to wither away. And sure, you were rude that day but… everybody has their bad days, right? You’ve never snapped at me like that before. Although I do believe I am owed an apology.”

She seems to be completely serious about helping me. I have no idea what about me has left this much of an impact on her. I respond by awkwardly apologizing.

“Yeah, uh, I’m sorry about getting pissy with you.”

I felt kind of annoyed for a second, like she wasn’t going to apologize for anything herself, but she proved me wrong.

“And I’m sorry for being so forceful. I should’ve found a better way to get in contact with you. It’s just that our work schedules are so different and sure, Mildred did give me your phone number, but I still wasn’t sure when it would be a good time to call you, and I don’t like texting. It confuses me. Mildred also gave me your email address, but I don’t own a computer, so it’s of no use to me…Well, I best be on my way.”

She starts to turn away, but I suddenly called out to her.

“Wait, before you leave… D-Did you get the movie you bought?”

I haven’t seen the DVD case on the front desk during any of my previous shifts the past several days. But that’s not necessarily a sign that she got it. Someone could’ve easily just put it back on one of the shelves.

“Oh, are you talking about The Long Journey? Yes, of course I got it.”

“Ah well, that’s good… Did you like it?”

I really shouldn’t be asking this, but I guess because it’s a movie that I hold dear to my heart I just have to know.

“…Oh well, yes, I did. Quite a lot. Surprisingly so, given that I normally dislike movies that delve in darker subject matter.”

“Are you referring to the scene with the cannibal twins? I get that’s a rough scene, but it’s important to have a scene where the brother and sister reconcile their differences and-“

Oh no, it’s happening. Thankfully, Blanche interrupts me before I can go on a never ending tangent.

“Gray, I’d love to keep talking, but I have to go to work, we can talk another time, okay? I’ll be coming here on my days off too… I’m glad to see you get excited about something.”

She walks off while I feel my cheeks burn and close the door. I talked too much, and I fear I’m going to do it again if this keeps up. I’m too mentally worked up to go back to bed so I guess I’ll have some of the food Blanche gave me. While the food’s heating up, I search around my DVD collection before finding my copy of The Long Journey. Ever since that incident on fuhenfutou, I’ve found myself too scared to watch it again, worried that all the negative criticisms on it were right and I’d hate it now. But I guess I’m feeling a little brave today. Thus, I spent the morning rewatching The Long Journey while eating a breakfast that’s far more nutrient dense than what I usual eat for breakfast. It turns out, the fuckheads at fuhenfutou were wrong, and The Long Journey managed to provoke the same feelings from me that it did all the way back when I first watched it. It sounds dumb, but confirming this has actually boosted my confidence somewhat.

…Oh, and Blanche isn’t a half bad cook I guess. I’m still not excited about being forced awake early for…how long is she gonna do this? I guess I can tolerate it a bit. Just a bit though.

Author’s Note: And thus ends the first arc on a pretty short chapter. I should note that when I started writing LOVE, I was…still am I guess part of a group project that is either on hiatus or dead. I got this arc written, a second arc written…and that’s about it. But I am starting to feel a desire to get back into it. Also, I know I said I wanted to make character profiles after this arc, but I think that’s going to have to be in the backburner for a bit. Mostly because I’d be using a mixture of AI generation and Kisekae to make the character images, and I’m currently focusing on an AI bot project right now, but I will get to it eventually.

The next few days went by with no further incident. It almost seemed like that day shift I worked at was just going to be another series of memories that would stick around in my brain for me to occasionally think back to them. However, that was not the case. If anything, it would seem that I triggered something akin to the butterfly effect wherein working that day shift caused a grand change in the world. At least for me.

*BZZT*

I’ve been jolted out of my sleep by the loud sound of my doorbell. Looking at my phone, I see that it’s 8 in the morning. I have no idea who the hell would be trying to see me this early. Maybe the landlord? Could it be that he’s here to finally fix the heater? I groggily force myself out of bed and head to the front door. My grogginess is wiped away as soon as I open the door.

“Hello Gray.”

…It’s not the landlord. It’s Blanche in her nurse uniform. How the hell did she get my home address?

“I made sure to keep my promise to see you again. It’s nice that your apartment’s close to the clinic.”

I stare at her, unable to properly think of a response. Blanche keeps blathering away.

