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Itaru wakes up in his own bed.
The first thing he sees is the white ceiling, and when he moves his neck to the right, he sees posters of animes and games he once loved to bits ages ago. They were still loved and fondly thought of, but the hand of time wears everything down. In the back of his mind, he thinks about the last anime he binged. He sits up, and he sees his small wooden shelf of light novels and manga across from him. To the man’s recollection, he had a much bigger shelf filled with even more titles. At least they were arranged alphabetically. Manga and game discs were the only things Itaru was willing to sort out properly. He sits up from the bed, and notices that the sheets are in white. He sees his small, small work desk on the opposite end of the room. It’s made out of wood and painted black. One side of it was dedicated to stationary and textbooks, while the other was the sanctuary for his consoles and games. It definitely wasn’t a good idea, putting schoolwork and games in a space so close to both, but since when did Itaru have bright ideas anyways?
He looks at the floor. White tiles covered in carpet. There was a sliding door leading to the balcony, and it was covered with a thick curtain. Itaru looked at the brown door, leading to the outside of the room. He would know. This is his own bedroom anyways.
He’s back at home.
The door opens, and Itaru is faced with… Itaru.
Itaru— the younger Itaru at the door— stays frozen in place and blinks once at the man sitting on his bed. His overgrown ginger bangs cover his large, bright red eyes. If his eyes weren’t covered enough, they were framed by black glasses. He was wearing his school uniform. The blazer, tie and checkered pants were always telltale signs of a prestigious school’s uniform. One hand was on the doorknob, and the other hand was on his school bag. There were no accessories or keychains that decorated it. Itaru dropped the bag and inhaled. Seems he forgot to breathe for a moment. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it too much.
“Who are you?” the young boy asks. If he was cautious, he didn’t show it either. Itaru didn’t really show a lot of emotion.
Well, neither did this Itaru. The older man kept his face neutral, but that didn’t mean that he knew what to say. What was he even supposed to say in a situation like this? This doesn’t normally happen outside of fantasy plotlines— wait.
“You’re inside a cliche manga trope,” older Itaru said with a small grin.
“Yeah, right.” Younger Itaru remained emotionless. Tough crowd.
The older sighed. There wasn’t really anything he could say to make this entire ordeal any easier. It’s not like he could freely lie either. A lie would definitely make him shady, but the truth isn’t going to be any better. However, there wasn’t anything else for him to do.
“I’m Chigasaki Itaru, but older.”
Young Itaru blinked again. He eyed the other (himself…?) from top to bottom, and focused especially on the face. The older Itaru knows that it’s just himself, and a child at that, but he still felt a little bit conscious, being stared down like that. Old habits just don’t die, huh. Plus, teenagers were judgemental to the bone. Young Itaru stayed silent as he observed. If there was anything about Itaru to know about, it was that he was incredibly sharp. He doesn’t utilize his intelligence the way others would want to because he doesn’t find any meaning in it, but the wits are definitely there.
“Why do you have bleached tips in your hair? And where are your glasses?” It seems the small detective has finished his analysis. But after all that intense staring, he gave out a pretty lackluster response. He still looked blank as hell. Probably even bored of this entire thing.
“College,” older Itaru replied. “It does things to you.” It was meant to be a joke, but the younger Itaru had a slight scowl forming on his face.
“So I change myself again, huh...”
Crap. What was the right response to that? Itaru couldn’t lie, not to his younger self. He definitely changed his looks for whatever reason was starting to form in the other’s head. The child must be so tired. Itaru would know. That is him, after all. Even if he looked like a blank slate, he knows what his movements imply. Right now, younger Itaru was staring at the ground. He’s deep in thought. But even if he knew himself, he doesn’t always know what he wants to hear. Itaru didn’t know what he wanted to hear when he bleached his head blonde and started wearing contacts to detach himself from his high school personality, how was he supposed to know what to say to himself about all of this?
The younger sighed. He nudged his bag a bit closer inside the room with his socked foot and took off his blazer. He threw it on his desk chair, which was a typical Itaru move, and looked at the older. “Onee-san isn’t going to be home until nine. I don’t mind sparing an extra cup of instant ramen to myself. You should know the usual with my… our parents.”
That was rather quick. Itaru doesn’t recall being that trusting, especially to strange grown men sitting on his own bed. “You believe me?”
“I’d believe anything about a fantasy right about now. I’m too tired to think logically. Your eyes are as tired as mine, and your voice is just like how I sound when I try to act all princely.” Younger Itaru was rather straight to the point. There was some venom in his words as he spoke. He really was tired, wasn’t he?
The child walked to the door, and looked blankly at the adult. “Well? Are you going to eat or not? Don’t tell me you progressed past the need for instant noodles.”
Older Itaru stood up, and followed right behind the other. “If you were hoping I did, I unfortunately still have the tastes of a high schooler.” They shuffled out of the room, and older Itaru had a wave of nostalgia hit him. Since when was the last time he saw home? The house was big, modern and fancy. It suited his big, modern and fancy parents and their presumably big, modern and fancy children. Both Itarus should know by heart that they aren’t cut out for a grand life. And their older sister definitely isn’t either. Chigasakis are fake, and they know it.
