Our very last book

Chapter 1

I am a social being by nature — every person is — it urges us to meet new people, to interact with one's environment, to learn from one another. It does not necessarily mean that we have to spend every hour of every day with someone, everybody needs their alone time after all. It simply means that one cannot isolate themselves forever, to detach themselves from the world around them. It is a wonderful instinct which makes our society stronger and pushes us further in evolution. A lot have the essence to serve others, some to teach others, in short everyone is linked to the world by their social life. We exist only through the lenses of the people around us, just like Schrödinger's cat is alive and dead at the same time as long as the outside does not see its state.

Therefore, when I noticed Shuichi running away from his group of friends and acquaintances little by little, rejecting their love and help discreetly, ending up being completely alone, I was perplexed. At first I supposed that he had an acceptable reason behind it, but his state was only getting worse, severe to the point that I could not imagine him feeling anything else than loneliness. He looked content anyhow, smiling sheepishly while reading a book behind the school, leaning against the concrete wall, sitting on the cold cemented ground as dirt got stuck on his clothes. He would sometimes pick up the long plastic bottle next to him to gulp down some water, letting the liquid run between his slightly parted lips. The lights barely reached him, keeping him in a serene darkness which made him nearly invisible to everything. Had I not seen him present and lively in the beginning of the school year, I would have believed that he was a ghost, a soul roaming in our world.

His apparent satisfaction perturbed me deeply — it did not make any sense to me. As I said before, we all crave social interaction to some degree, but he was escaping from it actively instead. And the more he disappeared, the more I wanted to approach him to bring him back to our world, to the ones who were walking around in the light, gleaming happily while getting closer to one another, leaving an imprint in history through the memories they shared within the class. It was inconceivable that he wanted to give up his links after all the time he spent building them up in the beginning. I was almost jealous of his proximity with the most out-going people while my personality and sense of humor was not that well received, but here he was throwing all his efforts away like when we dispose of used tissues. His pensive nearly dead eyes scared me, and the peace brimming in his aura was unnatural even if a certain fatigue enveloped his frail being. I absolutely wanted to help him — he looked like he was in need of strong aid.

Though I pitied him, I also felt intrigued by his odd behavior. How come he was acting this way, why did he cut off everyone around him? He who had it all so easily, so luckily, was getting rid of his privilege and I could not comprehend it. It felt like my duty to explore it further, to understand a perspective I never had, teach him how to be happy, or maybe learn from his view instead. Our difference excited me; it was pulling me to him like the forces of magnets, and other than my generosity, my thirst for new and knowledge also manifested.

And so I let this attraction exert itself without resistance. I sat down next to him uninvited, curiously, shooting a few discreet glances in his direction to signal him my presence. He did not even budge — it seemed as if his book sucked him in, though I did not feel like he was actually reading. He was just turning the pages from time to time as he zoned out, staring into nothingness. However as much as he was busy, I loathed getting ignored, so I put on my expressive poutiness and nudged him just a tad strongly.

"Whatcha doing you loner? Your friends gave up on you?"

I know that I am not the most subtle being on this planet but bear with me.

He blinked twice slowly, unmoving, with the same beam plastered on his thin lips. I presumed he was trying to push me away by being unresponsive, but I was not going to give up easily. I scooted nearer, almost leaning into his face, making sure he could not just brush me off. He took in a deep but shakey breath as a wild strand of his hair laced down his face, hugging his colorless features. His sigh was silent, as if he wanted to manifest the less presence possible, but I could still feel the gush of warm air tickle my face. He parted his chapped lips with a slight quiver as he was getting ready to talk. He must have forgot how to do so since he had last done it.