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Prologue: November 16th (Thursday)
What can be said about Shinobu Nakata?
He's Japanese through and through, and currently a 32-year-old man.
He works as a government employee, and is the head of the First Support Section at the ward office's Welfare and Daily Life Divison.
He's tall and lean, with hair that just brushes his eyes.
He has a trademark scowl that doesn't show a trace of kindness.
Despite his beady eyes, his double eyelids give him a somewhat cute appearance. He lives alone, and has no romantic partner.
When describing Shinobu Nakata, words like honest, cold, serious, righteous, stubborn, rational, empathetic, and responsible, are inadequate to fully describe his true nature.
But if one were to try to sum him up in words, Shinobu is a man that is fiercely loyal to his own beliefs, is quick-witted, and intelligent.
A decade has passed since graduating from university and setting sail into society.
There have been various troubles along the way.
Inside the constraints of society.
there are moments where one has to bow their head.
In order to deal with the bitter and unreasonable treatment from the world.
Shinobu posesses an aggressive rotational force that sweeps everything along its path.
It's Thursday, November 16th. 7:30 a.m.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Shinobu Nakata clocks in at the same time every morning after arriving at work.
Never late, never absent, never leaving early; he doesn’t take any personal holidays and always arrives in an immaculate suit.
Even as the personnel department pushes for business casual office attire, he steadfastly arrives in a suit everyday.
This is one of the reasons he is secretly called the Demon King, the reptile, the mechanical lifeform, and sometimes half mockingly, the Sub-Section Chief.
Morning.
Ah, good morning, Chief Nakata.
Uh, good morning, Chief Nakata.
Oh, good morning, Chief Nakata.
Although office hours begin from 8:30 AM, several young employees have already arrived at the office.
Before Shinobu appears, the office has a friendly atmosphere. Everyone engages in small talk while getting settled in, cleaning their work stations, and organizing documents for the day.
But astonishingly, as soon as Shinobu arrives, all casual chatter ceases immediately. The space turns reticent and reserved, and everyone works in silence.
It is before official hours, so Shinobu doesn’t really mind the casual chattering. In fact, he is quite tolerant of it. This has been the routine ever since he became the Sub-Section Chief.
But, even though he's tolerant, he doesn't exactly encourage the workers to engage in small talk either.
Without saying anything, Shinobu walks straight to the Division Chief’s desk.
Good morning, Chief.
Ah, 'morning.
Shinobu has never felt any value in mere formalities.
Arriving at work precisely an hour before work officially starts is intended for him to prepare and handle any unexpected calls. It had nothing to do with trying to one-up his boss, or to keep track of who comes in late.
Shinobu, I'm counting on you today as well.
You got it.
The chief, who understands Shinobu well, keeps the conversation brief on purpose.
Noting that there is no special notices for the day, Shinobu turns on his heel and heads to his desk.
Seizing the moment of his absence, most of the young staff escape the office space to begin their day's tasks elsewhere.
It is what it is.
The atmosphere around Shinobu is so toxic, he can feel his life force slowly being drained out of him. If he could minimize his time in the office, he would.
Good morning, Mr. Nakata.
Morning, Ms. Ichinose.
Amidst all of this, one young woman stands out. She is tall, and has striking, round, cat-like eyes.
Her glossy black hair, styled up for ease during work, shone under the bright office lights.
In her rib-knit sweater and slim pants, confidence and allure radiates from her poised posture.
Yuna Ichinose, 26, is a member of the Welfare and Daily Life Division.
With a serene smile, she offers him a steaming mug of coffee.
I appreciate it, but you don't need to make coffee for me.
It's just a token of my gratitude for all you do, Mr. Nakata.
Times have changed. I've told you that before.
Times and traditions don't matter. If I can get your attention for as little as a cup of coffee, I'll brew it for you everyday!
Is that so?
Yes. Perhaps I'm just being selfish, but won't you at least take a sip?
. . . Alright. Thank you.
Yuna's eyes sparkle, while Shinobu's are dull and lifeless.
In the past, many juniors have tried—and failed—to establish a morning coffee ritual with Shinobu, now keeping their distance unless absolutely necessary for work. Yuna, however, had managed to skillfully navigate through Shinobu's daunting presence and succeeded in making morning coffee a daily event.
