Those Who Are Not Protected - Chapter 1: Episode 5.1

This year, autumn was very short. Just last week, the heat made people dizzy, but starting yesterday, the wind blew, and it suddenly turned cold. Could it be that the seasons inside the walls and outside the walls don’t follow the same order?

Tonegawa Katsuhisa hugged his body, wearing only a shirt, and looked at the map in his hand. The place he was supposed to go to was about 500 metres away, at the left turn at the three-way intersection.

As he glanced around, he noticed a convenience store nearby. That’s when he realized he hadn’t eaten anything yet today. There were still more than forty minutes until his interview, so he had plenty of time. Tonegawa decided to go into the store.

It had been a long time since he last entered a place like this, and the wide variety of items made him feel a little dizzy. While the food and drinks were one thing, the shelves filled with daily goods held items he had never seen or heard of before. Waterproof phone cases, selfie sticks, phone chargers, and screen protectors. He had no idea what the products were for since he didn’t own a smartphone.

At first, he was overwhelmed by everything in the store. But after a while, a quiet sense of unease and loneliness crept up from under his feet. He had visited Sendai several times before, but standing here now, he felt like he had been dropped in a foreign country, completely out of place. In this swiftly evolving world, merely a few years could transform an individual into a distant stranger. In contrast, time inside the walls seemed to move much more slowly. No, perhaps the time in there had entirely stopped.

Shaking off those thoughts, he made his way to the prepared food section. Among the familiar items, there were things he didn’t expect to see. When he checked the price tags, they showed both the price before tax and the price with tax included. The odd, uneven numbers in the taxed price caught his eye, but what shocked him more was how high the tax rate had become.

Even inside the walls, they had news reports. Tonegawa knew that the consumption tax had gone up from five to eight percent. But since he hadn’t done any real shopping, he never truly felt the difference until now. Thinking about his life from now on, such a high tax rate seemed like a real headache. But then again, considering how his life inside the walls had been protected by these taxes, he felt he had no right to complain.

In the end, Tonegawa bought an omelette rice and a bottle of green tea, which cost him 523 yen in total. In his wallet, he only had a 10,000 yen bill and three 1,000 yen bills.

The convenience store had a big parking lot, so he sat on a concrete block there and opened the lid of his omelette rice. When the cashier had asked, “Do you want it heated up?” he had nodded without hesitation. Now, feeling the warmth rising from the bottom of the container, he was deeply grateful.

He took a big bite, filling his mouth with the sweet taste of fried egg and the sourness of ketchup. It was so delicious that tears almost welled up in his eyes. Everything he ate outside the walls was rich in flavor. For the past few years, everything he had was low-salt and low-calorie, and both the rice and soup were always cold. The prison officers would babble about how it was good for health, but at the same time, they looked down on them, calling them “hopeless gluttons”. But really, what’s the point of keeping a hopeless glutton healthy?

He consumed the last bite of food with green tea and finally felt human again, as if the tension had left him. Now he just had to head to his interview — perfect timing. He tossed the empty He placed the container into the trash can next to the shop and then stepped back onto the street. He wanted to cross to the other side, but there was no crosswalk, so he jaywalked.

Just as he stepped onto the road, a car came from the opposite lane. It was still some distance away.

Judging by the car’s speed and his walking pace, he should have had plenty of time — or so he thought.

But he miscalculated.

The moment he crossed the center line, a deafening honk resounded at him. Reflexively, he turned his head. The car was right there.

There wasn’t even time to shout — his whole body froze.

The car loomed large in front of him.

I’m going to get hit! That thought flashed through his mind, but just then, the car swerved sharply to the left and brushed right past him.

It jumped onto the sidewalk and quickly returned to its lane, speeding off. The driver was probably cursing him out behind the wheel.

Tonegawa let out a breath of relief before the fear set in.

If the driver’s steering had been off by even a little, he’d be under the wheels right now, and it was probably lucky he’d been so frozen with fear that he couldn’t move.

When he reached the opposite side, cold sweat poured from his armpits. His heart started pounding, and a chill hit his stomach.

Another reminder he’d become an Urashima Taro* — Tonegawa thought he needed to hurry and adapt. He wasn’t planning on going back behind those prison walls. He had to shake off this out-of-place feeling and get used to the outside world again.

