Starting a Night Shift Part-time Job at a Convenience Store.

I would think about it… That was what I said, nevertheless, the answer I wanted to deliver was more or less settled.

After returning home, I grabbed my phone and continued to stare at the ceiling as I lay on the untouched and untucked futon. The call would be connected to the barcode manager with a simple button press.

Then what would I say?

Please let me resign.

That single remark would likely convey the implied message, followed immediately by a sigh of disappointment from the manager.

What I heard from Takenaka was a phenomenal story.

I felt it was not a territory I should venture into. Or rather, I felt it was a territory I could not penetrate.

I mean, after all, who would believe it? Even I still felt like I was dreaming. 

Like that huge armor and helmet that appeared behind Takenaka from time to time. The man who was caught on security camera screaming in grief. Or that woman who was attached to the windowpane.

To know that I have to look at those things every day from now on… That was absolutely impractical…

My cell phone’s call button was still not pressed, though, both out of shame for quitting after only a week and out of a sense of apology for the night shift workers that remained behind. In all the places that I had been allocated, I had never worked anywhere else in my life with such a shortest record.

No, that didn’t matter, not really. I didn’t want to be regarded as one of those who had left, I supposed.

That type of obstinacy isn’t essential, a calm part of me whispered, yet I couldn’t help but think that it would be better to just leave…

I was too clouded to draw a decision in one stroke. Saying quitting was easy but deliberately attempting to go to a place I didn’t want to go to was not right. No, but a sense of responsibility abounded me. Even if it was only a part-time job, ending it so easily was not acceptable. I wasn’t a child.

Even Takenaka warned me to steer clear, or I might end up in messy situations again.

Although I was starting to develop a rapport with Aoyama and Hirai, was this really the right way to end things?

Conflicted, the answer eluded me. Despite pressing only one button and things would end, something was holding me back.

Frustration was beginning to sink in. With so much going on today, I was exhausted, confounded, and unclear, causing me to struggle with information indigestion.

I kicked the sliding door of the closet next to mine with all my might out of desperation.

“What―!?”

That turned out to be a mistake.

An avalanche of junk and cardboard boxes that had been piled within came tumbling down as the poor, battered sliding door was on the edge of falling apart.

I was shrieking, held down by dusty magazines and the like, and sobbing profusely due to the smell of dust and the pain. This was the worst. I was at my breaking point. Damn it.

Before, my mother barged in with my sister and told me that there were too many things and that I should organize them when I got the chance. This was the result of leaving them unattended.

“Ah… ah.”

Was that what people call a whole catastrophe for this?

The avalanche dispersed the magazines and mangas I had taped together into a jumble, and the contents within the cardboard boxes were crushed with a mighty thud. Dust was dancing on the futon, above my head.

My sister would probably respond, “Pfft, serve you right,” if she saw it, which would irritate me.

Even though I hated it, I was compelled to clean it up. Dammit… What a day today was.

Lacking motivation, I was dazedly sitting cross-legged for a while looking at the mess.

My cell phone rang subsequently.

This pattern of incoming calls was…

On the screen, I found the person I had been debating whether to call, the “Manager.” 

I picked up the magazine with one hand, took the phone with the other, held it to my ear, and pressed the call button. The manager’s voice came through when I answered, and it had a strangely muffled tone.

[O-Oh, Hakamada? Are you okay…?]

“What is it?”

[No, you see. You didn’t reply to my email.]

Ah. Speaking of which, I forgot to reply to him… I mean, was that the only reason he called me?

My mind was conjuring up an image of the barcode manager calling me with his complexion changed.

[Is there something bad happening?]

“…”

Although I didn’t find the manager very appealing, I thought he had good instincts at this point. “A week has passed,” after all. The manager must have been prepared for this.

“No… nothing.”

Actually… I wasn’t certain whether to open up the conversation but I made an effort to proceed as if nothing had happened.

Then…

[A lie.]

“What?”

[The way your voice sank, I knew there is more to it than that.]

“Eh?”

What… you the barcode manager, what were you talking about out of the blue…

“Hahaha, just kidding. In fact, I heard from someone this morning that your face was completely pale when you left… that’s why.”

“…”

So that was the reason…

[I became worried. Hey, did nothing really happen?]

“…”

[So something did happen huh.]

I gave up on concealing it, lying about it wasn’t doing me any good. Furthermore, this person may have already conducted dozens of instances of this type of correspondence. There was likely no way for me to hide things from the person who had gotten the knowledge from someone who already knew everything.

[I see, that was tough for you…]

After listening to my story, the manager said, “I see, I see,” as if to reassure me. I asked the manager one thing that bothered me.

“Manager, have you ever seen that too… those things?”

[Yeah. Sometimes when I substitute for the night shift, and on rare occasions during the day… it’s really terrific there.”

