NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 0 - Hisabashi Ritsu (47)
“Ugh… finally done~.”
I tore my gaze away from the laptop screen I had been fixated on and let out a long, satisfying stretch. The chair’s backrest creaked slightly as I leaned back, echoing the faint cracks in my neck and back as I stretched.
After a moment of loosening my stiff body, a tired sigh escaped my lips, “Ahh~…”
I am Hisabashi Ritsu, 47 years old. I’m a single man living alone in a small apartment in the city.
I haven’t been perpetually single, but my life hasn’t been particularly remarkable either. It’s not that I actively avoided marriage; I just never actively pursued it. Simply drifting through life, I ended up as an unremarkable middle-aged man at 47. That’s me.
I reached for the keyboard connected to my laptop and closed the text editor and compiler I had been working with. My profession? I’m a programmer.
I work for a company that falls under the category of a trading firm, although we’re relatively small within the industry. I specialize in creating various in-house business support applications and mainly handle computer and network maintenance.
We utilize systems from major software companies for extensive management tasks. What I handle, however, are the applications that, though costly to outsource, significantly enhance our operational efficiency.
Yet, it’s not a department directly generating profits. Despite the grand title of the System Development Department, it’s a small division with only three members, excluding me: our balding mid-50s section chief and an anime enthusiast in his late 30s. Surprisingly, we’re all single, making our department an anomaly with a 50% female ratio.
Speaking of the anime enthusiast, on his very first morning at work, he spent his time arranging seven of his favorite figures (prizes he’d won) meticulously on his desk. When our section chief inquired about his actions, he boldly declared, “I can’t work until this is done!” He was truly a dedicated soul.
Later, when I mentioned it to a friend, they simply said, “Oh, there are people like that too.”
Is that normal, or…?
—
Several years ago, a global pandemic struck, and its effects continue to linger. To prevent the spread of infection, the government began encouraging remote work. The logic was simple: reduce physical contact, reduce the risk.
Thanks to this situation, I now work from home. I need only attend the office one to three days a week, following a rotating schedule. I’ve already gone into the office this Monday, where I reviewed this week’s tasks with our section chief. I just finished those tasks now.
It’s 11:20 AM on Thursday.
I leaned back, my arms crossed, resting my chin in my hand, lost in thought for a moment. Is it really okay to finish work so early?
I didn’t exaggerate the simplicity of the tasks, nor did I overload my schedule. The workload was appropriate.
But why did I manage to finish so quickly—
(It’s because of remote work… well, blaming others won’t change anything, I suppose.)
I stretched my body again, twisting my neck. It made a satisfying crack.
When you work in an office, there is something called “regular working hours.” Although it varies due to flextime systems and such depending on the company, it’s generally eight hours a day, starting and ending at specific times.
In the past, the routine of going to the office in the morning and returning home when the workday was over posed no problem.
As an ordinary working adult, I had been living that life for over 20 years.
But now, a completely different element had been added: remote work.
I’m not good at switching gears. I’m aware that I’m a slow starter even when it comes to work. However, until now, there was a “ritual” called commuting, a ritual I used to switch gears, utilizing the commute time to ease into work mode. I would walk from my apartment to the station, gradually switching on my work mode while swaying in the crowded train. By the time I arrived at the office, I would be fully in work mode.
However, remote work eliminated that ritual. There was no important ritual to switch gears. This became a dilemma for me.
Work didn’t progress as I wished, and I often had to use weekends to catch up on unfinished tasks.
Then again, in the job of a programmer, such situations were not uncommon. In software development, it’s not rare to stay overnight at the office before significant milestones like master-ups or alpha and beta tests. This was what they call the “death march.”
So, using weekends to fill gaps in work wasn’t anything special for me. And that experience and mindset became a significant factor this time, at least one of the main reasons.
Previously, I struggled with switching to “on” mode, but this time, it was difficult to switch to “off” mode. Since there was no fixed end time, I kept pounding on the keyboard endlessly. My hands only stopped when they gave in to exhaustion and I fell asleep.
On another note, when it comes to programming, what’s the ratio between “thinking about the program” and “actually coding it”? Is it 5:5 or maybe 3:7?
When a friend asked me this question before, I answered 9:1. Nine for thinking and one for coding. Apparently, my friend had the same answer.
In other words, thinking is overwhelmingly crucial.
You design the program in your head, and only after that, you start typing on the keyboard.
But let’s return to Monday.
After the meeting with my boss where the tasks were decided, I continued programming in my head during work and even on my way home. This wasn’t particularly exceptional. Every programmer does it.
This time, though, I went straight home. That, too, wasn’t a problem in the past. It wasn’t an issue to return home in work mode when there was no environment to work in the first place.
Unfortunately, at present, I had a work-ready environment at home.
After I got home, I took a shower, ate the bento I bought at the convenience store on the way, all the while thinking about the program in my head. By the time I relaxed a bit, the program was already complete in my mind, and all the necessary preparations were clear.
(Maybe I should prepare the environment a bit for tomorrow.)
I thought so, but in the end, I kept pounding on the keyboard until the eastern sky turned a beautiful shade of red-purple, transferring the program that had taken shape in my mind onto the computer.
Programmers might have a rather pitiful job, all things considered.
