NHK ni Youkoso! Vol 1 Chapter 1

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NHK ni Youkoso!



NHK ni Youkoso! Vol 1 Chapter 1


Chapter 01

Birth of a Soldier

Part One

On a cold, cold January night, I learned about the existence of a

conspiracy.

In my tiny six-mat1

, one-room apartment, I had ensconced myself

next to my kotatsu stove.2

 It was a painfully dreary night.

Despite it being a new millennium, there was no hope in sight. I even

cried while eating my New Years soup.3

For an unemployed, twenty-two-year-old, male college dropout, the

winter chill was piercing. In the middle of my filthy room, where

thrown-off clothing littered the floor and the smell of cigarette smoke

had soaked into the walls, I sighed over and over.

How could things have come to this?

It was all I could think about. 

Birth of a Soldier

11

"Ah," I moaned.

If I didnt break out of my present condition soon, I would fall

behind completely and disappear from normal society. Even worse, I was

a college dropout already. I needed to find work fast and return to

society.

I just. . . couldnt do it.

Why? What was the reason?

The answer is simple: Because I am a hikikomori.

4

Currently, the hottest, most popular new social phenomenon—

hikikomori. Thats me. A recluse.

They say that there are now approximately two million hikikomori

living in j.a.pan. Two million is a tremendous number. If someone threw

a rock on the street, they would hit a hikikomori. . . Of course, that

wouldnt really happen. Hikikomori dont go outside, after all.

Anyway, I was one of the hikikomori currently so popular here in

j.a.pan. Not to mention that I was somewhat of a veteran hikikomori. I

left my apartment only once a week, and then Id just to go to a

convenience store for food and cigarettes. My friends numbered zero,

and I slept sixteen hours a day.

This year would mark four full years of living as a hikikomori. My

lifestyle had caused me to drop out of college.

Seriously, I was such a frightful hikikomori that I should have been

approaching professional status. No matter whom I might be up against,

I really doubted Id lose easily to other hikikomori.

In fact, I was confident that if an "International Hikikomori

Olympics" were to take place, I would score pretty well. I was certain I

would beat out other hikikomori regardless of country, whether it was a 

Welcome to the N.H.K.

12

Russian hikikomori who escaped through vodka, an English hikikomori

whose escape was through drugs, or an American hikikomori who found

escape by randomly shooting guns indoors.

Right! The famous founder of kyokushin karate,

5

 Mr. Masutatsu

Ohyama, also known as the "G.o.dhand," supposedly holed up in the

mountains during his youth in order to hone his spirit before going on to

become the worlds strongest karate master. If you think about it from

that standpoint, then I—who have been holed up continuously in this

apartment for a number of years—must be, at this very moment,

incredibly close to becoming the strongest man in the world.

Well, it was worth a try. I decided to set up a beer bottle and try to

break it with a chop of the hand.

"Hiii-ya!"

While wrapping my bloodied right hand in a bandage, I sat back down

at the kotatsu.

Any way you looked at it, my mind hadnt been working properly of

late. Could it be because I get sixteen hours of sleep per day? Or was it

because Id avoided contact with other people for more than half a year?

All day long, my brain remained in a fog. Even when I walked to the

bathroom, my gait was unsteady.

But I didnt care about all that.

The more immediate problem was how to break out of this helpless

hikikomori lifestyle.

Yes! I have to escape this festering hikikomori life as fast as possible. A 

Birth of a Soldier

13

return to human society! A rebound from dropping out! Ill work, find a

girlfriend, and lead a normal life!

If I continue this way, I will become a trauma victim. If I continue like this,

I will be disqualified as a human being. I need a resolution right now!

Resolutions, however—such as "Today is the day I go outside and

make myself find a part-time job!"—just faded away like mist, in fewer

than ten minutes.

Why? Why is this?

Probably my ridiculously long life as a hikikomori had rotted away

the very roots of my spirit.

I cant go on like tins. I must do something quickly.