They moved out of the hallway and made it downstairs to the dining room. Younger Itaru could eat something better than instant noodles, but he didn’t really bother. It saved him from the fuss of having to deal with complex food he didn’t have the interest in eating. Nothing’s really changed with older Itaru. Less time eating, the more time gaming. The more time gaming, the more relaxed they could be before having to face war again. War being the outside world for the both of them.
The electric kettle was filled with water, and two cups of instant noodles were brought out from a convenience store bag. Mr. and Mrs. Chigasaki would never buy their children cheap food, but it’s not like they were ever around to see them eat it. It’s not like they see Itaru bring in bags of chips and soda after prep school either, so it didn’t really matter. Man, a lot of memories are being brought up now, huh.
“So,” older Itaru leaned against the kitchen counter, thinking of something to say. It shouldn’t really be awkward, talking to himself. Both of them know that they can’t hold a conversation anyways. And younger Itaru would get a preview of how socially inept his older self still is. Pretty exciting, if you ask the older. However, this is a rather interesting situation. This doesn’t usually happen. “What semester and year are you in?”
“…Third year, second semester.”
Oh.
Third year.
Out of all times for him to be able to talk to his younger self, it had to be at this period. How would Itaru… continue talking about this? He barely even thinks about third year by himself. How would he be able to talk to his younger self, the one with the fresh wounds, about the time he hated the most?
The water inside the kettle started to boil. It was the only thing permeating the silence. It’s no doubt that the younger Itaru knew what that silence meant.
But older Itaru is quick to change the subject. “Say, you said that you were pretty tired earlier. Care to tell me what’s on your mind? We’re both Chigasaki Itarus here. Can’t judge you for being you, but you’re free to judge me.” Did he even have any expectations for himself in the future? He doubts it. He didn’t have any passion he wanted to follow other than sticking to his games. He already knew what kind of job was out there for him when he went into high school. It was the only time he had to talk to his parents, and no, exchanging greetings and pretending to sound happy at school wasn’t considered as talking. They said something about being a salaryman, just like them. Itaru didn’t have any complaints. He sees how loaded they are. Corporate slavery was a lucrative job, definitely enough to satisfy his gaming desires, as long as he pretended that he was using his money to flaunt the big, modern and fancy image a Chigasaki should have.
“School. You should know the rest.” Younger Itaru was idly thumbing at his phone. Did older Itaru even have his phone on him? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to check just yet. It seems that younger him is still unwilling to open his heart, even to himself. Typical Itaru behavior yet again. It’s definitely like him to not acknowledge problems to himself. As long as he didn’t think about it, as long as he maintained his good image, then there is no problem. Whatever personal problem he had didn’t matter. That thinking was especially evident in younger Itaru’s retort.
“Yikes.” Itaru knows better than to push it. He knows his younger self would just get irritated. Instead, he looks at the younger’s phone and sees that he’s taking care of a virtual pet. Right. There weren’t that many hardcore mobages in this time just yet. High school Itaru was more of a console guy. Now, adult Itaru is both a console guy and a mobage guy. He starts thinking. What were his comfort games in high school? “What’s your progress in Kniroun IV?”
“I’m on my seventh run,” younger Itaru says as he plays a minigame with his pet. He rubs an eye with his free hand.
Seventh? Damn. So there was a time where Itaru had only replayed Knights of Round IV while his count was still in single digits. Well, of course there was a time like that, but it really did feel like he played the game for the first time eons ago. The feeling of it still stayed over the years though. “I’m on my thirty-second, if I recall correctly.”
Now that’s where younger Itaru looks up from his phone. “Seriously? Geez, our life gets even more shitty than it is now?”
Oh, if only he knew.
Itaru chuckled, almost bitterly. “Future you is just a child at heart. I just can’t let go of IV. You should get me, right?”
Younger Itaru looked to the side. “Well… yeah, I guess I do.”
“Oh, but that this means that XI is about to have its debut in two months, right? How are you holding up?”
Uncharacteristically, (no, it wasn’t. the child just really, really missed talking about games) younger Itaru’s eyes lit up. “I can’t bear to wait any longer. If you try spoiling me about any of the future games from whatever world you come from, I’m going to give myself an injury so bad you’ll regret doing it.”
Itaru laughed. “I won’t dare do such a thing. Though, you should probably look out for spoiler threads on Bluedit. I’ve fallen victim to them a lot more times I wouldn’t like to admit.”
“Still?” Younger Itaru sighed. “You never really do learn, do you.”
The older wonders about that. “Like I said, I’m just a child at heart. You know we both don’t listen.” That line wasn’t supposed to hit so hard. Itaru remembers all the things he was thinking of when he dropped that limited edition keychain… in Tonooka’s presence. For better and for worse, he didn’t listen to the thoughts that told him to run away. To be fair, he didn’t know what he was getting into. He was just an extremely lonely kid.
