English Translation
Securing a ticket to regular full-time employment at a major corporation was nothing more than a distant illusion for Mr. K.
His grueling journey toward mainstream employment (regular employment) began with a job interview at a ramen shop called “NARUTO,” marking his very first step into the working world. At the time, the only option available to Mr. K was a part-time job at a company that supported the rehabilitation of juvenile detention center inmates. His working life truly commenced at “N Kogyo.” This was an era when the intense fervor of the drama Taiyou no Uta (A Song to the Sun), starring Takayuki Yamada, captivated the public, and Yutaka Takenouchi was making waves in a production set across both Japan and South Korea. Around that time, Mr. K found himself wondering if Taiyou no Uta was a sequel to Sekai no Chūshin de, Ai o Saikebu (Crying Out Love in the Center of the World).
Having expanded his knowledge from fiction to academic papers, Mr. K took his first real step under a two-year contract, facing the reality of a tense, daily morning cleaning routine. The term “Shokuoya” (Work-Parents) refers to cooperative employers and their initiatives aimed at supporting the independence and social reintegration of youths from juvenile centers. However, what blocked the young Mr. K back then was an era that offered no path for employment for people with disabilities, coupled with his own poor health.
In his hometown at the time, there were virtually no “choices.” In the realm of welfare for the disabled, non-employment-based work support facilities were scarce, and even employment-based facilities were limited to a handful of job openings in the manufacturing sector. The working environment surrounding people with disabilities was abysmal and unsustainable in the long run. Even so, clinging to mainstream employment was his only way forward. The in-house piecework at the facility was a tedious repetition of light labor. In facilities lacking proper management, petty arguments remain a daily occurrence even now. Astonishingly, the users included university graduates who had once stood at the pinnacle of society as physicians or corporate executives. No matter how brilliant one’s past or how high one’s pride, once the gears of life go awry, one is forced to settle for earning a meager wage through simple tasks—this was a miniature portrait of a cold and ruthless society.
Amidst all this, a chance participation in a joint job fair finally allowed Mr. K to make his way to a general interview session. Mixing in with fresh university graduates, he poured his soul into the interview, but the result was rejection. It was the exact moment he acutely felt excluded from society. As his one-year term at N Kogyo neared its end, an opportunity for employment support in an urban area surfaced. When the president asked him, “Will you stay for a second year?” Mr. K resolved to break free from the suffocating stagnation clouding his hometown and chose to resign.
To leap into the outside world, he immediately grabbed a ticket to the big city. The Stimulus of the City and Harsh Reality: Whether there was an interview there, or how exactly that life began, has now faded into the recesses of his memory. However, the stimulus of the city was overwhelming. Escaping his tedious hometown, Mr. K was suddenly burdened with the heavy responsibility of store management as the “manager” of an old outlet.
Armed with nothing but his youth, he literally worked himself to the bone from early morning until late at night. Every single day ended with him rushing onto the last train, collapsing from utter exhaustion. While he hurriedly wolfed down lunch with an American colleague, the storefront attracted a diverse clientele—ranging from U.S. military personnel to regular customers elegantly dressed in traditional Japanese attire. His highly capable supervisor possessed connections to the White House and elite financial conglomerates, frequently visiting the U.S. Embassy in Tokyo before ultimately relocating to Washington, D.C. Mr. K, too, had thrown himself into these dynamic operations directly linked to America.
As the second year approached, he was asked, “Would you like to work as a part-time employee?” This was the gateway to the harsh reality of unstable employment. The economic momentum of the era was rapidly swelling. Much like the energy of the storyteller in the hit drama Tiger & Dragon, the very concept of working hours ceased to hold meaning. Daily working hours easily surpassed eight hours, and he labored without rest, regardless of weekends, holidays, New Year’s Eve, or New Year’s Day.
University students came seeking Tiffany watches, while in a corner of the display case lay manual-wind watches from the wartime era. These were glamorous days spent handling luxury brands like Gucci and Louis Vuitton, raking in hundreds of thousands or millions of yen in sales from a single customer interaction. Yet, behind the glittering facade where Armani and Calvin Klein stood side by side, Mr. K’s body was screaming for relief. Ultimately, failing health forced him to step down. Sometime later, his father told him a startling truth: “In reality, you are a man of the government.”
An Unstoppable Pace: However, stopping was a luxury he could not afford. There was no wall of unemployment to shield him. He immediately returned to the facility, recovered his health in preparation for the next opportunity, and headed to the public employment office. The next job he secured was equally grueling. Under a high-handed supervisor, he was left to run the entire site completely on his own. He knew it was an impossible mission, but he spurred himself on, thinking, “If I’m going to quit anyway, I might as well endure it for at least a year.” Unable to bear the misery of eating lunch in a tense office while glaring at unpleasant colleagues, he constantly frequented a nearby diner. It was a bleak working environment unimaginable today, reflecting an era where winners and losers were ruthlessly segregated. One day during lunch break, as Mr. K stepped outside, his father was waiting for him. Squeezing through his son’s brutal schedule, his father had come solely to share a brief meal. That lunch break became the only occasion during his employment where father and son shared a meal. What was his father eating? Was it curry rice, or a pork cutlet bowl (Katsudon)? Was Mr. K eating a set meal? In the midst of this absurd reality, for some reason, only the taste of the mini fried rice he ate at a gyoza shop during his part-time days remains vividly seared into his memory.
Later, relying on personal connections, he worked in his hometown once again, but the reality of part-time labor was merciless. His physical strength was relentlessly chipped away. Finally reaching his absolute limit, he had no choice but to take a period of medical convalescence. Around that time, through an introduction by a small local real estate agent, a marriage match (Omiai) proposal arrived. Having had opportunities to interact with members of the Imperial Family since childhood, memories of once being referred to as “Ō” (Prince)—a title historically granted to male descendants not in the direct line of the Emperor—flashed through Mr. K’s mind. It must have been a joke. What on earth did the prospective match intend to convey by passing along those words? Unable to find an answer, he left the meeting, and several years flowed by.
The Will to Face New Challenges: Years later, aiming to improve his skills and take the next step forward, Mr. K found himself back at the facility. He began to harbor doubts. Are we allowed to just indulge in the lukewarm waters of the “Yutori generation”? In recent years, scrutiny over harassment has tightened, and the workplace environment has transformed completely. On the flip side, however, isn’t it true that more workers are now merely asserting their rights while blatantly slacking off? We must return to our origins. Debating the labor environment and reviving a strict system like a “one-day-off-per-week (six-day workweek)” is essential to revitalize Japanese society and restore the true value of “Made in Japan,” which once dominated the world. Mr. K’s father used to work seven days a week in the past. Currently, Mr. K is beset by further misfortune. He injured his leg in a wasteland near his home, and the dispute surrounding that land remains unresolved. Society is unreasonable to the core, thrusting trial after trial upon him.
Even so, Mr. K refuses to yield. The next challenge he intends to take on is a high wall he has imposed upon himself: a “one-day-off-per-week (six-day workweek)” routine. For the sake of the brilliance he once yearned for, and for the future he must seize with his own hands. The reality of having only one day off per week, which mercilessly drains his physical stamina, is the very image of the harsh society that once broke him. Nevertheless, the prospect of stepping up to an employment-based facility holds an undeniable allure. It is a question of upgrading his skills and confronting how he faces labor and wages. Precisely because he knows the ruthless baptism of society better than anyone else, he continues to whip himself into shape, quietly sharpening his fangs for the next great leap forward.
