After school, Ryota's room was the usual disaster: snack wrappers, a pile of hoodies, and the faint scent of instant noodles that never really went away. The three of them were scattered across the room like dropped laundry. The ceiling fan spun lazily above them, making a soft clicking sound that none of them acknowledged.
Ryota lay flat on the floor, arms out like he'd just fainted from existential despair.
"Do you guys ever think bananas are a government scam?" he said.
Junpei, halfway through a manga on the bean bag chair, didn't even look up. "If you don't explain that in the next five seconds, I'm leaving."
Sota, sitting on the bed with a bag of chips balanced on his lap, popped one into his mouth. "Wait, let him cook. This sounds like one of those classic Ryota theories. Like the one where pigeons are drones."
"They are drones," Ryota said, as if hurt that Sota hadn't accepted that as fact already. "But this one's different. Think about it: bananas are too perfect. They come with their own biodegradable wrapper. No seeds. No mess. Soft enough for babies and old people. Sweet enough for kids. Cheap enough for everyone."
Junpei flipped a page. "So you're saying… bananas are suspicious because they're… good at being bananas?"
"Yes! It's suspicious. What if they're engineered to keep people passive? Like, the government—or some secret banana syndicate—is using them to pacify the population. Ever wonder why you never see wild bananas?"
"Big Banana got to them," Sota said, nodding solemnly.
"Exactly! Dole. Chiquita. These aren't just fruit companies. They're institutions."
Junpei raised an eyebrow. "So in your mind, the banana industrial complex is brainwashing us with fruit."
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
A moment of silence followed. The TV in the corner was still playing some anime, long forgotten. The dramatic music of the ending theme played softly.
Junpei shut his manga. "You know what's kind of weird? Somewhere out there, someone's eating a banana for the first time."
Sota paused mid-chip. "That's kind of beautiful, actually."
"Unless they're joining the system," Ryota muttered.
Junpei sighed. "What do the bananas want, Ryota?"
"To keep us calm. Distracted. No one starts a revolution when they've got potassium flowing through their veins."
Sota tossed a chip at his head. "You are definitely potassium-deficient."
"Exactly. I've been resisting."
Junpei leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Every time I come here, I feel like I lose IQ points."
"Brain cells are a construct," Ryota said.
"Of the banana regime," Sota added, deadpan.
They all laughed. Outside, the sun dipped lower behind the apartment buildings, painting the sky orange. Inside, the fan kept spinning.