I created a foundation

The streets of Tokyo are as bustling as ever, with heavy traffic and flashing neon lights, casting a hazy glow over the entire night sky.

On the huge billboard, the popular idol’s smiling face is dazzlingly bright.

In the distance, the drunken noise of the izakaya could be heard, mixed with the low laughter of couples.

This world is still the cold and indifferent world she is familiar with.

It is prosperous, lively and full of vitality.

But it doesn't fit in with her.

Xiangzi was walking home with the cardboard box in his arms.

Her steps seemed a little slower than usual.

She did not go to see the lively scenes, nor did she listen to the noisy sounds.

All her attention seemed to be focused on the small paper box in her arms.

The faint but continuous vibration in the cardboard box was clearly transmitted through her fingertips.

Half of the streetlight downstairs in the apartment building was broken, flickering on and off, lengthening and shortening the shadows of the returning family members, like a bad pantomime.

Shoko Toyokawa held a small paper box in her arms and walked in this area of ​​alternating light and dark.

Her steps were very slow, much slower than when she usually walked home from get off work.

The cardboard box was so light that it was almost weightless, but Xiangzi held it tightly to his chest with an almost pious attitude, as if it contained some fragile and rare treasure.

It was only a short 20-minute walk from the pet store to the old neighborhood where she lived, but today, the journey seemed particularly long.

She passed a bustling intersection. On a giant electronic billboard, the smiling faces of a popular idol group seemed unreal. They wore glittering costumes and sang songs about dreams and hope on a meticulously designed stage.

Xiangzi's eyes swept across the huge poster without stopping, and there was no trace of emotion in his eyes.

Once upon a time, that kind of stage was where she thought she would stand.

Now, it all seems like an old dream from the last century, distant, vague, and even with a hint of self-deprecating absurdity.

She avoided the hustle and bustle and turned into a relatively quiet alley. There was a small music store in the alley. In the window, a blue bass guitar glowed quietly under the dim light.

She had stopped in front of this window countless times.

Now, she just quickened her pace, as if the blue would burn her eyes.

The bustle and bustle of the world were isolated from her. Her entire world seemed to have shrunk into the small cardboard box in her arms.

She could feel the little life inside occasionally stirring restlessly, making an extremely subtle, almost inaudible rustling sound. Each slight vibration passed through the barrier of the cardboard box and was clearly transmitted to her palm, then spread along the nerve endings in her arm to the position of her heart.

It was a faint, yet incredibly real...connection.

It was something she had been trying to avoid all along.

Finally, the familiar tenement building with its mottled exterior appeared at the end of the field of vision.

Xiangzi stopped downstairs and looked up at his unlit window on the third floor.

The window, like a silent and empty eye, stared at her quietly in the night.

She took a deep breath, the cold night air filling her lungs, carrying a hint of dust and moisture. Then, she took a step forward and walked into the deeper and darker darkness.

The voice-activated lights in the hallway were so old and dilapidated that they were always slow to respond. Xiangzi had to stamp his feet harder than usual to wake up the dim tungsten filament bulb above his head.

The lights flickered on, illuminating the stained concrete steps and the long-faded debt collection graffiti written in marker on the wall.

Every step feels like a path to some kind of execution ground.

third floor.

Xiangzi stood in front of the familiar iron door with peeling paint.

She fished the key out of her pocket, the touch of the cold metal making her fingertips flinch slightly.

She did not insert the key into the lock immediately, but stood at the door for a long time holding the cardboard box.

She is listening.

Listen to the movement inside.

There was no sound of television, no sound of music, and no sound of any talking.

There was only dead silence.

This dead silence made her feel more palpitating than any noisy sound.

Finally, she turned the key.

"Click."

With a slight sound, the door lock was opened.

As the iron door was slowly pushed open, a smell so strong that it was almost suffocating rushed out from the gap in the door.

It was a mixture of cheap alcohol, rotten food, and some indescribable smell of despair and decay.

