Utsukushii Koto: Volume 2 - Part 1

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“Hiromatsu-san.”

He didn’t realize he had been sleeping until he heard his name and woke up. It felt like he had been having a good dream, though he couldn’t recall its details. A gentle hand stroked his head, and the soothing sensation made him feel content. Yosuke Matsuoka was peering down at him with a soft expression.

Matsuoka had a small head, beautifully shaped eyes, and a high nose. His face was always impeccably well-proportioned, different from his own plain, awkward appearance. He had never cared about men’s looks before, but Matsuoka’s face was so striking he couldn’t help but stare. It wasn’t until later that he realized Matsuoka was staring back with such intensity it was almost painful. The intense gaze made it harder to breathe.

“Hiromatsu-san.”

Not knowing why his name was being called repeatedly, he responded with a simple “Yes.” The presence of the other man grew closer. He sensed a kiss coming but didn’t move away. It didn’t even cross his mind to escape.

Their lips met, a soft touch. Matsuoka’s gentle touch was the same as when he stroked his head. Enchanted by the dreamlike feeling, Hiromatsu closed his eyes. But then he felt a rough texture, something unusual and gritty against his chin. Each touch sent a creepy-crawly sensation up his back.

Overcome by disgust, he pushed Matsuoka away. The distance between them widened, and the once gentle face was now tight with a near-crying expression. Hiromatsu had only wanted to get rid of the unpleasant sensation but couldn’t immediately grasp what he had done.

The intense gaze averted, and he heard a small “Sorry.” Not knowing why Matsuoka was apologizing, he didn’t know what to say.

“I think I’m a bit drunk... I’ll go home now.”

Matsuoka grabbed his coat and bag, quickly heading for the door. As Hiromatsu tried to stand, his legs wobbled, and he leaned against the wall, calling out.

“The last train has already left.”

Matsuoka turned back.

“If I get to the main road, I can catch a taxi.”

He put on his coat and smiled, though the remnants of his earlier sorrow still showed on his face.

“You can stay over.”

“No, it’s okay. Good night.”

With that, Matsuoka left. Alone, Hiromatsu felt a mix of loneliness and guilt. It was Christmas, his birthday. Matsuoka had treated him to an expensive Japanese meal. After dinner, they wanted to drink more, but everywhere was crowded. Waiting was a hassle, and it was cold outside, so they decided to return to Hiromatsu’s apartment.

They had been enjoying drinks, chatting about the delicious meal and the drunken salaryman they saw on the way back... until the kiss.

He hadn’t rejected the kiss out of dislike. He had slept with Matsuoka once before, though he barely remembered it due to his drunken state. The rough feel of Matsuoka’s stubble on his chin had triggered an unexpected wave of repulsion.

Matsuoka had once dressed as a woman, deceiving him and confessing his sincere love. Hiromatsu couldn’t get him out of his mind. It bothered him so much that he broke up with the woman he was dating. He was now seeing Matsuoka on the premise of “I think I can grow to love you.”

He thought he had accepted Matsuoka as a man. But his reaction tonight showed he wasn’t acting like someone in love.

Deep down, Hiromatsu had realized. He had been seeing Matsuoka frequently for over a month. He enjoyed Matsuoka’s company, and despite being tongue-tied, he could talk freely with him. Their time together created a comfortable space. But there was no intense passion. Unlike when he was infatuated with Matsuoka’s female persona, Yoko Eto, and couldn’t sleep at night, there was no feverish excitement.

Matsuoka was waiting for Hiromatsu to decide. He didn’t push or rush, just quietly observing from the sidelines. Tonight, he had let loose a bit, and Hiromatsu had rejected him in the worst way, letting him leave without trying to make amends.

Hiromatsu pulled out his phone. He wanted to send a message but didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t write that he pushed Matsuoka away because his goatee felt gross. Maybe he should say he was just startled... but no matter how he phrased it, Matsuoka would likely apologize.

He fell asleep again, unable to decide what to write, and woke up to find a message from Matsuoka: “Sorry for getting carried away last night. I had too much to drink.” It was a simple apology. Hiromatsu felt awkward digging into it and simply replied, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry too.”

That had been the night of December 24, his birthday.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The trees lining the street had shed their leaves, their thin, dark brown branches swaying in the cold wind. As he walked towards the subway station, Matsuoka pulled up his coat collar and shrugged.

