WELL: Chapter 1

While you may already be familiar with these terms, I’ve provided their English definitions for those who may not be.

さん (san): This is a general, respectful suffix used to address or refer to someone. It's similar to "Mr.," "Mrs.," or "Ms." in English. It's commonly used for people of all ages and social statuses in both formal and informal contexts.

君 (kun): This suffix is often used for addressing younger males, or in a more familiar or casual setting. It can be used with people of the same or lower status, and it's commonly used among friends, students, or in professional settings where there is a clear hierarchy (like between a superior and a subordinate). 

ちゃん (chan): This suffix is used to express affection or endearment, typically towards children, pets, or close friends. It conveys a sense of familiarity and warmth, and is often used with people who are younger or of the same age but with whom one shares a close, informal relationship. While it can be used for both males and females, it is more commonly used for females and children.

Content warning: This story depicts extreme scenarios of suffering and violence, to a level even the author refers to as a "End-of-the-Century Hell BL." Among Konohara-sensei’s works, which are already known for serious and intense themes, this stands out as the most terrifying. It includes numerous traumatic elements, such as forced acts, and scenes involving corpses. Recommended only for readers who are absolutely confident they can handle extremely heavy and disturbing content.

Translator’s Note: The second part of this work contains content so extreme that I have chosen not to post it on the blog. Due to its graphic nature, I am concerned it may violate Blogger’s content policies. However, it's available in the EPUB version.

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In a fog of muddled consciousness, Kakita Ryousuke trembled uncontrollably. His entire body felt as if it had been plunged into ice. Instinctively, his hand reached out in search of warmth—but instead of finding comfort, it met a tight restraint and fell limp to the floor. His chest felt compressed, every breath shallow and strained. The overpowering smell of sweat and acrid alcohol filled his nose, thick enough to choke on.

Suddenly, he bolted up the staircase of awareness. His eyes snapped open—but what he saw was no different than when they were closed. Darkness. Absolute and unmoving. The kind of darkness that reminded him of the countryside he used to visit as a child. His grandfather’s old home on the outskirts of town had no nearby neighbors, and when the lights went out at night, it was so suffocatingly black that even childish superstitions started to feel real. A darkness thick enough to believe in ghosts.

But this wasn’t his grandfather’s country house. That was impossible.

The moment he tried to stretch his cramped limbs, a piercing pain shot through his right ankle, and he instinctively curled up tight in response.

“Ugh…”

Even after the initial shock faded, a persistent, nasty throbbing lingered. Clenching his teeth to endure it, Ryousuke scratched at his head, confused by the pain, unable to understand why his ankle hurt so badly. He didn’t even know where he was. And again—that sharp, choking scent of alcohol filled his nose.

His eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark. Shapes that had been invisible moments ago gradually came into focus—wooden shelves lined in perfect order, rows of tightly packed bottles, and the distinct musty smell of mold. It was the underground wine cellar his father had always been so proud of, a place Ryousuke hadn’t set foot in for years. Why was he lying down in a place like this?

“Ryou-chan, you're awake?”

A warm breath brushed his ear, and a familiar voice followed.

“You... Shinobu?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you cold, Ryou-chan?”

Fingers stroked his hair and pulled his body close. As cold as he was, the overly intimate touch felt off, different from the Shinobu he knew. Uncomfortable. Ryousuke pushed the body beside him aside and sat halfway up. His body felt as if it were filled with lead, and the moment he straightened his spine, dizziness hit him. He pressed a hand to his forehead and flinched at the heat. Just realizing he might have a fever made him feel worse.

“Ryou-chan, do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can you say my name?”

Annoyed by the persistent questioning, Ryousuke spread his arms and raised his voice.

“What the hell are you going on about? You’re Shinobu, right? Sugahara Shinobu!”

A jolt ran through him as Shinobu, who was larger than him, wrapped him in a firm embrace. Startled, Ryousuke shoved him away.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

The shadow in front of him swayed. As he glared, soft sobs began to echo through the cold darkness.

“Ryou-chan's finally back to normal…”

Shinobu’s voice trembled, punctuated by the sound of him sniffling hard. Ryousuke furrowed his brow.

