Life is war. Competition is hatred. Rage is disdain.

Rage is the only thing Kusuke can feel, as of late.

A quick glance at himself is enough to make Kusuke wonder where he went. Like pieces of himself scattered throughout, and he was dropping small shards as he walked the walk of shame through life. In retrospect, his old self was much more productive. More…… him. But who even was he?

All he’s known for is his profession and total as “Dr.” But that doesn’t matter if your own name feels unfamiliar, does it? All the masques he wears are painted with malice as if a desperado for praise he never gets.

He then snapped out of his trance, realising where he stood. In the middle of a crowded train station, looking like a ghost standing there as still as a beam.

Kusuke found himself staring longingly at the tracks.