Because of Yuna's success in this area, the new staff looked up to her and strove to match her dedication to create a harmonious atmosphere in the section.
Of course, Shinobu's demeanor isn't the result of any sinister calculation on his part. In Shinobu's honor, it should be added that the success of this outcome was mostly due to Yuna's persistence and effort.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
The Welfare and Daily Life Divison handles all matters related to the local welfare assistance program in the city.
Shinobu leads the First Support Team, consisting of caseworkers like Yuna, who directly support and guide households in achieving economic and social independence, as well as achieving independent living for people living with disabilities.
The work is naturally demanding, with about half the staff rushing off to meetings with welfare recipients after a brief morning assembly, and the rest bustling with paperwork each day.
However, it's somewhat unusual that no casual conversation or even necessary business talk can be heard in the office.
Of course, the main reason for this, is none other than the head of the First Support Division . . . our very own Shinobu Nakata.
While he's not overly strict with others, he is exceedingly so with himself.
When he is working, Shinobu's concentration is nothing short of phenomenal.
Yet, if his colleagues or subordinates need him, he readily offers solutions, ranging from standard procedures to unconventional approaches to solve their problems.
However, given his intense focus, few dare to approach him during these moments.
Even Yuna avoids disturbing him, unless absolutely necessary.
In short, initiating a conversation with Shinobu is a rare event within the First Support Section and, by extension, the entire Welfare and Daily Living Division. On the occasional instance it occurs, it draws the attention of every member of staff.
Uh, excuse me, Chief Nakata.
Today's protagonist is Akane Horiuchi, age 22, the youngest member of the First Support Section.
She is a petite girl with a stooped posture, curly short hair, and a soft demeanor that makes her seem rather timid.
Akane, who seems to have kindness as her only virtue, stands before Shinobu with a troubled expression.
What's the matter, Ms. Horiuchi?
Could you please check these documents?
Akane hands over a stack of documents about fifty pages thick.
The first page relates to the reapplication for welfare benefits.
Did you also prepare the inoperable medical detail receipts?
. . .
Without answering and still looking down, Akane watches as Shinobu pushes the documents back without flipping through a single page.
I've taken action on this matter myself and have decided that termination is appropriate. I must have told you directly, and several times, not to reissue to Number 174.
Why . . . why is that?
Akane asks, barely squeezing the words out.
The surrounding staff has subtly stopped their work, and are now watching the interaction between the two unfold.
I have identified fraudulent claims. Is there a need for any other reason?
There is almost no emotion in Shinobu’s tone, not even a hint of coldness or sharpness.
At most, it's like answering "That's fine" when asked if it's okay to receive a large amount of change in the form of one-thousand-yen bills.
Number 174 is capable of working, and actually secures over two hundred thousand yen a month, yet he was receiving the full amount of welfare benefits.
. . . Right.
I've explained why it wasn't discovered until now, and how it was discovered at this time.
. . .
Akane Horiuchi remains silent.
Even though she understands the situation, she finds herself at a loss for words.
It's because there were false declarations.
Shinobu continues on, not waiting for Akane’s reply.
During a temporary inquiry I conducted, I noticed suspicious aspects in the recipient’s living conditions, which led to a re-investigation. It was discovered that he was using bank accounts under another person’s name to pool money earned from day labor at construction sites, evading the bank's investigation.
The welfare system is meant to protect the lives of citizens who might not be doing so well. It decides the provision of benefits after appropriate scrutiny.
If these citizens have assets that can be liquidated, like significant savings, it's only reasonable to require them to use those savings for living expenses first, making it inevitably harder for them to make use of the welfare system for their own benefit.
Basically, if one can secure a steady income necessary for living, there's no need for them to receive any welfare.
However, there are certainly people who are blinded by the prospect of receiving over one hundred thousand yen per month, including rent subsidies and generous assistance, and they resort to unjust means to enjoy these benefits.
Such malicious "welfare recipients" are distinguished as "fraudulent claimants" in the Welfare and Daily Life Division.
It is paramount for the division staff not only to guide good-hearted recipients towards healthy independence, but to also catch and eradicate various forms of welfare fraud—from minor errors, to serious crimes.