At least he can keep that extremely lonely kid in some company tonight. Looks like he really needs it. Younger Itaru was smiling a little. If he saw himself smiling, he would think that he looked like some clown, but seeing his younger self smiling in the period where he was suffering so, so much…
Itaru would tell him to never stop smiling, but he knows that’s impossible. So, he better make the child comforted for as much as he can. The prospects of this situation are definitely weird, so his time here could be up pretty soon.
The kettle beeped, signalling that the water was done heating up. Younger Itaru took to pouring the boiling water into the noodles, and then they both sat at the dinner table. Normally, Itaru would just eat his barely passable dinner in his room, but guess there was still manners in store for guests… even if that guest was himself.
“Hey,” younger Itaru says before blowing on his noodles, “what’s it like in the future? Do I at least get a high paying job?”
“I thought you didn’t like spoilers.”
“This isn’t about a game. I want to know as much as I can so I can have some sort of motivation to keep on going.”
Ah.
It kind of hurts, hearing that. Itaru knew how hard it was for himself back then. He was all alone, he didn’t have anyone to talk to, and his only coping mechanism was indulging himself in fantasies and fictional worlds, but even doing that didn’t do him good all the time. There were a lot of things he considered at the time. A lot of… dark, and unhealthy things. Well, it was to be expected from a socially isolated teenager without a family guiding him. He was forced into a high level dungeon without any party members, equipment, or buffs. Not even a tutorial was spared. He had to grind against extremely high level monsters, (the world and his heavy thoughts) and it just felt so impossible.
He just wanted to quit.
But he hung on to the flimsy dream that he might be able to be happy with someone else again.
So, with Itaru hearing his younger self tell him that… it reminded him of how much it really hurt him.
Itaru slowly starts to find his words. He has to. It’s for himself. It’s to strengthen the weak dream he desperately clung to. To brighten the fading light in the darkness. He has to keep himself going. To convince him to keep on working hard. “To put it into a short teaser, the future is definitely something to look forward to.” He smiles at his younger self.
“Really now, huh. Even with your changed look and annoying voice?”
“Even with my changed look and annoying voice,” older Itaru says firmly. “I know it’s really tough right now, but I’m still here. I’m the product of everything that happened in high school, and I can say that I quite like where I am now.”
“…So you won’t tell me anything specific?” Younger Itaru started to frown.
“Sorry. I don’t think it’ll be fair on the both of us if I told you what happens in the future. Best to keep yourself sharp.” Even if I know it’s cruel to do this to you, you need to keep on looking forward in the dark.
“Then tell me one thing.” Younger Itaru looks at his older self in the eye. His sharp gaze was starting to falter by the second.
“I’ll try.”
“Will I be happy?”
Itaru’s eyes widened for a moment. He looked back on the events that happened after high school. His endless nights of streaming in college, maintaining his hectic schedule of work and games when he graduated, and the difficulties that came with acting in a theatre troupe for a free room… they were all, without a doubt, very hard things to do. There were a lot of times where Itaru just wanted to quit it all and stop. His only want in life was always constantly being taken away, so what was the point, he would always think. But… did he really have to think so hard about something so simple?
Itaru smiled. His smile was reaching his eyes, and he looked at his past self as he spoke earnestly.
“You’ll be the happiest you can ever be.”
“Huh. Then… it’ll all be worth it?”
“Absolutely."
“All of the pain?”
“As long as you’re patient enough.”
There was finally a crack in the mask past Itaru made to protect himself. He inhaled sharply as his eyes started to water. “I’ll… be happy… A future like that is possible for someone like me…?”
Oh. This was hard to look at, but this child’s feelings are what led Itaru to where he is now. It was like being uncertain about whether a happy ending will be met or not. It was like the peak moment where all the painstaking hard work of trying to pick all the right choices was to be judged. Even if these things filled Itaru with nervousness, he wanted to see it all until the end. He wanted to keep on trying and hoping for his happy ending.
And we all probably know the result of Itaru’s long years of grinding in that high level dungeon.
Itaru stood up from his seat and walked towards younger Itaru. He knelt down and hugged him as best as he could.
“I don’t know if I make a good hugger, but I know that you really need this.” He let his younger self bury his face into his chest. The sounds of sobbing were muffled, thanks to his coat. Itaru might have started crying himself if he had to see all of this 100%. But now, he focused on keeping his arms firm.
“You deserve to be happy more than anything. It’s unfairly hard now, but I promise you that it’ll be worth it. You just need to keep on going on.” Itaru felt the trembling child in his arms embrace him tight. “You need to be strong,” he said softly.
After a while, the crying started to subside. Younger Itaru was still sniffling into the other’s chest, but he was okay. He’s okay. It’s going to be okay for him.
“Thank you,” his weak voice said.
Itaru gave the child a few strokes on the head. “It’s the least I could do.”
The two stay that way for a while.
…
Itaru wakes up in his own bed.
He sees the white ceiling, and he notices that his sheets are black. He finds himself lying down on a loft bed, which was evident from seeing the door a bit smaller than it should be. It faintly smells like oil and spice inside the room. He feels oddly refreshed.
He feels happy.