At that point, I decided that in order to force my thoroughly

weakened spirit to recover, I would try taking some of the White Drug I

ordered online.

Even though its called White Drug, its not a major stimulant or

anything. Its a perfectly legal, relatively powerful hallucinogen.

However, although legal, its said to have nearly the same effect as LSD.

It acts directly on the serotonin receptors in the brain and reputedly

causes unbelievably intense visions.

Exactly. To escape my gloomy situation, I had no choice but to rely

on pharmaceutical power. Id been pushed to the extreme of trying to

stimulate my own worn-out brain with violently strong hallucinogens.

It’s just as the famous Tatsuhiko Shibusawa6

 said: "The

enlightenment you receive through religious training and the

enlightenment you receive from drugs are, in the end, one and the same."

Or something like that.

If thats the case, then let me be enlightened through drugs. 

Welcome to the N.H.K.

14

I will gain enlightenment and escape my hikikomori self I will shatter my

feeble spirit and replace it with a strong st.u.r.dy courage. I will place just a small

amount of the White Drug on top of my kotatsu and, in one breath, I will snort

it up my nose!

Part Two

Oh, how wonderful, how pleasant!

In my tiny, grimy, six-mat, one-room apartment, with a kitchen sink

filled with dirty dishes and a floor littered with cast-off clothing, I

actually experienced a trip!

The walls wobble and squirm while the air conditioner breathes deeply.

Mr. Stereo Speaker is talking.

Oh! Everything is alive. We are all one world.

Mr. Refrigerator, good evening.

Mr. Kotatsu, thank you for warming me.

Mr. Bed, youre the most comfortable bed ever.

Mr. TV, Mr. Computer, and everyone else Ive met up to this point, thank

you all.

"Mr. Satou, break out of your hikikomori life soon!"

Oh, everyone, youre all supporting me? Thank you, thank you. Nothing

could make me happier. Now, Ill be fine. With everyones warm support, I can

escape from my life as a hikikomori.

Please watch. Look, right now, I am about to go outside. Its three oclock in

the morning, but that does not concern me. Im about to escape from this room 

Birth of a Soldier

15

into the vast world.

However, because its cold, I must dress properly. Here we go. Put on my

clothes, hat, and jacket. There, all ready.

Okay, Im going outside. Time for me to say goodbye to all that hikikomori

stuff. See you.

Goodbye.

For some reason, the door to my apartment didnt open. Why? Why

wouldnt the door open?

Anxiety consumed me. Someone was trying to interfere with my

escape.

"Thats right. Mr. Satou, if you leave, you wont be a hikikomori any

longer," my speakers informed me.

So?

"Someone is getting in your way."

The complete shock I received from that one phrase, transmitted by

my speakers, was absolutely indescribable.

Interference.

Now that they mentioned it, I was reminded of the time when I first

started my life as a hikikomori.

It had been a painfully hot summer day.

I stomped along, trudging up the slope to my school. Sweat dripped

constantly and uncomfortably down the nape of my neck.

There were very few people on the road—maybe a couple of

housewives heading home from shopping and some young people

heading for the same school I was. I pa.s.sed very few, though.

However, my journey to school that day was decidedly different

than it had been every other day. Everyone I pa.s.sed looked at me. And I 

Welcome to the N.H.K.

16

was absolutely positive that though it was very, very quiet—almost so

quiet as to escape my hearing—each one of them let out something akin

to a giggle. Of this, I was certain.

Its true.

Im positive.

They each saw me and then began to ridicule me! The housewives

and then the students, they all noticed me and laughed.

I was astonished. Why? Why should they laugh at me?

"Hey, look at that guy. Theres something wrong with him, huh?"

"Ew, how awful. I wish he wouldnt leave his house."

"Ha ha ha. He looks like such an idiot."

It couldnt be. . . probably wasnt. . . might not have been. . . just a

persecution complex on my part.

Listening carefully, I was sure I had heard them, their voices

mocking me.

Ever since then. . .

Ever since then, I have been afraid of going outside. . .

