#ShirokumaLiteratureClub Shadow Roots, Outlines of Tomorrow ~Short Fiction~

I am participating in Kosuke Komaki's fun project, "From Yesterday."

The deadline is Wednesday, 2/25, 23:59. Thank you for your support.

*This story is a work of fiction.

Shadow Roots, Outlines of Tomorrow

Since yesterday, my shadow has been stuck to the ground and won't move.

In the morning, the moment I took a step to head to the station, I felt an intense sense of discomfort under my feet.

It was a feeling of rejection, as if someone had grabbed my heel, or as if quick-drying glue had been applied to the soles of my shoes.

When I looked back, only my shadow remained stuck fast to the bedroom flooring, staring fixedly at me.

Even though I, the body, moved, the shadow refused to budge an inch from its position yesterday.

The city was, as always, filled with a hard, inorganic quality that pursued only functionality.

The building walls and the business bags of the people passing by all reflected a cold, frozen light.

In the midst of that, I alone existed while dragging the "weight" of my own shadow, ignoring the laws of physics.

"Only time is alive."

I muttered to myself.

The clock hands ticked away calmly, and the world efficiently updated itself toward tomorrow.

However, only my shadow stubbornly held onto "yesterday."

This unmoving black stain is a symbol of the "pain" I have kept hidden away.

Unable to keep up with the speed of those around me, and unable to sweep away the sediment that had accumulated inside, I had continued to deceive myself.

Perhaps that limit has manifested as this rebellion of my shadow.

I stopped going to work and sat down on a deserted winter tree-lined path.

I stared intently at my own shadow fixed to the asphalt, like an observer, or perhaps with the eyes of someone peering into a mirror.

It was a terribly lonely dialogue in the silence.

"Why won't you move?"

There was no answer.

However, as I continued to observe without averting my gaze, a strange sensation began to sprout.

Until now, I had assumed that my shadow (my past stagnation and loneliness) was a liability that should be discarded.

But could this unmoving shadow be the 'root' that anchors my flighty spirit to the ground of reality?

People around me are rushing toward the future, their shadows fluttering lightly behind them.

Yet, their steps seemed somehow precarious, almost translucent.

In contrast, my shadow is heavy, dark, and deep as mud.

This lonely stagnation is precisely what deepens the strata of who I am, symbolizing the outline of my unwavering individuality.

This time spent not flocking with others, but quietly digging into myself alone, was my nourishment.

The moment I realized this, I felt the hard ice deep in my chest slowly melting from my own body heat.

"I am fine just as I am."

There is no need to keep pace with anyone, nor any need to forcibly erase yesterday.

This heavy shadow is the proof that I am me.

When I redefined it that way, a faint warmth settled into my cold fingertips.

When I suddenly stood up, the shadow that had been so stubborn slid right up to my feet.

It was no longer a burden to be dragged along, but a solid foundation supporting my steps.

However, the world is still cold, and a harsh reality exists there.

Yet, within me, a warm meaning all my own is lit.

Carrying yesterday with me, I stepped firmly onto the new ground that is today.

- End -

#ShirokumaLiteratureClub