Swallow
He headed for the university, wearing his Brioni suit as usual. It was finally a warm spring day and Kyouji walked briskly through the campus and into his laboratory. He had been promoted to professor at a national university three years ago. He had also won an award for his literary criticism.
Kyouji was like a fish out of water, publishing one paper after another. He was also a frequent lecturer. He also talked about his poor poetry, which he had been obsessed with for the past few years. His greed knew no bounds. It was in networking, above all, that his abilities were most apparent. But he had miscalculated.
Unbeknownst to him, Kyouji was behaving in his usual pompous way about his new poem. He had lived his life thinking only of his career. He smiled inwardly, knowing that everything was going his way. He could have said that he had lived his life with dexterity, but he was so blinded by the food in front of his eyes that he saw the important thing of birth and death as something else.
One day, a car drove up to the university and a shout that shook the school building exposed his past life. Immediately, he was so upset and scared that he cowered in his professor's office. The rage lasted about thirty minutes, but his legs trembled.
Kyouji had to cancel his university classes for a week. Hardly able to sleep, he thought about it and summoned up the courage to go to the university. As he entered the usual loophole, a car blocked the road in front of him. The same thing happened later. He was in a cold sweat. But he got out of the car, looking at his watch like it was nothing. His legs were stuck. The doors of the cars behind and in front of him opened. Several small swords fluttered like swallows in the morning light, stabbing him to death.