Having identified this fact, I was considering submitting a police report for fraudulent claims under Article 78 of the Welfare Law, and demanding the collection of the fraudulently obtained benefits. However, due to your plea, I've suspended the payments, demanded a relocation to housing that fits the living standard, and a concrete repayment plan under Article 63. I've explained this before. You understand that, right?
. . . Yes.
If you have understood that, tell me why you created this document.
. . .
Considering the underlying principle of the Welfare Law and recent public opinion, the organization has shown some understanding towards the 'pay first, scrutinize later' approach. If you are troubled by the resentment from the fraudulent claimants, then—
. . . You don't understand anything, Chief.
Akane's resolute spirit evoked varied reactions from the staff. Some were trying to encourage her in the face of powerlessness.
Some of them were watching the unfolding events with bated breath.
Some were watching with a sympathetic and pitiful gaze.
Some were even looking on with a mixture of astonishment and disapproval.
There were various other reactions.
But what they all had in common was that none of them were intending to intervene or speak up.
Nor were they trying to discern which side was right.
For them, the correct answer was already clear.
So you think I am wrong?
But isn't that true? You don't even know Mr. Muto's name.
The welfare fraudster's name is Tatsuyuki Muto, 54-years-old at the time of the fraud's discovery. He lives in Gunma Prefecture with his divorced wife, and a 17-year-old daughter who refuses to see him. He explained that the fraud was to help with his daughter's school fees, but in reality, it stemmed from a spending addiction which has also led to his divorce, and an increase in alcohol and tobacco use, as well as a gambling habit to cope with his stress. After being coached by his colleagues at the construction site, he resorted to this fraud.
Akane's face blanches.
And it's no wonder.
Because all the details that Shinobu had recited from memory are perfectly accurate.
While there seems to be a fact of tuition being sent, the welfare system is not meant to assist parental pride. Through a diagnostic meeting, the Division decided to suspend payments. Therefore, the termination is both my personal judgment and the conclusion reached by the organization.
Shinobu, still sitting at his desk, looks up pointedly at Akane standing beside him.
All I know about case Number 174 ends here.
If you know that much, why do you still refer to it as Number 174?
It's because this is the 174th case of fraudulent claims we've handled this year.
Chief, that's not right. It just isn't. After all, we are . . .
Before she could stop herself . . .
Tears begin to spill from Akane's eyes.
Aren't we supposed to be dealing with living, breathing humans?
Indeed.
Shinobu is looking straight at Akane, who didn’t even bother to wipe away her flowing tears, his face void of emotion.
I am Mr. Muto's caseworker. No matter what decisions you or the office make, I've thought long and hard about how to support him until the very end.
. . .
Shinobu fell silent for a moment.
It was clear that he was neither overwhelmed, nor particularly affected by the conversation that they were having.
Mr. Muto has become quite withdrawn, that's what the neighbors receiving benefits have told me.
Ah.
Sure, Mr. Muto indulges a bit in alcohol, cigarettes, and gambling . . . He's just a little bit irresponsible.
Indeed.
But still, he's trying his best, struggling in his own way.
Is that so?
If his benefits are cut off now, he might lose the will to even keep his job . . .
If he has committed sins, he must bear the consequences himself.
Suddenly—
Akane shudders slightly.
. . . Sins?
He's exploited the law and administrative integrity, skimming from taxes that honest taxpayers have paid painfully. Even if he evades criminal punishment, his fundamental guilt remains.
I just can't see it that way.
. . .
Everyone says Mr. Muto worked very hard, enduring tough, dirty, and dangerous jobs because of his daughter. Every day without rest, he did his best!!
Akane's tears continued to flow.
She was consumed with both fury and compassion.
Are Mr. Muto's intentions a crime? Are his desires a sin?
Shinobu doesn't answer.
There was no need to.
The answer that Akane sought was already within her.
You probably think it's all just indulgence, Chief. No one will understand, no matter who I tell among the citizens. But I know.
Yet, Akane does not stop.
Even if the nation, public opinion, the system, and Shinobu Nakata himself obstructs her ideals.
Akane Horiuchi is steadfast.
