The Fox Window

Tuesday

You hurry down the stairs in Shinjuku station amidst the wild babblement of people and noises.

It is a typical Tuesday morning and you are on your way to your first day at work in Tokyo. You were in a bit of hurry, and felt rather lacklustre. Perspiration kept building up within your surgical mask and your legs felt rather sore owing to the rather under-sized shoes you were wearing. Having navigated the maze of escalators and stairs, you find yourself waiting on the platform; and the train with its green and silver carriages comes gliding in. The doors slide open and hordes of people pour into the carriages. You manage to ground yourself to a spot near the door just as the train departs from Shinjuku.

The mundane view outside - Tokyo clad in the morning sun, bridges, pedestrians mostly dressed in business attire, flashy buildings galore, a general picture of rather pretentious economic prosperity - doesn't receive much of your attention outside. You felt sleep deprived, having stayed up all night reading The Setting Sun; you recall Naoki's suicide letter, and his thoughts strangely enough, seem to echo your own. As of now, you were on your smartphone frantically trying to figure out the way to your new workplace in Shibuya.

Time passes by quite fast enough and in no time, the train arrives at Shibuya, where you promptly get off. Having navigated through, you emerge on the infamous Hachiko Square. The glaring sun beams make you flinch and the ferroconcrete edifices all around seem to mock your existence. You perspire nervously under your surgical mask as you scan the place whilst walking briskly. The crowd scares you. Crowds, people and bustling humanity have always scared you, and the jostling populace at Hachiko Square isn't helping much.

"What if all these people die with me?", you mutter under your baited breath.

It's like you're a living paradox; you feel both too much and nothing, you're exhausted and high strung, you are lonely but afraid of people, you are being torn apart between the fear, despair, pain, emptiness and soul-rending apathy all at once. You wish the ground opens up and swallows you whole. Your dual-façaded existence haunts you; it rips apart your insides.

。。。。

"Hopefully, I can start fresh somewhere where nobody knows me and work on my fears. Maybe at some point, I will get up the courage to get the help that I probably really do need " - were your thoughts when you left for Tokyo. Well, at this point, your very existence scares you.