“Enough already,” Matsuoka said, shaking his head. “You’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ ten times. I don’t mind waiting, so don’t worry about it.”

His breath was white in the cold air. February had arrived, the coldest time of the year. It had snowed the past two days, though it hadn’t accumulated. Even with gloves, his fingers were numb.

Their meeting was set for 7 PM. Normally, that would have given them plenty of time, but tonight, Hiromatsu was unexpectedly asked to work overtime. He figured an hour would suffice and emailed Matsuoka to ask if they could meet later. Matsuoka agreed, so they postponed their meeting by an hour. That had seemed like a good plan.

Hiromatsu and a clerk were the ones assigned the extra work. They divided the tasks and finished in about an hour. But since the clerk wasn’t done, Hiromatsu stayed to help. They discovered a calculation error in the spreadsheet. Upon rechecking, they found it was a simple mistake by the clerk. Realizing this before submission was a relief, but when the clerk started correcting it, the computer froze. Watching this, Hiromatsu’s mind went blank.

After restarting, they found that the unsaved data was lost. They had to recreate everything from the last backup. Time ticked by, and they finally finished after 9 PM.

The Koishikawa Research Institute, where Hiromatsu worked, was on the outskirts of town, notoriously inconvenient. The train didn’t run nearby, and the last bus left around 7 PM. He had resigned himself to taking a taxi, but the clerk felt responsible and drove him to the train station.

He met Matsuoka just before 10 PM. Their usual izakaya closed at 10:30, and they didn’t know of any nearby alternatives. Matsuoka looked at him and asked, “How about ramen?” He mentioned a good ramen stall nearby. At this point, Hiromatsu was fine with anything, so he followed Matsuoka.

The warmth of the ramen spread through his chilled body. Though it was his first time at a food stall, the unpretentious atmosphere reminded him of their usual izakaya, making him feel comfortable. The ramen alone wasn't enough, so they also had some oden and beer. Matsuoka seemed to love the eggs, ordering them repeatedly until the stall owner said there were no more. Despite having eaten so many, Matsuoka humorously lamented, "What a shame," making Hiromatsu chuckle quietly.

Despite the overtime and various troubles, the ramen, oden, and beer made them feel distant. He rested his chin on his hand, watching Matsuoka banter with the stall owner and finding himself smiling along with him.

They left the stall in good spirits. The station was nearby, but feeling warm, they walked to the next station while chatting. The cold wind gradually brought back the chill, making him feel guilty for making Matsuoka wait nearly two hours. He apologized again.

“Did you really count the ten times I apologized?” He asked, and Matsuoka turned to him, narrowing his eyes with a grin.

“I lied.”

“You’re so unreliable.”

“But you did apologize that many times.”

Walking beside him, Matsuoka hummed a winter song. He tried to recall who sang it, but the song soon faded, and Matsuoka looked up at the sky.

“Do you think it will snow tonight? The weather forecast hinted at it.”

He brought his fingers to his mouth and blew on them.

“Aren’t you wearing gloves?”

“I left them at the office.”

His red fingers bothered Hiromatsu. He took off his gloves and offered them. They were a gift from Matsuoka and had become a favorite for their warmth and practicality. Matsuoka glanced at the gloves but didn’t take them.

“No, if I take them, you’ll be cold.”

“But I'm worried about you.”

They stood still, staring at each other's hands. Neither of them budged. Then Matsuoka said, “Okay, let’s split them,” and took just one glove.

“Is half enough?”

For some reason, he chuckled softly, wearing one glove and stuffing the other hand in his coat pocket. He started walking briskly.

Near the station, they saw a middle-aged man in a suit lying on a crosswalk. He was over fifty, with thinning hair. A police officer crouched beside him, asking, “What’s your name? Address?” The man, lying down, slurred, “Leave me alone, dammit.” His face was flushed, and the smell of alcohol wafted strongly. He had clearly drunk too much. It was probably fortunate the police found him; sleeping outside in this cold could be dangerous.

After passing the man, Matsuoka glanced back.

“I wonder if he had a bad day.”

“Seemed like it,” Hiromatsu agreed. Matsuoka let out a thin sigh.

“By the way, our company's performance has been sluggish. They're planning significant budget cuts and will let some people go at the end of the fiscal year. It's supposed to be those over fifty, so it shouldn't affect us.”

“We haven’t heard anything like that.”

