Work Text:
Fuuta has always had a certain sense of judgement. He preferred to observe rather than talk. He was very introverted, which resulted in a lack of friends. He never really understood the concept of friends—what made him different from other people? Why are certain people loved and others not? The world would be so much easier if everyone had one person to love; that way, he might feel needed. He had a lot of time to think. He thought a lot about different kinds of things; he liked to think about the meaning of things or words. He liked to think about what friends were and how they were supposed to be. What parents are supposed to do for their kids. What exactly he wanted to do with his life. What the meaning of it was. He didn’t really have an answer for the latter, but he decided that the best answer for now was to keep others in check. If everyone makes sure to keep others in check, the world should be a beautiful and safe place, right? One of the things he strived to achieve was happiness. He doesn’t think he ever experienced true happiness. His feelings have always been kind of.. dull. Like his whole life has been an outer-body experience. He wasn’t happy, sad, or anything. Life just happened without him enjoying or being proud of anything he ever did.
He didn’t necessarily hate his life; he just didn’t understand it. He tried to appreciate it. He tried to be thankful before he ate; he tried to take a moment before bed to be thankful for the things that happened, but it was just so hard. He was grateful for his parents. They loved him, yet he didn’t feel loved. There must be something wrong with me, he often thought. He didn’t have friends. He didn’t understand his parents love, or love in general. He had never loved anyone like the love they talked about in music, films, and art. He didn’t know what to do with his future. He was unsure about so many things, and while most people would get depressed thinking about the endless unsureness of life, Fuuta just got angry. Didn’t people realise that because of their unsureness, other people made decisions for them? Countries and laws made decisions that put people in cages, and it is so so so so unfair. Fuuta didn’t understand and would never understand how people let other people make decisions for them. Most laws were unfair and conservative. Why are older people in charge of the rules while the young generation doesn’t get to say anything about their world? Everything made Fuuta angry. The fact he barely had any friends made it worse; it gave him so much more time to ponder over the forever-burning-questions in his mind. What is good and what is bad? Is there a God? If so, should we follow their rules? What is freedom? How much freedom does he have? How can he get more?
Even though Fuuta doesn’t really like to admit it, he spends a lot of his time online. He has a lot of free time, and this free time is most often used to interact on various social media websites. He’s never honest about himself. He’s okay with sharing his age, but his name should always be kept private. He loves that about the internet: he can take on a persona and no one knows. He gets to choose his own name, his own personality, if he has pets and how many and their names, his love life, and anything else he wants. On the internet, safely hidden behind his persona, he can be literally anything. He shares a lot of his thoughts. He talks about his views on the world, the things he’d change, and how. At first, his following was small. The interactions felt intimate. He was grateful to be able to discuss his opinions with someone with the anonymity his persona gave him. If he gave a radical opinion, who would care? No one knew him. His account gave him friendships he never thought he’d experience. He pondered a lot about whether he could call it friendship if his friends didn’t know who he actually was, but because he didn’t know who was honest and who wasn't, he didn’t really care. Fuuta gave himself one rule: he could lie about his age, name, and anything else that had to do with who he was, but he had to be truthful about his opinions. He wanted to be honest. He needed a place to let out his thoughts, unfiltered, about the world he lived in and had started to despise.
After a while of sharing his views on various topics, he started to gather quite a following. The interactions went from small and intimate to bigger and bigger audiences. Instead of discussing with him, people started to discuss with each other about his posts. People started to refer to them on their own accounts when he wasn’t part of the conversation. It made Fuuta feel important. He made a difference in people’s lives. He changed people’s opinions. People started telling him he could make a change. His opinions and views were great, but where were the actions? At some point, he started to realise people would listen to him if he just asked. If he went against someone’s opinion, other people would follow. If he told them to go against someone, they did. He started planning how to use this to his advantage. At first, he was careful; if he found someone with a completely wrong opinion, he simply told his followers to tell them they were wrong. He was careful with what he saw as a wrong opinion; he knew his views weren’t the only good ones. But as time went on and more people followed his every word, he got sloppy. He decided his view was the only good one. Other people’s were wrong. He didn’t just tell his followers to nicely tell them they were wrong; he made them bully them. It was the most effective way to make them see how bad their opinions were in his eyes. He only meant to change their opinion. He never meant to actually hurt anyone. He didn’t want that.
But to be fair, she did it to herself. So was he really to blame for her actions? Fuuta wondered. Is this what happiness is??
