Two documents are put on the table. The seals are already affixed at the company's end; only Joey's line is blank. One settles two years of unpaid overtime, twenty-one days of leave about to lapse, and 95,000 yen he counted himself on a bench last August. The other moves his start date back a month. He signs the first and cannot sign the second, and asks the question he has not asked in five years.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 13 三枚
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
They offered a car, but I refused, went out through the gate and walked.
Walking it, the station took thirty minutes.
On the way I stopped at a convenience store and bought water, and drank it as I walked.
That I hadn't thanked him, I noticed after I got to the station.
I said it to the woman. Thank you very much, and bowed my head and left. I said it to Mokuba too. Thanks, I said. Said it without knowing what for.
But him, I still haven't told.
The one to say it to wasn't in the house.
He'd gone out to work from Saturday morning.
Waiting for the train on the platform, I looked at my phone.
Nothing had come from Isono.
The next date isn't fixed.
Would it be all right to get in touch myself, and if so, saying what.
Do I type thanks for yesterday.
I went to type it, and stopped. Because I remembered last June.
In the corridor, going to thank him for the water, and being told that matter is finished.
Probably it'd be the same. The thanks doesn't get received.
I got on the train.
Word came from Isono on the Sunday evening.
Tuesday 23 February, 19:00, head office basement test play room. Would this suit?
I'll be there
After I sent the reply I thought about it a bit.
Do I say thanks on the day of the Duel?
I'm going there to Duel, so I should Duel. The thanks can go alongside it.
That's what I thought, and in those three days I didn't touch the cards once.
Monday and Tuesday I was at home.
The rest of the leave. Five days left. I stopped counting, so it isn't exact, but about that.
On Monday the phone rang once.
Not the section chief. One of the admin staff.
"Mr. Wheeler, sorry — the address for your leaving paperwork, is the current one all right?"
"It's fine."
"And the locker key, did we get that back from you?"
"I returned it. On the last day."
"Ah, here it is. Sorry."
"It's fine."
After I hung up I sat for a while.
Nobody's said anything about Friday night.
From the section chief, since those five that morning, nothing. I replied that I was fine, and it ended there.
How did that lot process me disappearing partway through my own send-off?
Went home early, drunk. It'll have been filed under that.
That's how it goes.
I cleaned the room.
Threw away four years of paperwork. Kept the payslips. Kept the notebooks too.
While I was sorting the throw-away from the keep, it got to evening.
At night I went to touch the cards, and again I didn't.
Tuesday morning, I ironed a shirt.
I'm going to Duel, and I'm ironing.
Why am I ironing, I thought.
23 February, Tuesday.
I got to the KC building at 18:40.
Take the card at reception. A procedure I'm used to now.
Down in the elevator to the basement.
Walked the corridor and stood in front of the door.
The door opened and he was already there.
Duel Disk already fitted, coat not on.
"So you came."
"Yeah."
I went into the room and put the backpack down.
But I didn't get the Duel Disk out yet.
"Prepare."
"Ah…"
I looked at the backpack.
The deck's in it. The Duel Disk is in it. I've brought them.
He was looking at me.
"You appear to have no will to fight today."
"That's not it."
"Then why are you standing."
I opened my mouth. And closed it again.
"…First. There's something to say."
"Something to say."
"Something to say."
He said nothing.
He went to the table set by the wall and pulled out a chair. Where we do the post-mortem.
He sat.
I sat opposite.
"Say it."
I laced my hands on my knees.
"Last week. Thanks."
I got the thanks out.
He said nothing.
He didn't say that matter is finished, either.
Silent, looking at me.
"That day, I don't remember. Only as far as coming out of the shop. So I don't know what happened. But you put me in the car, didn't you."
"I did."
"And had me taken to your house."
"What of it."
"That's what I mean, that."
I hunted for words.
"How to put it — I'm sorry about it, and I'm grateful."
"…"
"And in the morning, I got fed as well."
"That was not me."
"It's your house. So it's you."
He was quiet a moment.
"I see."
That was all. I wasn't cut off. It threw me a little. Over that much, the strength went out of my body.
The one I couldn't say last June, I said.
"And another thing."
"There is more?"
"There is."
I carried on.
"Mokuba said something about the paid leave."
"I see."
"Said it's not right, being on leave."
"It is a fact."
"Yeah, it was a fact. Mokuba was right."
I nodded.
"It's a fact, but. Four years, I didn't think it was weird. Because everyone round me was the same."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I had it looked into."
He said it in passing.
I raised my head.
"Looked into — what."
He stood up.
Walked over and brought something back from the desk by the wall.
Paper.
Two sheets.
He put them on the table.
Put them in front of me.
"Read."
I looked at the first.
The title comes into view. Agreement, it said.
Below it, a block for the parties.