“Is that so…”

The manager returned back saying in an accustomed tone of voice, “That’s right.”

I couldn’t work if I was scared.

[So, what is your plan, Hakamada?]

“Huh?”

[No pressure really. I just want you to tell me how you really feel.]

It was clear immediately what the manager was going to ask me.

[If you’re not particularly bothered about it, that’s great, but judging by the way you react, I assume you aren’t? If you don’t like it, the sooner the better to quit… Besides, a long time ago, a girl who forced herself to continue working part-time fell into a highly perilous position so I don’t want Hakamada to face that kind of danger, and if you think it’s not right for you after all, then you should just go ahead and say it…]

“But…”

[Even if you opt to do so, neither I nor the people on the night shift will ever characterize you as an insensitive person, don’t worry.]

Again, I fell into silence.

The manager was right. Perhaps resigning at this point would be the safest thing to do without needlessly inconveniencing them. The answer I had been wavering over seemed to have somehow been finalized.

As I was arranging the mess at that time, one of my arms tripped over a cardboard box and it fell to the ground. The contents were spread across the futon after it was knocked over again.

Ah… back to square one…

With my phone between my shoulder and head, I used both hands to collect up all the stuff that had been scattered and tried to put it away again.

And then―Something fell out of it.

I wondered what that was… and it turned out to be a dusty, slightly faded… photograph. Mixed in amongst all this was a single photo.

When I picked up the photo and flipped it over, I…

“――”

…gulped at the sight of it.

This photo was…

Instantly, my hand, which had picked up the photo with my fingertips, quivered subtly. My breathing rhythm fluctuated erratically, and my heart pulsed wildly as if I had been racing at full speed.

Turmoil―

Why did this photograph appear in front of me now?

While I didn’t want to look at it, I couldn’t throw it away. I had forgotten it existed until just now.

Was it a coincidence that it popped up before me? Or was it…

My eyes couldn’t detach themselves from it and I wondered how long I had been doing so. The manager’s voice drew me back in just as my thoughts were starting to stray.

[―Hey, Hakamada?]

“Eh, ah.”

No good, I had completely blanked out.

[What’s wrong?]

“No…”

Nothing. Even as I attempted to answer that, before I knew it, even my voice had been stifled, clearly establishing that something must be amiss. Over the cell phone, the manager’s concerned voice played again.

“Manager.”

Instead of putting it back in the cardboard, I carefully laid the single photograph down on the futon. Taking a small, inaudible deep breath, I opened my mouth.

[Ehhh!?]

The manager was still astounded by my response and raised his voice so high it almost cracked.

It was too loud. Don’t make such a loud voice.

[Hakamada, did you just say… that you want to continue?]

“Yes.”

[You’re going to keep working the night shift at that convenience store!?]

Didn’t I already say that? Don’t make me repeat it, you bald…! As expected, I couldn’t say that but I uttered the word yes again.

The manager growled.

[I have no idea what you saw, but Hakamada, you must have figured out this time that place is a place that chooses its people… and yet.]

“I am simply having difficulty finding another place to work. In any case, I will get used to it.”

[Is that really the reason?]

Silence would be taken as an affirmation. I hastily composed my next words and moved my mouth to formulate them.

“Right, and the fact that I am not injured, I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. I want to keep going.”

[…Even if you said that…]

This time, the manager fell silent.

“Because of my position, I can’t force you to quit or continue.]

Even so, the manager said that he hoped that I would prioritize myself.

[If there is something bothering you or something you feel guilty about that is forcing you to continue, then…]

Today’s manager struck an uncanny chord with me. Even though I thought so, what was on my mind right now was not something that I could talk to the manager about. Telling him wouldn’t accomplish anything, nor did I want to tell him.

I had already set my heart on it.

Once a decision had been reached, I would push forward to the very end, irrespective of who might oppose me, for I was the type of person who was stupid, foolish, and impulsive.

Foolish, incurably stupid.

[I see… if you insist that much… I would appreciate it if you could continue too but don’t strain yourself, Hakamada, you’re a normal person after all.]

Having received an unexpected response back, the manager voiced his concern to me and hung up the phone.

My cell phone’s screen displayed “end of call,” and I silently closed it while staring at it.

A silent mutter escaped my lips.

“This can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

Not looking at it, I unconsciously rolled up the photograph I had laid down on the futon and viewed it once more.

It was no coincidence…

All the inexplicable things that were unfolding around me… All of them, no doubt.

My own―

No way I could run away from it. Escaping wasn’t a choice for me.

Therefore, I had to keep going.

I would stay in that place.

No matter what may befall.

I pressed the photograph I found in the junk tightly to my chest and shut my eyes. My heart throbbed naturally, and the center of my chest ached slightly.