He had grown tired of a word of plasticity and void meaning. He had grown tired of being alone; knowing that there would be no one to understand this drowning sense of longing. He wanted to leave, but, no one was allowed to leave. Not without clearance and a good reason, anyways. It wasn't as if you could approach a drone and explain you hated the world you lived in and that you needed to leave ASAP to actually find something worth living for. But people were beyond his sense of righteousness at this point. Righteousness did not exist. Purity in the world was disposed of as quickly as it came and perhaps a part of him had come to accept that. It was strange that anyone could accept such a world. A world in which they suffered and found little devices to pleasure themselves with. It was, as they said: life. One must learn to deal with its horrendous name however reluctant one may be. Yet, he hated that. Anyone would hate that, except that anyone wouldn't because they were fine living like animals in a plastic bubble. He could hardly stand to be blindfolded and shepherded into the darkness of ignorance. He couldn't live that way. Perhaps a part of the man thought people shouldn't live that way. Perhaps that hatred of society and all it stood for was merely his nonsensical and inordinate wishing for a better world. Except, it would never happen. The world did not change overnight and the System had stood long enough to be deeply rooted within the fiber of each man. The System controlled them, and they were fine with that. They had controlled him, and he had also been fine with that-except he wasn't-not now, anyways. To think: it had taken the murder of a close colleague and a shot of unhealthy stress to bring him to these conclusions. A part of him did know the seeds of infidelity and solitude had always been within him. They were in, sadly enough, only in select people and he had been chosen. Not specifically, anyways, he had been chosen because he had decided to think. Thinking was a sin-stressing over the meaning of society and life was also a sin. It always was, and it always will be. There were no great philosophers to teach him their methods and knowledge of such books was heavily restricted. Reading and learning were quite difficult in this era. You learned what they told you.
And he was sick of it.
"Damn..." a soft breath of smoke was blown and he shifted the cigarette to the corner of his mouth. "You're making it worse," the man breathed in. Breathed out. Breathed in. Breathed out smoke. Repeating the process after a few times. The stench of it all didn't bother him. Perhaps it had done so in the beginning but now, oh now, he found it comforting. "Keep thinking like this and they'll shut you back in the facility," he spoke to himself. The man was leaning against a wall; it was cold, but the warmth of his jacket was finely suited in warming him. As dirty and worn it could get at times: it was reliable. Reliability in anything nowadays was a rarity. "Or worse," a wry smile passed his lips. "They'll kill you."
His gaze flickered towards the ocean and the fabricated illumination of the city. He was cold, yet he refused to move. He didn't want to move. He knew that if he did, he would have to return to the workplace-that he would have to go back inside and enforce something he did not believe in. That was Shinya's problem: pride and loneliness. Pride was the oddest for being a prideful man had never struck him before. Except it was true. Perhaps it had always been. Perhaps it was because he had adopted a pretentious sort of justice that couldn't quite be explained. The notion of it all was quite something a nostalgic fool would conjure within the darkness of their mind as they tried to push for a better reality-a reality more fitting. He was a romanticist; believing in things that were outdated and held no place within the world. Perhaps he was a man suited for a different time period, a different life where he needn't worry about such trivial matters about what he was allowed to know and what he was not.
Shinya blew out another breath of smoke. The city was beautiful and he, oh he, had decided to shut himself from it. The lives of the citizens within it held little value to him. He could dimly recall a promise, a promise of wanting to... to... oh damn, what was it? Help people, yes, that was it: help people. Yet, one could not save what refused to be saved. The raven-haired male had come to see the world in such a light. The abysmal hate, spite, and malice within his life were overwhelming. A part of him was sure that a man could not live this way. A part of him was sure that he was only hurting himself in the midst of this all. Yet, he didn't mind. Perhaps people would gaze upon him and think, thinking about what it was they lived and what they stood for. But that was wishing for too much. People were bred to think at one point, but now, it all fell null and void. Even as he claimed this hatred: he could only wonder how things would be if certain variables were not into place. The notion of it all was odd to him; foreign. Shinya could only think of a false justice; a corrupted justice. He could only but briefly imagine a world where things were not as tightly controlled as they were now.
"Wasn't that what she wanted..." he could only muse quietly to himself. "To choose? To live her own life?" he laughed. It was a dry, piercing laugh. A laugh of disbelief at such foolishness and naivete. So strange was the newest Inspector: so... stupid. It was a harsh word, he knew, but she was stupid. But if she was stupid, then so was he. They both craved something impossible though he was sure she hadn't realized it yet. Shinya could only think as he stared at the lights' reflection in the water. He thought of Shogo, Sasayama, Ginoza, Masaoka, and Akane. He thought of what they had done and how strange all of them were. Then his thoughts centered mainly around Shogo and Akane. His teeth grit slightly. Perhaps all three were terribly outdated people with terribly outdated ideals who could hardly stand to live in the world they did now. Except, they had accepted it only to hate it once again in silence.
But, what was the point in suffering in silence?
