Akihabara Circuit Loop: A Short Novel of Electric Deja Vu
The energy drink tasted of ozone and repeating code. Not the vaguely fruity, artificially enhanced boost I’d expected navigating Akihabara’s electric town, but a sharp, almost burning sensation that numbed my tongue. I’d come seeking components, rare chips for a project, a momentary escape from routine. Instead, I found a circuit breaker in reality.
The first sign was subtle: a vendor selling the exact same obscure RAM module I’d purchased an hour before, claiming it was their last one. I dismissed it as coincidence, Akihabara was a whirlwind of replicated goods. But then the cosplayer dressed as Unit 01 from Evangelion passed me, twice, each time making direct eye contact, a flicker of recognition – or was it accusation? – in their gaze.
The tingling in my teeth intensified with each repetition. The flashing neon signs blurred into a single, pulsating wave of light. The cacophony of anime theme songs and electronic beeps coalesced into a monotonous drone. I was trapped. I bought another energy drink, hoping the caffeine would sharpen my senses, break the loop.
It didn’t. The ozone taste was stronger this time, metallic and sickening. I saw myself reflected in a store window, but it wasn’t quite me. My face was subtly different, harder, etched with the weariness of countless repetitions. I was becoming an echo.
The Glitch in the Matrix
I tried to break the pattern. I walked down a different street, entered a cafe I’d never seen before. The menu was indecipherable, filled with symbols that resembled circuit diagrams. The waitress, a girl with bright pink hair and eyes that seemed to glow, smiled knowingly. “Looking for a way out?” she asked, her voice a synthesized whisper.
I nodded, desperate. She slid a small, unmarked pill across the counter. “Take this. It might reset your system. Or it might fry your circuits permanently. Your call.”
I hesitated. What did I have to lose? Another loop of flashing lights and synthetic flavors? Another step toward becoming a hollow imitation of myself?
I swallowed the pill. The world dissolved into static.
Reboot
I woke up in my apartment, the remnants of the metallic taste lingering on my tongue. The clock read 6:00 AM. The sky outside was just beginning to lighten. I reached for my phone. No missed calls, no strange messages. Just the usual barrage of notifications.
Was it all a dream? A caffeine-induced hallucination triggered by the relentless sensory overload of Akihabara? Or had I truly glimpsed the underlying code, the repeating loops that governed reality?
I deleted the project files I’d been working on. Maybe some circuits are best left uncrossed.
I made myself a cup of green tea, the real kind, the kind that tasted of earth and leaves, not ozone and regret. As I sipped it, I noticed a small, unmarked pill on my desk. I don’t remember putting it there.
I stared at it. The circuit beckoned.