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"The man should be happy with what he has, and not give up on wordly morals to please himself. No one deserves suffering at the hand of another and you should respect everyone's autonomy. Sexual pleasure is temporary but the consequences will lurk forever. I'm not trying to order you around, you're your own judge, but I'm advising you to get help first before quitting your job and getting into daycare. You know what you're struggling with, and you know you're in no position to stay around kids all day, without getting yourself in trouble one way or another. But, at the end of the day, as i told you, I cannot tell you what to do, I can only advise you, as a friend would." Sigma said, taking a sip from his coffee mug right after, as a way to moisturize his throat after all that talking. Nikolai stared at him for a moment, contemplating what he said, before he was ready to give an uninterested, definitive answer, almost like he didn't pay attention to anything his friend said. "It's alright, I'll figure it on my own. I'm not scared of consequences, and as for the perception of others, it doesn't bother me a lot. You know me. The life working as a cashier is not that fulfilling, and I didn't just finish a bachelor's degree in education for nothing. And, afterall, kindergartener teachers don't need science knowledge. They just sit around, taking care of little kids...I know it wont be easy, but better than wasting my life away in that hellhole of a shop, where I do nothing, sell cigarettes all day and get paid like shit. Also, what are you implying when saying 'sexual pleasure' !? Lolicon is not real life ! It ain't that deep...anyways, I need money at the end of the day, and a caretaker makes more than a stupid cashier...maybe I'll move to a nicer apartment and not live in this post communist shitty apartment.." The bandages on Nikolai's wrists started showing wet spots of red blood as Nikolai stretched his arm to reach his own mug from the kitchen's counter. "Ow...they re-opened..?" The albino man whined. "And you want to go a kindergarten with *those* ? You need to give up on this habit if you want to work at a daycare, you know ? And you're 24, for the love of God, get a grip ! And lolicon is one step away from the real thing, you degenerate." Sigma scolded him, taking the pink mug, with a tabby kitty on it, to his lips. "I'll wear long sleeves...and why would people care what I do with my own wrists !? Especially kids..they don't know this type of shit.." he lights himself a cigarette with the long stove lighter, next to the air frier, and offers Sigma one as well. Sigma gladly takes one. He felt like he really needed one in that moment ! "Tch...I have to go to work in 30 minutes..." Sigma said, quietly, looking at the table, when Nikolai's phone started ringing, making both of them jolt a little bit. Girls were heard moaning loudly, in the background of a japanese song. It was coming from Nikolai's phone. Nikolai, embarrassed, grabbed his phone and struggled to close it as fast as possible, while Sigma just stared at him, in confusion and obvious disgust. "Nikolai, with all sincerity, you're not getting a job at a daycare with this." "I know, I know..." Nikolai disappointedly replied, as he was tapping his fingers on the cracked phone screen. The room remained quiet. Gogol, together with his dear friend, Sigma, were in the kitchen, drinking their coffee and having a smoke together before going to work. The apartment belonged to Nikolai. It was a small apartment complex, on the 4th floor.
I wish to expand the description of this story by adding my own notes and expressing my vision regarding Nikolai in a direct way to, you, my dear reader. Nikolai, a young man in his 20s, whos life has been one of "much shame", if I dare to even associate this disgusting man to Osamu's work, and by shame I mean that Nikolai was a degenerate, who spent his free time watching child anime pornography, smoking, masturbating and slitting his wrists until they looked deformed, until you could barely recognize it's an arm, all butchered up, barely giving the cuts time to heal before doing it again to relieve stress and take his anger out. As for his problem with lolicon content, he wasn't worried in the slightest ! Yes, it was embarrassing, but he didn't hold lolicon to the same regard as actual child porn. There weren't legal consequences for that, either, so why would he care ? Nikolai was a man who never bothered to please the world. Words didn't get to him really often and being seen as a weirdo by his peers who saw his homescreen with a naked loli or strangers on the street that saw the bleeding arms through the bandages didn't affect him either. You could say his skin was pretty thick ! But he wasn't completely untouchable. He always dreamed of working in a happy, colorful environment, one that could pull him out of his depressive episodes, one that could motivate him to keep going and hoping, to finally look forward to seeing someone ! He wanted to be a clown, work in a circus, travel all over the world, make people laugh and live carefree ! Bu, as we know, the life of an adult doesn't work like that. You need to eat, to pay rent, taxes, being always on the run is hard. Nikolai learned to accept his faith, working in this capitalist modern world, but never truly forgot. Maybe working at a day care will fill the emptiness he feels, since it meets some of his previous goals and could, to some capacity, be similar to the circus life.
