Chapter 1 — Unheard, Unspoken
Everything is black and white. I don't have the energy to wake up. Can I survive this day? Why am I alive? Wait, am I even alive—or am I just living? Do I live because I want to… or because I have to?
I'm confused—confused about my purpose, about everything. This life… it doesn't make sense.
I always wake up in this messed-up reality of mine. Even though I'm eating breakfast with them, it feels like they're looking at me like I'm a stranger. No, worse—like I'm a nuisance.
Even though I do what they ask me to do, it seems like they can't appreciate it. They only ever see my mistakes.
"Makoto, get me some water," my older sister said coldly, not even bothering to look at me.
That's Rika Tatsunami, my older sister. She's 20, 4 years older than me. She's always holed up in her room, doing almost nothing but washing the dishes. And yet, she's the one our parents favor the most. She has a sharp tongue, a permanent frown, and a complete lack of interest in me.
"Makoto, you should stop lazing around on your phone all day. Try to do something useful," my father said sharply.
Kenshiro Tatsunami—my father. He's 43. Strict, prideful, and always thinks he's right. He believes what he's doing is for my good, but… it does more harm than anything else.
"You're always on that phone. It's not like it brings food to the table," my mother added.
Kyoko Tatsunami, 41. She's not a bad mother. She nags a lot, and sometimes it's too much—but she has moments when she's considerate. I can tell she cares, but being with my father has made her voice sharper, heavier. Sometimes I hate her, but I love her too… it's complicated.
(They're at it again…) I thought, keeping my mouth shut. (It's like no matter what I do, I'm just… invisible.)
I finished eating quickly and rushed upstairs to prepare for school.
"In the end," I whispered to myself, "I couldn't say anything. More likely… they won't hear me out."
I grabbed my bag and opened the door. "Time to head out again—to another world that's also hell."
I arrived at school earlier than anyone. The silence comforted me. Being alone in a space where no one looked at me, judged me… I felt at ease.
I'm Makoto Tatsunami. Sixteen years old. A second-year student at Toukashi High, class 2-B. Average looking. Not athletic. Kind of gloomy. But I try to be easygoing when I can. That's what I show people. Inside, though, I'm always a mess.
Ever since I was a kid, I've had trouble expressing myself. How do I find the courage to let my words reach a person? It's not like I'm shy, it's just that I'm used to feeling like I have nothing useful to say—because of how my family treats me.
The first period began, and as usual, Haruki slid into his seat next to me with a grin.
That's Amasawa Haruki. He's the only friend I have. He's cheerful, skinny, and good at math. He's the only person who feels like he's actually on my side.
"Yo, Makoto! You beat me to school again, huh?" Haruki said with a chuckle. "What'd you do, run away from home?"
I gave a tired smile. "Something like that…"
Classes went by. First period… second… the day blurred. And then came lunch.
I sat down beside Haruki under the shade near the school garden. My thoughts were heavy again. The past kept crawling up my spine.
Haruki looked at me, concern in his eyes. "Is there something bothering you again?" he asked. "You can talk to me, you know. We've known each other for years, Makoto. I can read you like a book."
I didn't answer.
"I can still see that anger in your eyes," he continued. "Listen—don't let your emotions ruin your rationality. Don't let those bottled-up feelings lead you to do something you'll regret. You've been better these past years, don't throw that away."
I nodded slowly. I didn't want to admit it, but he was right. Sometimes the weight gets too much. And when I can't let it out with words, it turns into something else—bitterness, rage, silence.
"I know," I murmured. "I'm trying."
The day dragged on. I passed by couples laughing in the hallway, holding hands like they had no care in the world. I sighed.
Love? I thought. What's so interesting about that?
I've never felt it. And right now, I don't think I want to.
After school, Haruki and I stopped by a small park near the road.
The sky glowed with the orange of the setting sun. Haruki kicked a pebble and looked up. "You know, life isn't always going to be this heavy. You'll find something to live for."
Something to live for… The words lingered in my head.
When I got home, no one greeted me. Of course. I went straight upstairs—no, to my safe place. I opened my window and looked outside. Students were walking home, laughing, talking. Some couples. Some groups of friends messing around.
Why are they laughing? How am I different from them?
"If only I was born in a different household…" I muttered, scoffing right after. Complaining won't change anything.
I closed my door, locked it. My room was the only place where I didn't have to pretend. I sat on my bed and let my thoughts drift.
I want to find something that makes me truly happy—not just anime, manga, or video games, I thought, a knot building in my chest. But how? No matter what I do, it feels like it's me against the world. Like there's no one really on my side.
And yet again… I survive my harsh reality.