“You’ve been weird for so long, Ryou-chan. You wouldn’t open your eyes, kept mumbling stuff... I was really scared you were gonna die just like that. If you died, I seriously wouldn’t know what to do anymore.”

Ryousuke pressed both hands against his fevered forehead. Like flickering images on old 8mm film, fragments of memory flashed through his mind. Shinobu’s voice—“Did you know someone there?”—the crumbling ceiling, a scream drowned in roaring noise. He remembered standing up from a chair to run, then staggering from a massive tremor and falling to the floor. That was where the memory cut off. He gently touched the back of his head. There was a dull ache.

He looked around again. The wine cellar beneath the house had been built by his father, a hopeless wine enthusiast. Back in elementary school, he and Shinobu had once played hide-and-seek down there and accidentally broke a prized bottle. After getting scolded so fiercely he never wanted to remember it, he hadn’t dared touch the cellar door since.

A chill raced up his spine. After a loud sneeze, his body began to shiver uncontrollably. Even though it was only early October, the cellar felt like the inside of a refrigerator.

“Hey, we’re going. Dammit… who the hell can stand staying in a freezing place like this any longer?”

The moment he bent his right knee even slightly, pain flared again in his ankle. He didn’t scream, but tears welled up in the corners of his eyes.

“There’s nothing out there anyway. It’s probably even colder.”

“There’s no way there’s nothing. This is my house’s basement, damn it!”

He shouted furiously. The pain that wouldn't let up, combined with Shinobu’s clueless tone, made Ryousuke's irritation flare to the breaking point. He gently touched his ankle and flinched. The spot that had been hurting so badly was now swollen up like a log.

“What the hell is this...?”

Even just feeling it and comparing it with his left ankle, the difference was obvious. This wasn’t normal. It was clearly something serious.

“What the hell’s wrong with my leg? Hey—what’s going on with it?! Say something, you idiot! Don’t just stand there staring, take me to the damn hospital already!”

Clenching his fists, he yelled at the top of his lungs. Maybe scared by that, Shinobu’s presence backed away. The fact that he couldn’t close the distance between them, that his fury couldn’t even reach him, filled Ryousuke with rage.

“S-sorry… I don’t know where a hospital is. I was doing all I could just to find your basement…”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up. I’ve had enough. Go call my mom or dad, right now!”

“Your mom and dad... they’re not here.”

The reply came in a whisper, so faint it sounded like it might disappear altogether. Ryousuke scratched his head roughly.

“What the hell?! Fine, then call my sister Mika or the housekeeper, Sae, I don’t care who—just go get someone!”

“Mika-chan’s not here. Neither is my mom.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

He spat the words out and slammed his fists against the hardwood floor. Talking to this guy was useless. It didn’t take long to reach that conclusion.

“Hey, Shinobu. Carry me up the stairs. Take me to where everyone else is.”

“Ryou-chan, but...”

“Quit whining and hurry the hell up! I’m not gonna let this slide if you don’t.”

The shadow in front of him cautiously drew closer. Ryousuke grabbed the approaching man’s arm, twisted it roughly, and forced him to turn around.

“Bend down more, you idiot.”

Still barking orders, he shoved his hands onto Shinobu’s shoulders. Sitting on the floor, it was hard to get the right leverage to climb onto his back. His body was weak, and his first few attempts failed—he ended up falling back, hitting his right foot on the floor and gasping as pain shot through him again. It took almost ten minutes, but he finally managed to cling to Shinobu’s neck.

Hoisted onto Shinobu’s tall frame, the ceiling felt suddenly closer. Height was the one advantage his clumsy childhood friend had—despite never having put it to use in sports or anywhere else. Ryousuke, who hadn’t even reached 170 cm (5’6”) himself, found himself resentfully comparing their heights. Why the hell did this idiot end up so tall?

Even carrying someone, Shinobu walked with steady steps. As they climbed the metal stairs, a loud clang clang echoed through the cellar. But while the ceiling rushed toward them with alarming speed, Shinobu’s back betrayed not the slightest hesitation.

“H-Hey! Stop!”

Shinobu came to an abrupt halt—but not in time. With a loud thunk, Ryousuke smacked his head hard against the low ceiling.

“Ow!!” he howled.