“Research fields might be different… By the way, Hayama’s leaving the company in March.”

Hiromatsu turned to him in surprise, meeting his gaze. “Why?”

“She’s getting married.”

Hiromatsu stopped in my tracks.

“She had a matchmaking meeting in November, and things moved quickly. The wedding’s in July, but she’s leaving in March to prepare.”

Hiromatsu dated Hayama until October. She confessed to him, and they started dating, though he was still hung up on Yoko Eto, Matsuoka’s cross-dressing persona. He thought being with someone new who loved him might help him forget Yoko.

Ultimately, Hiromatsu broke up with her, so he had no right to say anything about her finding a new partner or getting married. But it hadn’t been long, and the memories were still fresh, leaving him surprised and bewildered.

“Maybe women can move on quickly,” Hiromatsu muttered to myself. Matsuoka responded indifferently, “Maybe,” and started walking again. Following him, Hiromatsu thought about the person he dated four months ago. She said she loved him, but now she’s marrying someone else. It seemed too fast. Was she always this quick to change? He wondered, realizing people’s feelings change. Even while dating Hayama, he developed feelings for Matsuoka. The arrogance of assuming love is a special, unchanging emotion embarrassed him.

“Hayama is a good cook and very domestic. She’ll make a great wife,” he said, catching up to Matsuoka.

“Was she that good at cooking?”

“I think so. She often made curry and gratin.”

After a pause, Matsuoka mumbled, “I’m good at making curry too.”

“When I first started working, I cooked for myself. I make seafood curry with lots of seafood or mushroom curry with cheese.”

“You put cheese in curry?”

“It’s pretty good. People who’ve tried it liked it.”

“Wow…”

Mushroom curry with cheese sounded incredibly rich.

“I’ll make it for you next time you come over.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d like that.”

Hiromatsu’s enthusiastic reply made Matsuoka chuckle. Embarrassed by his childlike eagerness, he looked down.

“Hiromatsu-san, you’re funny.”

Matsuoka started humming again, then stopped as they reached the station. He handed back the glove. “See you later,” he said, heading to the right platform. Hiromatsu’s train was on the left. As his train arrived, he saw Matsuoka waving from the opposite platform.

After the train turned the corner, he sat down with a sigh.

He enjoyed eating with Yosuke Matsuoka. Since becoming a working adult, he hadn’t found someone he got along with so well. They had dinner together once or twice a week and spent alternate weekends together. They’d go for drives, watch movies, or just laze around watching videos. He cherished these calm, comfortable times.

Last Christmas, on his birthday, he had dinner with Matsuoka and received a birthday present. He tried to refuse, saying Matsuoka didn’t need to go to any trouble, but he insisted, “It’s nothing expensive.” It was a watch with a beautiful blue dial, simple and easy to use. Despite Hiromatsu’s initial refusal, he liked it at first sight.

“I heard you lost your watch,” Matsuoka said softly. The meal was delicious, the present wonderful, and the conversation enjoyable. It was a delightful birthday. Maybe that’s why, when it was time to leave the restaurant, Hiromatsu wanted to spend more time with Matsuoka. But it was Christmas, and all the nearby places were crowded.

“Do you want to come over for a drink?” Hiromatsu had suggested. They bought canned beer and chuhai at a convenience store and drank at his apartment. He forgot what they talked about, but they laughed a lot. He remembered asking Matsuoka when his birthday was to return the favor, but he brushed it off, saying, “I don’t need anything.”

As the time for the last train approached, Matsuoka glanced at his watch and murmured, “What should I do?” It was Hiromatsu who suggested, “You can stay over.” … And then he impulsively pushed Matsuoka away when he tried to kiss him.

Hiromatsu thought the incident was resolved when they both apologized over email, but there was a subtle change. The frequency of Matsuoka’s emails noticeably decreased. Hiromatsu wondered if it was because of that incident, but since he didn’t stop emailing altogether and both of them were busy over the holidays, Hiromatsu tried not to dwell on it.

Hiromatsu returns to the countryside every year for the New Year, so he came back on January 3rd and met Matsuoka that day. It had been nearly ten days since they last saw each other on Christmas.

To avoid the crowded area around the station, they arranged to meet at a park near a shrine in the early afternoon. Hiromatsu arrived at the park ten minutes early to find Matsuoka already there, waiting.

