/shi/ - shitogaki

When the world ended, it didn’t end with explosions, angels, demons, or anything cool.
No. It just… went quiet.

One morning, the young man opened his eyes and realized the city outside his apartment was dead. Cars frozen mid‑turn. Phones buzzing with messages that would never be answered. Air still as a held breath. Every living thing — humans, animals, bugs — gone.

Except him.
Lucky bastard.

He wandered through the empty streets, calling out for survivors until his voice cracked. Nothing answered back. Not even an echo. That’s when the panic hit him:
He was alone. Completely. Eternally.

But then — in that crushing loneliness — something inside him snapped the other way.

“…Satoko would never cry at a time like this!” he barked at the sky, slamming a fist against his chest like some dramatic anime protagonist. “Nipa! Nipa forever!!”

His footsteps thundered back to his apartment as he kicked open the door like a man possessed. Posters of Satoko Houjou fluttered in the sudden gust. Figures and keychains lined his shelves like tiny guardians.

He stood there, panting, trembling, staring at the smiling blonde gremlin who had gotten him through school, stress, heartbreak, and now — apparently — the apocalypse.

“Satoko… it’s just you and me now.”

From that day on, the survivor turned the whole dead Earth into his Satoko Kingdom.

Abandoned supermarkets?
He scavenged instant noodles and stacked them around a shrine of Satoko acrylic stands.

Empty billboards?
He climbed up and plastered them with scanned Satoko posters until the city skyline looked like a giant, deserted fan convention.

Libraries?
He grabbed every blank notebook and turned them into diaries addressed to Satoko.
“Day 38. I rebuilt a bicycle today. Satoko would’ve laughed at how stupid I looked.”

Museums?
He replaced portraits of historical figures with printed fanart. Satoko as Queen of Egypt. Satoko as Joan of Arc. Satoko as President. (Hey, nobody left to complain.)

The whole silent world echoed with only one voice:

“Satokoooooo! Look! I found a generator! Now I can rewatch the whole series again!!”

There were nights when loneliness clawed at him like a starving beast.
Nights when he curled up on the floor, clutching a Satoko plush, whispering:

“If I stop loving you… I’ll really be alone.”

But every morning, he forced himself up. Because deep down, he believed something absurd — something only the last man alive could get away with:

“As long as I adore Satoko Houjou, I haven’t lost everything.”

And so he lived.
And kept living.
And maybe… in a deserted planet full of silence, ruins, and abandoned dreams…

…being a Satoko Houjou fan was the only thing keeping humanity alive at all.

Even if humanity was only one guy.