Party A, Minami Setsubi Co., Ltd. Party B, Joseph Wheeler.
I read it.
There was a clause on settlement of unpaid overtime allowance. An amount is written. Two years' worth.
Below it, a clause on purchase of untaken annual leave. Days, unit rate, and total.
Below that, settlement of money advanced.
An amount was written.
95,000 yen.
That's the figure I counted last August on a bench outside a convenience store.
How does he know it.
At the bottom there was a signature block.
At Party A, a seal has already been affixed. Minami Setsubi's company seal, and the representative's.
At Party B, blank.
The place where my name goes.
"…What is this."
"Exactly as you read it."
"No, why does something like this exist."
"Read the second."
The second was a different document.
Memorandum
Party A, Yamato Setsubi Kogyo Co., Ltd. Party B, Joseph Wheeler.
The content was short.
The start date is changed from 1 March to 1 April. That was all.
I read it again. In short, joining is delayed by one month.
March comes free, entirely.
I looked at the signature block.
This one too had a seal already affixed at Party A. Yamato Setsubi Kogyo, the representative director's seal.
At Party B, blank.
"…You."
"What."
I picked up the paper.
The hand holding it shook slightly.
In this town, there's only one person who can do this.
Minami Setsubi's company seal, and Yamato Setsubi's company seal. Neither of them did I get affixed. The person who can get them affixed is in front of me.
"Don't decide things on your own."
"I have decided nothing. There is no signature."
"That's not the point."
I put the paper on the table.
"This is my company. The company I got taken on by. I sat the interview, I gave the answer, that's how it was settled."
"It is."
"And you come into that, and—"
"And?"
"Why are you coming into it!"
Having said it, I surprised myself.
He wasn't surprised.
Silent, looking at me.
"I haven't been in a single day yet."
I said.
"I met him once at an interview. Haven't even introduced myself. And then, please move the start date — who said that?"
"I did."
"Yes, you did! No, that isn't what I mean!"
I'd stopped knowing what I was saying myself.
Even so, I carried on.
"How do you think it looks from their end. They moved the schedule for a new man who hasn't even turned up. They'll have staffing worked out. On the basis that I'm in from March, there's a seat and a desk ready."
"There appears to be."
"Then you understand!"
"I understand."
"You understood, and you did it anyway?"
He didn't answer.
Didn't answer, and pointed at the first sheet on the table.
"Wheeler. Look at the first."
"I've looked."
"Did you read the leave clause."
"I read it. It says purchase."
"Do you understand the meaning."
I opened my mouth.
Opened it, and closed it.
"…You turn it into money."
"You do. Is that all."
"…"
I didn't know.
Leave turns into money. That's what it says.
But why it turns into money, I don't know.
"Is it different from severance pay?"
Having asked, I felt I'd asked something stupid.
He didn't laugh.
"It is a different thing. Severance pay is paid for length of service. It depends on company policy. Purchase of leave is payment for a right you held."
"A right."
"Annual paid leave is a worker's right. At the point it is granted it becomes yours."
"…Right."
"You had thirty-one days remaining."
"I did."
"Of those you used ten. Twenty-one remain."
"Twenty-one."
"Those twenty-one lapse as of 28 February."
I raised my head.
"They vanish?"
I have a feeling the section chief said something like that.
"They vanish. Leave is a right held while in employment. Resign and it cannot be exercised."
"…Then, the twenty-one days."
"If nothing is done, they vanish."
I looked at the table.
Twenty-one.
A full month's worth. Four years of work, and of that, twenty-one days I held a right to rest.
One day. That's all I used of my own accord.
"Converting what will vanish into money is permitted."
He went on.
"Purchase of leave is, as a rule, unlawful. If you allow a practice of paying money instead of granting rest, the system loses its meaning."
"That figures."
"There is an exception. Untaken leave at resignation is certain to lapse. Buying out what will vanish does not produce a result of rest being withheld. For that reason it is permitted."
"…I see."
"It is not an obligation. It is at the company's discretion. Many companies do not comply."
"Did Minami comply?"
"They were made to."
He said it in passing.
I was quiet a moment.
"How."
"There is two years of unpaid overtime allowance. If the Labour Standards Inspection Office moves, that alone is grounds for a recommendation to correct. In addition, there is a record of you performing work during a period of paid leave."
"Record?"
"Incoming call logs, entry and exit records for the days you entered the office, the venues' own records of the entertaining. All of it remains."
I opened my mouth.
"How would you even—"
"This town is under my management. In addition, your company is a client of a client of mine."
That's probably reason enough on its own.
"I presented Minami Setsubi with two options."
he said.
"One, comply with settlement. Two, decline and be investigated."
"…You threatened them."
"I set out facts."
"Same thing."
"It is not."
He looked at me.