Hiromatsu still remember the look on Matsuoka’s face at that moment. Though he wore a smile, his eyes seemed as if he had seen something frightening.

“Hey, long time no see.”

Even his voice seemed to tremble slightly.

“Oh, yeah. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all. I just got here.”

“Since it’s cold, how about we grab something warm to drink first?” Hiromatsu suggested, leading Matsuoka to a nearby coffee shop. There were a few girls in kimonos inside the shop.

“What did you do for New Year’s, Matsuoka-san?”

Matsuoka, who had been clutching his coffee cup with both hands, flinched and slowly looked up.

“Oh, nothing much. Just lazed around at home…”

“Same here. I always imagined you’d be out doing some sport.”

“I never invited you to do anything like that, did I?”

“I thought maybe you were refraining because I’m not into those activities.”

Matsuoka chuckled softly.

“I actually prefer staying at home. I’m always out and about for work.”

That made sense. Salespeople are notoriously busy, and many end up sick from the stress. Hiromatsu’s former boss, Fukuda, used to say sales was an easy job, but Hiromatsu never believed it. Matsuoka once mentioned his shoes don’t even last a year. In the general affairs department, they never experienced such wear and tear.

“I love hot springs. Just soaking in a bath and doing nothing else is heaven.”

“I like hot springs too.”

Matsuoka seemed about to say something but then abruptly closed his mouth. Curious, Hiromatsu continued. “When I was a student, I often went to the local public bath. My apartment had a bath, but sometimes I just wanted to soak in a big one.”

“Public baths are different from hot springs, though.”

Matsuoka pointed it out, and Hiromatsu realized his mistake.

“You’re right. But I just love big baths.”

“Pretty laid-back,” Matsuoka laughed, finally relaxing. After a while, they left the shop and visited the shrine for the first prayer of the New Year. By the time they headed home, Matsuoka was back to his usual cheerful self.

After that day, the frequency of Matsuoka’s emails returned to normal, and he resumed inviting Hiromatsu to dinner and outings as before. Matsuoka never mentioned it, but Hiromatsu realized he must have been deeply affected by the Christmas kiss incident.

…The train jerked as it arrived at Hiromatsu’s station. As he stepped onto the platform, a wave of cold air engulfed him. He buried his nose in his scarf and quickened his pace. The late hour meant few people were out.

Passing by a house with a dense garden, he jumped when a dog barked loudly at him. It was a daily occurrence, yet Hiromatsu never got used to it and chuckled at the predictability. Hiromatsu loved this repetitive routine. He didn’t need more than this. He was content with his relationship with Matsuoka as it was.

Hiromatsu disliked conflict and rarely argued back. Because of this, some people mistakenly thought they could say anything to him. They wouldn’t be as blunt with others but felt free to be with him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t hurt by it, and once an image of someone was formed, it was hard to change it. His position at work often made him a convenient outlet for others, and the root of it lay in Hiromatsu’s inability to choose his words wisely. It was his fault. Even knowing this, he couldn’t change. … Men tend to be more blunt. Women are more considerate.

Matsuoka was straightforward, but his words always made sense, and Hiromatsu never felt hurt by them. Matsuoka was always considerate of him. … He was a kind man.

If Matsuoka were in trouble, Hiromatsu would want to help him. He’d do anything for him. But honestly, even though Hiromatsu cherished him, he couldn’t imagine having a physical relationship with him as he did with Yoko Eto.

Hiromatsu broke up with his girlfriend, thinking he might fall for Matsuoka. Now that he had his answer, he couldn’t tell Matsuoka he just wanted to stay friends. He knew Matsuoka liked him. He was always a kind friend, but his occasional glances burned with a slow intensity.

Couldn’t Matsuoka’s feelings cool down? Couldn’t they remain friends, even after the romantic feelings faded? Couldn’t they stay friends, have drinks together even after they got married?

Hiromatsu sighed at the dark sky. His breath dispersed into the cold night air, and the chill stung his lungs.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

That day, just before the end of the workday, Hiromatsu was summoned to the office manager’s desk. The expression on the other man’s face was grimmer than usual, and Hiromatsu instantly sensed it was something bad. He tried to think what he might have done wrong, and the documents he had stayed late to finish the other night came to mind. He had done a final check, but had been in a hurry—maybe he’d missed something. Typos were one thing, but he was sure he had double-checked the numbers again and again…

“Could you come with me for a moment?”

