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Rei Shigeta Column

Still, the world is beautiful. II

Rei Shigeta
Writer / Editor

Born in Hikari City, Yamaguchi Prefecture in 1985.

Graduated from Japan Journalist College.

After working for an editing production company, a boxing magazine (freelance),

and a publishing production company, currently works as a writer and editor at Seihokusha Co.

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DAYS /  Rei Shigeta Column

Still, the world is beautiful. II

Learning from Men's kick view of society.


Was that my fault?

It was early 2021, about 10 days past January.

On a sunny and pleasant morning, I was riding along the riverside road with my son (then 4 years old and mischievous) on the back of my bicycle, humming a tune.

I think we were humming and talking about such trivial things as how he was going to be late for preschool and what he was going to have for lunch today.


Then, in front of me, I saw a man in his 50s, maybe. 

I saw an old man in his 50s or so, wearing a bright orange down coat, walking ahead of me.

We were going in the same direction.

He glanced back, noticed our presence, and gave us the right of way (or so it seemed).


Oh, thank goodness.

The road along the river is narrow.

As we were about to pass by him, we got a kick on the rear wheel of our bicycle.


What, what, what, what!


...I was in a light panic.

(But I want to praise myself to the utmost that I didn't kick myself. Nice core, nice sense of balance.)


What do you mean? I turned around and looked at the man with a devilish expression on my face (I mean, I looked like I was about to start crying) and saw that he was ready to kick me again (like before a free kick in soccer). I was so scared that I ran into the police station nearby.


I was so scared that I rushed to the nearby police station, but I was not injured, so I did not think it was worth filing a damage report.

I will never forget the sound of my heartbeat, which was abnormally high.

It was a great vibes... (No, how to use vibes).



There are reasons I can't see, maybe.


For a while after that, maybe two weeks, I was angry and afraid of that orange downed man.


I mean, why did he kick me?

Did I do something wrong?

Why is someone who does such scary things on the loose...?

I mean, come on, get caught by the police! Why are you living like a normal person?

If you won't get caught, at least don't leave the house.

I guess it's not safe in Tokyo...

Ah, I'm afraid to even walk on a brightly lit street... I don't want to spend my days feeling this anxious...

Why do I have to live my life worrying about that man?  Give me back the capacity of my head and heart!


But after making him the bad guy (well, actually, he is bad, isn't he?), complaining and blaming him, and talking about him a little bit (really, a little bit), I felt like the hands of the clock had turned a full circle, and I suddenly thought.

I wondered if it was really only the man's fault.


Don't cover scary things, maybe.

At such a time, I read a book.

Delinquent boys who can't cut the cake

The author is a child psychiatrist, and he says that some juveniles who commit crimes and are in juvenile training schools have weak cognitive abilities and are unable to recognize the world and society correctly (if that is an appropriate expression) before they reflect on their crimes.

Many of these juveniles commit crimes while living in a world that is very difficult to live in, unaware or unaware of the fact that they have weak cognitive abilities.

And that this can be prevented by education in early childhood...etc.

(I am sorry if the above perception is wrong, but please read the book.)


I am not saying that the man is "a person who commits crimes due to weak cognitive ability".

No, there is no way to be sure, and even if he were, that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive him.

It doesn't mean I'm going to do anything.

If my son had been injured, I think I would have ganged up on the other person like a stray cat that doesn't like people, or a bird of prey that comes at you with a double punch of hunger and anger (or whatever emotion you have).

Seriously, I think I really really beat the crap out of him.

(In fact, I think I have the strength to do it.)


But then I beat them to a pulp, and the police caught me, and all was well! I wondered if that was the end of the story.

Before the man's kicked the rear wheel of my bike, I wondered if there was anything I could do to stop him.

I wondered if there was something I could have done to stop him.


An angry mother learned to "look over the top".

(Please read the above subheading with the DORAKUE level-up sound effect on.)

Now, there are people in society who, whether intentionally or not, hurt someone, or cause fear in someone.

We don't want to get close to such people, we don't want to get hurt, we don't want to be afraid of them, so let's get rid of them, let's pretend we didn't see them....

I think it would be better to have a society that is not like that.


The anger and hatred that comes up reflexively will surely be uncontrollable.

But then I stop, look down, soar high into the sky like a bird of prey, and look at myself and society from there.

Then, I try to think, "Why did this happen? And then I think, "Why did this happen?

What can I do to help myself, my family, and my loved ones live comfortably in this society? I think it is a part of being a member of society to think and act accordingly.

(That does not mean that I have taken any action regarding the case of the uncle...sorry...but I think I have come to look at society from a bird's eye view...I would like to think that I have improved as a human being)


The title of this series is "The World is Still Beautiful Ⅱ".
I spent a lot of time deciding on the title of this series.

Because I don't have a naming sense.
Life can be painful, but I still want to live thinking that the world is beautiful.

I don't want to accept any comments that it's the same as a famous shoujo manga (sorry if you, Shiina Tomohiro and his fans, came here by searching for it).


The man who suddenly kicked me.

It's scary, isn't it?

I still wonder why he kicked me and my son.

If I had been seriously injured, if I had died, I would not be able to say such a beautiful thing.

But if I could, I would like to live my life in such a way that I can think, "Still, the world is beautiful.