"Intimidation is established where what is stated is not fact. Or where an illegitimate demand is forced through. What I demanded was payment of legitimate compensation for labour, and purchase of a right about to lapse. Both are permitted by law."
I couldn't answer back.
"Wheeler."
"What."
"The money on the first sheet is yours."
"…"
"The overtime allowance is what you worked. The purchase of leave is payment for a right you held. The advanced money is money you advanced."
"I know that."
"You have the face of someone who does not, which is why I am saying it. You are treating it as charity."
I said nothing.
I had been.
What I'd been thinking, he'd hit.
"This is money owed back to you. It is not money you are being given."
"…"
"On that basis, the second sheet."
He pointed at the other one.
"March comes free. The money comes out of the first sheet. Twenty-one days' purchase and two years of arrears. Enough to live a month on."
The arithmetic came out.
There's nothing to object to.
I looked at the amount on the first sheet again.
Looked, and then took the pen.
At some point, it had been put on the table.
I signed the first.
Joseph Wheeler.
Wrote it.
Wrote it, and reached for the second.
But my hand stopped. I couldn't hold the pen.
"Why do you not write."
"…I can't."
"Why."
I was looking at the second sheet.
Party A, Yamato Setsubi Kogyo Co., Ltd.
"It's not money I didn't work for. That, I understood. Understood, but."
"Say it."
"I haven't done anything for them. Me."
I said.
"I sat an interview and got taken on. That's all. I haven't worked a single day. I've been no use to them. And they move the schedule for me."
"They do."
"And besides, why does it end up with me resting."
I put the paper back on the table.
"The money I get. That it's money owed back, I get that. So take the money and just work normally from March. Why does the rest come as a set with it."
"Rest."
"That's what I'm asking, why."
"Last week you were sitting in the road."
I said nothing.
"Before that, last May, you were sitting in front of a guard rail."
"…"
"Twice. I have seen it twice, and I do not assume that is all of it."
I went to say something.
But the words wouldn't come, again.
"Your body has been worn down over these four years. It shows in the records."
"Records."
"In four years, you have not missed a single day."
"…What's wrong with that."
"I did not say it was wrong."
he said.
"Did you never catch a cold."
"I did. I caught them and I went in."
"Fever."
"There was. Around thirty-eight, there was."
"You went in."
"I went in."
"How many times."
"…Twice, or three times."
"And you call that healthy."
I said nothing.
"That you did not take a day off in four years is not because your body is strong. It is because you were inside a system that does not let you rest."
"…"
"The leave you used in four years is eleven days. Of those, ten were used after your resignation was settled. In effect, one day."
"…That's right."
"On that one day, you stood for fifteen hours in front of my building."
I raised my head.
"On your day off, that is what you did."
I couldn't answer back.
"Next, the health check."
"Health check? I'm fine."
"Your records exist only from the time you joined."
I thought about it a bit.
Thought, and remembered.
I had one in the autumn of the first year. A bus came into the office car park, we were called in order, height and weight measured, blood taken.
The second year.
"…Hang on."
"You remember."
"Second year, I think I was on site."
"The third."
"…"
I don't remember.
Not remembering means I didn't have one.
"There is an obligation to carry it out once a year. It is the employer's obligation. It is not a matter of whether you take it."
"I didn't know."
"You were not told, presumably."
That might be so.
Put that way, it's so. That day, the day the bus came, I was on site. Nobody called me back.
"But I'm living normally—"
"There are three years with no record."
He cut across me.
"What state your body is in, nobody knows on paper. Including you."
"…"
"If you have an objection, make it after you have had the health check."
I closed my mouth. Because there was nothing to answer with.
"If you work from March, you will carry on the same. At the new company, you will work the same way again."
"That place isn't like that."
"I dare say not."
he said.
"But you spent four years learning that way of working. Change the environment, and what has gone into the body remains. You go to a company where you can leave on time — and do what."
I couldn't answer.
"A month will clear it."
"Clear it."
"You will become able to bear time in which you do not work. As you are, resting must leave you unsettled."
He'd hit it.
A week into the leave, I was unsettled. I was waiting for the phone to ring. When it rang I was relieved.
I was relieved. I was.
"…Why do you understand that much."
"I look, and I see."
"There's no way—"
"Can you tell me there is no way."
I couldn't.
"That'd make a terrible first impression."
I brought it back.
Brought it back because there I could still say something.
"At the interview, the senior managing director told me. People who decide on impulse leave on impulse. Told me to take a week, and I called on the sixth day. From that point I'm already down as a lightweight."
"…"
"And now on top of that, please move my start date. They'll think some kid went crying to you."
"Do you think so."
"Anyone would."
He looked at me and was quiet a moment.
Then he put a hand inside his coat pocket.
He took out paper. Folded in four. The creases were as square as a fresh handkerchief.
Opened it and put it on the table.