The office manager led him to a small conference room next door. He wasn’t the type to choose the place for a scolding, which only made Hiromatsu tilt his head in confusion. After entering first, the manager told Hiromatsu, who had followed him in, to “close the door.” Whatever the subject was, he clearly didn’t want anyone to overhear.

“You’ve been at Koishikawa for almost a year now, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

A short silence followed. Though he was standing directly in front of him, the office manager avoided meeting his gaze. The man, who was turning fifty this year, had apparently been demoted to Koishikawa after a mishap with a major project at headquarters—so one of the older clerks had told him.

“When you were assigned here last year, I thought, ‘Here we go again, another useless one from HQ.’ Most of the transfers we get from there are either unmotivated or just questionable as human beings. But you… well, you’re not exactly quick on the job, but you don’t make mistakes, and you’re diligent. It’d been a while since we’d had someone decent, and I was glad.”

“Thank you,” Hiromatsu replied, shoulders loosening as the tension that had gripped them finally released. It wasn’t bad news, after all—or so it seemed.

“Before you came, I received your evaluation from your supervisor and HR at headquarters, and let me tell you—it was awful. That’s why I was wary at first. But despite what it said, you’ve been earnest and responsible. I couldn’t understand why you were rated so poorly. Did you have some kind of personal issue with your boss back there?”

Fukuda’s face flickered across his mind, but Hiromatsu simply answered, “No, not particularly.” The office manager responded with a “I see,” rubbing his chin with a thumb.

“Well, I submitted my own evaluation of you, and I stand by it as fair.”

Where was this going? Hiromatsu couldn’t tell. The manager let out a deep breath.

“Personnel decisions came down.”

His heart jumped. The tone and flow of the conversation made it clear his evaluation had improved. Maybe they were calling him back to headquarters, to general affairs.

“As of the end of March, we’ll be asking you to leave the company.”

“…What?”

His mind went blank. His lips trembled; no words came. Leave the company… so this was a dismissal?

The manager furrowed his brows, his expression pained.

“I’d heard headquarters had started urging staff over fifty to take early retirement, but you’re still in your thirties. I honestly don’t know what they’re thinking.”

Still with arms crossed, he sighed again.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

Hiromatsu clenched his fists. Cold sweat gathered under his arms.

“Uh… I mean… telling me to just up and leave so suddenly…”

“I understand it’s a shock,” the manager said, his eyes filled with a look of sympathy. “But this is the company’s decision. If you want to contest it, you could try going directly to upper management—but you’ll just end up bitter, and nothing will change. I’ll admit, I think this round of HR decisions is pretty cruel. I’ll at least try to negotiate something with them so you get a better deal on your severance.”

So it really wasn’t a joke. He was being forced out. The reality of it rose from beneath his feet like an encroaching tide.

“But hey, compared to the guys in their forties and fifties, you’re still young and single. You’ve got plenty of time to start over. I wanted to give you time to prepare, which is why I’m telling you now—but the official announcement won’t be until March 25th. Until then, keep it to yourself.”

Still in shock, Hiromatsu stood frozen as the office manager gave his shoulder a pat.

"Just because you’re being let go from the company doesn’t mean your life is over. Don’t let it get you down too much."

With those words, the office manager left the small conference room. Left behind, Hiromatsu collapsed into the nearest chair. Both Matsuoka and the manager had said that the layoffs were targeting employees over fifty. So why had he been singled out?

He had known, of course, that being transferred from headquarters to Koishikawa Research Center—despite not being a researcher—had essentially been a demotion. But he’d believed that if he continued working diligently, one day they’d transfer him back. Instead of being brought back, he was being cut. Labeled as unnecessary. Stamped with the mark of redundancy.

He was well aware that he wasn’t someone who got through work in record time. He wasn’t particularly efficient. Even so, he had always done his best, taken things seriously in his own way. But that hadn’t been enough. It meant he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t competent. That’s what being unnecessary really meant. Thirteen years of working for the company—all denied in one stroke.

His evaluation at headquarters had been "terrible," the manager had said. It was true that he had never gotten along with Fukuda, his former supervisor. But he’d had other bosses before who’d pushed blame downward or made unreasonable demands. Fukuda wasn’t unique.

