N.H.K., N.H.K., N.H.K…. I kept mumbling these three letters to myself, over and over again.
N stands for Nippon. If that's so, then H must be…
I understood! It was all so simple! The mystery was finally solved. I had discovered the truth behind everything. H stood for Hikikomori! In other words, N.H.K. represented “Nippon Hikikomori Kyoukai”![11]
My battle began that day.
While I was tripping on hallucinogens, I failed to realize that the reason my apartment door wouldn't open was due to nothing more than the fact that I had locked it. That was just the tiniest of issues at hand, though.
No matter what, I have to fight it out. Until the day I have defeated the N.H.K., I must fight it out bravely. I absolutely will not lose.
Though sometimes, I do want to die…
Chapter 02. Jihad
Part One
Several months after the night I'd decided to fight the N.H.K., I looked out the apartment window at the neighborhood park across the street. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom—a cheerful, endlessly beautiful scene.
However, no victory was in view. I saw no sign that I would win this battle.
For starters, I didn't know where my enemy was hiding.
I thought maybe I should blow up the N.H.K. headquarters.
No, if I did something like that, I'd just be shot and killed by the police.
I rejected that plan.
Most important, I knew my enemy was the N.H.K. I had to believe this—or at least pretend that I believed it. That had to be it. I needed to refrain from making any careless moves.
If I continued like this, my situation would never improve.
Recently, I'd been increasingly depressed over the signs of spring, which mercilessly invaded even my gloomy six-mat, one-room apartment.
Another student had arrived to replace the one who had just vacated the apartment next door. Now, freshmen walked along the road to school, smiles spread across their faces. Opening the window let in a cool spring breeze, cherry blossom petals, or people's lively voices.
Argh, how could this happen? I alone had been left behind by the gaieties of spring. No, more than that: I was being actively mocked by the rest of the entire world, all of which was in high spirits due to spring's onset. At least, that was the message I got.
I hadn't had proper contact with another human being for almost a year.
I felt like I might forget how to speak Japanese if I kept going at this rate. I sensed that I was constantly getting farther and farther from my return to society. That would not be good; it would be very bad. If I didn't escape from my life as a hikikomori soon, I would be socially laid to rest by the world forever.
First, I needed to consider my independence. I knew I had to find work. Thus, I recently bought a job information magazine from the convenience store. After reading through it, however, everything seemed impossible.
Oh, it's impossible. Absolutely impossible. I'm a dropout from a third-rate college, with zero qualifications. That's me. If I were the personnel manager at some company, I'd definitely never hire a hikikomori like myself. In this day and age—when it's hard enough to get work—there's no way any company willingly would hire a useless person like me.
Eventually, though, at some point in time, every human being, no matter who, must work. That's the fact of the matter.
I couldn't just keep riding my parents' coattails forever.
And I couldn't keep tricking my parents with the worst kinds of lies like, “It's all right! Even if I did quit college with only a few qualifications, I'll have no trouble finding work! Right now, I'm studying for all kinds of certifications, including the IT-administrator certificate, the TOEFL, word processing, computing, and abacus proficiency, among other things. Please, send me just a little more allowance!”
Yeah, my time limit was approaching. It might even be just a few months away.
Before my parents stopped sending my allowance, I needed to reform my leechlike personality and escape this rotten hikikomori lifestyle.
I had to take down the N.H.K.
Could I do it? Could I do something that reckless?
The world outside my apartment was full of danger. Cars drove at fearsome speeds, cedar pollen floated on the wind, and random killers sometimes haunted the streets. Could I really launch myself into that dangerous world? Would I really be okay?
Quite honestly, I was very anxious about it.
Actually, it was impossible.
A loser like me could never lead a regular life within society. A normal social life would be impossible for someone who, just yesterday, woke at the decent hour of seven o'clock in the morning for the first time in a long while, only to lie in bed, lost in thought, until afternoon. Yes, a decent life in conventional society would be impossible for someone who, after that, decided to take a quick nap, closing his eyes only to sleep soundly through the day and night until five o'clock this morning.
A normal life within society would be impossible for someone like me, who tried so unsuccessfully to apply Freudian analysis to last night's dream. My dream featured indulging in an impure heterosexual relationship in a small room with the female upperclassman from high school, and my analysis suggested only that it indicated a subconscious desire to indulge an impure heterosexual relationship in a small room with the female upperclassman from high school. My final result concluded, “What part of this is a dream interpretation? You're just reiterating the same thing!”
Impossible for me, who went to eat breakfast and, upon opening the refrigerator, realized that there was not a single item of food inside. Impossible for me, who then decided to ignore my empty stomach and take a bath, only to discover that I was entirely out of both soap and shampoo.
And impossible for me, who responded to the horoscope read on the TV morning show—Virgo's luck in love is up today. An unexpected person may profess their love to you—with the pathetic comment, “How are they going to profess it to me if I don't leave my room all day? Huh? Let's see them try it.”
A normal life within society was totally impossible for me.
Argh.
Maybe I should just die!
Maybe 1 should just die. No. I won't die because I am a strong, capable soldier.
I was determined to live until the day I defeated the N.H.K., even if that meant I would have to crawl along the floor.
I would win or I would lose; I was still uncertain which. Anyway, what I required was a good amount of courage; thus, I needed to make efficient use of every ounce of courage in my body. For the time being, however, first I needed to make breakfast.
After slowly rising from my bed, I opened the cupboard and removed the cup of ramen I kept for emergencies. I poured hot water from the hot pot I stored on top of the refrigerator. And then I waited—listening to the faint notes of an anime song that echoed from room 202, the apartment next to mine, I waited patiently for three minutes.
Not that it was important or anything, but my next door neighbor, who had just moved in this spring, really seemed to like anime. While it didn't really matter, school should have started already. Was it okay that he hadn't left his apartment? I felt like warning him, “Morning is no time to be engrossed in the theme song to Ojamajo Doremi.[12] You're going to be late!” Of course, I didn't do any such thing. My next door neighbor's lifestyle wasn't my concern.
While these thoughts ran through my mind, three minutes passed in what felt like a matter of seconds.