The work-history field on the job site is half the screen wide. Three years and five months comes to five lines, and the qualifications field comes to one. Four applications, three rejections, one silence. Then Joey messages Yugi for the first time in a year and goes to the shop, and loses a Duel in which he never once attacked. Yugi tells him he has got better. On the train home he looks at Block A, where a road will be made in March.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 08 書けること
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
Got up at ten in the morning, ate, opened the laptop.
Enter email address and password. Name, date of birth, address, phone number. That much was done in three minutes.
I stopped on the next page.
Work history.
The entry field was set out wide. About half the screen.
I wrote the company name. Minami Setsubi Co., Ltd. Department, Sales. Period of employment, three years and five months.
Below it, it said Duties.
I tried to write my three years.
Sales of building materials and equipment. That much I wrote. It didn't go on from there.
What have I done?
Went to sites, attended unloading. Did acceptance inspections. Wrote up slips. Worked up quotations. Answered the phone. Went to get things sealed. And then, drank.
The drinking, obviously, can't be written.
Take out what can't be written, and the rest looked like things anyone could do.
Surely they're not things anyone could do. Carrying an 8.2-kilo case for fourteen minutes. Standing six hours on concrete in summer. Those aren't things anyone can do.
But there's no field to write that in.
There was a field called Key Achievements.
Achievements.
In sales you'd write that you grew revenue, or opened new accounts, that sort of thing.
I kept the deliveries for East District Block A moving. Kept moving — or rather, didn't stop them. In three years the schedule has never once stopped because of me.
But can that be called an achievement?
If it stops you get shouted at. If it doesn't stop, nothing happens. For three years I've been making sure nothing happens.
Is nothing happened something you can write?
I spent an hour and wrote three lines.
Read the three lines back and in the end deleted them.
Tried writing again. This time I managed five lines.
Three years and five months, five lines.
That was all of it, but I saved.
The next page was the qualifications field.
Standard driving licence.
That was all.
Saved that as well and pressed submit.
I looked at the screen for a while.
Outside the window was bright. Still before noon.
How many months it had been since I was in the room before noon on a Sunday, I didn't know.
By the end of September I'd applied to four companies.
I used weekday evenings and Saturday mornings. I aimed for Saturdays when the site wasn't moving. There are more days it moves, so interviews and the like only come up about once a fortnight.
The first fell at the paperwork.
The second got as far as an interview. Same industry, a slightly bigger company.
"Three years and five months. And your reason for changing?"
"Ah — the working environment, I suppose."
"Specifically?"
"Overtime doesn't get paid, and I can't take time off."
The interviewer nodded.
"We're busy here too."
"Yes."
"If it turned out the same, would you leave again?"
I couldn't answer.
About ten seconds went by without an answer.
"Mr. Wheeler, out of your experience at your current company, what would you say you're most confident about?"
"Stamina."
Having said it, I thought I'd blown it.
The interviewer smiled kindly.
"Stamina's important."
He was smiling, and I didn't get it.
The third fell as well, and the fourth never replied.
Into October, I opened the CV file once and closed it again.
That week there were four drinking sessions.
Block C broke ground, and a different matter was moving.
The section chief asks twice a week.
"KC. How's it going."
"I'm going."
"Not that. The upper end."
"I can't meet him."
"Why not."
"The summonses come from Business Development. I can't say to Mr. Hirano, put me through to your president."
"Try saying it."
"…"
There was no way I could say it.
Mr. Hirano calls me in for work. Document checks and seals. If I said in the middle of that, put me through to the president, what face would Mr. Hirano make?
He'd be put out, probably.
Put out, and he'd still refuse politely. Like the receptionist last year.
I didn't say that to the section chief.
Didn't say it, went to KC, checked the documents, affixed the seal, came back.
When I come back the section chief asks.
"How was it."
"Can't meet him."
"You're no use."
Mid-October, the first time I was told that.
The one who said it made a slightly surprised face. And still, again, he didn't correct it.
From the second time, he stopped being surprised.
On the Wednesday of the third week of October, I got home at 23:00.
I looked at my phone.
A message had come to the group.
Everyone, shall we get together for once?
It was Téa.
How about Sunday?
Tristan had replied I'm in, and Yugi had written Sounds good.
I looked at the screen.
Sunday is free as things stand. Then again, a site might come up on Saturday. There's a chance of going in on Sunday off the back of it.
Normally I'd think that, mark it read and close it.
Every time I mean to answer later, and it stays unanswered.
A year of that. No — longer.
I'll come once things settle down. How many times have I written that?
Scroll, and it could be counted.
I didn't want to count, so I moved my finger.
Yugi
Not the group. I sent it to Yugi directly.
Wanna Duel on my next day off?
After I sent it I looked at the clock. Past 23:00.
I thought he might be asleep, but the reply came in two minutes.
Sure! I'll be waiting at the shop
That was all.
He didn't ask why all of a sudden.
He didn't say, what's this after a year.
I got into the futon and looked at the ceiling.
For a while, I couldn't sleep.
Sunday, I got to the front of the Kame Game Shop at eleven.
Three and a half years.