Xiangzi's breathing stopped the moment he smelled the scent.

The cardboard box in her arms was slightly deformed by the pressure she subconsciously squeezed. The tiny life inside seemed to feel the sudden pressure and moved uneasily.

Xiangzi immediately loosened his grip, but his body remained frozen at the door, not taking another step forward.

There were no lights on in the room.

The only source of light was the night light coming in from the window, which was dyed a muddy orange by the city's neon lights.

The faint light barely outlined the interior.

The outline of a hell.

Countless empty bottles of beer, sake, and even cheaper soju in plastic bottles were scattered across the floor, scattered across the living room like the bodies of fallen soldiers after a battle.

In between these "corpses" were leftover convenience store lunch boxes, crumpled paper towels, and some sticky stains that she couldn't recognize.

And in the middle of this mess, a man was lying there lifeless.

He was wearing an expensive suit that should have been neatly tailored, but now it was wrinkled and stained with unknown wine and oil stains, like a rag that had been carelessly discarded.

The man let out a heavy and rough snoring sound, and each breath was filled with the strong smell of alcohol, echoing in the small space.

Xiangzi looked at the man quietly.

That's her father.

He was once the most famous celebrity agent in the industry, and he single-handedly brought countless unknown newcomers to the pinnacle of stardom.

He was once the omnipotent and most proud hero in her eyes.

And now.

He is just an alcoholic who was completely defeated by reality and spends all day with alcohol.

A living, breathing giant piece of garbage occupying this "home".

At that moment, Xiangzi felt like he was thrown into the deep sea.

Cold, suffocating despair enveloped her from all sides, squeezing her lungs, her heart, and every bone in her body.

In the small paper box in my arms, the tiny bit of warmth that rose up because of a fresh little life was completely extinguished at this moment by the boundless coldness.

Not even a trace of smoke was left.

She looked at everything in front of her numbly, with no expression on her face.

No anger, no sadness, not even disgust.

All that was left was a huge fatigue that had already penetrated deep into the bones.

Because this is her daily life.

This is the so-called "home" that she has to return to face every day after get off work.

The strongest, most inescapable...cage.

Slowly and extremely carefully, she turned sideways as if crossing a dangerous minefield, avoiding all obstacles on the ground.

She gently placed the cardboard box in her arms on the only relatively clean shoe cabinet at the entrance.

Then, she began to pick up the mess on the ground with a mechanical and emotionless movement.

She bent down and picked up the empty bottles one by one, sorting them into garbage bags. The sound of the glass bottles colliding was crisp and hollow.

Her movements were very skillful, as if she had repeated them thousands of times.

During this process, she never looked at the man lying on the ground.

As if he was really just a lifeless obstacle that didn't need to be taken seriously.

After she threw the last bottle into the trash bag, she stood up and her eyes inadvertently swept across a dusty cabinet in the corner.

On the cabinet, there was a photo frame lying upside down.

She knew what was in that frame.

It was a photo of her, her mother, and her father, who was still full of vigor and vitality at that time, in front of the Vienna Golden Hall. Everyone in the photo was smiling so brightly.

Her eyes stayed on the photo frame for less than a second before quickly looking away.

She picked up the garbage bag filled with empty bottles, walked to the door, opened it, and placed it outside in the hallway.

After doing all this, she closed the door again, completely isolating herself from the normal world outside.

The room once again returned to the suffocating silence, with only her father's heavy snoring remaining, still stubbornly proving that she was not the only living being in this space.

Xiangzi leaned against the cold iron gate and slowly slid down to the ground.

She hugged her knees and buried her face in them.

Another slight, almost imperceptible sound came from the small cardboard box on the shoe cabinet.

She didn't look up.

She just hugged herself a little tighter.

After an unknown amount of time, the man on the ground seemed to have changed into an uncomfortable position, turned over, and mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.

"...money...give me the money..."

The voice was hoarse and unfamiliar.