Untitled Resentment refers to a type of anger and hatred that cannot be articulated but undeniably exists within us. It is a widespread negative emotion, arising from exhaustion after monotonous work, humiliation in relationships, unjust distribution of societal wealth, or resentment toward a creator who offers no answers to our pleas. Those who harbor this Untitled Resentment are often ruthlessly awakened from the sweet illusion of life, forced to see the harsh reality of the world.
In Tokyo, Japan, a crowded subway station bustles during rush hour. Busy commuters, laden with bags, elbow their way through the crowd, racing to return home.
Yōko, an ordinary woman, steps out of a convenience store holding a bottle of lemon tea. She twists off the cap and takes a slow sip, glancing around and letting out a soft sigh.
Everyone looks anxious, rushing toward different life goals. Yōko, too, plans to follow the same routine: after work, she’ll go home, watch random entertainment videos in her cramped apartment, and spend the night aimlessly. That’s what she’s supposed to do. She should follow her fate like everyone else. But for some reason, Yōko feels differently today. She decides to defy the voice inside her that constantly urges her forward. No matter what, she will rebel, going against the voice that directs her life.
“Go home, and fulfill your fate on your way back,” the inexplicable voice echoes in her mind again, urging her onward.
Yōko shakes her head desperately, carefully maneuvering around the oncoming crowd and retreating into a corner of the walkway. She takes out the leftover rice ball from lunch and nibbles on it. Today, she vows to do nothing. She firmly resolves once again to follow her own path.
Suddenly, Yōko notices something strange.
A young girl, about twelve years old, sits in the middle of the walkway, holding her face in her hands and emitting faint cries. Her knee has an obvious scrape, blood slowly oozing from the wound, trickling down her slender leg.
Strangely, no one seems to notice the injured girl. People pass by without a second glance, rushing forward with robotic precision toward their own destinations.
Yōko feels deeply confused, unable to look away from the girl. After staring for a while, she can’t resist any longer and decides to approach.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” Yōko squeezes through the bustling crowd and approaches the mysterious girl.
“Little one, are you okay? You’re hurt... I’m trained in first aid. I have some iodine. Would you like me to clean your wound?” Yōko, ever kind, takes out iodine and cotton from her bag and offers them to the girl.
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The girl doesn’t respond. She sits quietly, burying her face in her knees. A strange black smoke begins to form around her, and the surrounding noise seems to blur, replaced by a high-pitched buzzing sound. The buzzing grows louder.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll help you clean the wound,” Yōko says, feeling dizzy from the buzzing. But despite her growing discomfort, she forces herself to stay focused, dipping a cotton swab in iodine and moving it toward the girl’s wound.
Suddenly, the girl grabs Yōko’s hand tightly and lifts her head.
Yōko finally sees her face. The girl has a mixed heritage, with flawless, snow-white skin as delicate as freshly fallen snow. Her large, clear eyes and sharp features give her a beauty beyond her years. Despite her sweet, harmless face, her eyes betray a venomous malice, far more deadly than any snake’s or scorpion’s sting.
The girl glares at Yōko, her grip turning Yōko’s wrist purple. Though she smiles, it is a smile filled with contempt, a superiority complex.
“You’re just data with no name. You think you’re special? Rather than wasting your time here, fulfilling your so-called self-worth, you should go and fulfill your fate. You’re already late. Remember this: no matter how hard you struggle, you’re nothing but a string of data.”
Yōko looks at the mysterious girl in shock and confusion. After a few seconds, it’s as if some invisible force takes control of her. Her eyes begin to lose their focus, growing dull and empty.
The fractured clouds slice the setting sun, leaving a bloody wound in the sky. The sunlight, like blood, soaks the world with negative emotions—unwillingness and resentment. On the roadside, withered flowers and grass sway aimlessly in the wind, symbolizing the hesitation of countless lost souls. The tangled mess of power lines on the train tracks resembles a spider’s web, occasionally sparking with malicious intent, waiting for its prey. Soon, it gets what it wants. A train speeds toward the station, its shrill bell signaling the approaching trap.
On the platform, many wait: suited office workers, playful students, trembling elderly people, and a dazed woman. The station attendants whistle, repeating the safety announcements, guiding the crowd to form an orderly line as the train approaches. Normally, everyone follows the attendant’s instructions and lines up, except for Yōko, who stands apart, her expression vacant.
The train grows closer, its shrill bell becoming piercing. The dazed Yōko slowly walks toward the tracks. The people around her quickly understand her intentions and scream, “Hey, what’s she doing? Is she trying to jump?”
The attendant rushes toward Yōko, grabbing her wrist and shouting, “Hey! What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
Yōko slowly turns back, her gaze fixed on the attendant, and asks, “Why are you trying to stop me? You, me, and all of them—we were all supposed to die today. We’re late. You should come too.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand. The train is coming! This is dangerous!” The attendant stares at Yōko in confusion and shock, still gripping her wrist tightly. But as he looks closer, his face pales, his brow furrows, and cold sweat drenches him. His teeth chatter with fear, and he finally screams in terror.
Suddenly, everyone on the platform seems possessed, screaming wildly and charging toward the tracks in a manic frenzy. The train, which should slow down, shows no signs of stopping. It speeds up, crushing their bodies mercilessly, the air filled with the sickening sound of flesh and bone breaking, blood splattering everywhere.