Chapter Thirteen: The Utopian Realm

Night had already fallen, and the streets had grown sparse, only a handful of people lingering here and there. A tall woman hurried along the road, while above nearly every street, holographic screens were broadcasting voices and sounds.

Her glasses gave her an intelligent, composed air. Beneath her fitted trench coat was a white shirt, and a shoulder bag hung at her side. Her high heels clicked softly against the silent pavement. Her face held no expression at all, and every now and then she would lift a hand to glance at the watch on her wrist.

Her name was Eriko, and she was an ordinary office worker.

At last, amid the sound of her quick footsteps, Eriko entered a building.

She passed through a corridor, took the elevator up, and after finally finding the right place, pushed the door open. Inside was a very spacious room, arranged with tables and chairs, looking much like a university lecture hall.

Too nervous to speak, Eriko slipped in through the back entrance, turned slightly to one side, and carefully sat down in a seat near the rear.

Only after setting down her shoulder bag did she draw a breath. She looked up at the person on the podium, pressing a hand lightly to her chest in tension. Her gaze then drifted toward the man beside her.

He wore a black trench coat. Seen in profile, his features were sharply defined, and his keen eyes were fixed on the podium, his brows faintly furrowed as though lost in thought. His black hair was a little long, falling over his shoulders; he looked more like a rock musician, his whole style carrying a certain chill.

Her gaze lingered only briefly before returning to the podium, where a middle-aged man was explaining some concept.

He was the most celebrated psychotherapist of recent times, and with the explosive growth of the mental counseling industry, he had only lately become a lecturer in psychological training.

His name was Tetsuya Fune. He had brought the idea of a utopia into prominence in the field of psychology, and had also created his own theory of the Ark, securing his footing in the discipline.

The first time Eriko learned of the theories Tetsuya Fune promoted, she was utterly conquered by them.

That perfect society hidden in the consciousness of humankind, that wholly ideal world, like the legendary Peach Blossom Spring of ancient China -- did such a place truly exist? And if it did, was it possible for humanity to reach it?

This world was far too oppressive. Surveillance was everywhere; the sky was filled with cacophonous holographic displays; and once night fell, the streets seemed like a ghostly realm where no one walked. There was no crime, and the only threat was the aliens and monsters that might one day cause devastation on Earth.

And yet this world... was still completely unlike the world Eriko longed for. The whole world seemed shrouded in gray mist. Unlike the praise people showered online upon the zero-crime rate, Eriko felt that something was wrong.

She even felt that she could no longer express her emotions with any fluency. Every day she wore the same expressionless face, meeting strangers, friends, even family with it.

Because... everyone else seemed to be that way too.

Human beings are herd animals. If everyone is performing the same action, you cannot help but begin to do it as well. If everyone repeats the same habit, such as washing their hands after a meal, then even if you choose to be different, even without anyone else’s reminder or odd looks, you yourself will begin to feel strange and uneasy, and before you know it, you too will start repeating that habit.

And yet, that is a good habit.

But if... such repetition were a bad habit,

then... the whole world could be turned upside down.

Just like the world now, where people wore blank faces and hid themselves in thick shells, their emotionless expressions showing no sign of feeling at all.

Then, if you were among them, you would inevitably be drawn along and become the same. In a vat of dye, no one can remain untouched.

Because... if you were like that... you would look like a mindless zombie.

For that very reason, because she did not want to appear like a mindless zombie, Eriko too began to grow like everyone else around her.

And yet... as time passed, Eriko fearfully discovered that she had even forgotten how to smile. How to release the expressions in her heart in a normal way.

Worse still, recently Eriko had begun to realize with horror that she was growing numb.

That night, through the omnipresent cameras, the destruction wrought by the giant alien was broadcast everywhere. Eriko sat alone in the darkness, watching the calamity unfold, but there was not the slightest stir in her heart.

No pity, no concern, no anger -- no emotional response of any kind.

It was as though... she were watching someone crush the ants around his feet: complete indifference, complete detachment.

But the problem was... she was one of those ants too.

Humanity and feeling seemed to be gradually leaking away from Eriko’s heart.

Without emotion, Eriko had nothing to lean on. She could only feel emptiness. The only thing she could do was pour all her energy into work and begin working frantically.

Yet whenever she returned home late at night, Eriko still felt unbearable loneliness. It was as if she lived inside a prison built of steel and concrete; this place was merely her nest, and once she stepped outside she had to put on her shackles. All humans wore shackles, faces cold and expressionless, speaking scarcely at all.

Eriko felt... as though she herself were becoming a machine made for work.

Thus, she longed desperately to find it -- to find the fabled utopia, the Peach Blossom Spring in her heart.

"Does utopia truly exist?" Tetsuya Fune said from the podium.

"I believe there is such a place. Of course, many will argue with me, saying that a world entirely equal, beautiful, and free of oppression cannot possibly exist."

"As for that, I make no judgment. In truth, it is an unprovable proposition, for no one can prove that utopia truly exists, and no one can prove that it does not."

"But here, I want to propose an entirely different speculation!"

He adjusted his glasses and let the corner of his mouth lift slightly.

"Is the world we live in truly the real world?"

"I do not wish to prescribe a so-called medicine for your inner happiness, nor do I wish, like others, to offer you a standardized form of happiness."

"I know that all of you once believed this world could bring you happiness, and that even if there were only the slightest glimmer of hope beside you, you would strive with all your might for it!"

"But... the harder you work, the more keenly you can feel how frail you are, until you cannot even feel your own existence."

"You need to ask yourselves: does this cold life, this meaningless work, truly mean anything? Does this world still need us to remain in it? Does this world still possess even the slightest value?"

"You need to ask yourselves... is the one who exists here truly yourself?"

"I cannot answer that question for you, and no one else can. The only one who can give you the answer is you yourselves."

"Those who have come here, I believe, already understand my Ark theory! I am only conveying the message carried by the ship, delivering it to those who truly need it!"

"Go back. Return to the homeland you have never yet seen..."

"Return to... our own utopia, where the one waiting will be your true self!"