Isn't welfare support our last bastion to ensure the minimum standard of living for the citizens?
. . .
No matter what anyone else says, if we stop extending our hands in the end, doesn't everything just come to an end? Why won't you try to do anything? Why do you say we can't help?
If it really is impossible to help, then what is our job even for, Chief?!
Akane, who usually never raises her voice, cried out.
Perhaps even she does not know.
Even so.
Akane is truly kind.
And that is why Shinobu Nakata says.
Ms. Horiuchi.
. . . Yes?
We don't play around with tax money.
He decided to shatter Akane Horiuchi's kindness into pieces, as part of his duty.
. . . Wh- what?
Welfare support guarantees the maintenance of a healthy and culturally minimum standard of living. These should be equally provided to all citizens in need, and not for your personal satisfaction, or that of Mr. Muto.
My personal satisfaction . . . What do you mean by that?
Logically, if he wants to provide for his estranged daughter's education, he should do so within the bounds of a legitimate income. If that's not possible, he doesn't deserve to pay for her education.
Akane was at a loss for words.
At this point, some of the staff members decide to stop paying attention to the two of them, already foreseeing how this will unfold.
Moreover, if the money is obtained through fraudulent claims, it usually becomes a hassle for the recipients, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t your job have been to guide Mr. Muto in finding legitimate ways to finance his daughter's tuition, stabilize his own living foundation, and establish a pathway for appropriate and feasible assistance?
Shinobu spoke plainly.
He didn't speak hurriedly nor in a harsh tone, but matter-of-factly.
Far from blaming him, you used your position as a caseworker to shield Mr. Muto’s right to pursue happiness and incited me, and by extension, the office, to grant him undue welfare benefits. If this isn’t just a game to satisfy your sense of chivalry, then what is it? I’d like you to tell me.
I . . . I just wanted to help those in need. That's why I took this job.
So you can decide who deserves to be saved, and who doesn't?
That's . . . not what I meant . . .
Sure it is. That's all just ego.
Shinobu’s frank words pierced into Akane’s heart sharply.
The joy of saving, the pain of rejection, and bearing even the ugliest parts with composure—that's the duty of those who work in welfare. If your goal is merely to satisfy your own heart and avoid reality, then what you’re doing is no longer public service. It should be a private affair, done on your own time and within your own means.
. . .
Akane’s tears had stopped at some point.
Now, it was being replaced with a dark hostility and an indignation towards herself that she cannot express, even if she wields it like a sword.
No further explanation is necessary. Please shred the documents.
Akane silently received the returned documents.
Without showing any displeasure or anger, Shinobu indifferently added.
Ah, sorry, Ms. Horiuchi, but could I ask you for one more thing?
Akane’s expression, which had been gloomy, now twists in shock and confusion.
With a look that said, "After humiliating me in front of everyone like this, you still expect me to do something more for you, when all I want to do is run off to the restroom or the rooftop to cry my eyes out in frustration?"
Earlier in our conversation, we discussed the current situation of Case Number 174. Could you make a list of all the recipients who reported being depressed?
Huh?
After the exposure of fraudulent claims, there's a trend where these incidents are used as explanations for developing depressive symptoms, thereby rendering them unable to work and attempting to reapply for benefits. We need to grasp the details promptly to assess the situation.
Shinobu’s eyes pierced through Akane.
It was too intense of a look to be called vacant, but too emotionless to be called sharp. It was a dry gaze.
Can I count on you to do that task?
. . .
Akane didn’t respond.
She couldn't respond.
If you say you're not playing around, then I’d like you to start working for the sake of the citizens from now on.
Despite the sharp comment, Shinobu’s tone remained even, and as usual, devoid of emotion.
But it meant that if Akane refused, there wouldn’t be any blame.
And technnically, another staff member or Shinobu himself, could eventually resolve the matter.
But Shinobu was offering Akane a chance to redeem herself, an olive branch.
. . .
Whether Akane truly understands Shinobu’s intentions is unclear.
Yet bravely, Akane says.
. . . I can do that.
Then, I’m counting on you for this.
With that, Shinobu turns back to his desk.
Akane returns to her desk with unsteady steps.
