Rules Were Made to be Broken

‣ scene 01 [unhappy refrain]

Kiyotaka Ishimaru should have been happy.

He had always been at the top of his class in high school, and he'd graduated with honors from a prestigious college. He worked at a high-paying tech firm and was up for a major promotion, and his job came with benefits to die for. He had a spacious apartment and a gym membership and a pretty nice car. In terms of a checklist, Kiyotaka had just about everything that a person could want.

Why, then, was he so miserable?

Every morning he woke with a feeling of dread in his stomach. On his commute to work, he'd grind his teeth and secretly hope that the building would explode or something. Anything to keep him from having to go back there. The job was stressful and thankless, and he had no interest in tech work anyway. He was good at it, sure, but that wasn't the same thing.

His parents would call him just about every evening, as soon as his work shift should have ended, and grill him about what he'd done that day. Had he impressed his boss? Had he gone above and beyond to fulfill the company's needs? His mother and father had drilled the importance of good grades and a solid résumé into his head since he was old enough to read.

On four afternoons out of the week, Kiyotaka went to the gym right after work. At night, he found himself too tired to do anything for himself. He'd sit down on his sofa and watch the news, and he often fell asleep there rather than in his bed. Then he'd wake up early in the morning to start the cycle all over again.

He hated his routine, and he hated his job, and he hated his boss. He'd hate his parents if he could, too, and he did openly detest the people they made him meet with so often. Kiyotaka's father, Takaaki, wanted to start the family's tech business back up again. The one that Takaaki's father had bankrupted. And since Takaaki had never been as brilliant as his son, he forced the weight of the family's goals onto his shoulders.

Kiyotaka should have been happy, but he was exactly the opposite.

This particular morning was no exception. He woke with a headache and took a quick cold shower before making himself a breakfast of egg whites and turkey bacon with a glass of orange juice. He read the paper as he ate and dreamed of the job he'd have if he had any say in the matter, or the pet he might adopt if he had the free time to care for it. He got dressed in his stiff work attire and his stupid bland tie and packed his briefcase and duffel bag, and then the commute to work began again.

Traffic was slow, constantly lulling and coming to a stop only to pick up moments later. Even so, Kiyotaka was on time, and for an Ishimaru, "on time" meant ten minutes early.

He breezed through his work, barely eating anything for his lunch break, and answered stupid corporate emails and participated in stupid office gossip. He always had to sit through the same conversation with at least three different groups of people. He'd constructed an entire false personality to deal with the mundanity of it.

Finally, his work shift ended. Next was the gym. He changed into the workout clothes he'd brought with him in his bag, and then he worked himself to the point of exhaustion on the various machines. He cooled down and changed clothes once more, into something more casual.

Normally he would head home right away, but on this particular night, he just wanted a steaming bowl of udon.

He had to have it.

So instead, he made his way for the nearest restaurant that was sure to serve noodles.