The shop sign hasn't changed. The poster stuck to the glass door is a new one. But the price tags being handwritten hasn't changed either.
I opened the door and a bell rang.
"Joey."
Yugi was behind the counter.
Minding the shop, apparently; he had an apron on.
"Hey."
"Come in, come in. No customers right now."
I went inside. Narrow. Was it always this narrow, I thought.
"Where's Gramps?"
"He's at a meeting today. Won't be back till evening."
"You running the place on your own?"
"Not really. Though these days I probably do more of it than Grandpa. Stocking the shelves, the inventory, the till."
Yugi came out from behind the counter.
He hadn't got taller. A head shorter than me. Same as three years ago.
"It's been a while."
"Yeah."
That was all.
That I didn't answer for a year, that I turned down three get-togethers, Yugi didn't say.
I'd braced myself a bit. The bracing swung at nothing.
"Shall we go through the back? I've made a space."
The back of the shop was bigger than before.
What used to be storage had been cleared out, with two tables in it. Shelving along the wall, files and notebooks stacked on it.
Papers were spread over one of the tables.
Cards, but close to handwritten. The illustration part is blank, only the text filled in.
"What's this?"
"Ah, I'll clear that away."
Yugi gathered the papers. A slightly embarrassed face.
"I'm in the middle of making it."
"Making — cards?"
"The whole game. It's a card game, but a different one from Magic & Wizards."
"Huh."
"It's nowhere near yet. The rules aren't settled, and every time I test-play it the numbers break."
Yugi put the papers back on the shelf.
There were quite a lot of them, but his hands were practised. He must do it every day.
"How long've you been at it?"
"The cards, about two years, I suppose. While helping with Grandpa's shop."
"Every day?"
"Only at night. After we close, about two hours."
Two hours.
Every day, two hours.
Two years — how many hours?
Seven hundred and thirty days, fourteen hundred and sixty hours.
After I'd worked it out I noticed I'd worked it out.
Lately I count everything.
"Joey, is something wrong?"
"No."
"Right, shall we, then."
The Duel started at half past eleven.
"You can go first, Joey."
"Yeah."
I drew five cards.
Looked at the first.
I can put it out. Attack the same as that time, 1800.
Put it out and Yugi will sink it. Watch and wait here.
Placed it face-down in defence position, set one card. Turn end.
Yugi drew.
From there, it was the usual.
The usual, meaning the same as the stadium last year.
I defended.
On the third turn the Trap I activated went through.
Fourth turn, Yugi put out Silent Magician.
Sixth turn, a board came where I could put Red-Eyes out. But I didn't.
Seventh turn, my Life Points went to 1800.
Eighth turn.
I looked at my hand.
Three. Three I haven't used.
One of them caught my eye.
Put this out and the board changes. But there's a set card on Yugi's field. There's a chance of it being negated. If he comes straight in after that, at my Life Points it finishes in one.
Safer not to put it out.
Safely, I can hold out two more turns.
Hold out, and then what.
Hold out, draw, and if a good card comes, put it out. And if it doesn't come, hold out again?
That's where my hand stopped.
I did this last year, too.
A year ago, in that stadium, I did the same thing. Eight turns, defending, and lost with two cards left in my hand.
At the time, he said it.
You meant to win with that?
I didn't understand the meaning.
I thought losing was down to ability. I thought I defended because otherwise it finishes in three turns. As reasoning it should have been correct. But he looked bored.
Now I understand.
I'm not going to win.
I'm fighting so as not to lose.
That only extends the time before losing. There isn't anything on the other side of it. If the draws are good I might be saved, but that isn't something I'm doing.
It's the same as working up a quotation. Check the quantities, apply the rate, make sure there are no errors. If there are no errors, nothing happens. Nothing happening is the correct answer.
Three years of that.
Three years of it, and it's gone into my body.
I put a finger on one card in my hand.
The finger stopped.
I want to put it out, and my finger won't move.
Put it out and it might end. The calculation comes first. Because of the calculation, my hand stops.
It stopped for about three seconds.
In the end, I set it face-down.
Placed it in defence, turn end.
Yugi drew a card.
On the ninth turn my Life Points went to zero.
The Duel ended and I was still sitting in the chair.
"Thank you."
Yugi said.
"Yeah."
Two cards were left in my hand. The ones I didn't use.
I put them down on the table.
I could have played it. If I'd put it out on the eighth turn, the board would have changed. I might have lost anyway, but it would have changed.
I didn't put it out.
I didn't put it out not because Yugi is strong.
It's because not putting it out had become the way I fight.
Since when?
It wasn't like this before.
The me in high school attacked. Attacked, and whether the maths was enough I found out after attacking. I lost that way often, but it was a different way of losing.
The way I lose now is getting shaved down until it's over. And the whole time, I'm not doing anything.
"Joey."
I looked up.
Yugi was clearing the cards away.
"You've got stronger."
"…What?"
"Your Duelling's got better. You were really careful."
I looked at Yugi.
Yugi was smiling. Not sarcasm — the face of someone who really thinks so.
"I haven't got better. I lost, didn't I."
"Mm, but I think the old Joey would have finished sooner."