The remaining staff members who had been paying attention to the situation subtly resumed their work, adhering to the only correct answer—non-interference.
It was the only natural thing to do.
Taking Shinobu's side could cause issues, as everything Shinobu had said was the brutal, honest truth.
There were no dreamers among the staff who would side with Akane, and anyone who half-heartedly defended her could end up having to look after her, creating more work for themselves in the end.
So, the wisest course of action for them was to remain distant, as uninvolved observers.
That was why no one intervened.
The office of the Welfare and Daily Life Division fell silent once more, just as it had been before.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
The same day, 9:57 p.m.
Long past the official end of the work day, a man works silently alone in the now-empty office.
Impeccably dressed in a wrinkle-free suit is Shinobu Nakata, Sub-Section Chief of the city's Welfare and Daily Life Division.
. . .
With the same furious concentration as he had during the day, he rapidly typed on the keyboard, scanning the documents beside him, and filled out the necessary information on the completed forms, stamping them as he goes.
Clink!
. . . Hmm?
He looks towards the sound and sees a hand on his desk, extending a mug towards him.
You’re quite diligent, aren’t you, Mr. Nakata?
. . .
Ignoring me is pretty harsh, don't you think? This morning you were all grateful and thankful. Some scatterbrain you are, Mr. Nakata. A merciless boss. I'll stuff your nostrils with rolled-up straws!
Holding a cup with both hands, there stands Yuna Ichinose, smiling as she dishes out these cold insults.
However, her smile isn't the serene one she had on during this morning's coffee ritual, but rather like that of a hunter who has just captured their prey, or a three-year-old in front of a box of tissues.
You should have clocked out. Entering the office out of hours is prohibited.
The only person who follows that rule to the letter is you, Mr. Nakata. I'm breaking it right now. Right now, neither of us are following it, anyway.
On what grounds do you say that?
Did you get permission for overtime?
. . . No.
Haha. See?
Yuna sits on a nearby chair, tilting her cup with a triumphant expression.
To be clear, she isn't a different person who just happens to share the same name, nor a twin or a look-alike, that has switched places with the daytime Yuna Ichinose. She is indeed the very same person.
As capable and considerate as she is, she plays a crucial role in bridging the gap between Shinobu, the almost robotic boss, and the human staff. However, when alone with Shinobu, an incredibly condescending attitude appears, a bad habit of hers.
Shinobu being a man of exceptional fairness, would relentlessly denounce anyone—be it a high-ranking boss or a subordinate from another department—if he knew they committed any wrongdoing, and never forgiving them until they had made amends.
On the other hand, those who do what is right are duly protected, and their minor impolitenesses are tolerated within the bounds of reason.
And yet, Yuna continues to push the limits of disrespect with Shinobu, never quite provoking him to genuine anger.
Although Shinobu can't fathom why Yuna behaves this way.
But being the person that he is, Shinobu Nakata wouldn't harass Yuna with his authority as the Sub-Section Chief, nor would he expose her misdemeanors to everyone, unlike what one might expect.
Therefore, he always tries sincerely to address her misconduct in secret.
This kind of attitude is really troublesome. I'm not asking you to sweet-talk me because I'm your boss, but could you at least show a minimum level of courtesy?
That's why I'm being polite, aren't I?
Hardly.
You're terrible, Shinobu Nakata. The epitome of harassment. Refined trash that fits corruption. Asking young women kiss your feet, just like some twisted local politician.
. . . Right. Talk however you want, just go home for today.
I refuse.
Clunk!
Shinobu casually looks up at the sound, as Yuna sets down her cup and is staring intently at him.
You were quite unusual today.
What are you talking about?
I'm talking about Akane. Your usual merciless scolding was there, but scolding her in front of everyone like that was really unlike you, Nakata.
If it were merely a reprimand, I would have avoided doing it in front of everyone, but what she needed was necessary guidance. Her distorted view of not treating welfare recipients as humans needed immediate correction.
Hm . . .
Yuna's expression darkens slightly.
In a good way.
From my perspective, the way Ms. Horiuchi handled that situation suggests that she considers all welfare recipients as incapable, pitiable beings who can't survive without help, almost like children or pets, and feels entitled to dictate their lives as a guardian.