Seeing someone just sitting there, hands still, might make it seem like they’re slacking off. However, most of the time, they’re deep in thought. They’re pondering how to write a clean, efficient, and bug-free program—one that runs smoothly, is scalable, and has minimal wastage.
In other words, when programmers seem busy pounding on their keyboards, their minds aren’t really at work. The thinking part is already done. The act of typing is merely transferring the “information data” of the program that has taken shape in their minds to the computer.
The task is to transfer this “information data” quickly and accurately. Any excess thinking would only hinder this process. So, without any thoughts, they diligently transfer the “information data” from their minds to the computer through their fingertips.
A friend once said, “It would be great if we could just plug USB directly into our heads.”
The inconvenience of using one’s hands as input and output devices through a keyboard must have been what they meant. I completely agreed.
—
Unintentionally, I had embarked on the “death march,” but thanks to that, I had plenty of time. One and a half days. Including the weekend, it was three and a half days of free time. However, I had to stay at home today and tomorrow. These were the usual working hours, and I might receive sudden calls from the office.
It would be awkward to say, “I can’t go,” or “I can’t do it,” in response to urgent calls or requests after going on a trip. But truth be told, I didn’t have the energy to plan a trip because of the “death march.” Moreover, the prevailing aversion to traveling due to the ongoing pandemic also played a role.
(Maybe I’ll browse the internet or play games. If I feel like it, I might watch a movie.)
In other words, business as usual.
With this decision in mind, I moved the laptop and keyboard I had been working on to the vacant space on my L-shaped desk.
This laptop was provided by the company for remote work, so I couldn’t use it for personal matters. Moreover, my personal desktop computer had higher specs, so there was no need to use a low-spec work laptop for leisure activities.
However, I couldn’t turn off the power. I was still “working,” after all. I moved it aside so I could immediately notice if an email arrived. The display faced me. A simple shift of my gaze would confirm any notifications.
As I was about to start up my computer, my hand suddenly stopped.
(… Is there a strange smell?)
After a few moments of contemplation, I decided to take a shower first. I realized I hadn’t showered for the past few days.
…The last time I showered might have been when I got home on Monday.
After the shower, I felt refreshed but suddenly felt hungry. I opened the closet, which had turned into a storage room for snacks (mostly sweets), and randomly picked out some snack food. I started up my computer and immediately opened my favorite internet site from the launcher.
It was one of the world’s largest video sites, commonly known as a streaming platform. Among the videos on this site, there were new uploads from “GagaNin” and “Mark – I’ll Shout at You.” It seemed “PinoSuke” had started a new game. I wondered about “SadaSada 5.” Did they give up? They seemed stuck in a swamp.
I checked the archives of my favorite game streamer and kept adding videos I wanted to watch to my playlist. When I selected one from the list to play, I devoured my snack food.
I never ate snacks with my bare hands. I didn’t want to dirty my hands. Not only did I dislike dirtying the keyboard and game controller, but I also recalled a friend eating potato chips with chopsticks.
According to him, it was “refined.”
It was an incident that made me ponder about dignity.
***********************************************************************
After watching videos for a while, I felt thirsty.
Opening the refrigerator, I found canned coffee, carbonated drinks, and canned chu-hai, always in stock.
Reaching out for my most frequently consumed carbonated drink, I hesitated. It was around 3 PM. Too late for lunch, yet too early for dinner.
Usually, I’d choose between canned coffee or a carbonated drink without much thought. I never really had to decide.
But today?
(… There shouldn’t be a problem, right?)
Thinking that, I picked up the canned chu-hai.
A choice I would never make during work hours.
However, today my work was already done. Moreover, the sense of indulgence in doing something I shouldn’t be doing during work hours urged me on.
(Occasionally, it’s okay, right?)
I’m not a big drinker, so I don’t usually consume alcohol during the day on weekends. I keep it stocked for the days I feel like it, but I don’t drink every day.
But today, for some reason, my excitement grew. I thought, “Why not?” and decided to enjoy it.
And so, I spent the rest of the day watching a few more videos and finishing a couple of canned chu-hai. When I got genuinely hungry, I ordered a pizza, ate it while watching more videos, and lazily spent the day.
It was an unconventional way to waste time for a 47-year-old man.
************************************************************
That night, I had a dream.
I dreamed of flying in the sky.
I don’t usually dream much. Well, I probably do but just don’t remember.
It started with a floating sensation. I saw my familiar room from above. It was then that I realized.
(Ah, this is a dream.)
It was a dream I used to have frequently as a child.
Going out of the window, I ascended even higher. Gradually, I could see farther away.
(That’s the convenience store I always go to. Over there is the bridge, and the station is…)
I freely flew around, exploring various places I usually frequented and landmarks I recognized.
After a while, I started descending slowly. Lower and lower until I was at my usual eye level. Then, my altitude dropped even further, and eventually, my perspective became upside down.
Naturally, I was in a prone position.
Even in this position, my body was floating.
(…Is this the same as always?)
In dreams from my childhood, it always ended up as a low-altitude flight just above the ground. The ground was right in front of me, and when I tried to fly again, I never rose.
(It’s hopeless after all.)
Thinking that, my consciousness slowly descended into darkness.