The speakers crackled. "Thats right. Those people who laughed at

you were interference operatives. Its definitely not just a persecution

complex, Mr. Satou. They used your easily hurt, naive soul against you,

setting you up to become a hikikomori."

Ah! Thats what happened! At that moment, the deep darkness that

had covered my spirit for such a long time finally was driven away.

In short, up to this point, someone had been psychologically

manipulating me. Thinking about things that way, everything now made

perfect sense! Who could have done such a thing? Why?

I had no idea. No idea at all. 

Birth of a Soldier

17

Just then, my television suddenly whispered, "The N.H.K. is

operated with the help of subscribers like you." Those words, usually

barely noticeable, began to agitate me for some reason. N.H.K. . . I felt

that, within those three letters of the alphabet, some kind of grave secret

might be hiding.

This absolutely was not some simple delusion of grandeur or

ridiculous nonsense. Even though I was currently right in mid-trip on a

powerful hallucinogen, it didnt mean that I had lost my ability to make a

sober judgment. In fact, my brain was working far better than it had in

the previous twenty-two years of my entire life.

One plus one equals two. Two plus two equals four. Look, my logical

thought processes work perfectly!

Thats why I need to think. Right now, I need to think!

N.H.K. In those three letters hides a tremendous secret having to do with

me.

For all intents and purposes, it was nothing more than a simple

hunch, but I could no longer have any doubt about its accuracy. We

might as well call the idea a divine revelation. It wouldnt even be an

exaggeration to call this enlightenment.

However, hm. . . My prior familiarity with N.H.K. came to mind.

Thinking about it, I remembered that when I was little, I had liked

N.H.K. In elementary school, I saw Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water.

7

 It

was such an interesting anime.

Huh. Anime. . .

Mentioning anime brings up images of otaku.

8

 When it comes to

otaku, they tend to be poor at human contact. People who are poor at

human contact tend to become hikikomori. 

Welcome to the N.H.K.

18

Really?

I see! At this point, the direct connection between N.H.K. and

hikikomori finally should be obvious to everyone. In short, by

broadcasting such interesting anime, N.H.K. ma.s.s-produced anime

otaku, thereby essentially creating hikikomori on a large scale. Dammit!

What a dirty thing to do!

However, now I had stumbled upon their conspiracy. Having come

this far, I was only a step away from the perfect solution to the mystery.

Resting my head on the kotatsu, I devoted myself to thought.

Thanks to the drugs, my field of vision was spinning. All the

furniture in my room cheered for me in unison.

Right! With the help of my furniture friends, no one could stop me.

It wasnt as though the cowardly interference operatives would pursue

me forever and ever. This is the time to counterattack. Ill make you all regret

having mocked me.

Only one more step. . .

Im this close to solving all these mysteries. TV, kotatsu, computer, please

lend me your strength!

And then, at that moment, I had a divine revelation. Specifically, it

was sent directly to my brain in the form of a proverb: "The name says it

all."9

Basically, the very name N.H.K. should reveal the reality of the

organization. N.H.K. stands for "Nippon Housou Kyoukai,"10 but that

couldnt be all it meant. Another meaning, a secret double-meaning, had

to exist.

N.H.K., N.H.K., N.H.K. . . . I kept mumbling these three letters to

myself, over and over again. 

Birth of a Soldier

19

N stands for Nippon. If thats so, then H must be. . .

I understood! It was all so simple! The mystery was finally solved. I

had discovered the truth behind everything. H stood for Hikikomori! In

other words, N.H.K. represented "Nippon Hikikomori Kyoukai"!11

My battle began that day.

While I was tripping on hallucinogens, I failed to realize that the

reason my apartment door wouldnt open was due to nothing more than

the fact that I had locked it. That was just the tiniest of issues at hand,

though.

No matter what, I have to fight it out. Until the day I have defeated the

N.H.K., I must fight it out bravely. I absolutely will not lose.

Though sometimes, I do want to die. . . 






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