Isn't that attitude sometimes necessary?
That's exactly why we need to really look at each situation.
. . .
Ordinary citizens are free to look at what they want, save who they wish, and help in the way they prefer. But we are different.
Each welfare recipient has their own unique qualities, which we must acknowledge. And sometimes we affirm or deny them, as part of our job, right?
. . . Indeed, that's what I taught.
That's the revered guidance of Chief Nakata. I've got it all in my head.
I'm honored.
With a dutiful response from Yuna, Shinobu nods with his usual stern face.
It's not just about integrity, sincerity, and wisdom. Laziness, cunning, and cruelty are also part of human nature that we, as welfare professionals, have to confront head-on. We have to properly assess the necessary aid after facing these, and only then do we have the right to interfere in someone's life.
Just to clear things up, in Shinobu's honor, he never intended to torment Akane.
He simply strives to fulfill his duties and convictions fairly and justly.
Ensuring that those who deserve, receive.
And that those who do not deserve are judged accordingly.
Even if everyone else in the department cleverly remains a bystander.
Shinobu Nakata, who is harsh on others and even harsher on himself, can't help but uphold these principles . . .
Turning her gaze away from Shinobu, Yuna stretches back in her chair.
Despite the subtly highlighted curves of her chest, Shinobu shows no interest.
You should have explained it that way to Akane. Confronting her directly might have convinced her on the spot.
Twisted or not, those are Ms. Horiuchi's convictions. It's only fair to let her decide when to bend them.
You're being too laid-back again. What if she just quits?
That might not be so bad. You know as well as I do that this isn't exactly a fun place to work at.
Are you serious?
Yes.
Huh . . .
With a playful expression, Yuna stands up and picks up some documents from Shinobu's desk.
These are the welfare recipients that Akane was supposed to handle, apart from the fraud cases, right? Why are you handling them instead, Shinobu?
I assigned her a different task. Considering her limited capabilities, it was impossible for her to manage both concurrently, so I took over temporarily.
As the head of the First Support Secton, Shinobu generally doesn't handle welfare recipients himself but oversees the entire sector.
Meanwhile, Article 16 of the Social Welfare Law stipulates that the standard number of households per caseworker in urban areas is approximately eighty, defining this as the appropriate value for a caseworker to manage effectively, and the public office staffs accordingly.
However, the number of welfare recipients tends to increase indefinitely, while the number of staff funded by taxes is limited. Even if employees resign or take time off, no additional personnel can be allocated.
So, what to do?
The answer is, there's not much that can be done.
Already overburdened caseworkers handle up to two hundred households, and even managers who typically wouldn't have caseloads step in to support the welfare recipients amidst this heavy workload.
Promising young workers stay away, and exhausted veterans flee one after another. The remaining staff's desperate efforts barely keep this sinking ship afloat, revealing the true state of the country's welfare system.
This time, however, it was merely Shinobu secretly helping out because Akane had been overly focused on case number 174, practically neglecting her other duties, which understandably left Yuna aghast.
Don't think you can deceive me.
I'm merely stating the facts.
Akane doesn't know about all the tasks you've taken on, does she? Nor does anyone else in the division, for that matter.
There's no need to report it. It doesn't matter who completes the work if it's all division business, does it?
Right. That's exactly what I wanted to hear.
With a cool expression, Yuna borrows the desk next to Shinobu and starts preparing for work.
I thought I told you to go home.
I declined, remember? I also heard that it doesn't matter who completes the work if it's all division business.
Ms. Ichinose, please don't make this difficult.
Then don't make it difficult. If everyone pretends not to see how much you're carrying, someone has to step in to balance things out, right?
I picked up this task believing I could handle it alone. There's no need to trouble you.
Then if we both work on it, we can finish it much faster, right? Or perhaps it would take longer with me around . . . no, forget I said that.
I mean, I don't mind, but what's up?
I just thought that maybe you really would finish faster on your own.
You're giving me too much credit. There's no reason that I'd perform better alone than with your help.
Then there's no problem. I'll help out on my own accord, and you can do as you please.
With that said, Yuna snatches up the documents from Shinobu's desk and starts working on them with her own initiative.
