Chapter 20: “The Shifting Evening Sun”

Kazuo Uesugi, president of Uesugi Industries, was about to pull down the factory shutter when he stopped and looked over the workshop once more.

The setting sun was shining in, bathing the entire small factory in its light.

“See you around, boss! I’ll be back!”

“Yeah!”

Takeshi, the supplier who delivered their materials, climbed into his truck with a loud call.

“Come a little earlier next time. Everyone’s gone home by five.”

“Your company’s got it good, boss. You always get to finish early.”

Takeshi leaned out the window, grinning.

Uesugi made a bitter face.

“That’s not good enough, though. Not really.”

“It’s the times, boss. The times. You’ve got to change.”

“Easy for you to say. I’ve been over seventy for quite a while now.”

“No way. Seriously? You don’t look it, boss. You look young!”

“Well then, Takeshi… how old do I look?”

“Huh… well, from every possible angle, I’d say… sixty-nine.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just kidding. Kidding!”

“Well, if things are going to change for the better, I’m all for it.”

“Every company president I know says the same thing.”

“...I guess they do.”

Uesugi figured this must have been Takeshi’s last delivery of the day as well. With a quick goodbye, the truck kicked up a cloud of dust and disappeared around the corner.

Uesugi lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

The old machines, glowing red in the evening sun, faded into the haze beyond the smoke.

(I thought I’d spent my whole life investing in machinery without ever taking a break… but standing here and looking at it now… it really is just a little neighborhood factory.)

The machines stood packed tightly together in the cramped workshop.

*(The customers have changed too. Back in the old days, we used to argue all the time. Even with Kurogane Manufacturing… I can’t remember how many times we had it out with them.

Of course, arguing doesn’t mean you’re working hard.

But still… we sure fought a lot.

Though… it’s not exactly something to look back on nostalgically, either.)*

With his cigarette still in his mouth, he reached for the shutter.

A dull pain ran through his lower back.

“Ow, ow, ow…”

(Can’t push myself too hard.)

He looked around for the rod used to pull the shutter down.

*(They say that when you get old, you should follow your children.

But what is a company with no successor supposed to follow?)*

The western sun had already sunk lower than it had only moments before.

(They say the autumn sky… whatever it is they say.)

As Uesugi slowly pulled down the shutter, he exhaled a stream of smoke toward the sky.