The fifth interview is with a senior managing director in work clothes who talks about sites, and who refuses to let Joey answer on the spot. On 12 November Joey takes one of his thirty-two days of paid leave and stands in the public open space outside the KC building. He stands from 7:40 in the morning. Three security guards are relieved in turn. At 11:20 at night, four people come out of the main entrance. This time he attacks from the first turn, and this time he loses in seven.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 09 リベンジマッチ
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
An equipment installation firm in Kitamachi. Forty employees. Mainly construction work, with only three in sales.
The interviewer was the senior managing director. About fifty, and apparently he goes out on site — he was in work clothes.
"Mr. Wheeler, you've been on the East District."
"Yes. Materials for Block A."
"That's hard going, isn't it. The schedule's tight."
"It's tight."
"We're in on part of it. Water supply and drainage on Block C."
The conversation kept going. Different from the four before.
The four before read my three years in five lines and asked questions about those five lines. Here it was different. The senior managing director talked about sites. Which delivery entrance is narrow, what fell behind in the week it rained.
I could answer. It was all things I know.
Thirty minutes scheduled had become an hour.
"Mr. Wheeler, we're not a big place."
"Yes."
"And the pay — probably about the same as now, or a bit lower."
"Yes."
"Only, we record overtime and we pay it, and we make people take their leave. Make them — or rather, we're in trouble if they don't. We've few enough people that if one goes down it doesn't run."
I was looking at the senior managing director's face.
"You're welcome to take it away and think it over. We'd like a conclusion within the month ourselves."
"Um."
"Yes?"
"Could I answer now?"
The senior managing director laughed.
"No."
"Huh?"
"People who decide on impulse leave on impulse. Take a week over it."
I went home.
On the train back, I looked out of the window.
The pay goes down.
It goes down, and why was I about to answer on the spot?
From that week, I started handling the cards at night.
Home at ten, thirty minutes. On days I got home at eleven, I did it for fifteen.
Same as last autumn.
The same, and different.
Last year it was in order to enter a tournament. This time there's no tournament decided on.
There's no fixture and I'm doing it.
On Sunday I went to the card shop. The one I used to go to a lot in high school. Three years' gap.
"Oh, it's the guy who won."
A high schooler said.
"I watched the video of last year's KC Cup final."
"There's a video?"
"Official put it up. The microphone one too."
"…That as well."
"That one's got the most views."
I was quiet a moment.
"Want a game?"
"Yes please."
That day I played four, two wins two losses.
The two I lost, in both of them I defended.
Defended, and lost.
Afterwards I kept thinking about it.
It isn't that defending is bad. There are boards where you have to defend.
But that isn't it.
I've stopped choosing anything but defending.
I'm not choosing it — I'm falling into it.
Thursday, 12 November.
I took paid leave.
First time since I started my fourth year.
When I put the application in, the section chief asked back twice.
"Paid leave?"
"Paid leave."
"What for."
"Something on."
"Something on, meaning."
"Personal business."
The section chief started to say something and stopped.
He stopped, probably, because of the remediation plan. Take-up of paid leave is in the reporting items. If they don't let people take it the figures look bad.
"Just the one day?"
"One day."
"Well, all right."
One out of thirty-two.
Thursday morning, I left the house at seven.
Not a suit. Not work clothes. Ordinary clothes. Not the out-of-season hoodie I wore last autumn — one I bought this autumn.
I had a backpack on.
The Duel Disk is in it. The new one from the prize.
I got to the front of the KC building at 7:40.
In front of the main entrance there's a plaza. Paving stones, benches in a row, planting in the middle. Last autumn, after being turned away at reception, I sat here.
Today I didn't sit.
I stood.
About twenty metres from the entrance. On the boundary of the pavement and the plaza; anyone can come in here. It's on the building's land, but it's what they call a public open space. It says so on the sign.
People come.
From before eight, they started increasing.
People with cards round their necks go in one after another. All of them looking straight ahead, walking fast. Same as what I saw last year.
I stood.
Eight. Half past eight. It got to nine.
He doesn't come.
I'd thought he might not. There's no guarantee he comes today. He might be abroad, might be at another site. It might be tomorrow rather than today, but tomorrow isn't paid leave.
If he doesn't come, I'll take another one.
There are thirty-one left.
At half past nine, a security guard came.
"Sir, do you have business with someone?"
"Just waiting."
"Who are you waiting for?"
"Kaiba."
The security guard stopped.
"…Do you have an appointment?"
"I don't."
"I'm afraid that—"
"This is a public open space, isn't it."
I pointed at the sign.
The security guard looked at the sign, then looked at me.
"It is, but."
"Then just standing is all right, isn't it. I'm not going in."
The security guard made a troubled face. He said something on his radio, then stood a little way off.
I was to be watched, apparently.
I stood.
Ten. Eleven.
Time went by and it became midday.
I got hungry, so I took bread out of the backpack and ate it. I'd bought it on the way.
The security guard was relieved. A new one came and stood a little way off again.
One. Two.
Past three, my legs started to hurt.
It's different from standing on site. On site things move. Here nothing moves.
Four.
