What does it mean to be perfect?"
"Maybe... it means being like Saito Ken."
---
It was morning.
But the light had no warmth —
as if even the sun was tired of shining.
The buildings all looked the same, the roads ran perfectly straight.
People... were fine.
Everything was perfect.
And that… was the problem.
Saito Ken — 16 years old.
Pressed uniform. Perfectly combed hair — not a single strand out of place.
His footsteps landed at equal distances.
Even when he smiled, it was measured —
not too much, not too little.
People looked at him and whispered:
> "Now that is what perfect looks like."
But no one ever asked…
> "Does it hurt to stay perfect?"
---
Saito woke up every day at exactly 6:00 AM.
Marked a green tick on his calendar.
No red marks. No bad days.
Everything in schedule. Everything in control.
But inside him,
there was one thing he couldn't control:
> An empty feeling.
Like everything was in place —
but something… was missing.
---
In class, everyone admired him.
Teachers called him the best student.
Boys were jealous.
Girls admired him.
But…
No one ever really looked into his eyes.
There was a tiredness in them —
not from sleep…
but from expectation.
---
During lunch break, everyone laughed with friends.
They cracked jokes, shared food.
And Saito?
His lunchbox was arranged like art.
His smile reached his lips —
but never his eyes.
> "Do you ever make mistakes, Saito?"
He'd always smile gently and reply:
> "Mistakes? They're not allowed."
---
One day, Saito was taking a train to attend an award ceremony —
"Best Youth Model of the Year."
Everything was planned.
Clean uniform.
Speech prepared.
Smile rehearsed.
But inside one compartment of the train...
something felt strange.
A little too cold.
A little too quiet.
A little… off.
As he sat down, he noticed a small sign:
> "Only the imperfect may enter."
He chuckled.
> "Well, I'm perfect."
He closed his eyes.
And when he opened them again—
---
The world had changed.
The roads were crooked.
The buildings leaned just slightly.
People laughed without reason.
Some wore torn clothes.
And strangest of all…
they were talking to themselves.
A girl laughed loudly.
A boy was scribbling poetry on the pavement.
A woman muttered:
> "I'm sad today. What are you gonna do about it?"
Saito was confused.
This world was… flawed.
And then he noticed something:
> He was the only one who looked perfect.
---
A little girl came up to him.
She looked at his clean face.
His perfectly tied tie.
And asked:
> "Are you real?
Or just a statue?"
For the first time ever…
Saito had no answer.
---
In the world he came from, people hid their flaws.
Here…
they lived with them.
Saito had always been taught:
> "Perfection = Acceptance"
But here,
he felt completely out of place.
---
And then a voice called out —
an old man.
> "Perfection?" he laughed,
"That's just fear…
wearing a tuxedo and calling itself 'the best.'
> Real people?
They're never the best.
They just… are."
Saito asked:
> "What is this place?"
The old man grinned.
> "Ningenai.
The place where humanity is lost."
---
Saito's head was spinning.
All his life he had seen only perfect people.
But here — flaws were power.
He looked at his hands — still spotless.
But inside…
> He felt something messy.
And for the first time…
he didn't hate it.
---
Chapter End Note:
> This world was a mirror.
And Saito…
was about to see his true reflection in it.
---
🩶 TO BE CONTINUED…