Still, Hiromatsu had felt that he was being treated more harshly than necessary. Maybe it had been personal, and Fukuda had let personal feelings cloud his evaluation. But would someone in a leadership position really do something like that based solely on a grudge? What if—what if…? As the thoughts spiraled, a painful pressure squeezed in his chest and his mind darkened. He didn’t want to hate someone over something he couldn’t prove. He wanted to believe that wasn’t the case.

Then why was he being let go?

Because he was inadequate. Because he wasn’t capable. Because he couldn’t do his job. Because the company didn’t need him.

Beaten down by his own thoughts, Hiromatsu felt himself sink deeper and deeper into a pit without bottom. He couldn’t even muster the strength to stand up from the chair for some time.

He couldn’t quite recall how he’d made it back to his apartment. After returning to the office briefly, he had followed the lead of colleagues staying late and sat at his desk, but he had no memory of moving his hands or his brain actually working.

Before he knew it, he was sitting dazed on the tatami floor, still wearing his coat. The room, without the heater on, was freezing. His stomach growled, but he didn’t have the energy to go out and buy anything.

I’m being laid off.

The cold, brutal reality made him cradle his head in his hands. He couldn’t tell his parents. He was too ashamed to admit that he was being let go for being incompetent. His family had never been well off, but when he’d said he wanted to go to university in Tokyo, they hadn’t uttered a word of complaint and let him go. When he’d landed a job at a fairly well-known company, they’d been overjoyed. Even when he only made it back for New Year’s and Obon, they’d always said, “Well, big companies are busy, after all,” and forgave him. And now, this. He didn’t want them to think their son had turned out to be such a failure.

Even after getting pushed out of the company come April, he couldn’t go home. Didn’t want to go home. He had to find a new job here in Tokyo. But he hadn’t done job hunting since college, and now he had no idea where to start. A job information magazine? Hello Work? The uncertainty only worsened his anxiety.

In the freezing room, the sound of a new message echoed out. Moving sluggishly, he pulled his phone from his bag. It was from Matsuoka. “You finished work? I’m on my way home now. Tomorrow at 7, the usual place okay?” it said.

Oh, right. They’d made plans to get dinner tomorrow. Matsuoka always sent a message the day before, just to confirm. His work schedule occasionally shifted, so it was routine.

It was a perfectly ordinary, harmless message. And yet, in light of what had happened, it looked gaudily cheerful and out of place. It irritated him, irrationally so.

Matsuoka didn’t know a thing. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Even knowing that, Hiromatsu didn’t feel like replying. He turned off his phone. Right now, he didn’t want to deal with anyone.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Twice, Hiromatsu had turned down Matsuoka’s invitation, lying that he was coming down with a cold. They had talked about going to the movies over the weekend, but he had postponed that too, citing the same excuse and pushing it to the following week.

It wasn’t as if he had anything in particular to do after declining. He just spent his time zoning out in his apartment, or staring blankly at the TV…

The day he received the news, he had been so shaken he could barely eat. The following day at work, he made careless mistakes one after another, but the office manager didn’t scold him. Even when he could have easily been called over and chewed out, all he received was a quiet “Well, just be careful.” And the fact that this leniency likely came from pity for someone being let go only made him feel more wretched.

But about a week after being informed of the layoff, his emotions began to settle. He found himself accepting his own inadequacies and starting to believe he couldn’t stay as he was. Of course, once he left the company, his income would drop to zero. The manager had told him in advance, probably so he could begin looking for a new job sooner. And so, Hiromatsu began seriously considering reemployment.

On Saturday afternoon, he sat cross-legged on the floor, arms folded in front of a blank résumé and a job listing site displayed on his phone. He wasn’t quick on the uptake, and he wasn’t good with people—clearly, sales wasn’t for him. If possible, he wanted something clerical, something that wouldn’t involve too much interaction. There were a few listings that fit his conditions, but all paid significantly less than his current job. Still, he tried to accept that as inevitable and began filling out his résumé.

That’s when it hit him: after spending more than a decade working solely in clerical roles, he had no certifications to speak of. He had very little to offer in terms of qualifications.

Maybe a vocational school, or some online course? But now that he was starting the job hunt, there wasn’t time for that. He focused instead on finishing the résumé, but while copying a sample, he made a mistake. He tried correcting it with white-out, but it looked sloppy. That kind of sloppiness would probably leave a bad impression with whoever read it. Hiromatsu crumpled up the ruined résumé and tossed it in the bin, then flopped down on the tatami.

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