“I came back to the store, and talked to Mildred for a bit and she was kind enough to give me your address. Now I’ve come up with a plan to help with your poor eating habits. Since your home isn’t too far from mine, I figure I can make you a little something to help get you the proper nutrients during the day before heading to work.”

She pulls out a pen and paper from her purse.

“I’d appreciate it if you could inform me of your personal food preferences, any allergies you may have, if you’re taking any medication, and if you are, what that medication is.”

…She really is serious with this, isn’t she? I have some strong words for Mildred next time I see her. For now, I need to deal with the nuisance standing in front of me.

“…It’s too early for this shit. I’m going back to bed.”

I try to close the door on her, but Blanche desperately puts herself in the way.

“You’re not going to brush me off that easily.”

I’m trying to push her away, but I’m not a strong man, so I’m having no success.

“That’s…That’s nice and all, but I, nggh, I don’t need nor want your attention.”

The two of us struggle for about a minute. But alas, Blanche’s sheer tenacity wins against my lack of physical strength, and she’s able to push herself into my apartment. I believe this sort of thing was referred to as “trespassing” back in the old world and was considered a crime. Blanche sighs with an irritated tone as if she’s the one being inconvenienced.

“…I swear, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone this resistant towards the idea of getting free food. And you’re seriously trying to claim you don’t have an eating disorder!?”

“Anyone would be resistant to being woken up by someone barging in on their home!”

“I only barged in because you tried to slam the door on me!”

“I slammed the door on you because you won’t stop trying to barge in on my life!”

I don’t understand why she can’t seem to get this. I don’t care if her reasoning is “noble”, the fact that she’s trying to force herself in my life makes me want to punch a wall.

“You’re acting like we’re strangers!”

She keeps pressing me. I’m reaching my limit with her. I sigh loudly.

“…Okay, look, if you wanna be my replacement mother, then could you try and find replacements for the rest of my family?”

She gives me a confused look. Okay, this is good. Now I can dominate in this conversation. I keep talking.

“Yeah, my family was pretty shitty. I’m not gonna demand a replacement for every cousin and uncle twice removed, but if you’re gonna be my new mom, get me a new dad, brother, and sister too and I’ll accept it.”

Her face becomes more expressionless. As if she has no idea how to respond to what I’m saying.

“…Oh, and get me a new boyfriend too. My ex left me in a rather cruel way.”

The tale of my ex was a simple tale of high school sweethearts that ended poorly. We were together for about five years, and then one day I walked in on him in bed with someone else. To his credit, he didn’t try to pull that “It’s not what it looks like” bullshit you see in movies. He told it like it was, and by the end of the week he moved out of the apartment, and it’s been that way for about three years now. However, there’s a more pertinent reason I brought up the term “boyfriend”.

“…B-Boyfriend!?”

Blanche is now flustered. Yes, being born and raised in HOME means that Blanche isn’t used to people who have “abnormal” preferences like me. Along with her also being a prude, I can use this to my advantage to disgust her so much that she leaves my apartment. It’s admittedly a low-brow plan, but I’ve never prided myself on being a classy guy so it’s fine.

“…Yes Blanche, a boyfriend. I’m gay. A homosexual, a faggot, a queer. Feel free to use whichever term you like. I want a handsome, loving man with a decently sized dick that’s neither too big nor too small.  Being in a relationship with my right hand and random AI chatbots isn’t too bad, but there’s a part of me that misses the human touch. Sure I could go to a prostitute, but it’s just not the same thi-“

“What on Earth is wrong with you!? I don’t need to know any of this! I’m leaving!”

And with that she angrily stomps out of my apartment and slams the door shut. Well, that was easy. Almost too easy. Good thing too. Because if that wasn’t the case, I probably would’ve ended up either revealing information that’s far too private and personal, or I’d have to start making up wild sexual tales that never actually happened to me. Truth be told, outside of the whole “gay” thing, I’m actually pretty vanilla, sexuality speaking. Furthermore, I’ve never been with anyone else besides my ex. I go to lock the front door. Dammit, there’s no way in hell I can go back to bed after all that. I decide to go make myself a cup of coffee. While waiting for the coffee maker, I go and throw on a random DVD. It’s some action movie about tough guys shooting and punching each other. According to one of the bonus features, no blanks were used in the making of the film and the filmmakers even proudly boast that while some injuries were acquired on set, no one died. Well, that’s good.

