get for this makes me want to die.” “Nothin’ to worry about. You’ve got no “life” to lose in the first place, right? You’re already living like you’re dead. Nothing to live for, no goals, no fun...” “And that’s why I just want it to be over! ...I should’ve just followed after you, Shindo. I could’ve killed myself easy, after the death of my best friend.” “Stop it, you’re grossing me out. You make it sound like a lovers’ suicide.” “Guess it is.” Our laughter filled the silent arcade. We put coins into a beaten-up old cabinet and went head-to-head in an ancient game. He won, 3 to 2. Considering our relative skill levels, I think I put up a good fight. Whatever you had him do, Shindo was always better than average. He was quick to grasp just about everything. But on the other hand, up to the last, he was never the best in anything. I think maybe he was scared. Deathly afraid of a moment when he’d devote himself to something, then blank out and think “What was I doing?” So he could never give all of himself to just one thing. I wished I could be like that. And that must be why Shindo always liked things which were clearly pointless. Games from generations past, useless music, his unreasonably huge vacuum tube radio. I loved that sense of unproductiveness. Shindo sat up from the stool and brought two canned coffees from the single working vending machine. As he handed me one, he said, “Hey, Mizuho, I wanna ask something.” “What?” “Was that accident really something that was totally avoidable?” I didn’t understand his question. “What do you mean?” “What I mean is, well... Maybe you called this tragic situation you’re in upon yourself, somehow.” “Hey, now, you trying to say I had that accident on purpose?”