Welcome to the NHK!

Part One

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

In my tiny six-mat[1], 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 Year's 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.

“Ah”, I moaned.

If I didn't 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… couldn't 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. That's me. A recluse.

They say that there are now approximately two million hikikomori living in Japan. Two million is a tremendous number. If someone threw a rock on the street, they would hit a hikikomori…. Of course, that wouldn't really happen. Hikikomori don't go outside, after all.

Anyway, I was one of the hikikomori currently so popular here in Japan. Not to mention that I was somewhat of a veteran hikikomori. I left my apartment only once a week, and then I'd 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 I'd 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 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 “Godhand”, supposedly holed up in the mountains during his youth in order to hone his spirit before going on to become the world's 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 hadn't been working properly of late. Could it be because I get sixteen hours of sleep per day? Or was it because I'd 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 didn't 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 return to human society! A rebound from dropping out! I'll 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 can't go on like this. 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 it's called White Drug, it's not a major stimulant or anything. It's a perfectly legal, relatively powerful hallucinogen. However, although legal, it's 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. I'd 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 Shibusawa[6] 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 that's the case, then let me be enlightened through drugs.

I will gain enlightenment and escape my hikikomori self. I will shatter my feeble spirit and replace it with a strong, sturdy 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, you're the most comfortable bed ever.

Mr. TV, Mr. Computer, and everyone else I've met up to this point, thank you all.

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

Oh, everyone, you're all supporting me? Thank you, thank you. Nothing could make me happier. Now, I'll be fine. With everyone's warm support, I can escape from my life as a hikikomori.

Please watch. Look, right now, I am about to go outside. It's three o'clock in the morning, but that does not concern me. I'm about to escape from this room into the vast world.

However, because it's cold, I must dress properly. Here we go. Put on my clothes, hat, and jacket. There, all ready.

Okay, I'm going outside. Time for me to say goodbye to all that hikikomori stuff. See you.

Goodbye.

For some reason, the door to my apartment didn't open. Why? Why wouldn't the door open?

Anxiety consumed me. Someone was trying to interfere with my escape.

“That's right. Mr. Satou, if you leave, you won't 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 passed very few, though.

However, my journey to school that day was decidedly different than it had been every other day. Everyone I passed looked at me. And I 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.

It's true.

I'm 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. There's something wrong with him, huh?”

“Ew, how awful. I wish he wouldn't leave his house.”

“Ha ha ha. He looks like such an idiot.”

It couldn't be … probably wasn't … 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. “That's right. Those people who laughed at you were interference operatives. It's 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! That's 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.

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 didn't 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!

That's 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 wouldn't 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.

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. mass-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 wasn't as though the cowardly interference operatives would pursue me forever and ever. This is the time to counterattack. I'll make you all regret having mocked me.

Only one more step…

I'm 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 couldn't 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.

N stands for Nippon. If that's 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 wouldn't 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…