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Gotoh Hitori sighs as she walks with slumped shoulders. The band merchandise in the form of badges on her bag had once again, failed to catch the attention of her classmates. With her guitar case slung over her shoulder, she looks up at the sky, feeling melancholic.
Was she destined to be alone for her entire life? Other than her family, she can't remember the last time anyone tried to speak to her, or vice versa. Technically, her classmates tried to engage at first, but they gave up quickly. Hitori doesn’t even have the courage to reply without feeling like she might combust. Those swirling thoughts spiral in her headspace, agonizing.
Hitori wishes she were normal. She envies others who can effortlessly initiate or join a conversation—something she had never managed to do.
Even when she tries, all that comes out are awkward stutters and ragged breaths as she struggles to form coherent sentences.
Why can’t she interact normally? Is something really wrong with her?
Why is it so hard? She just needs to talk, to open her mouth and say something—anything. But what's the point if she can't find the courage?
Weak.
Pathetic.
Coward.
She wants to change so badly; it hurts.
Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. So she continues to wander aimlessly, like a lost hermit.
She has her Oh!Tube channel, where her numerous subscribers follow her to witness her mind-blowing guitar renditions of trendy songs.
So it has to be enough, right?
(Right...?)
But no matter how much validation she receives in the online universe, she is sucked into a black hole of self-doubt—
(—for this is the only place where she has proof of her existence, a tiny speck of dust in a whirlpool of dazzling stars—light-years away from ever being here.)
A few days pass with little improvement for the lost girl.
The same old routine repeats itself daily, like a broken vinyl record on loop, and nothing seems capable of breaking the monotony. It’s so mundane that it’s almost boring to watch...
Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months, all consumed by the same routine: school and home life.
It's been like this for many years.
(She despises how sick of it she’s becoming—but there’s nothing that can change the way it is now.)
Hitori's eyes wander as she walks through the streets. The weather is nice today—cloudy but sunny. It feels like a perfect day for an outing, yet it makes her want to stay indoors.
She hates crowded places. But when is it not busy?
Everywhere is bustling with people, no matter where she goes.
Hitori isn’t accustomed to large crowds—not one bit. They make her feel uneasy. Her palms get sweaty just thinking about them—the noise! She disliked it, preferring to keep to herself when surrounded.
She tries to avoid making eye contact with strangers as she walks. Sometimes it happens accidentally, leading to awkward stares and discomfort.
It makes Hitori want to crawl into a ditch, never to emerge from the hole she has dug for herself into...
Eventually, months turn to years—and still, Hitori remains trapped in her own world. No friends, nothing special to do—just going back and forth between school and home without any real purpose.
She can only play her guitar for her adoring fans, who know nothing more about her beyond her online persona as "guitarhero." She is a facet of someone else, but not a complete person on her own.
The lies she spewed on Oh!Tube were the most interesting parts of her.
She feels empty inside—so hollow, so lonely.
(It's as if she's trapped in a void where her voice goes unheard and her actions go unseen—merely an invisible observer existing solely as an audience to the world.)
She chuckles bitterly, accepting the fate she has chosen for herself. It sucks that she can't even enjoy anything else other than her guitar anymore. It makes connecting with people in this blue planet they reside in even harder.
Hitori manages to scrape by in high school. It was a miracle that she even graduated.
She decided not to try for college. Why go back to those mundane days of seeing friend groups having the time of their lives?
A few more years have passed since then.
The seasons change unceasingly, no matter how much Hitori pleads for time to rewind or freeze.
Haha...
That's right...
She can't start over…
And so, Hitori strolls through the streets near Shimokitazawa station, lost in her thoughts, accidentally bumping into people and apologizing with haste.
She trips over a step on the pavement but manages to catch herself in time. She sighs in relief as she holds onto the bottle of saké in her hand. Yes, she is of legal age now. It helps her forget the negative thoughts. It's unhealthy, but a welcome solace for her loneliness—even if only for a while.
"Ryo! You're late!" a blonde-haired girl with a white jacket chastises as she waves over a girl with blue hair. Hitori watches as Ryo makes up an excuse with a sheepish shrug. "My bad. Let’s get going, Nijika.”
"Geez… You're impossible." Nijika grumbles and walks ahead, glancing back for the tall girl to follow. Her figure is imposing—with a good fashion sense to boot—based on those monochrome colors in contrast to Hitori’s pink jersey.
"How nice..." Hitori whispers as she watches the two girls bickering disappear from view. She turns around and walks away from them. As she walks, she notices a poster plastered to the wall.
It's an advertisement for aspiring performers to participate in a local festival. Hitori shakes her head and walks away.
Performing on stage?
As if.
That would only lead to disaster—for her, anyway.
She's too shy to stand in front of so many people. There are always a few hundred at festivals like these. Besides, who would want to be seen next to someone who wears baggy clothes all day and doesn't speak unless prompted?
As Hitori leaves, an enthusiastic girl with fiery crimson hair chats happily with her friend, who points at the poster.