I spend the rest of the day watching more random DVDs from my collection, until it’s time for me to get ready for work. As I arrive at the store I notice a white motorbike locked down near the front. So, Mildred’s back from her expedition. Which means I’m probably going to spend most of, if not all of my shift helping her get the new stuff sorted out. There’s also probably more stuff that’ll get sent to the store over the next few days as well. I can only hope it’s not anything too heavy, or I’m going to spend the next day or two with sore arms.

I head inside the store and switch places with the girl at the front counter. A few minutes later, someone enters from the backroom. An elderly woman with greying red hair, bright blue eyes hidden under glasses, and breasts the size of volley balls. It’s Mildred. Despite her age, she has a lively personality and doesn’t seem to suffer from too many old people health problems. We also have an oddly close relationship for a boss and employee. Shortly after my breakup with my ex, she invited me for a drink after closing time. The alcohol caused me to have a rather embarrassing crying fit, and from that moment on, she always felt the need to check in on my mental status. This has led to us having rather personal conversations during the slower hours of my shifts.

She’s a strange person to say the least. One particularly strange aspect of hers is that beneath the outer shell of a lively older lady, lies a bitter and cynical misanthrope. She was there when the old world ended, and the split occurred. She spent a good amount of her 20s living under the cruel regime of LOVE, and it’s clear that it’s left severe mental scars that haven’t healed with age. She’s told me before that I’m a rare person that she “gets a good feeling from”. I don’t know why that is. I’m really nothing special. Part of me wonders if she just has a thing for pale twinks. Regardless, you could say she’s the only real friend I have as of late.

“Good evening, Gray, nice of you to show up on time.”

She comes to greet me.

“I’m always on time.”

“True, but that could change…Oh, could you come to the backroom with me?”

Normally being invited to the backroom, especially on days after Mildred’s expeditions, wouldn’t really be something I take note of. However, she’s making what I can only refer to as “the look”. It’s this passive aggressive smile she makes when she’s mad at me about something, but also feels the need to keep her composure. I can’t say I’m looking forward to whatever she wants to lecture me about. I have a bad feeling that it’s about Blanche. Blanche did tell me this morning that she got my address from Mildred after all.  She’s also told me that she’s apparently one of Mildred’s favorite customers. As much as I’m dreading it, I follow Mildred into the backroom. Inside lay several boxes, both opened and unopened. After gently shutting the door, “the look” on Mildred’s face turns to one of a parent annoyed at their kid.

“…You know Gray, Blanche came to the store around noon to talk to me.”

God dammit it is about Blanche. No, you know what, fuck it. I’m not going to take whatever angry lecture she has for me lying down. Mildred needs to address some things too.

“Yeah, I take it she told you that I had no interest in her barging in on my personal life? Because I don’t. Seriously, what the hell were you thinking when you just decided to give her my address out of nowhere?”

She sighs and looks at me frustrated.

“You’re making it sound like I just gave your address to a creepy stalker or something like that. I gave it to a friend of yours because she’s worried about you.”

“Me and Blanche talked for a few months while Marisa was dying, that’s hardly friendship. Besides, why are you pushing her so hard on me anyways? Don’t tell me that Blanche is one of those rare people that you just ‘have a good feeling’ about?”

I think the only other people Mildred’s told me she’s gotten a “good feeling” about are Bernie and Liam…Well, I also know she’s married with kids and grandkids. So, I’d like to think she has a “good feeling” about her husband and kids at the very least.

“Yes, she is. Blanche has been making regular visits to the store lately, so I’ve had a few opportunities to talk with her. I can tell that she has a good heart, and is also a victim of this cruel existence that we call ‘life’.”

I have no idea what her standards for “getting a good feeling” from people is. I can’t really say it’s random, because it’s not like I’ve ever heard her say that for thugs and hooligan scumbags. So perhaps there is something to it beyond whether or not she just likes how someone looks. But I still haven’t got a clue. Mildred keeps lecturing me.

“Gray, do you really think that Blanche is the kind of person who would just hassle random people on her health?”

Yes.

“Because if so, then you’re wrong. During those few months when you talked with her, you left an impression on her. She wants to be friends with you. She’s not pestering you because she’s an overly obsessed nurse. She’s doing it because she cares about you and your wellbeing. And so do I. So please Gray, accept her offer.”

…I’m frustrated. There are few things I hate more than giving in and letting an opposing side “win”. However, I realistically don’t have anything in my arsenal to fight back with. I have no choice but to give in.

