"I'm exhausted."
That was all I could say. I had used my precious fresh graduate card to land a job at a top-tier company in the industry, only to find it was a black company. The pay was good, but we weren't treated like humans. It was an unbearable trade-off. Even when I took bereavement leave for my parent's funeral, I was forced to work because they couldn't find a replacement. The workplace was always short-staffed. I knew leaving first would be easier, but what about those left behind? That misplaced sense of kindness and responsibility only led to me being exploited.
In the end, the pay was still low...
If I had stayed until retirement, I could have received tens of millions in severance. But if I quit halfway, I would get less than a tenth of that. It was a harsh system that ensured financial difficulties in the future.
(But what should I do? How should I use it?)
Inside, I felt a small thrill of excitement.
I finally managed to shut up my boss, who kept dodging my resignation letter. With the help of the labor board and the police, I silenced his self-righteous lectures about "considering others." On my last day, they suddenly dumped handover documents on me, saying, "Just do as much as you can." I left without touching them. At that point, I was invincible.
I had nothing left to lose...
No house, no girlfriend, no family, no wife or kids to protect, not even a pet. I hadn't had the luxury to consider such things. The company had a system where only those with mortgages and families—anchors that kept them bound—were promoted. As someone without those ties, my salary never increased, only my taxes, workload, and responsibilities. I never had the time or money to think about marriage. And before I knew it, I was a 30-year-old virgin—a so-called wizard.
Starting now...?
Needless to say, a man in his thirties had no market value. Only the labels attached to him and the money he held had worth; the man himself was just an accessory.
It was a cruel reality.
"Men under 160 cm don't have human rights." That's what they told me at the matchmaking agency. "Don't come here after quitting your job," they basically said.
Well, it's not like I had another source of income anyway...
A while back, it was the era of the Lehman shock and mass layoffs. Everywhere was in recession. Neither new graduates nor mid-career workers were being hired.
Terrible timing...
I realized that after quitting. But even if I had stayed, I would have been stuck in a slow and inevitable decline.
The moment I resigned, I fell sick and was bedridden for a week. That was probably my limit.
We were the second post-war baby boom generation. By the time we became aware of the world, we were swallowed by the collapse of the bubble economy. No good job prospects. No political salvation. Some even called us a "discarded generation." There were too many of us, so we weren't treated with care. Using the excuse of a bad economy, we were denied raises and promotions. When layoffs happened, the workload only increased for those who remained.
And in the end, they blamed us for not earning enough, saying our generation caused the recession.
That was our life—one of headwinds and adversity.
At the Hello Work employment office, a long line of jobless people stretched out the door. Meanwhile, my so-called top-tier company turned out to have neglected employment insurance payments. No unemployment benefits for me...
Amid all this, I thought I'd take a cheap bus tour to an onsen to unwind. But as soon as I got on, I blacked out.
And here I am.
I finally remembered everything. I must have died somehow.
I really did want to go to an onsen...
I reflected on it. Did I die from an economy-class syndrome in the bus? Did I get caught in a tunnel collapse? Was it a bus accident? The details didn't matter much.
Drenched in fever, I seemed to have had a bad dream.
I opened my eyes and waited for my body to wake up.
What mattered was that, for some reason, I was here now. And that my existence was recognized and wanted.
Then... maybe it's okay for me to be here?
That was my conclusion.
So, let's enjoy life a little.
I'm sweating. Maybe I should take a bath?