"Kita-chan! You should totally sign up for this! You're a great singer!" Kita giggles at her friend's suggestion, seemingly lost in thought.
"Sounds fun! Maybe I should try it out..."
More years pass, seasons change and go.
Only Hitori remains stagnant.
In an alternate universe, Hitori would be a member of a band that regularly performs in live venues, gaining fame and popularity among fans who come to see them every week. She would have made friends and bandmates for life.
A familiar wetness stings her eyes, making her blink rapidly, but it doesn't go away. Tears keep dripping onto her clothes, so she wipes them with the sleeve of her pink jersey.
This wasn’t meant to be. Just a cruel prank the world played on her.
She’s doomed to be forever alone and lonely, incapable of making friends, unable to engage in conversations with others, and unable to express herself properly to them.
She dreams of a future in which she's surrounded by friends, laughing and joking together, playing music toge—
No, she shouldn't dream about those kinds of things—they only hurt more when you wake up from such fanciful delusions.
It was nothing more than a pipe dream. A mere fantasy.
It was never meant to be. All Hitori can do is close her eyes and pray for a miracle. A chance. That one moment in life when everything aligns perfectly and changes for the better.
What a damn joke. She should stop clinging to that glimmer of hope and face the truth. She will never find happiness in the real world like this.
And yet, she still holds on tightly to it—desperate for salvation, yearning for someone to notice her.
It isn’t enough. It never was. How desperate she must be if she keeps clasping her hands and praying mindlessly for something—anything—to happen—
—perhaps in another timeline, she would be surrounded by lifelong friends who care for her, shining brightly for their audience while playing music. But for now, she's stuck here in this wretched existence, feeling as small and helpless as a bug, unable to escape the confines of her shattered eggshell.
She tried to pick up the pieces, but the shell remains stubbornly solid—as if mocking her futile attempts.
So what if she has already hatched? She's bound to burrow back into the pitch-black hole she bloomed from.
Bloomed? Don't get ahead of yourself. That voice in her head returns once more, mocking her incessantly. It’s nothing new.
It’s more like she regressed to the original position from the starting line.
In her past, present, and future, Hitori remains isolated and alone—a recluse in society—descending down an endless tunnel.
A fallen star.
A hopeless case.
Just let her fall and scatter into nothingness.
And so Hitori falls.
Further and further downward…
"Just let me fall and scatter into nothingness. I don't want to feel, don't wish to see or hear anything… It's all static to me…”
A single droplet splashes onto the floor below. She's crying. Tears drip from her chin onto the ground as she continues to fall deeper into darkness, yearning for someone—no matter how distant—who comprehends her anguish.
Since no one has ever heard her, therefore no one has ever understood her. It isn’t enough. It will never be.
She closes her eyes and smiles forlornly.
(what a shame—gotoh hitori cries to herself on a soundless blue planet—just take me away from this cruel world already—I beg of you.)
…
…
…
But even so, she's trying to catch that glimmer of light for a split second. She doesn't want to remain stagnant like this; she's frustrated. She looks at herself, at other times, at everything.
Why can't she stop clinging to hope? It's so easy to give up everything, to stop all this pain from tormenting her.
She has already succumbed to the temptation on a daily basis. And yet, she gets back up with a slight hesitation in her bones, to try once again.
Her dream hasn’t left her, after all.
She's tired. So, so tired.
Hitori clutches her head in her hands, biting her lip. She can taste the faint coppery flavor of blood.
I don't want to give up yet…!
I don't want to disappoint my parents and little sis…!
I don't want to fail them, or even worse, fail myself… I don't want—
She takes a shuddering breath and exhales slowly.
…
…
…
“Maybe it’s not too late to start over…” Hitori whispers hoarsely, reaching for her precious companion—her guitar, which had been with her almost 24/7. It grounds her. She doesn’t feel completely isolated with it by her side.
If nothing else, her guitar would never abandon her.
She takes a leap of faith—
—into that minuscule ray of glowing warmth. She’ll try a bit harder… just a little while longer…
Why? She doesn’t know. All she knows is that she’s alive, breathing—she refuses to shatter like glass until the very end. If she fails, then be damned… at least she tried. Isn’t that the most important thing?
"Please notice and listen to my voice…!"
She loses herself in her own little private rhapsody, with only herself as the audience and performer at the same time. How laughable.
This lonely rolling star continues to spin on this lonely blue planet.
At the end of this cycle is where she begins to ascend.
Towards that familiar light source she always thought she was destined to befall into the shadows of…
The corner of her lip turns up slightly. It’s a feeble attempt at a smile, but it’s sincere. She wonders why her thoughts fluctuate so much that she could feel hopeful at this point in time.
(At the age of twenty-five, Gotoh Hitori decides to take the plunge. Just once more. After all, her heart is still pumping. Her veins are still pulsating. It’s a faint optimism born from her own selfish desires, but it’s there. And for now, that’s enough.)