Short Story | Pass This Handout to the Back

(It's about 3500 characters long)

1
"Okay. Pass this handout to the back."
I, sitting in the front row, tried to pass the handout back, but I noticed there were clearly not enough copies.
When I looked behind me, there were dozens, no, hundreds of rows stretching out, and the far end looked like a mirage.
In contrast, I had only received four handouts.
I felt guilty about taking one of them to pass to the back. To use an analogy, it felt like living upstream on a river and thinking I shouldn't just divert the water for my own use, or rather, treat it as if it were my own. After all, this handout was public property, and I couldn't imagine myself monopolizing 25% of it.
By the way, how would the people on my left and right decide?
Thinking that, I looked at the hands of the person on my left, and they also had four. They took one and passed it back. Cold-hearted person.
What about the right side? They also took one. Everyone only thinks about themselves. That's the world for you.
At that moment, I was surprised by the scene that entered the corner of my vision.
Only my row was an unusually long line, while the other rows were four deep. And the rows side-by-side also continued far into the distance, with the furthest ones looking like mere concepts.
In other words, if you looked at this situation from directly above, it was T-shaped, and I was sitting exactly at the head of the row where the vertical and horizontal lines connected.
"Please pass it back quickly."
The person in the seat behind me urged me on.
I panicked.
It would be easy to show the handout to the person behind me and say, "There are only four," and if I let my guard down, I would want to do that.
But I couldn't do it, because I felt like that would be pushing this heavy responsibility onto the person behind me as well.
The teacher.
That's it. I should inform the teacher that there aren't enough copies. I had been shaken by facing such an unrealistic situation.
At that moment, I felt something strange in my palm.
When I looked, the handout had melted into a sludge, like slime.
"Please hurry."
The person behind me was annoying.
Teacher.
I tried to say that, but my voice felt stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out at all. I'm pretty sure the last time I spoke properly was three months ago, when I shouted "Go for it!" at the JRA WINS.
While I was lost in that memory, the desk had turned into a mortise-and-tenon joint shaped like a torii gate. The slime that used to be a handout dripped onto it, and I immediately felt a sense of eros.
Cool slime continued to drip from between my fingers, spreading thoroughly into the gaps of the joint. It was, oh, so slimy.
The surface of the torii gate gradually turned rough, and finally, the epidermis peeled off entirely, leaving the dermis—or rather, the inside of the wood—completely exposed, which then fizzed and bubbled, eventually turning into slime.
They all mixed together completely, and in front of me, there was nothing left but a puddle of slime.
"Please hurry."
Hurry with what?
There's only slime, so what do you want me to pass?
"Please hurry. What's wrong?"
As they said that, the person put a handful of slime on the back of my neck.
"Whoa! It's melting! That's dangerous!"

2
"What's dangerous?"
Huh?
When I realized it, I was in a train station, and a woman I didn't know was looking at me with concern.
I tried to say, "What, it was a dream?" but the voice got stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out.
Come to think of it, the last time I spoke properly wasn't three months ago at the JRA WINS, but just now when I said, "Whoa! It's melting! That's dangerous!"
"What's dangerous?"
"Um, it's dangerous because if you touch the slime, your skin will melt."
"Slime?"
"Yes. Slime. It melts everything. Wait? My hand didn't melt. So maybe the human body is fine."
"#What are you talking about?"
"It's cramped here."
"Is it?"
"It's only about a meter high here."
"I suppose so."
"To think this is a station, it must be tough for everyone."
"Is that so? Slurp, slurp."
"Why are you suddenly eating udon?"
"I still have time before departure, so I thought I'd better eat it."
"That's true. It's going to be a long journey from here on out."
"I suppose so. That's why I ate it while I could. On the other hand, you haven't eaten, have you?"
"That's bad. I have a feeling I'm going to be plagued by hunger from here on."
"There are no restrooms ahead, either."
"I should go to the restroom."
"The train leaves in one minute."
"I haven't been to the restroom or had a meal."
"Also, there's no alcohol sanitizer, and there are no baths."
"What a disaster."
"I have a mobile phone charger."
"A mobile phone? A feature phone, not a smartphone?"
"Yes."
"Ugh. My stomach is starting to hurt..."
"Isn't that fine? You just have to go pick some flowers."
"That's just taking a dump in the woods, isn't it?"
"! ...Ta, taking a dump! Bwahahahaha! Ah, that's the best...! Taking a du! Buhoho! Bwahahahaha! Hee! Hee! Taking a du! Stop it-"
"What's so funny? It's just taking a dump. Even if you try to sound cool by saying 'picking flowers'."
"Stop it!"
"?"
"Please stop. That's sexual harassment."
"Sexual harassment? How can there be anything sexual about taking a dump? A dump is neither more nor less than a dump."
"That's true, too. Let's go."
"Oh."

