Central Plaza

When I got to the plaza, the general instructions had already ended. The groups of people separated into three distinct sections and lined up. The left age 17-18, center 19-25, right 25-30. I went left and tried to search for Shinjiro, but ultimately failed. Everyone around me muttered in an incomprehensible dull, monotone. It was a feeling of awareness, yet also absent from others. Alone, I stood there waiting.

Milliseconds turned into seconds, minutes, half hours, and hours. People came and went. The sun shone above the cowering clouds, and hid the shadows. As a chick would stare longingly upwards, waiting for some relief from its hunger– crying out for attention–, so the crowd gawked upwards expectantly. I waited patiently at first, but it slowly made me weary. After another half hour, I finally reached the reception desk.

“Fill out this form and hand it to me when you’re done,”called out the clerk in an impartial tone. His eyes were blank; like an endless chasm, the dark dot on each eye absorbed all light and reflected none back. He was tired of this job and this world. His face was etched in granite, yet granite is also fragile–breaking with the faintest touch.

I pulled out a pen from my sack and started to fill in the required information. I was still in the dark about the current situation, but it was the best choice to do the application anyways. With that, I turned in my paperwork to the man. He briefly glanced over it, and handed me a small slip of paper. “ Come in two days, same time and location.”

School was canceled, work stopped, due to the mass recruitment of the population across the nation. The plan was later briefed to the general public that were not there at the meetings. It runs as follows: With the recent and unexpected death of the Prime Minister, the government has decided to take drastic measures to prevent another occurrence of this situation. The whole population within the age 17\-30 will be searched to find a more than adequate leader.

Surprised by the sudden and unprecedented decision, I wondered how they would be able to find the most suitable candidate–an aptitude test or perhaps an IQ mind puzzle? The task seemed impossible; this world with infinite possibilities, how can one test for them all.

That night, I was agitated by strange speculations about the selection process. Why the specific age group of 17\-30 and by what means will they do it? My dreams were haunted by visions of baffling scenes like a hysterical play written with unending mad tales, only to be awoken by the piercing shriek of an alarm.

The day was dreadful, long, and tiring. Every moment dragged on for days, but also disappeared within the blink of an eye. That feeling of anxiety and immersion in relentless apprehension made time go by unexpectedly fast. The bells rang and the hallways clattered with stomping of shoes. It was already lunch time, the cafeteria was a mass of students, congested like a busy traffic route.

The sun shone at its highest peak, peering down and over the clouds, illuminating every surface. The light seemed to provide no warmth and comfort while the frigid wind chilled my reddened ears and cheeks. I stood by the wall length windows, slightly open at one end. It all seemed so distant now–the people, the world, the sun. The World was bothersome; its matters troubling and strenuous. Politics was a trifling matter. In the end, it all reduces to false promises and Ministers shouting at each other’s face.

After school, I slowly walked home. My trip was usually brisk; however, today there was no reason to return quickly. The house was empty and quiet. My meals were meager and sufficient: a bowl of ramen noodles and soup. Then I retired to my bedroom and read books under the warm glow of a desk lamp. Slowly my eyelids began to flutter and all became dark.

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