“…Ugh, fine. I’ll do it.”

I cross my arms and express my agreement in the most negative way I can muster. Mildred doesn’t care about how much I hate this though. She’s back to all smiles.

“Good boy. I know I can always rely on you. Now let’s get to unloading my new findings.”

And so, began a shift consisting mostly of me helping Mildred sort out her new findings in between attending the occasional customer. From what she’s told me, Mildred’s expeditions involve her riding her motorbike to random small stores, dumps, and other such places to find things relevant to what she wants to sell. She’ll then box the new items, send them to a storage place she has (she’s never told me where it’s located), make more trips to get more items, and then when she feels she has enough new stuff to add to the store, she makes multiple trips to the storage place to take the boxes back to the store. Apparently, she’s been doing this for more than thirty years now. Longer than I’ve been alive.

I wonder what I’ll be like when I’m Mildred’s age. Hell, I wonder if I’ll even live to be Mildred’s age. I’m only 24 and I already feel exhausted by life. There’s no way in hell little kid me could’ve ever foreseen the pathetic adult I’ve become. When I was a child, I was shy and nervous around people, and thus was an obedient “good kid” because the idea of other people being mad at me was distressing. Didn’t really work though, at least not with my brother and sister. They hated my mere existence and made sure to let me know at any opportunity they could. I presume this is because I was the “favorite” of my parents. As for why I was the “favorite”? Perhaps it was because I was the youngest, maybe it’s because I was the most subservient, or perhaps it was because I’m gay and my parents liked having a “gay son” to show off to their fellow Outside LOVER friends. The reason doesn’t matter though, it’s not like I wanted to be the “favorite” and take attention away from my siblings.

But my siblings would never believe me if I told them that, and I frequently became victim to their torment as a child.  Something that I find interesting about my siblings is how they seemed to embody the worst traits associated with their sex. My brother was a loud, obnoxious, lump of mass who had more muscles than brain cells, and as such would frequently threaten me with violence. Most commonly, he would shove me to the ground and punch the ground right next to me while yelling at me. He never actually hurt me though, I think because even he was smart enough to know that he’d be in serious trouble if my parents learned of him leaving any marks on me. Not that his threats weren’t more than enough to leave me in tears. I was quite the crybaby as a kid.

My sister was a confusing person to say the least. She was cunning, manipulative, and extremely passive aggressive. She would frequently switch between a fake “nice” persona and her real “mean” side around me. When people were around, she was the kindest and most loving sister anyone could ask for. But as soon as we were alone together, that’s when the real her came out and so did the insults and criticisms of me. The words that she used to describe me the most were “disgusting”, “annoying”, “stupid”, and “freak”. It seemed to be that no matter what I did, whether it be hanging out in the living room, greeting her, or even so much as just eating a snack, she would find something about what I was doing to be distasteful. It was as if she couldn’t even see me as a human being.

One would think that at least because I was the “favorite” of my parents, that I would at least have gotten along well with them. But that’s really not the case. I grew up in a family of Outside LOVERS and the thing about the LOVER ideology is that LOVERS and Outside LOVERS don’t view people as people, even if those people are their own flesh and blood. To the LOVER ideology, people are nothing more than either tools for your political ideology or opponents to such. I wasn’t really aware of this as a child, but as I grew older, I couldn’t help but notice how…”fake” my parents’ so called “affection” felt. Especially when disagreements came about.

I distinctly remember one day when I told my parents I wasn’t interested in joining in on an Outside LOVER social event, and for the next month, the “love” they had always showered me with came to a stop. My mother kept guilting me to go, and my father threw mocking remarks and insults at me. It was at that moment when I realized that my parents never actually loved me. They loved the image of me they had in their heads. It was with this realization, mixed with the hormones brought on by puberty, that I started to harbor both a massive resentment towards my entire family and a deep desire to escape it all. This led to me hanging out with drug users as a teenager. Drugs provided the perfect escape from my life and negative feelings. Now the drug users were separated into three groups. You had the upper kids, the downer kids, and the hallucination kids. The hallucination kids were where I felt at home. Substances such as LSD, ecstasy, ketamine, and DMT became my best friends. The hallucination kids were also how I met my ex. It was during these times of tripping out with others that I could truly feel okay with life. I found myself getting into arguments with my family at this time too. I hated how spineless I was, and I wanted to stand up for myself against them. Not like it ever worked though. Talking back would only lead to worse treatment from my siblings. I even managed to piss my brother off so much at one point that he no longer cared about avoiding actually physically hurting me and he punched me in the stomach. My parents didn’t even punish him that much, showing just how fake that “love” for me from them really was.

