Satoshi Tanaka was as ordinary as they came. He was an average student. He worked part-time after school. He graduated and didn't get into Tokyo University or some other elite institution. He progressed to being a lackey at a publishing company.
No, it wasn't a big-time publisher. So no, he didn't get a behind-the-scenes look at the hottest manga. And no, he didn't have any prospects.
There were times he found himself wishing, no, wondering what it would be like to have been born remarkable. Talented. Above average. Like a genius composer or a world-champion athlete by the age of 17 or something. What would life had been like?
It certainly would not have been so bland that he literally got bored to death.
Yes, I was bored to death. Big deal. That was suppossed to be the most embarassing part. But the thing with life is when it starts handing you lemons… Oh, right. The thing with death is that it too keeps hurling lemons at you and you have to yada yada yada… sigh.
It was a Thursday evening. Satoshi had toyed with the idea of going out drinking after hours. Now, it wasn't as though he had so many friends that he was spoilt for choice when it came to drinking buddies.
He had never known what it was like to juggle multiple friend groups.
Far from it.
However, there were a few people he could call if he badly needed to.
But the thing was, Satoshi was just so tired.
You would be too if you'd spent an entire working day filing paper, printing paper, stacking paper, organizing paper, receiving paper deliveries…
See? Boring stuff.
It was a wonder that Satoshi hadn't gone insane. Or rather, that he hadn't gone insane yet.
Perhaps there was a bomb ticking away somewhere in the recesses of his mind and one of these days, he'd blow up and destroy himself and everything in sight within a mile radius.
Or worse still.
Maybe he had already lost it and was just deluding himself that he was sane. Well not sane exactly (he himelf could accept that he wasn't), but sane-passing.
Whatever. His brain was too tired to conclusively judge its own state.
He gave up on the idea of going out. He didn't even know where he'd get the strength for his commute back home.
Satoshi thought it would be better in the long run to linger in the office at least until the rush hour madness subsided. Yes, there was greater insanity out in the world than in his mind.
He stacked away his final batch of paperwork and streched, yawning for a bit too long, and rather loudly.
It didn't matter though.
After all, as a low-level office worker, he was still at work while more senior "professionals" had left already, and were busy entertaining clients, catching up with colleagues or whatever higher-ups did off the clock.
In the solitude of the office, he could at least breathe a little, losen up, and not have to think too hard about decorum and all that. And turn down the lights too.
Phew!
Now all that was left to do was to find a comfortable spot for a nice little nap. Satoshi wasn't going to sleep at his own station. The wood that made up his desk (was it really wood, or one of those tacky wood-look-alike materials) was too stiff.
His seat was definitely not designed for comfort. Whichever sadist furniture maker it came from clearly intended it to keep your back straight. So straight that Satoshi could have easily served as a poster-boy for stock photos on "proper office posture".
Such party poopers.
No, no. This simply wouldn't do.
He scanned the room—not that doing so brought much pleasure or inspiration given its catalog-esque, basic design—for the least uncomfortable spot.
Of course, this was Manager Tomisawa's plushy green seat facing a work table completely covered in a velvety material. Tomisawa claimed that he needed ample space to use his work mouse unrestrained by mere, commonplace mousepads.
Bet he enjoys a nap every now and then too.
It was certainly a welcome change from his desk. So roomy. So velvety. So plush. So sleep-inducing…
That he just… never got up. Not when his alarm went off. Not when the sun came up. Not when someone screamed.
Okay. Maybe he did get up when the screaming happened.
But when his eyelids managed to part and he blinked away the blurriness, he certainly wasn't at Manager Tomisawa's station or at work or anywhere he recognized for that matter…