“Ah, Ryou-chan, sorry...”

“You fucking idiot!”

He smacked his airheaded childhood friend across the head. Shinobu stood frozen on the stairs, taking the blow without protest, muttering, “Sorry, sorry,” over and over. By the time Ryousuke’s own hand started to sting from hitting too much, he finally stopped.

“You really are hopeless. You can’t do a damn thing right.”

“I’m sorry,” Shinobu mumbled, voice trembling.

“Whatever. Just open that door already.”

Gently setting Ryousuke down on the stair landing, Shinobu reached for the basement door.

“Ryou-chan, no matter what it looks like out there, don’t be shocked, okay?”

Shinobu turned back to make sure he understood.

“Hurry the hell up.”

The door creaked open slowly. As it pushed upward with a groan, something rushed into the basement with a loud zhaa.

“Uwah—!”

Ryousuke instinctively ducked and covered his head. Whatever it was sifted down into his hair, slipped through his fingers with a soft whisper, ran along his arms, and dropped from his elbows to pile up white against the iron stairs. Sand. A fine, ash-colored white sand. Why was so much of it pouring in from inside the house...?

“Ryou-chan, are you okay?”

The cascade of falling sand finally came to a halt. Ryousuke opened his mouth to complain—if Shinobu had known this was going to happen, why hadn’t he warned him before opening the door? But the words caught in his throat, his eyes widening. Just beyond Shinobu’s head, through the open doorway lit by a dim, gentle light—he saw the moon.

He shoved aside the hand offered to him and clambered up the remaining stairs on one leg. His fingers grasped the edge of the doorway, and a gritty, sandy texture greeted his touch. Slowly, he poked his head out. What he saw was a vast desert of pure white sand, glowing beneath the soft light of the moon.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me…”

A chill wind slapped against his cheek, tangled around his ear and howled with a hyuu-hyuu. He shut his eyes, then opened them again, but the scene before him didn’t change. No matter where he looked—360 degrees around—it was the same endless landscape. He was supposed to be in the narrow space beside the basement stairs, with a hallway to the kitchen on his right. But all of it, every trace, had vanished.

He stared in stunned silence at the moonlit desert, until the biting cold snapped him back to his senses. Inch by inch, he backed away and gave the order to Shinobu beside him—“Close it.” The door swung shut, and the world bathed in moonlight was swallowed back into darkness.

“Where the hell is this place?”

He muttered the words.

“This is the basement of your house, Ryou-chan.”

That much he could accept. He recognized the basement.

“Then what happened to the rest of the house? Why is it completely gone? None of this makes any goddamn sense.”

He snapped at the shadow standing before him. It trembled slightly and answered with a frail voice.

“I don’t know either... Three days ago, we went to annys together, remember? There was that huge sound, and the shop caved in, right? Ever since then, the outside’s been like this.”

Three days ago, Shinobu had said. But Ryousuke’s memory ended in that shop, and then picked up again here. Had he really been unconscious for three whole days? Still, the missing time didn’t matter right now.

“What I want to know is why this happened. Where are my dad and mom? Where’s Mika?”

The shadow fell silent. Ryousuke grabbed him by the collar and shook him roughly.

“I—I don’t know! I don’t know, but... maybe they’re dead...”

The word dead came out too easily, too quickly—and it chilled Ryousuke to his core. His grandparents were alive and well, no one in the family had shown a hint of illness. Death had never been something that hovered close to him. It was always distant, something to be observed, something that had nothing to do with him.

“For the world to end up like this, something huge must’ve happened. You and I were lucky—we survived. But even underground, there were kids who got trapped under the collapsed ceiling. Some were bleeding from their heads, others... th-their bodies were all crushed…”

“That doesn’t mean my family is dead too!”

Still seated on the stairs, Ryousuke clenched his fists tight.

“When I carried you outside, Ryou-chan, you weren’t moving at all. At first, I was scared too—wondering where the hell we were. There was nothing but this white desert and random bits of concrete scattered around. I even thought we might’ve time-slipped or something... but then, when I looked around, your basement was still there…”

Maybe finding this place had been Shinobu’s way of clinging to reality. Ryousuke’s head throbbed sharply. The realization that the two of them were trapped in the middle of nowhere, completely alone, crept over him like a slow wave.