The fact that she starts without any discussion suggests that she had been preparing for this during the day.
You really are quite eccentric.
You're welcome.
After exchanging brief words, Shinobu turns his attention back to the computer screen.
There's no need to rush.
As impudent and moody as Yuna Ichinose may be, she is still his subordinate.
And today is Thursday, November 16th.
After four consecutive days of work, with yet another day of labor awaiting tomorrow, Thursday stands as the cruelest day of the week.
The duty to protect Yuna’s precious sleeping hours must be respected, as much as the duty to devote energy to the unfortunate welfare recipients and to regulate the malevolent fraudsters.
A loud, clattering sound of the keyboard startles Yuna.
The wave-like sound of typing emanates from Shinobu Nakata, the mechanical lifeform.
Hearing this, Yuna smiles contentedly, making sure he can see her expression.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Did the reports take so long to complete that it was way past the last train, or did he manage to get it done just in the nick of time?
After parting with Yuna in front of the office building, Shinobu boards the subway on the blue line and settles into a seat.
A hissing sound fills the air.
Making it on the last train of the day, it's noisy and crowded, although not to the point of being shoulder-to-shoulder with a stranger.
Shinobu pulls out an old-fashioned paperback that was wrapped in a fabric cover, from his briefcase.
The twenty-minute commute was his precious time for indulging in one of his few hobbies: reading.
. . .
However, his eyes glided over the rows of text without registering the words, his page-turning sluggish.
It was inevitable, really.
Even if his nickname was "mechanical lifeform," Shinobu Nakata is human, after all. And today is Thursday.
Working intensely until the last train was bound to wear him out and dull his concentration.
Hmm . . .
Shinobu gives up on reading and shifts his gaze to the window of the train.
Here in the subway, in the last train of the day.
All he can see is the darkness of the subway tunnel outside, and his own reflection in the train window.
Random memories from the past drifts through his mind.
Having always been the way he is, there were not many cheerful memories from his childhood.
During college, however, when those around him had matured and learned to interact with discernment, Shinobu too had his share of a sparkling youth.
He had gained lifelong friends through clashes, laughter, and tears.
Core memories.
Yet, they seem distant.
Beyond the train window, a cold darkness of the concrete tunnel looms.
This is the subway.
It's the last train.
And Shinobu is completely and utterly alone.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Before he knew it, Shinobu found himself seated at a table that seems to belong to some pub.
He feels suspended between a dream and reality, and a sensation of uncertainty was looming.
But recognizing the figure of a friend sitting across from him, Shinobu is convinced this is a dream.
The man, slightly taller and with a gentle, handsome face, is clearly someone inherently kind. He's a friend.
Yoshimitsu Naoki, his university classmate and friend, smiled warmly—just as Shinobu remembers him from those days.
Yoshimitsu's unchanged appearance causes Shinobu to realize that this is a memory.
It was a typical Shinobu-style logical conclusion, reached from the long way around.
─It was probably just after we'd gotten through the peak of the job-hunting season.
─I feel like it was in a pub like this where we drank together, just the two of us.
Shinobu, do you have any fears?
Of course, but why do you ask?
No big reason. You always seem fearless, so I was just wondering.
Well . . . if I had to say, the fear of the unknown is what scares me most.
What does that mean?
"Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will never be imperiled in a hundred battles." With knowledge, I can stand against any adversity.
I see. Is that why you're always so eager to learn about different things?
Yes. As a coward, I need to expand my knowledge base to feel secure.
That's quite self-deprecating.
I consider it an accurate self-assessment.
Well, sure . . . But sometimes, isn't the unknown exciting?
Such as?
Like . . . Say one day, suddenly, a cute elf girl from another world comes to visit.
You say some horrifying things.
What's so horrifying about that? In manga and novels, they're a staple popular character.
I understand the type. Pale, blonde, long-eared, adept with bows and magic.
Exactly, that's it. An encounter with the unknown. A sudden intercultural communication.
If that's your fetish, sure, but if I'm the one involved, I'd rather not!
Why? Elves are cute, aren't they?
Beauty or ugliness is hardly the issue. Whether they’re friendly or not is trivial.
Huh?
Just by welcoming visitors from another world, humanity on Earth might be driven to extinction.
