“Umm…”
Kaori was bound and determined to mention Chiho’s chest to her at least once a day. They were a source of jealousy for many of her peers, even if Chiho herself saw absolutely no benefit to them. The bowstring would snap against them if she wasn’t paying attention to her archery stance. She felt bad for how much the bras she had her mom buy her cost, and there was nothing very attractive about her size anyway. They hadn’t caused her any shoulder pain yet, but she’d often find a blouse she liked that was sized perfectly for her arms and shoulders, but she still couldn’t wear because the buttons wouldn’t go over her bust or she would bulge out in odd and revealing ways.
“Oh, that’s just silly,” she protested as she took her own copy of the handout from her bag and stared at it. “We gotta be serious about this. Our parents are gonna look at it, too.”
Kaori brought a hand against her forehead. “Oh, geez, I forgot about that! Now I really don’t know what to write…”
The sheet had a pretty large fill-in box meant for providing your reasons and motivations for your postgraduate choices. It made Chiho want to rub her forehead in frustration. She always struggled to reach so much as 80 percent of the required word count in composition class. The term itself—career guidance—had struck her with a sense of nameless dread ever since it first started popping up in middle school.
Chiho had taken and passed the exam to get into Sasahata North simply because it was close to her house and a good match for her academic skills. It wasn’t because of some particular specialty subject she wanted to study there. That was exactly what she’d written in her postgrad survey back in middle school. It was a little too honest for her teacher at the time, who advised her to give a bit more suitable of a reason.
Kaori hadn’t mentioned it, but she remembered some of her classmates writing about their desires to become film stars or professional athletes, only to be told by their parents and teachers not to write stupid things like that. And yet grown-ups would constantly gripe about “Oh, kids these days, they all want jobs in the government! Don’t any of them have dreams any longer?” It sounded terribly hypocritical to her, encouraging children to dream big and shooting them down when they obliged. Plus, Chiho’s policeman father was a government worker. Bluntly stating that his job was unimaginative, not worthy as a dream, made it sound like all would-be police officers were idiots in her mind. The whole career-guidance thing just seemed like a charade.
“It’s not like I know what I wanna do, either…”
“Mm? How so, Sasachi?”
“Oh, I dunno…”
Chiho sometimes felt like the whole adult world was stacked against people like her. But it wasn’t like she had some grand plan for her life she could reveal to people. It just wasn’t there in her mind. It was easy to imagine graduating from college and finding a job at a good company somewhere, but given how the news kept going on about slowing growth and how hard it was to start a career in “this economy,” she knew that scoring a decent job was about a lot more than high school test scores.
Some would-be know-it-alls on the Net even declared that a college degree didn’t actually help you at all in the job market. So why did the big companies always prefer new hires from prestigious universities? It started to make less and less sense to her.
Chiho set the handout to the side of the table, picked up her drink, and glared at it distractedly as she brought the straw to her mouth. Then she noticed the paper place mat on her tray.
“…Huh. They’re hiring part-time crewmembers.”
They pretty much always were, it seemed like, judging by how often she had seen this place mat in the past.
“Sasachi?”
“Listen, Kao—you having that job; do you think that taught you stuff about life as a grown-up that you didn’t get in school?”
“Oh, no way. I mean, pretty much all I learned was that work is a pain in the ass I can’t wait to get out of.”
She was right, no doubt, but to someone like Chiho who grew up wanting for nothing under a loving mother and father, it felt like Kaori, and her experience in a world Chiho knew nothing about, made her seem closer to adulthood than Chiho was.
“I was just thinking,” Chiho began, “maybe if I found a job, too, that’d help me figure out what I wanna do with my life. Like, with work and all.”
“Huhh?!” Kaori’s eyes burst open. “No. No way, man. Don’t do it! Didn’t you listen to anything I just said?!”
“Yeah, but…I dunno, like, at least to get some better equipment like you were talking about…”
“Well, sure, I hate bugging my parents for money for arrows all the time, but what am I gonna do? Besides, with your grades, you could easily wait ’til college to get a job.”
“Hmm… Maybe, but…”
She pictured that recent grad with the bamboo bow and arrow, the one who inspired her to take up kyudo. He probably didn’t use that all the time, but with the right job and the right salary, a work of art like that could be hers, even. And if she learned more about working along the way, that was two birds with one stone.
“Hey, Sasachi, you’re a smart girl, okay? And it’s not like you’re getting a crappy allowance or anything. You never really throw around your money anyway.”
Kaori was clearly dead set against the idea.
“Well…I mean, I’m not trying to dive right into something, but…”
Kaori and Yoshiya kept going on about how smart Chiho was, but it wasn’t like she was the top in her school or getting full-ride scholarship offers. Something in her wanted to try something new before it was too late, and she couldn’t deny that the urge was growing.
Then—
“Ah!”
Chiho shouted out loud, too lost in thought to think about her surroundings. A bag carried by a passing businessman swung close by the table, the shoulder strap all twisted up against itself, and it knocked against the drink cup she had in her hand. It didn’t hurt, but the impact caused her to let go. The paper had softened a little—she and Kaori had been sitting and chatting for a while by this point—and the fall caused the lid to pop right off upon hitting the table, immediately soaking her copy of the survey in lukewarm soda.