When the talking stopped, a heavy silence settled in. Faintly, he could hear the wind swirling outside the door. Out of nowhere, the faces of his family came to mind, and his chest tightened. Even his bratty little sister Mika felt painfully distant. Did they really all die? he wondered. But he hadn’t seen them dead. No one had told him they were. It was just an assumption, without a single shred of proof. Maybe this was all just a nightmare—and when he woke up, everything would be back the way it was.

He pinched his cheek. Hard. Again and again. But the dream wouldn’t end—only the pain grew more and more real.

“Where the hell is this place?”

He repeated the same question.

“Your house’s basement, Ryou-chan.”

Came the same reply. Then, after a small pause, Shinobu continued.

“Wanna go outside and look again?”

The only thing within reach to throw was the sand that had spilled onto the stairs. That, too, frustrated him.

“Go die, you idiot!”

He shouted, then clutched his head. The only response was the lonely moan of the wind.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

He picked up the wristwatch he’d taken from Shinobu. When he pressed the small button, the digital time lit up for just a moment. Even in this world where nothing made sense, time marched on with mechanical precision.

The weight of reality crashed into him all at once, sharpening his nerves. Even though he knew it was the middle of the night, Ryousuke couldn’t sleep. Shinobu had started nodding off about an hour ago, and when the digital beep marked 3 a.m., he let out a massive yawn and began breathing softly in his sleep.

Ryousuke huddled close to his tactless, thick-headed childhood friend. If he didn’t, the wine cellar, boxed in by cold, lifeless concrete, would be unbearably freezing. Nights brought sharp drops in temperature, but Shinobu had said the daytime outside was scorching—like standing on a frying pan. Just like a real desert, he’d added.

The weakness in his body was due to the fever, he knew that much. But knowing didn’t mean he could do anything about it. There were no medicines here. No warm bed to crawl into. He absentmindedly pressed a hand to his forehead, and the heat met his touch along with the limp feel of his damp bangs. He hadn’t bathed, and his own smell bothered him—until he realized Shinobu was probably just as bad. Then he thought, whatever.

Lying there, he let his mind drift back to three days ago. That day had been the second time since becoming a second-year that they had to submit their career path survey forms. He’d written down a well-known private university in Tokyo as his first choice. A national university would've been fine too, but he didn’t want to waste time on subjects he sucked at. Plus, the private one had a school recommendation slot. With his grades in the top tier and his ever-model-student behavior, the teachers had always favored him. The odds were overwhelmingly in his favor.

After school, trying to earn a few extra points with the homeroom teacher, he’d helped gather printouts for class along with Shinobu. On the way home, his stomach started growling, so they’d dropped by a fast food joint in the basement of an amusement building. It was called annys.

“C set and a cola.”

With that, Ryousuke headed to a table and sat down first. In their dynamic, taking the order and bringing the food was always the servant’s job, so Shinobu immediately lined up at the register. Even hunched over, his towering height drew attention. It was only then, watching Shinobu from behind, that Ryousuke realized something—if you’re too tall, school uniforms with stand-up collars just don’t suit you.

They’d first met when they were both in third grade. Ryousuke’s first impression of Shinobu had been: “What a filthy little brat.” The runny-nosed, scrawny kid hiding behind his mother, Sae, had even less charm than Ryousuke’s dog, Lloyd.

Sae had been hired to take care of the household chores for the Kakita family. Around that time, Ryousuke’s father—eldest son of a political family whose line of legislators went back to his great-grandfather—had just been elected to the Parliament. His mother, now stepping fully into her role as a politician’s wife, was also busy with the flower arrangement classes she taught as a hobby. In contrast to Ryousuke’s meticulous parents, Sae was incredibly sloppy. She overslept, cut corners by serving store-bought side dishes for dinner, and was generally unreliable.

She was a single mother. Ryousuke had been told the man she’d promised to marry had died—but relatives whispered she’d just been used and tossed aside. When she first arrived at the house, Sae had been just shy of thirty, but even a child could see she wasn’t much to look at and didn’t seem particularly bright. Ryousuke remembered thinking, No way would I ever marry a woman like this.