You know, if there’s one thing from the old world that I’m glad isn’t really a thing in modern times is higher education. If college were still a thing, then there’s a good chance that even after reaching adulthood, I would still be stuck with my family. But since I didn’t need to worry about that, I could focus on an escape plan. Even though “laws” aren’t a thing in the territories, business still have their own rules to follow. For instance, most landlords and homeowners only give offers to people age 18 and up. So, me and my ex spent the last year of high school doing odd jobs for people in order to earn enough money that we could live on our own after graduation. It was a plan that went smoothly; however, I probably should’ve seen that as a warning sign. Once the two of us got a lease at the apartment, I basically told my family to go fuck themselves and haven’t been on speaking terms with them since. You’d think that after that moment, my life would’ve been nothing but perfection after that. At least if it was a fictional story, it would’ve. But of course, that’s not the way things went. I mean, I guess things were okay for the next year or so, but then the whole thing with my ex cheating on me and us breaking up (I guess I should be grateful he left and I didn’t get kicked out), and then I met Marisa only to have to deal with her baggage.

I don’t really know what I’m doing with my life or why I continue to keep living. All I’m doing at this point is just engaging in the monotony of going to work, and then spending time at home watching DVDs, browsing the internet, and occasionally playing video games that my low spec computer can run. I guess I could go back to doing drugs, but honestly doing drugs only made me okay in the current moment I was using them. I’d rather just be able to feel okay all of the time. I was so lost in my thoughts of the past, that my shift was over in what felt like an instant. They say time passes by when you’re having fun, but thoughts of the past are never fun for me.

Author’s Note: Going back to these old chapters of mine, it’s interesting to see what I like/dislike about them and what I feel the need to change. I do find it interesting that so far, my writing is mostly exposition and dialogue. Indeed, if you don’t like slice of life and long tangents, then you probably won’t like the rest of what I have planned.

Nothing interesting happened while I was at Marisa’s grave, but then again, I picked this specific area precisely because nobody comes around here. I hang around there for about an hour or two before I figure that it’s best for me to head home. My apartment’s not too far from here, only a ten-minute walk. I don’t have the money for a fancy gated high-rise apartment, but the place I live in is good enough. The walls are thick enough that I can’t hear what other tenants are doing in their rooms, and the rent’s pretty reasonable. The only issue I have is that my landlord has a habit of being unreliable.

He’s a member of the PearlCoin Organization, so he’s usually busy dealing with those sorts of people. As a result, it takes him forever to get to things that need maintenance. The worst part is that there’s a box on the front desk where us tenants slip in pieces of paper that’s supposed to help notify him of problems in the apartment faster, but it hasn’t worked. For example, my heater has been broken for three months now and he’s yet to fix it. I guess it’s not that important anymore since the weather’s getting warmer, but I’m still pissed about having to spend all of winter freezing my ass off.

My room is on the third floor of the apartment. Since I don’t trust elevators, I use the stairs. The nice thing about using the stairs is that merely walking to and from work gets me good exercise. At least I think it does. My mind’s focusing on other things as I reach up the stairs, and because of that I accidentally bump into someone.

“Ah, shit…Sorry. Are you okay ma’am?”

The small albino woman I’ve bumped into is my current next door neighbor who moved in shortly after Marisa’s death. I don’t know anything about her beyond the fact she seems to work at night and sleeps during the day. Really not all that different from my life. She looks up at me irritated and sighs.

“…I’m not going to get mad at you because we’ve never actually talked before, but despite my looks, I am a man.”

With that she…He walks off. I seriously spent the last seven months thinking that guy was a woman. Turns out traps are lot more boring in real life. With that thought in my head, I unlock the door to my apartment and head inside. My apartment isn’t the biggest out there, but it’s not cramped at the very least. As long as you don’t mind the random crap strewn about all over the place. I’m saving up money so I can move into an actual house, but that’s not going to happen for a while. I recall Marisa once suggesting that I sell my DVD collection. I of course rejected such blasphemy, and this resulted in an argument between us.