“Oooh…”
The businessman must have noticed the mistake he had made. But the shock didn’t end there. When the two girls looked up, they were face-to-face with someone who clearly wasn’t Japanese. He was a Western man, well built and with a bushy beard, and although he was saying something or other in rapid succession to the two of them, Chiho was too broken up over the handout to decipher any of it.
“Ooh, what should I do?”
“You all right, Sasachi?” a worried Kaori asked, just as unable to understand the foreigner as Chiho. “Oh, geez, your handout… That’s, uh, that isn’t bad, is it?”
“!”
All three parties involved knew something bad had just taken place, but nobody could get their ideas across to each other. The man, looking deeply troubled, offered a handkerchief to Chiho, even though her clothes were dry and the paper was already ruined. The two girls were lost—unsure what to do, what they should do, or even how to begin processing these events.
“Did you need some help, ma’am?” a young man intervened.
Chiho looked up at the familiar voice. It was the man with the black hair who took her order earlier, running up to their table between Kaori and the businessman. His attention was focused on the lake of warm soda on the table.
“Oh, are you all right? Are your clothes wet, or…?”
“Um, I’m fine…”
“No you aren’t, Sasachi!” Kaori finally took a moment to lift the sopping paper from the puddle. “What’re we gonna do with this handout?”
“Well, what can we do?” The paper was dripping in the air. “We can’t towel it off or anything.”
“!”
The man said something again. Chiho could tell it was English, but she was in no shape to conduct a conversation. She tried to
formulate a “that’s all right”–style response, based on the assumption that he was apologizing.
Then the employee with MAOU on his name tag spoke up.
“Um, this man said he wanted to make this up to you somehow…”
“Oh…?”
“!”
“Like, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention, so I want to make it up to you if I can.’ Is that some kind of school thing you have there?”
“Y-yes, it’s a career guidance handout,” Kaori said in place of Chiho, who was too surprised to talk. The employee gave both of them a look, then started talking to the businessman in fluent English.
<“Okay, so those documents were for career guidance purposes at her school…”>
<“Oh, really?”> The man scratched at his beard, clearly embarrassed.
“So, um, I apologize, but does your friend here have a copy of that same document?”
“Huh? Uhm, yeah, but why?”
“I’m sorry,” the employee said apologetically, “but I couldn’t help but hear you from over by the counter.”
“Oh, uh, sorry we were so loud,” Chiho replied, feeling almost as embarrassed as the businessman.
The employee meekly smiled at her. “How about we do this?” he said. “That document’s just a regular old printout, right? If your friend hasn’t filled in hers yet, I’d be happy to borrow it and have him make another copy at the convenience store nearby…”
“Ah…?”
“Uh…sure…?”
Both of them nodded, mouths agape. It was such an obvious solution, but they were in such a panic that it occurred to neither of them.
<“Actually, sir, they have another blank copy of it here. Would you mind maybe making another copy for them? There’s a pay copier at the convenience store a few doors over.”>
The businessman raised his hands, nodded, and said something.
“He asked if one of you could bring it over to the convenience store with him, since he didn’t want to risk messing up the last good copy. I can come along with you, so if you don’t mind making a little trip…”
“Oh, sure, absolutely.” Kaori, now much calmer, nodded at the employee and stood up. “That guy’ll pay for it?”
“He said he’d be willing to make a hundred copies if you wanted.”
It was the kind of Hollywood-style good humor Chiho all but expected from the foreigner.
“Wait here, okay?” Kaori said. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m going out on a customer errand!” the employee shouted to the female manager behind the counter as the three of them left.
Thanks to that Maou guy’s quick thinking, things went astonishingly smoothly from the initial frenzy. She was getting her handout back after all, something that made her feel tremendously relieved. But that wasn’t the end of it.
“Pardon me, miss…”
The beautiful manager went up to Chiho’s table and gave her a refined bow.
“Did any of your clothing get wet, perhaps?”
“Oh, uh, no, it’s all fine, ma’am.”
“Ah, great. My apologies for all the trouble, though. Would you like me to bring you a new drink and fries?”
“Huh? Oh, you don’t…”
Now Chiho was even more surprised. This manager had absolutely nothing to apologize for. Thanks to that Maou person, not only did she know the businessman apologized to her already, but she was also getting another handout, to boot. If anything, Chiho had to apologize for things erupting as they did. Getting another complete snack out of it just felt manipulative to her.
She tried to say as much to the manager, but was provided with a smile and a shake of the head instead.
“Our job here is to create the best environment we can for our customers to enjoy their meals. That’s why it’s our responsibility to make sure that any conflicts between customers can be solved as smoothly as we possibly can. It’s only natural for Maou…for that crewmember, I mean, to step in and lend a hand.”
Chiho turned back toward the door they all exited through.
“I do feel bad for getting your friend involved in all this, though. If you’re going to be leaving soon, I’d be happy to provide your replacements at a later date, as long as you bring today’s receipt with you. Would that work better for you today, miss?”