Maybe so.
I'd have finished sooner. Finished sooner, and then been sick about it.
Today I wasn't sick about it.
"That's some way of putting it."
Not being sick about it started to feel a bit wrong.
Why am I not sick about it.
I lost, didn't I.
Past noon, Yugi brought out some bread.
"Want some? It's left over from breakfast."
"I'll have it."
We sat at the counter and ate bread, the two of us.
"Joey, how's work?"
Here it comes, I thought.
"Ah, normal enough."
"I see."
That was all.
Yugi didn't press.
He looked at my face and must have thought something. There's no way he didn't. I looked in the mirror this morning. My face looked bad. Having lost and not been sick about it, it must look worse now.
"Yugi."
"What?"
"That thing you said, about making a game."
"Mm."
"Will it sell?"
Having asked, I thought it was a rude way to ask.
Yugi didn't mind.
"It's nowhere near saleable yet."
"Then why're you doing it?"
"Because I want to make it."
"…That's it?"
"Mm."
Yugi bit into his bread.
"I do think it'd be nice to put it out someday. But even if I can't, I'll make it. Because the time I'm making it is the best part."
I was looking at my own bread.
"You've done two years on it and it doesn't make money."
"With the other games as well, it's longer than that. It was the dream, after all."
"Even with the shop to run."
"Because there's the shop, I can do it."
Yugi looked over at me.
"Life turns on the shop, so I can do what I like for two hours at night. I'm grateful to Grandpa."
I couldn't say anything.
Because life turns on the shop.
What does my life turn on?
It does turn. I pay the rent. I've never fallen behind.
It turns, and there aren't two hours at night.
Never mind two hours at night — the time I get home isn't even fixed.
"Joey, are you Duelling these days?"
"I'm not."
"Today?"
"Today, well — first in a while."
"Was it fun?"
Asked, I couldn't answer.
Whether it was fun, I don't know.
While I was Duelling, I was calculating. Calculating, defending, losing.
Whether I thought that time was fun, I don't know.
"…Dunno."
I said it straight.
Yugi went quiet for just a moment.
"I see."
That was all he said, and he ate more bread.
"Come again."
"Yeah."
"Any time. I'm mostly here anyway."
I left the shop past two.
A Sunday afternoon in October. The sun is high.
Walking towards the station, I was thinking about last autumn.
Last November I entered a tournament. Two months of preparation, beat four hundred people, came first.
What was I thinking about then?
I feel like all I thought about was meeting him. What to do when I met him, I hadn't thought about.
But those two months weren't bad.
Thirty minutes at night, laying the cards out on the floor. Even when I got home past ten, I laid them out. Even when two Sundays went, I went to the card shop on Wednesday nights and Sunday nights.
There were far more days I couldn't go. But I was going.
That time existed.
It doesn't now.
From that Duel with him last year to today, close to a year. I didn't open the deck.
Why didn't I open it?
Because I was busy?
No — I was just as busy last autumn.
So why didn't I open it?
There should have been a reason.
It came fairly quickly. Because the purpose went away.
Because there was the purpose of entering a tournament, I made thirty minutes. When the purpose went, the thirty minutes went.
The thirty minutes weren't there. I was making them.
I got caught at a light and waited for green.
Last autumn, the purpose I made was meeting him.
That was achieved, and it ended.
So, the next purpose.
——The road of the future.
His words came up again.
I was told to think, and I didn't think. I couldn't. Because there was no content.
There's no content now either. Just now, Yugi said it.
Because I want to make it.
Because it was the dream.
Even if I can't put it out into the world, I'll make it. Because the time I'm making it is the best part.
I don't have that.
I must have had it before.
The light changed and I started walking.
Walking, I said it in my mouth.
Pro Duelist.
In high school I said it seriously. I wasn't saying it as a joke. It might have been talk, but I meant it. And then I graduated, got a job, and haven't said it since.
Three years and more, I haven't said it once. I can remember it — it hadn't gone.
It was still there.
It came up.
I went through the ticket gate.
Got on the train and looked out of the window.
Domino City flows past. Cleared ground inside fencing comes into view. Block A. The frame isn't fully up yet.
A road will be made there.
It's finished in March next year.
A road gets made, shops move in, people walk.
People walk on the floors I sold.
That isn't bad.
But it isn't my road.
I got home and looked at the shelf.
The deck case, and next to it, a box.
The Duel Disk from last year's tournament, the additional prize.
A year, unopened.
I took it down.
Put it on the floor and peeled off the tape.
There was packing material inside, and under that the unit itself. Mine was white. Lifting it, it's lighter than the old model.
I put it against my arm and fitted it. The lock made a sound.
Switched the power on, and a start-up tone sounded, and the Solid Vision display came up.
No Duelist registration found
Register?
I looked at the display.
Looked at it for a while, then chose yes.
A name entry field came up. I entered that as well.
Joseph Wheeler.
Pressed confirm.
Registration complete
Welcome, Joseph Wheeler
I lowered my arm.
Turned the power off, put the Duel Disk back in the box, and then, didn't put it back — set it on the desk.
That day, I slept like that.