The first thing I do after I come home is start rummaging through the fridge for dinner. Something I usually do before heading out to work, but the whole ‘having to work a different shift’ thing has messed up my usual schedule a bit. I pick out some microwave chicken dish and boot up my computer while it heats up. Computers in the territories tend to be a bit slower compared to the ones from LOVE, but at least you get a fully uncensored internet. I know all of the websites on servers in LOVE use .com and .org addresses and they block anyone not from LOVE so it’s extremely difficult to access even with a VPN.

When I open my browser, I look through the recent emails I’ve got. Most of these are spam, but one of them seems to be from… Bernie? The guy who got sick? I’ve never even so much as greeted him before. I know Mildred has a clipboard in the backroom at the store where employees can write down contact information they’re comfortable with sharing…I only just now remember that. I also just now remember that I put my email on said clipboard because this is the first time anyone from work that’s not Mildred has bothered to message me.

Hi, it’s me Bernie. From Mildred’s. I hope I don’t creep you out too much by sending you this message. I just wanted to apologize for needing you to work my shift. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but it turns out I didn’t actually get food poisoning. Something went wrong with the pharmacist at the drug store, some medications got mixed up, and my usual allergy medication was mixed up with laxatives. I did need the day off, but I apologize if I made my situation sound more serious. My stomach’s feeling better now, and I can work my shift tomorrow. I know I should tell Mildred too, but I can’t seem to get a hold of her.

Reading this email left me with a few concerns. First of all, I hope that pharmacist was fired. That’s the only drug store we have for miles, and while I don’t really need to visit there often, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard of an incident like this happening. I suppose things like this are why medical licenses were a requirement for medicine back in the old world. All that happens now is that if you spend enough years as an apprentice for a senior medical worker, then you can get a job in said field.  The quality of the medical workers to come from this practice usually comes from the quality of the senior medical worker.

So, if the senior medical worker is bad and fucks up frequently, then their apprentice will also most likely end up the same way. Some territories have excellent health care, while others are so bad, you’d be better off just trying to treat yourself. I think the healthcare around here is decent enough. At least the people at the clinic are good, but the pharmacists tend to be of mixed quality. As such, incidents of mixed-up medication aren’t uncommon around here, and have even led to death a few times. Still, it’s not all bad. There was one positive incident where a man’s sildenafil prescription got swapped up with some hypertension meds. But of course, one positive exception doesn’t change the fact that you need to be really careful when visiting the drug store.

Secondly, would it really kill Mildred to send out notices to everyone whenever she’s out on one of her expeditions for more old media? She can be pretty irresponsible for a store owner at times. The most she does whenever she’s on one of her trips is tell maybe one or two employees about it, and then leave a small note on the counter that always gets thrown away by the next person on shift.  All she needs to do is send out a group email when she needs to (you know, just like the old world businesses that she’s desperate to emulate). I even suggested this to her once, but she refused for the reason that not everyone has computers… So, I guess she just prefers the majority of workers to be out of the loop, compared to a few people not knowing what’s going on. I write a small email to Bernie wherein all my thoughts are expressed in three short sentences.

Hey, I’m not creeped out, it’s fine. You should talk to the pharmacists if they’re screwing with your meds like that. Don’t mind Mildred, she’s out on an expedition getting new stuff for the store.

Hopefully the message is sufficient enough. After checking my email, I browse through fuhenfutou.xyz. A terrible “generalized forum” filled with awful people that I only really bother with because it occasionally has some neat things related to stuff I like posted. But even then, I’ve been finding myself contemplating if it’s even really worth it to continue having an account on the site. Especially with the negative posting score I have that makes it impossible for me to comment more than once a day due to reasons I’d rather not think about right after work.

I guess I find the political threads kind of funny, in the same way monkeys throwing their crap is kind of funny. It consists of nothing more than Outside LOVERS and HOME Lodgers (they used to call themselves Outside HOMERS, but the memes involving either an Ancient Greek poet and a popular cartoon character killed that off) getting into arguments with each other, with plenty of pseudointellectual paragraphs thrown at one another. I don’t feel like melting my brain with poorly thought-out politics today. I just browse a few decent boards related to my interests until the microwave indicates to me that my dinner is ready.