. . . Hmm.
We would need to cool them to extremely low temperatures immediately, exile them into space, or at the very least, seal them away in the Antarctic permafrost.
. . .
Do you need an explanation?
Yes, please.
Well . . . are you familiar with North Sentinel Island, considered one of the last unexplored places on Earth?
Is that in India?
Indeed.
It’s been isolated from the outside world for thousands of years and even now, there's no interaction with modern civilization, right?
You're so well-informed. So, why do you think no attempts at contact have been made?
Because . . . it’s not profitable?
That might be true, but the official stance of the Indian government is that the islanders might not have immunity against modern pathogens and viruses, so they avoid interference for the safety of the islanders.
Like with new influenza strains or SARS. Even the common cold could be deadly for them.
Exactly. It's endlessly fascinating to me, but there's nothing to be done.
. . .
. . .
So . . . we're like the people of North Sentinel Island, and the elf is like a new pathogen?
Right. If the microbes carried by the elf were to contain toxins that could exterminate humanity, incineration wouldn’t be enough. Considering the precedent of dioxins, incomplete incineration could contaminate the soil, and the ashes could be carried by the wind into the clouds, raining poison onto the land.
When you put it that way . . . !
Whoa . . .
Oh, sorry.
No problem. It was just a little shake of the table.
Glad to hear that . . . Wait, we were talking about the bacteria from the elf!
Hmm.
If the elf’s microbes turned out to be resistant pathogens that can’t be eliminated by incineration it might also be resistant to extreme cold. Isn’t it unfair to measure it by Earth’s standards?
There ought to be at least one future where Earth can be saved. If it can't be contained even at extremely low temperatures, then humanity is destined to be defeated by the elf’s microbes.
Then . . . why not wish for a convenient, cute elf from the start?
I'm not capable of having such naive wishes.
. . .
It's cruel, I know. But if I were there at that moment, I’d take on the sin on behalf of Earth and freeze the elf, and if possible, cast it out into space.
You're too cynical. With that attitude, you won’t make friends when you start working.
If I have you, that’s enough for me.
Heh . . . well, okay then.
I’m sorry. I appreciate your friendship.
You're welcome. For now, let’s prepare for that moment and buy a refrigerator that can store liquid nitrogen.
Sounds good.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇
Shinobu wakes up just before his station, and passes through the automatic ticket gates without issue, as usual.
Beep-boop.
His straight, unwearied back is bid farewell by the audio signs for the visually impaired.
As Shinobu walks on, he reflects on the absurd remnants of his everyday life up until a moment ago.
. . .
The dimly lit street lamp casts light on the uphill path, which holds nothing but darkness ahead and behind him.
On a whim, he checks the time on his smartphone, and can’t help but chuckle.
It’s already past midnight. It's now November 17th, Friday.
Despite the inconvenience, adults don’t usually call friends just because they appeared in their daydream.
. . . Well, there are adults who do, and Yoshimitsu is just that type, so he wouldn’t mind, but Shinobu isn’t one of those people.
Next time we meet, if I feel like it, I might talk about it.
If he forgot about the elves and such, it would be a silly story, but well, that's also fine.
Lost in aimless thoughts, he checks his mailbox and find it was only filled with flyers.
Shinobu's quaint apartment building is old, and it lacks both an elevator, as well as restricted access to the apartment building that the newer buildings have these days.
As usual, he briskly climbs the stairs to the third floor, and inserts the key into the front door of his apartment.
Even after preparing for tomorrow, I should still be able to sleep for three or four hours.
—I'll have to think of some way to show my gratitude to Ms. Ichinose . . .
With that thought, Shinobu opens the front door and steps inside the threshold.
For a moment, he doubts his own sanity.
It can't be helped.
Because Shinobu Nakata lives alone in a two-bedroom apartment.
Moreover, the place is secured with anti-theft measures, with locks that he personally needs to check.
In the living room of that apartment—where no one should have been able to even access . . .
Draped in what seems like a white cloth, which looked as delicate as lace curtains.
With pale skin and with blonde hair.
With long ears, seemingly adept with a bow and magic.
Lay an elven beauty, sprawled out on her back.
