A Silent Corpse
The lights were still on.
But there was no trace of life left in the room.
On the table sat an opened pack of supermarket side dishes, a pair of chopsticks lying askew.
The television played on mute, looping footage from a variety show.
In the bottom right corner of the screen was an anime-style character someone had created—
“Justice Girl Mirarun.”
Miura sat in his chair, staring blankly.
In his hand was a smartphone, the screen displaying a search of his own name.
The results returned nothing—just silence and erasure.
—
There was nothing left.
His history as a workplace harasser.
The suicide of a former subordinate.
The online lynching.
Losing his job.
His family leaving him.
Being condemned by the media.
His social annihilation.
All of it had become “old news.”
And when something is no longer talked about,
it’s treated as if it never happened.
But the guilt remained—
lodged deep within him.
—
He looked in the mirror.
He looked older.
His voice wouldn’t come.
He had no appetite.
He couldn’t sleep.
And when he did sleep—
he dreamed.
In his dreams, she smiled.
Held out a cup of tea.
“This one makes you a little kinder.”
He reached for it.
Tried to grasp the cup.
But every time his fingers touched it,
it melted into black liquid.
She smiled—
but her eyes did not.
“Kindness is just a poison without pain.
That’s what you gave me.”
—
He awoke trembling.
Medicine packets were scattered on the table.
Had he taken them or not? He couldn’t remember.
—
That evening, a letter arrived in the mailbox. No sender listed.
Inside was a photocopy of an old company newsletter.
In the corner, handwritten words:
“You didn’t ‘kill’ anyone.
But how many people did you watch fade away without saving?”
The handwriting shook.
It was his own.
—
That was the end.
That night, the lights remained on—
but never turned off.
The next morning, the building manager called it in.
Koichi Miura was found, still seated, cold to the touch.
The room was tidy.
In his phone’s search history, only one phrase:
“lemon balm tea benefits”
—
No one had killed him.
But no one had saved him either.
And that—
was true ruin.