The light started going.
Half past four in November is already dark.
Lights come on in the building's windows. Top to bottom, all of them on.
Five.
Six.
More people started coming out. Finishing time, presumably. Only, it felt like more were coming out than when I looked last year.
I was still standing.
Seven. Eight.
I was hungry, and the bread was gone.
Nine.
The security guard was relieved again.
The third one.
"Sir."
"Yes."
"There is a possibility that he will not be returning today…"
"Right."
"If you'd care to come again tomorrow."
"Tomorrow I've got work."
The security guard went quiet.
Quiet, and after a moment, he said it.
"There is nothing I am able to tell you."
That was all he said, and he moved away.
It got to ten.
Half past ten.
The lights in the building go down bit by bit. Floor by floor they drop. The upper part is still on.
Eleven.
I sat down directly on the paving stones. Cold.
What am I doing, I was thinking. And him, working until this hour — what's he thinking. No proof, but he's probably in this building.
Use one day of paid leave, stand fifteen hours, and if I don't meet him I have to do the same thing tomorrow to meet him. Tomorrow is work. The day after is Friday too, and Saturday has a site.
Sunday, he might not come.
I know it's inefficient. Even so, I'm here.
Hang on — what do I mean, he might not come. Do I want to see him?
I breathed out. Same as last autumn. I spent two months on a groundless idea that entering a tournament might let me meet him. That time, it landed.
Today it might miss.
If it misses, I'll come again.
Once I'd settled that, it got a bit easier.
11:20.
People came out of the main entrance.
Four of them.
The one walking in front was the tall white coat.
I stood up.
Standing up, my legs went unsteady. Fifteen hours of standing. Unsteady, I took the backpack, got the Duel Disk out of it, fitted it to my arm.
The four cross the plaza. There's a car waiting at the front turning circle.
I ran.
Ran, stopped about ten metres short, took a breath.
"Kaibaaa!"
My voice rang out across the night plaza.
The four stopped.
The white coat turned round.
I raised the arm with the Duel Disk on it.
"Fight me! Rematch!"
It was quiet.
Only the sound of the car engine.
Isono stepped forward. Stepped forward, and started to say something.
The white coat stopped him with a hand.
He's looking this way.
Looking, and then he looked at the Duel Disk on my arm.
"…That Duel Disk."
"Last year's prize."
"A year old."
"Shut up, I only opened it recently."
For a while, he said nothing.
The security guard is standing off to the side. That I'd been here since morning, he's probably reported.
Whether the report went up as far as him, I don't know. Probably he didn't know. If he had, he'd have had me thrown out or something.
"What time were you there from."
"7:40."
"In the morning."
"In the morning. Something wrong with that?"
He was silent, and then looked towards the car.
"Isono."
"Yes."
"Clear the next appointment."
Next appointment, did he say. How many hours are you planning to work.
"Moving it to tomorrow morning would mean… very early."
"Clear it."
Isono bowed his head.
The white coat walked over to me.
Stopped about three metres away.
"You're on paid leave."
"How d'you know that?"
"Today is Thursday. Block C should be under construction. For the scale of it, the headcount in the reports is low. It is reasonable to assume someone is out on site."
You know that?
"Come."
That was all he said, and he turned his back.
The destination wasn't the stadium at Kaiba Land.
It was inside the head office building.
Down in the elevator to the basement, walking along a corridor. Walking side by side was a strange feeling.
He opened a door and there was a wide room. Underground, and the ceiling is high. The floor is glossy and black, equipment ranged along all four walls.
"Test play room."
"Test?"
"New models are validated here. The Solid Vision output is no different from live."
He took off the coat and hung it over the back of a chair.
I think it was the first time I'd seen him take the white coat off.
"What do you want."
"A Duel."
"That I have heard. What comes after it."
"Nothing comes after."
I brought the Duel Disk up.
"I came to Duel. That's all."
He looked at me. There was a short pause.
"…I see."
He fitted his own Duel Disk.
"Then let us go."
"Yeah."
Solid Vision came up.
Opening hand, five cards.
Looked at the first.
I can put it out. A card with high attack.
Put it out and something with higher attack takes it, probably.
Wary of that, and I placed it face-up in attack position.
I could tell his movement stopped for an instant.
"…Ho."
Second turn, it got swept by a Trap and came back at me. Straight off, 1200 Life Points gone. 2800 left.
Third turn, I put out again. Shave while there's shaving to be done. I declared an attack. It went through. His Life Points went down 500.
Fourth turn, Blue-Eyes was already out.
Early. Last year it was a bit later.
"Out already?"
"You appear to be in a hurry."
The firepower is what it is. In one go my Life Points went under 1000. 900 left.
Normally I'd defend here. Defend, set something, wait for a next that may not come.
But I put Red-Eyes out.
And attacked with it. Of course Blue-Eyes is stronger. Left as it is I get killed on the counter. I opened the card I'd set.
This time it went through. Two dragons went out together.
Mutual destruction.
"…"
He was silent.
"Got one in, at least."
"There will not be a second."
Fifth turn, as though nothing had happened, the second Blue-Eyes appeared.
