The Midnight Train
At 2:24am, Misashi sat in the empty train station located in Ueno. A night of binge drinking alone in Shibuya nearly left him catatonic, but he managed to find the right direction for his departure home. However, his inebriated state ruined all sense of timing. Guilt, shame, and regret drenched his psyche. An elderly salary man who had ambitious dreams since he was younger, couldn’t recognize himself anymore. The drive and passion he harnessed so long ago had withered away from the constant societal pressure for conformity. Lost and forgotten, he sits and contemplates his life choices, until he hears a faint noise coming from afar.
The gentle low hum from a train seems to be approaching his platform. Yet, this particular one lacks the heavy vibrations a normal locomotive would possess. It approached smoothly with an ominous energy that couldn’t be described. Its overall appearance seemed ordinary, but its length only extended to 3 cars. This was possibly the shortest train he had ever seen, and the latest to ever arrive in any metro.
The doors opened and not a single soul poured out. This made the situation even more unsettling, as stagnation clung to the air. This train refused to depart. The doors remained opened. It didn’t feel as though it was an option to enter, but more so a demand. He stands, staggers, and stumbles his way inside.
There was little to no time for him to read any signs indicating where he would be going. A voice from the intercom captured his attention, “your next stop will be home”. Everything about the situation was wrong, but a sense of serenity washed over him when the train finally departed. The enveloping darkness from the tunnels could not prepare him from what would come next. He peered out the window after spotting a glimpse of natural light. It was a full moon illuminating a seamlessly vast ocean. Logically, none of this made sense, but he still accepted it out of genuine curiosity and intrigue.
The train stopped. The doors opened. Cautiously, Misashi steps out and sees something familiar only he would know. A childhood home where he spent most of his days inside rather than running about with the neighborhood kids. Each step he made towards the front door only made him sink deeper into a trance. His mind flooded with memories of his friends and family he wished to cherish more time with. His past lovers and enemies he wishes to reconcile to this very day. But nothing made his heart drop more than seeing the door open, and to be met by his younger self. A Boy, no older than 6 years old stood at the door. He held colored pencils in one hand, and a drawing that sparked his love for art, in the other. Misashi stood silent, peering down in the innocent yet joyful eyes of his younger self. He wondered, when did it all go wrong? Without hesitation, The Boy responded as if he could read his mind. Delivering a cold harsh truth.
“You gave up."