After getting my dinner, I move on to pursuitspecial.xyz, a blog by some anonymous people meant to collect news of what’s going on in LOVE, HOME, and the territories. It’s an impressively accurate blog, and the only real way to know what the hell is going on in the world without any bias in the reporting. They also have a small forum, pursuitspecialdriversseat.xyz where readers of the blog can mingle. Maybe it’s because of the more serious nature of the site, but the people here are a million times better than the asshats at Fuhenfutou. The fact that there’s no voting system on posts helps too. There doesn’t seem to be anything big today.

I can see there are some reports of political dissidents in LOVE having their LOVE POINTS reach zero and being sent to mental health centers. But that’s as newsworthy as saying the grass is green. However, even on slow news days the forum is always bustling with conversation. The most common threads are people who grew up in LOVE or HOME retelling their experiences. The mods also put in effort to make sure no one’s lying and making up bullshit stories for attention gets you permabanned. I’ve read enough of these testimonies and anecdotes that I have a pretty good understanding of how the world came to be what it is today and what it’s like to grow up in LOVE and HOME.

 I’m not a history expert, but my understanding of the history of the modern world is this; sometime in the first half of the 21st century the world split into three different factions after a series of political strife and conflict. The specific details are complicated, and I don’t have the best understanding of the issues. But it would seem to be that people were finding it more difficult to find any sort of agreement with each other. As time went on, conflict slowly but surely escalated until the year 2030, when the “old world” officially ended, and the split occurred after much bloodshed.

In LOVE, the first faction, the people are born and raised in a “residential tower” that they’re not allowed to leave due to the government’s claim that there are deadly spores outside that will damage their organs. Granted, organ damage and death from such is common in LOVE, but it’s due to the monthly “medicine treatments” that citizens are required to get. Those deaths are blamed on the spores. The people spend all their lives in these towers. Living in their own “suite”, they’ll spend their lives being sent to various “education rooms” to get the LOVER education of propaganda. Once they come of age, they’re assigned a career by the government and then spend the rest of their lives on that career. They may also be shipped to another residential tower depending on said career.

Thanks to the incredibly advanced technology, the average citizen of LOVE has all of their needs met by the government as long as they keep their LOVE POINTS high. LOVE POINTS being a currency of sorts. Every person in LOVE is born with 2000 points that then rise or decrease based off their actions. LOVE POINTS are earned by doing as one is told. By repeating the propaganda about spores, by doing well in your studies and work, by punishing those who disobey…you get the idea.  LOVE POINTS are decreased when one spreads “HATE”. “HATE” being whatever the government dislikes.

So, disagreeing with/criticizing government propaganda, not following along with the career you’re assigned, rejecting “medicine treatments”, trying to leave the residential tower, having more than one child, things like that. Losing LOVE POINTS causes one to lose access to personal belongings, food, healthcare, and other such things. Violent persecution against the people spreading “HATE” is also highly encouraged. When someone’s LOVE POINTS reaches 0, they are sent to a “mental health center”. These “mental health centers” are prisons where prisoners live in the worst conditions imaginable and are then subjected to horrific experiments by the scientists of LOVE.

In order to avoid that, most people in LOVE do as they’re told. Especially since there are surveillance cameras all over the residential towers, even in private suites. With all this in mind, it would seem that if one was miserable living in LOVE, they would have no real chance of escape. However, escapes have and still do happen. There are groups in the territories dedicated to helping people from LOVE escape. You see, for as strictly regulated as LOVE’s internet is, and for all the surveillance cameras out there, the more rebellious people of LOVE have found a way to be able to hack their computers and access websites they shouldn’t be able to have access to without being discovered.

Through this, dissidents who want to defect from LOVE are able to contact these groups and figure out an escape plan. These escape plans usually involve hacking into the surveillance systems and getting the defectors to leave via the sewers. However, there can be variations in how escapes work. Although the government of LOVE does have severe consequences for failed escape attempts, those are thankfully rare.

Life for the people in the second faction HOME is comparatively less technologically advanced than LOVE, due to the fact that HOME banned any and all technology made after the 19th century. Originally, HOME started off as just a society of dissidents from LOVE and it honestly wasn’t too different from the territories outside of having a government and laws. They also had an incredibly tense relationship with LOVE, with threats of war and conflicts between the two were frequent. However, a “cultural revolution” of sorts happened at HOME. The people of HOME were finding themselves growing increasingly paranoid about being taken over by LOVE and sought to snuff out anything that could potentially lead to their society becoming absorbed by LOVE.