The manager’s words were pure, unadorned, and completely sincere. Chiho had all but forgotten about the incident by now. Instead, she found herself moved by the employees working so selflessly for them—the man who used his fluent English to defuse the situation, and the woman whose apology was clearly something that came from the heart.
She didn’t want to badmouth Kaori’s old boss when she wasn’t here to defend herself, but something about a workplace with these people around indicated to Chiho that she wouldn’t have to worry about employees stabbing her in the back. Something about the way she put it—“creating an environment.” Chiho thought working at MgRonald was just about making burgers and slinging them at customers. The concept suddenly seemed a lot fresher to her.
“My receipt…?” Chiho took out the receipt she had folded up and stuck in her wallet. Something on it caught her eye.
“Right,” the manager said, pointing at it. “You can bring that back in anytime you like…” But Chiho’s eyes were elsewhere—on the text at the far bottom: “HELP WANTED,” followed by a phone number.
“Umm…”
“Yes?”
What Chiho had to say next, not to put too a fine a point on it, changed the trajectory of her life forever.
“Uh, this number here is just for this location, right?”
“What? Working at the Mag?!”
“Kao, I told you, you’re being too loud!”
“Whoa, you’re gettin’ a job, Sasaki?!”
The following day at school, Chiho told her friends Kaori and Yoshiya that she had applied for a position at the MgRonald in Hatagaya. Both of them immediately shot to their feet at the news.
“After that thing that happened yesterday and all?”
“That wasn’t MgRonald’s fault,” Chiho said. “That guy apologized to us, like, a million times, too.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you, all right? ’Cause when it gets bad, it gets real bad out there.”
“Hey, Sasaki’s made of a lot different stuff from you, Shoji, y’know? How ’bout we all go there to eat once they hire her?”
“Oh, come on, Yoshiya, quit talkin’ out your ass.”
Chiho stepped in to stop the two of them from staring each other down any further.
“But, hey, why d’you want a job all of a sudden anyway?” Yoshiya asked.
“Well,” Chiho began as she fought off the marauding Kaori, “you know that handout yesterday, right? I just figured, right now, I can’t really say anything about what I want to do and be sure I’m telling the truth at all. I just figured working a little and earning some money could help me learn more about work, and life, and stuff.”
“Doubt it.”
Kaori scrunched up her face. Chiho deflected it with a chuckle: “Plus, it’s the same motive you had, Kao. I wanna get some money for archery equipment…and some other stuff.”
“Oh, totally. Wish I had some.”
“Yoshiya, if you started working, you’d be failing a lot more than just two subjects.”
“…Yeaaaaaah. Maybe.”
Yoshiya usually let it slide whenever Kaori berated his study skills. This time, though, it seemed to Chiho that he took it personally a bit.
“I mean,” he continued, “whether I’m failing two classes or twenty of ’em, you’re about the only two people who get angry at me about it. Actually, I’m kinda jealous of you, Sasaki…gettin’ all serious about this career guidance stuff and everything.”
“…Kohmura?”
Chiho could sense the loneliness behind the words.
“If you realize that, you could actually try studying for a change…”
Kaori did
n’t care.
“Ah, it’s not like they’ll be at conferences anyway. Like, I don’t even know if Mom ’n’ Dad are gonna bother showing up or not.”
“Huh? Really?”
For a school like Sasahata North that treated college prep seriously, these conferences—although they could be scheduled with a lot of leeway—were de facto mandatory for parents.
“Yeah, they don’t really give a shit about me either way.”
“Oh?”
“Huh?”
Yoshiya uttered the statement so quickly, it took a few moments for it to register with the girls.
“Oh, but hey, Sasaki,” he continued, “if they hire you, I’m gonna get Shoji and the rest of the class and we’re gonna bum-rush you during lunch, so watch out for us, okay?”
“Kohmura! Stop being stupid!” Kaori shouted.
“Aw, c’mon, Shoji! It’s fun bothering your friends at work! You never even told me where you were working, either. You’re such a party pooper!”
“Yeah, because I knew you were gonna do that to me! That job was stressful enough without getting your dumb ass involved in it!”
“Uh, h-hang on, guys,” Chiho timidly said. “I haven’t been hired yet, so…”
Reflecting for a moment, Chiho remembered that she was far from the only Sasahata North student who hung out at that MgRonald. The idea of her classmates seeing her in a different context from the classroom struck her as a tad embarrassing for reasons she couldn’t quite express.
“Man, you’re gonna totally regret telling Yoshiya in a few days, Sasachi.”
“It’s fine! I don’t care if people look at me! If they hire me, I’m gonna be there to work anyway!”
“Sweet! Lemme know once they do, okay?”
This was starting to get weird. Chiho started to regret bringing up the topic at all, even though her resolve to work remained strong as ever. She had called the number immediately upon arriving home the previous night, surprising Kisaki the manager more than a little when she came on the phone. They agreed to an interview the very next day.
She already had her parents’ permission—“as long as you keep your grades up,” they had said. And now, in class, her hands were fidgeting with the résumé in her bag, one she had created the previous evening after reading through some sample guides.
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 7 Page 14
