As we walked slowly towards her home, we came across a FamilyMart, glittering in the darkness like an RPG save point, and stopped in front of it. I bought her a bottle of water, which she chugged, spitting out self-effacing words. “I really drank too much…”
Again, we set off as I received countless words of thanks in exchange for this mere hundred-yen gift. Her steps were still unsteady and reaffirmed that I had not made the wrong choice in coming—even if perhaps she might have misunderstood me somewhere along the line.
I had to make things clear to her, I realized, hazily picturing the words in my mind as though written on the ground, when suddenly she started off, “Um…”
“What’s up?” I sputtered.
“Um, sorry for saying that I hated what Pon-chan-senpai was saying.”
“Oh, no, uh, it’s fine.”
“It’s not a lie, but could I at least explain what it was I didn’t like about it?”
“Oh, sure, go for it.”
If it was the sudden intrusion into our rather complicated relationship that she hated, I definitely felt the same way, but it didn’t seem right to bring that back up now. I wanted to know how she felt.
“Um, I guess, to put it simply, I think that the distance between people is something that’s determined on a case-by-case basis.”
“…Uh, I’m guessing that you aren’t talking about the group here?”
“I mean, that too, but I’m just saying there’s no sense in applying templates to things.” She put her palm to her forehead as though trying to determine the right words to express what she was thinking, then shortly continued. “It’s kind of embarrassing to say, but I’m drunk, so, forgive me. I do think Pon-chan was right. By all rights, you’re my senpai, so it’s fine for you to be more casual with me. But I mean, you can still be formal, if you want to.”
She took in a breath. She still did not look at me.
“I mean, like, the sort of distance that you’ve decided you and I have, I feel like that’s something more deserving of respect in society than it gets.”
The importance of distance.
“I think distance is a separate value…mmm, doctrine? A separate doctrine from friendliness. Or…something like that. Sorry, I don’t really have the words to make sense of this.”
“No, I think I get what you mean.”
That was something that I, who was always acutely aware of the distance between myself and others, who lived my life by those principles, could perfectly understand. What I could not understand, however, was what she said next.
“I think it’s pretty amazing that you’ve decided for yourself what kind of distance you wanna have from others.”
“…Huh?”
My question was delayed by several seconds while I ruminated on these words in my brain.
“Ah, I mean, I might be drunk, but I’m not usually the flatterin’ type. I really think that. I like people who have a clear sense of values in the same way that I like people who are into themselves. It’s the same way with distance.”
I suppose she was not accustomed to giving praise. She took another swig of water before looking ahead, snorting an embarrassed laugh.
I was, again, stunned by these words. It had been a very long time since anyone had affirmed that I was not being too distant from others. I was not used to having anyone look me in the eye—well, figuratively speaking—and validate my values.
“Well, um…thank you for that.”
I had no idea what other words I should offer in response, but Kawahara-san likewise seemed lost on how to continue, merely saying, “Sure thing.”
I had no idea that she had taken this in such a positive way. I had thought of her as nothing more than some rough and tumble yankee—which I say in a past tense because by this point, having met her several times outside of work, I had gotten a broader impression of her. My impressions had not changed per se, but at least I had seen more sides of her. She was a curt but carefree Kansai girl, and somehow, somewhat like me—even in the most awkward ways.
Likewise, she was not the type of person to unnecessarily prolong a conversation.
After that, we walked along through the summer night without any particular need for conversation. The most meaningful words spoken were when we saw a cat along the way and Kawahara-san said, “Oh, a cat.” I knew that she was fond of cats.
Finally, we arrived in front of a very typical student condo block. I waved off her words of gratitude before we shared some goodbyes and polite bows.
“Oh, right, I should clarify that the stuff I was saying about distance wasn’t me telling you to keep being so polite with me. It’s perfectly fine to be more casual.”
“Thanks.”
If I had been the sort of person who could then immediately say, “Well then, see ya,” I probably would have had a lot more friends, and a far more troublesome university life.
“Guess I’ll just do my best to catch you off guard then,” I said, giving my best attempt at a joke. Kawahara-san laughed.
“Sure, I’ll be waiting for that.”
She thanked me one more time, then bowed her head again and headed into the building. I stood there for some time, waiting until I heard a door close on an upper floor, and then climbed onto my bike.
There were times when I had wondered how I ought to get back at Tousuke for saying things to me like, “It’s not a bike you should’ve been riding then,” but then, he had gotten me a pretty decent-paying one-off part-time position, so it was water under the bridge.
Before he started job hunting, Tousuke had put those communication skills of his to full use working as a tutor at a large cram school. I was never the type to make much use of cram schools, so I knew little about them. Still, I knew enough to know that a cram school tutor was absolutely the wrong type of job for me, as part of the position of tutor entailed having discussions with high school students. Using his connections there, however, he learned about an opening for a proctor for mock exams, which he shared with me. The pay was good enough that I could overlook his bawdy punchlines.
I put on my suit for the first time since job hunting and met up with him in front of the cram school in question early in the morning. After greeting each other, we headed to a room that the receptionist indicated, where we found a number of long tables with a number of suits already sitting at them, so we took our spot in the back. Eventually, as we sat there in silence, a young man showed up and explained the job to us. I’ll spare you the details, but it was a simple job, which mostly entailed handing out test forms, watching over the test takers, and collecting the answer sheets at the end.
We looked over the materials and were each sent out to our respective classrooms. The room I was in charge of was a long lecture hall that could seat about a hundred. It no longer contained tables but individual desks. I spent the time waiting for the test takers to arrive tidying up the desks into straight rows. The sound of the desks scraping the floor resounded sharply.
Finally, the time arrived, and the test takers filed into the classroom. I turned to them and read out the rote warnings that were written on the front blackboard, confirmed the numbers on the exam stubs, and so on and so forth. Honestly, the students were mostly just reading the blackboard, so no one was listening very closely to what I was saying.
Easy-peasy.
At the appointed time, I handed out the exam forms and announced the start of the test. All I had to do from there was kick back in the folding chair at the front of the room until the test was done without somehow falling asleep, occasionally taking a cursory look around or strolling about the room.
After one lap around the classroom, I sat down with a sigh, staring at the tops of the students’ lowered heads, all in neat rows. It reminded me of a nest of some kind of creature—though the studious creatures varied in color and length of their hair, in body shape and clothing, they all made the same, basic motions. If one were to assume that we job hunters looked the same way to real professionals, then working in HR must have been quite the daunting task. After all, they had to try and pick out a preferred candidate from a pool of people who all, more or less, looked and acted the same. There were resumes and personality tests and interviews and group discussions. If, despite them wading through all of that in search of the ideal candidate, someone like me still managed to deceive them, then I truly felt sorry for those saps.