When I ceased to imagine further scenarios, I started to pull things together a little, just enough to start looking for facts. I’d have gone insane. I checked the news, went over online archives. I couldn't do anything, but I had to know. They’d determined conclusively it was a suicide, and not murder. Knowing that she could have actually killed herself when she was a force of nature, full of so much energy... knowing this made it feel even worse, even more unacceptable. Whatever I’d gained faded off into the distance. My crippling depression lasted until I was nearly out of food.

I came out of the paralysis, my hands clenched, tears dripping down my cheeks. It still hurt, but my mind cleared. Hunger was a strong motivator. It kept me alive so far. It reminded me of my situation. My stomach nagged at me mercilessly. My scrambled brain gradually defragmented. I distanced myself from the past. My eyes, which were dull and lifeless, cast around me while color returned to them.

I wasn’t sure what I would eat, but as I sighed, an urge to relieve myself started to build up, adding yet another reason to force myself into motion to the ever-growing pile of reasons. The chief of these was wetting the futon again would burden me. Lying in a soiled futon, I could not abide, even in this condition.

I shambled forward, forcing my legs to work. Then I broke into a dead run to my bathroom. As I scurried, the urge to relieve myself only grew. I thought I might soak my shorts on the way, at least.

When I entered my washroom, I darted to the toilet and put it to extensive use. I did what was natural, catching my reflection in the mirror.

My redlined, bloodshot and sunken eyes would just worsen the impression everyone had of me. Should someone witness me in this condition, I was sure I’d face far more suspicious or fear-laden stares or open verbal accusations. The voices of such accusers filled my mind. I’d heard them for most of my life, so the accuracy was remarkable.

YAKUZA!

THUG!

I knew if I went to work looking so unkempt, they’d accuse me of binge drinking the previous night. I wouldn’t do it, even though I’d broken. They’d still accuse me of it, probably. They didn’t know me. My ideas could be amazing, but my face was not one who could star in a commercial as anything but a cheesy villain or a gangster.

Silent or sometimes loud suffering was the only way I could overcome it somewhat.

I idly wondered if I could find a spare paper bag. With one, I could wear it over my head all the time, thus making it into a silly personal fashion-statement, not that I cared about being trendy or starting them. Doing so would neatly resolve the problem of my appearance, but it would be unprofessional and strange.

I left my boxers on the floor, stepping out of them as I moved to the sink to run the water. I’d ceased to take care of myself as my mother taught me to do. Today I needed to make up for all the lost time. I brushed my teeth vigorously, ignoring my tangled greasy hair for the moment. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and scoffed.

Afterwards, I started to brush my teeth. Ugly, insufficient. I spat into the sink.

I ran my fingers through my dull black shaggy hair. I probably needed a haircut, but there was no time. If I’d been able to grow a beard, even a scraggly one, I’d have looked even more terrifying. Visions of crazy bearded men with mean eyes or even just five o’clock shadows, flitted through my mind.

I wished I didn’t reject Reiko-chan’s makeup-powered efforts. I could have been a half-way normal looking man if I’d learned more about it. I wondered if maybe I didn’t argue so much with her about wearing it, she’d perhaps have chosen me, instead of him.

I walked to the shower to start the water running into my cramped shower to immediately hop in. I grew up taking baths left behind by my parents, but as soon as I got my own apartment, I’d started taking these showers. The water heater was very efficient. I only needed to bear the chill of the water for a moment before it became wonderfully warm. I’d not bathed in a week.

I cried a bit as I scrubbed, again. You were such a strong and wonderful girl, Reiko-chan!

The running water across my face was hiding the tears leaking down my cheeks. I still was compelled by necessity to go to work.