Shinobu looked just like her—and was just as dim. On top of that, he was clumsy and timid. When they moved in, he also transferred to Ryousuke’s elementary school, and of course, was quickly singled out for bullying. No one wanted to be friends with the grubby housekeeper’s kid—but he could make a fine servant. To protect what was his, Ryousuke made sure to thoroughly retaliate against anyone who picked on Shinobu.

The dirty little kid had clung to him right away, so to keep him from getting the wrong idea, Ryousuke drew the line from the start: “You’re my servant.” And Shinobu had accepted that. From that moment on, their relationship of “master” and “servant” had continued—unbroken, even now.

“Here you go, Ryou-chan.”

Shinobu placed the tray on the table. Without a word, Ryousuke picked up the hamburger. Shinobu sat across from him, put his hands together, and murmured “itadakimasu,” but when he leaned forward, the collar of his uniform caught at his throat, and he undid the top button.

“Ryou-chan, you’re gonna go to university, right?”

The question came out of nowhere, right in the middle of eating. Ryousuke, half-listening while paying more attention to the girl sitting at the table beside them, answered absentmindedly, “Yeah.”

“I’m thinking I’ll go too.”

“Sure, whatever.”

He couldn’t care less. What mattered most at that moment was the girl’s reaction.

“…I was planning on getting a job, but uncle said if I decided to go to college, he’d help pay for it.”

A guy appeared and sat across from the girl. Just like that, she stopped paying Ryousuke the slightest bit of attention. He was tall. That alone pissed Ryousuke off. Don’t go acting like you’re into me when you’re just gonna ignore me the second some tall guy shows up, ugly bitch, he cursed inwardly, and sank his teeth into the hamburger.

“In our third year, we’re gonna get split up into different classes depending on our paths, right? If I went the job route, I’d be in a different class from you, and I really didn’t like that idea. It’d be inconvenient for you too, wouldn’t it? Like going to buy bread at lunch or saving seats in the cafeteria…”

Shinobu kept rambling on about things that didn’t matter.

“I want to go to the same university as you, Ryou-chan. And when you become a Parliament member like your dad, I’ll be your secretary.”

Ryousuke’s father had always treated Shinobu like one of his own children. He was a man who genuinely liked kids, and maybe he felt sorry for Shinobu not having a father. At every event—Christmas, birthdays—he never failed to give him presents. Offering to cover his education too was ridiculously indulgent, but it wasn’t hard to guess how it had happened. Shinobu had probably said something smooth and convenient in front of him, like “If Ryou-chan becomes a Parliament member, I’ll be his secretary,” and managed to charm the old man, who was always eager to see his son follow in his footsteps.

“I haven’t even decided if I’m gonna take over for my dad or not.”

“You totally will, Ryou-chan. I really believe that.”

The girl at the next table stood up and walked off, arm-in-arm with the tall guy who’d joined her. Shinobu glanced back, then tilted his head as he turned back toward Ryousuke.

“Was she someone you knew?”

Ryousuke clicked his tongue sharply.

“Like hell I’d know a bitch that ugly.”

…And in the next moment, the floor lurched violently beneath them, and the ceiling came crashing down. What the hell had just happened? Ryousuke wanted someone—anyone—to explain it. Why everything had disappeared. Why a desert had appeared in its place. Why he had to be the one who got hurt.

He strung together guesses, trying to build a reason. Was it a nuclear bomb? If so, wouldn’t there be more traces of destroyed buildings left? Why wasn’t there anything? Was this disaster isolated to just their area—or had it happened elsewhere too?

A sharp pain shot through his head. Just thinking about what came next, what they were supposed to do, filled him with unease. Nothing could move forward unless they got help. And this desert—it had to end somewhere. There had to be an edge.

Behind him, Shinobu let out a small groan and clung tightly to him, almost like he was hugging him. Normally, Ryousuke would’ve smacked him for that. But with the cold seeping into his skin and the overwhelming loneliness pressing on his chest, he let it slide. Even if the only one beside him was his idiot servant, at least he wasn’t alone.

Just sleep a little. Think about it tomorrow. Tomorrow…

With that thought, Ryousuke sniffled and closed his eyes.

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