Oh, Happy New Year!!
It is New Year's. Shikada here, who had a blast playing Mario Party with my nieces and nephews last night. There is something about party games that brings out the inner child; they are just so much fun. Also, there is something nice about playing board games on New Year's or New Year's Eve, isn't there?
It's Shikada, nice to meet you.
Anyway, I spent last night immersed in games, and after midnight, I played Mario Party online with friends again, where I lost by a landslide and spent New Year's Day soaking my pillow with tears.
When I woke up in the morning with a mild hangover, the cold air in the room wouldn't let me step outside even an inch. Having transformed from a 'kotatsu-snail' into a 'futon-snail,' I once again stuck only my two index fingers out from the edge of the futon early in the new year, waving a tissue I'd used to blow my nose at no one in particular, like a white flag.
But it is New Year's. Monsters live in this house. The monsters pounded on the door of the room where Shikada had tried to return to a peaceful sleep. And there were three of them. No matter how much I stuck my fingers out from the edge of the futon to wave a white flag, it was mercilessly torn apart by the monsters.
"Wake up! Shikada! Let's play games!"
Shikada was dragged off to the lower world with no way to resist, and I had to shuffle the cards against my will. Well, though, I am a 'lighthearted' Shikada to begin with. I quickly became obsessed with the game, and leaving my nieces and nephews aside, I was the one having the most fun. Once it gets to this point, no one can stop me. I reluctantly found a handheld game one of my nephews was playing and snatched it away, saying, "Let me play." I didn't care if my nephew started crying. Once Shikada becomes a slave to a game, I am invincible. And so, New Year's passes by. Even though the new year has come, Shikada absolutely does not grow up.
Happily ever after. There is nothing more wonderful than something auspicious during the New Year. Everyone wants to be auspicious, so they go to shrines to pray or eat luxurious osechi. However, there is nothing more auspicious than a grown adult like Shikada who makes a scene all by himself without noticing the cold stares of those around him. Everyone, if you want to get some of this year's happiness, worshipping Shikada is the shortcut. Even this line of thinking is auspicious. It is a loop of auspiciousness. It is enough to make a sea bream tremble in fear, not even realize it has been cooked, and walk back to the sea. If a sea bream wears shoes, it is boring. There is no room for boredom in Shikada's New Year. Therefore, it is perfectly natural for the sea bream to return to the sea.
Although Shikada is as auspicious as one could wish for during the New Year, such prosperous times are fleeting. There is only one reason Shikada can be cheerful during the winter New Year: because all my needs are met just by going back and forth between the kotatsu and the toilet. Shikada's despair after the New Year holidays end is inversely proportional to that and is immense. Surely, when the New Year holidays are over, I will escape reality and hide in my futon again, becoming a 'futon-snail' and retreating into the shell of my winter quilt. Shikada hates winter again this year; I hate it so much. This is the building material of my identity that will never change. Because that is the flip side of loving summer.
Shikada is one who lets 'good enough' be 'good enough.' And since the hangover still lingering in my head is a nuisance, I will end it here for today.
Oh, Happy New Year!!