This was one of his weaknesses ! He had one more, tho ! He couldn't fix his morals to the society's expectations. He lost many jobs because of that. Nikolai had trouble fitting in, had trouble adapting. The albino was fired for being inappropriate towards his coworkers, for public indecency, for breaking policies, for getting into fights with customers and so on ! Got kicked out of multiple night club bar jobs, multiple stores, so on and so forth. Luckily, an old fat man, named Pyotr, who owned a small kiosk a few streets away from Nikolai's apartment, decided to take him in and let him sell packs of cigarettes, sodas and newspapers all day, for a decent salary.
The kiosk was located in the outskirts of the small town of Russia, between tall communist apartment buildings and close to the church of Saint George, that Nikolai walked pass by everyday to get to work, making a cross sign with his hands, habitually, everytime he came close to it, a sign of faith in the eastern european tradition.
As to detail more on the old man, he was wise, with the necessary life experiences and teachings that came with aging, who gave Nikolai, from time to time, great advice. He treated the young man as his grandson. Gogol didn't mind it in the slightest, in fact, it kinda pleased him a little bit, but he never really showed it with his actions. Everything Pyotr said came in one ear, and left, in miliseconds, through the other, nothing sticking to him from the stories and teachings the elder gave him because of his stubbornness and the youthful mind that thinks he's right about it all and theres no more wisdom to obtain after the age of 21.
Back to the present moment, Nikolai stood up as soon as he finished his cigarette, and walked up to the door. "I gotta get to work, now...by the way, can you make dinner tonight ? Its your turn." "Dont feel like it. We'll just get take out."
He said before heading out.
Nikolais plan on becoming a kindergarten teacher was clear in his head. It wasnt going to be that hard, considering his experience. It was going to turn out good for him, and bad for the unfortunate kids that are about to meet him and get in contact with the albino. The adult was definitely planning on latching onto at least one of the little kids, like the pedophile degenerate he was. He also had this special "ability" to develop obsessions for every person that slightly acknowledges him. It was his weakness, his misfortune and the thing that brought him much shame, despite his carefree, unbothered attitude.
Fyodor was a 4 year old boy, living in an apartment, on the only boulevard of that small city. He lived with his mother and his dad was out of the picture. The boy was a short, pale kid, with big purple eyes that looked like the ones of a doe and made your knees weak and your heart melt whenever he stared at you. His hair was thin, black, like ebony, and almost reached his smooth, pale shoulders, that were covered in little moles, many, that seemed like the stars on the night sky. He was fairly skinny, as any kid his age, after all. To detail his character a little bit, he was a quiet, calm kid. Of course, he had his little tantrums, particular to his age group, but it didn't dominate his introverted personality and made him stand out around adults as being an obedient, easy to handle kid. These were praises he often heard, and his mother took great pride in it. She used these traits of his to brag to her friends during the quiet Sunday afternoon's, when all the ladies gathered up to drink coffee together and gossip. Fyodor was observant for his age, noticing the subjects the madams tackled, that usually revolved around topics such as: what the neighbor downstairs did, the divorce between the neighbors next block, their useless husbands and their exceptional kids. Anyhow, he didn't exhaust his mind with such things, he played with his toys and went about his day.
I do wish to paint the picture of the post communist apartment Fyodor lives in. It's quite small, with the living room constituting the biggest room. Its ordinary and modest, typical to the style the eastern european man appreciated, with furniture the color of mahogany wood, decorated with lace and shiny porcelain figurines: the ballerina, the uncle, the hunter with his dog and mother chicken with her chicks. The porcelain is protected by glass shelve doors, kept to be admired and not be played with. The couch had tiger stripes all over and had a beige - brown color scheme to it. The walls had decorative wall paper on them that featured small flowers and the lights were yellowish. Pots of flowers and tall, green, plants sat by the window.