I guarded with a Trap Card, and my Life Points went to 400.
Sixth turn.
Two cards in hand.
One is pointless to play. The other is close to a gamble, but if it works I get through. If not it's over.
Three seconds, I thought about it.
Three seconds only.
My finger moved.
The result was, it didn't work.
Stopped by what he'd set.
On the seventh turn my Life Points went to zero. Shorter than before.
Solid Vision vanished.
I was standing.
No cards in hand. Used all of them.
My knees were going. Fifteen hours of standing and putting everything out in seven turns, both.
"Ah, damn…"
I dropped down where I was and sat.
Put my hands back behind me. The first time we fought I'd gone down on one knee, and last year I stayed standing.
"You never learn."
A voice from above.
"Shut up."
"I could have crushed you in three. You got off lightly."
"You didn't crush me. I took down a Blue-Eyes."
"One."
"One's still a kill."
I raised my head.
He was looking down at me.
He didn't seem to be looking down on me. Probably.
"Your face looks better than it did."
"…What?"
"You last year were duller than the first time we fought."
I stayed sitting on the floor, looking at him.
"You believed you were fighting so as not to lose, but that only extends the time of suffering before you lose."
Exactly that.
Almost exactly what I thought last month in Yugi's shop.
"…I know."
"Do you."
"Worked it out last month."
"Rather late."
"Shut up, you."
I stood up. My knees went again.
That he's strong I know well enough, but losing like that stung.
How many years since. Losing to Yugi and somehow not being sick about it — how many years did it take for this feeling to come back?
"…Kaiba."
"What."
He was in the middle of putting his coat on.
"Can I come again?"
His hand stopped and he turned round.
"Now and then's fine. Once a month, once every two months."
"State your reason."
"I wanna go pro."
Having said it, there seemed to be a lag before it reached my own ears.
It's a phrase I said out loud for the first time in three years. Different from saying it alone in the kitchen. Saying it to a person, that was more than three years ago.
"Pro Duelist. I've thought that since high school. Three years I didn't say it, but I didn't drop it. It's still in me."
He said nothing.
"For that I've gotta get stronger. To get stronger there's nothing for it but fighting strong ones."
I held up two fingers.
"Out of the ones I know, there's two stronger than me. Yugi, and you."
"Two."
"Two. I don't know the others. So it starts with these two."
I was counting.
A habit three years put in me. Without counting I don't know what I've got.
Today it was useful. Not a bad way of counting.
"Yugi told me to come again."
"He would."
"So I'm telling you too."
He straightened the collar of the coat and looked over at me.
"I see."
"What, something wrong with that? Well, if you're scared of losing to me one day—"
"Very well."
He agreed. I hadn't for a moment thought he'd agree. He can't have taken bait that transparent. If he had, he'd be glaring at me.
"Really?"
Even to me, it came out as a stupid noise.
"One condition. Stop the unannounced sales calls."
"Sorry about that. But how, then?"
"You gave Isono your contact details."
"…Huh?"
"He received your business card last year."
"That's the company card."
"A mobile number was printed on it."
It is, but it's the company-issued mobile. Not my private number.
"That's the company one too."
"Then hand it over."
I didn't have anything on me. Nothing to write private contact details on.
I stuck a hand in my pocket and a receipt came out. This morning's bread. That'll do.
I wrote the number and the address on the back. He had a pen, so I borrowed it.
He looked at it and put it in the inside pocket of the coat.
"Isono will arrange the dates."
"Yeah."
"By next time, see that it doesn't finish in seven turns."
"Don't need telling."
The door opened and I went out into the corridor.
Once out, I turned round.
"Kaiba."
"What."
"Thanks for today."
He said nothing.
After the door closed, I saw three men in black waiting in the corridor and bowed my head.
I got outside just before midnight.
A November night. Properly cold.
There was still a last train, so I walked to the station.
There was hardly anyone in the carriage, so I did sit down. Fifteen hours standing, and a Duel after it.
Tomorrow there's work. Site at half past six. I'll get about four hours' sleep, but I haven't been drinking, so I should be able to get up.
I was looking out of the window opposite.
Domino City flows past.
Tomorrow I'll give the senior managing director my answer, I thought.
He said take a week. Tomorrow is the sixth day, so it's a bit short.
But I've thought about it. No — I stood all day today, and that's how I know.
That this is the kind of thing I want to do.
Inefficient, a whole day gone, and no knowing whether you get to meet him. The kind of thing where you don't know whether you arrive.
I need time for that kind of thing.
And for that, I need to change jobs.
The order might be the wrong way round. Normally you choose the job, then do the hobby in your spare time.
I'm the other way round, and that's fine.
From the start, what I wanted to do was already decided.
The five lines three years took might become four lines after this. Even so, I don't mind.
About the plaza.
The space Joey stands in is a kōkai kūchi — a "public open space." Under Japanese planning rules, a developer who provides publicly accessible open ground at street level can be granted extra floor area for the building. The plaza belongs to KaibaCorp. The public has a right to be on it.
Which is how a man with no appointment gets to stand outside the front door of the tallest building in the city for fifteen hours without being removed.