3
"GALAXY EXPRESS THREE NINE WILL TAKE YOU ON A JOURNEY A NEVER ENDING JOURNEY A JOURNEY TO THE STARS"
was written in large Gothic font in a horizontal line on the train.
I had absolutely no idea what it meant.
Every train passing by had that written on it.
Of course, the trains coming from the right had "SRATS EHT OT YENRUOJ A YENRUOJ GNIDNE REVEN A YENRUOJ A NO UOY EKAT LLIW ENIN EERHT SSERP XE YXALAG" written on them.
In katakana.
The woman pursed her lips while pulling udon out of her right nostril, then flicked the udon out of her mouth. In other words, the other end of the udon coming out of her right nostril was now coming out of her lips; to put it more simply, it was a "noodle ropeway."
I kissed her as a joke and sucked on the udon at her lips.
Then the woman gagged loudly, "Ughhh," took a breath, slowly steadied her breathing, and said, "Sexual harassment."
I had absolutely no ulterior motives; in fact, I thought the woman was doing it as a gag, and if so, my action was the result of desperately thinking about what the best retort would be, so I felt that the line about "sexual harassment" was nothing but a trial.
However, there was indeed a miscalculation. The woman's lips were unexpectedly soft and, moreover, full of elasticity.
In inverse proportion to that, the udon was firm, and I chewed it while getting an erection, thinking that it was inevitable she would gag if it passed through her nasal mucosa so quickly.
"What is this 'Galaxy something' thing?"
The woman still had teary eyes, but she said, "Isn't it 'Galaxy Express 999'? I don't know, though."
I really hate the phrase "I don't know, though."
My erection, which had been going strong, completely wilted at those words.
"You do know, don't you?"
"It means 'I don't know the details.' Actually, I haven't verified the facts either."
"Why didn't you just say that from the start?"
The woman seemed to find it troublesome, and the conversation ended there.
When I looked at the woman's face, dried eye gunk that had surfaced after her teary eyes was pooled in the inner corners of her eyes. I thought that dogs and cats also tend to get black eye gunk in that spot.

4
I wrote a story.
I wrote it one character at a time with a mechanical pencil.
Paper is limited.
Four sheets.
I decided to pass the story I wrote on the back of those A4 copy papers to the person behind me, starting from the first chapter.
And at the end, I added, "If you find it interesting, please pass it to the person behind you."
So, the person behind me might have passed it on, or they might have thrown it away.
But I believe I did everything I could, as far as I could think of. Therefore, I don't care about the results.
I think every day that if I don't give my all in every moment, there will be no growth.
Everyone has their own way of living, and I want to accept ways of living that deny my own way of living. However, attacks are not allowed. Because once you are attacked, you have to defend yourself. In other words, a counterattack.
I would like people to imagine that.
I don't mean to argue at all.
I'm just saying that everyone has their own way of living, and I don't mind at all if you deny it within yourself.
On the other hand, people should not be afraid of being denied. You should assert yourself.
However, this is self-assertion while acknowledging the other party.
This is a communication technique called "assertion."
Assertion is effective for aiming for a win-win relationship where people are not denied and respect each other.
I felt that passing the handout was exactly that.
To be honest, I hope that this story of mine will reach beyond the mirage hundreds of rows away; that would be wonderful.
(If you find it interesting, please pass it to the person behind you)

(The End)