"Read this as well."
This one wasn't a contract.
It was a printout of an email.
In the sender field, Yamato Setsubi Kogyo, and the senior managing director's name.
In the recipient field, one address.
@kaibacorp.co.jp
The part before it read seto.kaiba.
I was looking at that. Then I read the body.
President Kaiba,
Thank you for your message.
The change to the start date is understood. We will handle the March staffing at our end, so please have no concerns on that score.
We too have no wish to put a man out on site in a worn-down state. We will have Wheeler working properly from April.
If I may add one thing. That man telephoned the day after his interview. I told him to take a week over it, and he came back on the sixth day. That is the sort of man he is.
We will make him rest in March. We will make him rest, but I doubt he will.
We will keep an eye on him with that in mind.
Nakahara
Senior Managing Director
Yamato Setsubi Kogyo Co., Ltd.
I read it back several times.
That is the sort of man he is.
We will make him rest in March. We will make him rest, but I doubt he will.
We will keep an eye on him with that in mind.
That's what it said.
The senior managing director's words.
The man who said, at the interview, no. The man who said people who decide on impulse leave on impulse.
I'd thought I was down as a lightweight.
I'd thought it, and this man had remembered that I called on the sixth day.
Remembered it, and wrote it down as, that is the sort of man he is.
He's only met me at an interview, and he writes this.
I put the paper down.
For a while, I couldn't say anything.
"…"
"Sign."
I took the pen, and then raised my head.
"Why go that far."
Having said it, I thought, ah.
Because I noticed that at last, I'd asked.
Five years ago, when the key came down through the water at the pier, I didn't ask. Last May, when I was handed water, I didn't ask. Last week, when I was put in the car, I didn't ask.
Now, I asked it.
"Why are you doing this much for me?"
He was looking straight at me.
He didn't answer at once.
A second, or two. About that much, but for him it was long.
He always answers straight away. Whatever you ask. Duels or work, he doesn't leave a gap.
And now he's leaving one.
I was looking at him too.
And then something moved inside me, and I looked away in a hurry.
Looked away, and it was late.
Something hadn't made it in time.
"…"
"…"
Neither of us said anything.
I dropped my face and signed the second.
Joseph Wheeler.
Wrote it, and put the pen down.
When I put it down, my palm was sweating.
He stood up and took the first and second sheets. He didn't touch the third.
"Can you Duel."
"…Sorry, today my head's in a tangle."
"I see."
"From tomorrow, I'll do it. I'll have the time."
"Do that."
He squared the papers and passed beside me.
Before he passed, he stopped.
There was a small knock of the floor.
I stayed sitting and went to raise my head.
Partway up, a shadow fell.
Only, it was close.
Something touched my lips.
I don't think it was a second.
And then it went.
I couldn't move.
He said nothing.
He straightened up as he was, took the papers, and walked towards the door.
At the door, he turned round.
I don't know why, but he was smiling as though something amused him.
"When you have rested enough, come and challenge me."
The door opened, and closed.
I was sitting.
I was looking at the third sheet, left on the table. Not reading it.
The printout of the senior managing director's email.
I was only meant to be looking at paper, and I noticed my face was hot.
Held a hand to it to check, and it isn't only my face, my hand is hot too.
What happened, I know.
I know, and I can't process it.
After breathing out a long one, I looked at the paper.
My eyes stopped at the recipient field.
seto.kaiba@kaibacorp.co.jp
I put out a finger and traced the letters gently.
Paper with ink on it. Touching it with a finger, it isn't hot, and nothing changes.
Even so, I traced it.
The s, the e, the t, the o.
He got in touch with the senior managing director.
My company, the company I sat an interview for, the man who took me on — and he got in touch with him.
For me.
I asked for nothing, and he looked into it, produced figures, had seals affixed, sent an email to the senior managing director.
And the senior managing director wrote a reply to that email.
We will make him rest in March. We will make him rest, but I doubt he will.
I stopped my finger. Why is he doing all this.
I took the finger away without meaning to, and even so I sat a while longer, looking at the address.
The room was quiet, only the sound of the equipment fans.
I folded the paper again. Folded it in four and put it in the backpack.
Stood up and went to the door.
Stopped in front of the door and turned round.
There was nobody.
The test play room is wide. There's nobody.
I opened my mouth.
"…When's the next Duel."
I think I was probably smiling too.
My voice went off towards the ceiling.
About buying out unused leave.
Buying out annual paid leave is, as a rule, unlawful in Japan, for exactly the reason Kaiba gives: if an employer can pay cash instead of granting rest, the right stops meaning anything. The exception is leave that is already certain to lapse — most commonly at resignation. Buying that out cannot result in rest being withheld, because the rest was already gone. It is permitted, but it is not compulsory, and plenty of companies simply decline.