The conclusion they came to was that modern technology, the sexual revolution, and secularism were to blame. So came the bans of modern technology and “deviant” behaviors along with a shift to theological rule. This came with several challenges. For one, HOME, like the other factions, consists of a third of the world. Which meant that figuring out what religion the theological rule should be based off of was impossible. This inevitably led to a split up between all the states on religious ground. Although HOME still technically refers to itself as a nation, the states themselves tend to vary greatly based off religious belief, and it’s not uncommon for some states to have conflict with other states. This weakening of HOME, along with the destruction of modern weaponry, made LOVE lose any interest in continuing to fight with HOME. Rather, LOVE prefers to use HOME as another way to push propaganda about why their culture is better.

People from HOME aren’t forcefully locked into their homes, they have the freedom to enjoy the nature around them. However, they’re forced to follow the religious beliefs of which state they’re born in, aren’t allowed to express themselves in ways that society considers “deviant” and are forbidden from so much as showing interest in foreign technology. Sure, there is no LOVE POINTS system, no being sent to a “mental health center” with awful experiments being performed on you, but if one doesn’t fit in, they will be the victim of severe social ostracization and persecution. Furthermore, incidents of witch hunts aren’t uncommon in HOME and have led to innocent people being wrongly executed or violently tortured.

Since there are no surveillance cameras and HOME has a cultural attitude of “don’t like it, then leave”, it’s not like a dissident of HOME has to worry about potentially being caught during escape. The issue is figuring out where to escape to. In contrast to LOVE mostly being urban cities, HOME is mostly rural parts of the world that are miles away from the closest neighboring settlement. So, this means that someone looking to leave HOME at best is still going to have to struggle with the elements for several days before reaching their destination.

Which leads to the third and final faction, the territories. There is no real official name, it’s just the territories. I don’t really need to know more about the place I’ve known my whole life obviously. Well, some territories are better than others. I would say I live in one of the better territories, but then again, I’ve never lived anywhere else. Even though there’s no real government or political system ruling the territories, there are still political views. These political views tend to be how much people support or don’t support their local cryptocurrency group, and whether they’re more sympathetic to LOVE (an Outside LOVER) or more sympathetic to HOME (a HOME Lodger). But nobody really has the power to change anything, so they just argue and debate online.

These arguments became so numerous that the mods of PSDS decided to move them to a general thread. Although the debates here are less obnoxious than the petty arguments on fuhenfutou, they’re still painfully repetitive and don’t bring anything new to the table. Outside LOVERS tend to believe that the more horrific stories of LOVE are overexaggerated and that LOVE should be praised for its advancements in technology and acceptance of LGBT groups. Despite their claims of LOVE not really being that bad, for some reason, they never feel compelled to move there. HOME Lodgers go on long tangents on how we could end all strife and problems in the territories if we just stopped tolerating sexual degeneracy and women knew their place again. Conveniently, they ignore the “no modern technology is allowed” part of HOME’s culture.

…It’s all tiresome. I grew up in a family of Outside LOVERS, and I’m not on good terms with them. So, you could say that I hold more resentment towards Outside LOVERS. But I can’t say that I’m really all that fond of HOME Lodgers either and I’d most likely be fucked if either side got what they wanted. It’s easy to just write these people off as just loonies arguing on the internet. But you know, Mildred was there when the split of 2030 happened, and according to her and other people around her age the political strife that led to the split was also seen as just “weirdo fringe groups” as well. Knowing that just makes me feel anxious about the future, so I try not to think about it too much.

I decide to turn my computer off and get ready for bed. Having to wake up earlier than usual has me feeling tired despite it only being 11. I have the day off tomorrow, so that’s nice. I probably won’t do anything special with my day off, I never really do. But you know, it’s always nice to not have anything to do. Even if I wanted to do something, I don’t have any friends I can hang out with. I guess I had a decent social group as a kid but looking back those were just “people I hung out with” rather than “real friends”. Maybe that’s why I feel so much responsibility for Marisa. She actually saw me as a “friend” even if I didn’t see her as one. After brushing my teeth and changing into sleepwear, I climb into my bed and fall asleep not too long after.

Author’s Notes: An entire chapter of nothing but lore dumping? Woooo! Yeah, sorry if this chapter’s a bit boring. I gotta say, uploading these old chapters I had written before is a somewhat interesting experience, mostly because I can notice problems with my writing and tweak it a bit (I’m well aware that I have a problem with run on sentences for instance).