Chapter 1: Death Is Only the Beginning
Have you ever thought about your future? Becoming successful, having a great job, being famous, wealthy, and having a happy family? Everyone dreams of a bright future like that. But I never imagined mine would turn out that way. Whenever I close my eyes, all I see is darkness and emptiness.
My name is Takahiro Nao. I'm a 25-year-old man with black hair, dark eyes, fair skin, and a decently handsome face. People say I often have a cold expression, but I do have a warm side—especially for those I care about.
After graduating from university, I started working as a sales marketer at a private company in Japan. The job has long hours, but the pay isn't great. It's hardly enough to support four people. That's right, I'm supporting three others: my mother and my two older siblings.
Why do I work so hard for my family? I should only be responsible for myself, just like other people my age. But I'm the only one who can keep my family going. My mother, Takahiro Ayase, is a retired government employee whose pension is consumed by debt. My older sister, Takahiro Nana, has been traumatized for years, making it impossible for her to work. My older brother, Takahiro Naki, is a hikikomori—lazy, unmotivated, and incapable of earning money.
If you're wondering about my father, he divorced my mother when I was in college. In fact, they had been separated long before that, since I was in elementary school.
The reason? He had secretly started a new family with another woman. My childhood was far from pleasant. My mother struggled to raise her three children on her own, even going into debt, yet she still managed to smile for us.
Being the only child who could work and earn money, I decided to give it my all and work tirelessly to support my family. My only goal was money, money, and more money. In this world, happiness and security can only be achieved with wealth. That's why I took on any side job I could find—working freelance at night or as a convenience store cashier on weekends.
Day after day, I worked as hard as I could, yet I still didn't have enough money to support my family. Even my mother's debt kept growing, thanks to those scummy bankers. After a long night of work, I'd lie in bed, lift my right hand towards the ceiling, and open my palm, thinking:
"If things keep going like this, what will become of my future? Can I keep going?"
Just then, I heard a knock on my door.
"Dear, you must be exhausted. I made some noodle soup. Come and eat," my mother said softly, concern lacing her voice.