*(Note: Urashima Taro is a figure from Japanese folklore who returns home after years of being away and find everything changed — often used as a metaphor for feeling out of place after being away.)*

Banmaki Ironworks was a job opportunity arranged through his parole officer. They said the lathe skills Tonegawa learnt while in prison would be put to good use there.

The workshop sat next to the office. As soon as he stepped inside, the smell of metal and anti-rust paint hit him hard. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but ironically, it brought a strange sense of nostalgia.

An older woman sat inside the office. Tonegawa gave his name and explained his purpose, and she went to the back. A short, grey-haired man came out instead.

This man was the owner, Banmaki.

“You’re right on time — excellent, excellent.”

“My name is Katsuhisa Tonegawa. Pleased to meet you.”

Once Banmaki sat down, Tonegawa pulled out his resume from the bag slung over his shoulder. He had written it last night at his parole officer Kushiya’s house. It had taken several tries to get it right, and Kushiya had even lent him a clear folder, saying, “Make sure it doesn’t get wrinkled.”

But Banmaki only glanced at it before setting it on the table.

“Aren’t you going to look at my résumé?”

“Doesn’t really matter. Kushiya’s recommendation is the best resume I could ask for. If he says you’re good, that’s good enough for me.”

Banmaki gestured for Tonegawa to sit across from him.

“Kushiya’s done a lot for us small businesses. But even if that weren’t the case, I really respect the guy. Not many people volunteer to be parole officers these days ; he’s been doing it for over a decade. That’s not something just anyone can do.”

Then Banmaki started going on about what a wonderful man Kushiya was.

Just as Tonegawa was starting to feel impatient that the topic hadn’t shifted back to him, Banmaki changed his tone with Tonegawa.

“So I hear you’ve got lathe experience?”

“Yes, I hold a Level 2 Machining Technician license.”

“Oh, Level 2, huh?”

Banmaki’s Tonegawa gave no clue whether he was impressed or indifferent.

Machining Technician certifications have four levels:

• • Level 3: Over six months of practical experience.

• • Level 2: Over two years of practical experience.

• • Level 1: Over seven years.

• • Special Grade: Requires five more years after Level 1.

Tonegawa had taken the Level 2 exam while in prison — and he passed on his third try. He’d wanted to go further but got out before accumulating the seven years needed for Level 1.

“Are you thinking of going for the next level?”

“Yes.”

“Most guys build up experience while they go for higher levels. How long until you hit seven years?”

“Two more years.”

“Good. Once you get Level 1, you’ll be in demand at any ironworks. And you’re only thirty — having Level 2 at that age is pretty solid. Unexpectedly, encountering difficulties during your twenties could prove to be advantageous.

Then, Banmaki suddenly lowered his voice.

“So, what exactly did you do to end up inside?”

Tonegawa hadn’t expected that question and was taken aback.

“Uh… Didn’t Mr Kushiya explain that to you?”

“He just said to take care of you. He avoided mentioning your background or character. However, he’s not the type to gossip about such matters.”

“Do I have to say it?”

“Of course. If you’re going to be working here, I need to know at least the basics.”

“So… there’s no way around it?”

“You’ve paid your debt, haven’t you? Nothing to hide now, right?”

Tonegawa hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but he also couldn’t afford to anger Banmaki. He hesitated for a moment before deciding.

“…I assaulted someone.”

When he admitted it, Banmaki’s eyes widened.

“Huh? You went to prison just for that?”

“I went too far, and I had a record from before.”

“Oh. That’s pretty…”

He trailed off. Pretty what? Was he thinking Tonegawa’s violence was close to attempted murder?

Banmaki’s reaction was just as Tonegawa expected. Even people who claimed to support ex-cons getting a second chance would feel a jolt of fear once they heard about their violent past. Probably wondering if they’d be the next to get hit.

Strangely enough, confessing his record gave Tonegawa a weird sort of confidence. Although Tonegawa was unaware of Banmaki’s business acumen, he believed that the man had likely never engaged in physical violence, giving Tonegawa the advantage.

Yet Banmaki’s curiosity went beyond what Tonegawa had expected.

“So… who exactly did you hit?”