A Scary Experience on the Last Train

I had been drinking after a tournament, and when I realized it, it was the last train.
Magazines and bags were scattered on the floor, and the only other passengers were a bespectacled salaryman reading a newspaper and myself.

Worried I might fall asleep, I was leaning against the door instead of sitting, so when it opened, I didn't notice and lost my balance.

I ended up appearing in the middle of the doorway just as two rowdy-looking guys were lining up on either side to board, like Sadako being launched from a TV with tremendous force.
If an exorcist had been there, they would have skipped checking if I was alive and reflexively struck me down.

I managed to brace myself and avoid falling, but I ended up in a pose like a rock singer who had just leaped onto the stage amidst a burst of smoke.
Furthermore, the strain caused some kind of damage from my throat to my nose, and a sound that could not possibly have come from a human was emitted.

It is very difficult to express, but if I had to write it out, it would be 'onbugubu'.
The 'on' of the prelude came from my throat, and the 'bugubu' of the postlude was played from the back of my nose.
Even the death cries in Fist of the North Star would feel beautiful compared to this.

Feeling sorry for the two who couldn't board, I tried to act calm and spoke to them,

“It’s a bit messy, but please come in.”

I said something like the master of a dwelling.
If this hadn't been the last train, they probably would have taken the next one.
If I were them, I wouldn't want to enter the well of a Sadako that travels at 70 km/h and stops dutifully at every station.
I could see the salaryman reading the newspaper in the opposite seat holding his paper higher than before, hiding his face and shaking his shoulders.

To ensure the Sadako cannon wouldn't fire again, I moved to the opposite door every time the sign indicated it would open.
However, come to think of it, the sight of me swaying and moving every time the train stopped must have been quite eerie.
Both the salaryman and the pair must have had their peace of mind disturbed every time I came to their side of the car, thinking, 'Ugh... they're back over here...'

In the midst of this, the two rowdy guys looked at me and let out a sound.
My nose had started bleeding.
It was likely due to the damage from the earlier 'onbugubu'.
I looked for something to wipe it with, but there was only an empty tissue box.
Feeling somewhat helpless, I looked toward the pair, but they also let out a mysterious sound, though not quite as intense as the earlier onbugubu, and turned their faces away.

When I turned toward the salaryman, his eyes, which had been peeking out from the side of the newspaper, met mine.
In an instant, the salaryman's newspaper tore with a sound that echoed through the car.

When eyes meet, some begin to suffer, and others have their powers run wild...

I had experienced the confusion and loneliness of a protagonist who had suddenly awakened to a special ability.
Why did it have to turn out like this?

The peak of the nosebleed had passed, but perhaps out of pity, one of the rowdy guys offered me a tissue.

I want to apologize to him for thinking he was a scary person just based on his appearance.
In fact, I would also like to apologize for the fact that, at this moment, I am the one who is scary in a different sense.

Like a powerless monster that had wandered into a human village and experienced human kindness for the first time,

“Thank you, truly thank you...”

I said, and stuffed the tissue into my nose.
The two rowdy-looking guys had faces that suggested they wanted to say something.
The salaryman was now hunched over and coughing, so I couldn't see his face.

When I arrived at the station and headed to the restroom to wash off the blood, I realized I had stuffed the tissue into the healthy nostril, not the one that was bleeding.

What must those two have felt, being forced to watch me stuff a tissue into my healthy nostril while saying thank you?
I stopped thinking about it deeply...

“You shouldn't lean against the door when you ride the train.”
I remember the words my mother used to tell me when I was young.
Leaning against the door not only puts you in danger, but you might also awaken a special ability that inflicts status ailments on those around you.

Every time I see someone reading a newspaper on the train, I feel a sense of warning.

And every time the children at my part-time job tear up a newspaper, I can't help but be reminded of that salaryman.

[Postscript]

I posted the first half on Twitter before editing it, so I have posted the corrected version here. I hope it is a little easier to read.

There were actually parts I wanted to cut, but since it's already out there, I've delivered it without cutting those parts. Haha.

Thank you to everyone who tried their best to read it even before the edit!!