CotE: The Wandering Misfit

Chapter 2 - Society Is Not All Logical

As I exercised under the rosy hue cast by the rising Sun, listening to the dawn chorus of melodic birdsong, I noticed auburn and crimson leaves peeking out amidst the greenery.

Fall had arrived. When this fact was combined with my present situation, it gave a new meaning to the English idiom "turn over a new leaf."

I had studied the autumn leaf color phenomenon as part of the White Room's biology curriculum. As night length increases, the production of green chlorophyll pigment within the chloroplasts of leaf cells slows down, eventually stopping entirely. The chlorophyll is then destroyed, unmasking the carotenoids and anthocyanin pigments, leaving them free to show their various colors of red, brown, russet, amber, crimson, and so on, depending on the tree species.

It was a phenomenon I was looking forward to seeing over the next two months. There was something about viewing the color change in the flesh that was lost in the drab photographs of biology textbooks. Maybe it was feeling the crisp October breeze on my skin, or tracing my finger along the coarse-textured, patterned leaves, or simply perceiving the environment with my own two eyes, but today, I could confidently say "this is autumn" instead of "I should remember the autumn leaf color phenomenon for the upcoming test." The White Room's theoretical curriculum could only take me so far. My escapade of thirty-six hours and counting had taught me more than any book. Most importantly, it educated me on the experiences of a human. That's why I will keep fighting for freedom — to breathe this fresh air in, to understand all that was kept from me, to discover more about myself.

To continue ensuring my freedom, I had to achieve two objectives: get a permanent job and find a place to sleep. While the limousine satisfied the latter requirement, it sat far away from the city, on the path to the White Room. Since moving the car into the city was out of the question, I would become a sitting duck for that man and the anti-Naoe faction if I continued to depend on it.

Unless I encountered a stroke of luck, a shelter would require money, which could only be earned from a job.

As I began warming down, I briefly considered starting my own business, but the time I would need to invest in setting up, advertising, and day-to-day operations did not make it worth the money. While being wealthy would be nice, I only needed enough money to fully enjoy my freedom. There was no need to get ahead of myself with ambitious endeavors in a world I barely knew.

That meant getting employed somewhere. After grouping my measly possessions into a plastic bag I received at the convenience store last night, I began jogging down the road to Tokyo. It was 7:00, which meant few cars interrupted the serene sight of the morning sun on the changing landscape.

Surely someone with my capabilities would have no trouble finding employment?

~~~

"Get out! This ain't a joke, kid. Go back to begging or whatever the hell brats like you do."

As I exited the thirty-ninth store today, I was again reminded of the unfairness and inequality in society.

First, there was the matter of age. According to Japanese labor laws, the minimum age for working part-time is fifteen. Fortunately, my demeanor and voice suggested somebody far beyond that age, but my height was suspect. It led to potential employers instantly asking for an identification card or school, neither of which I could answer satisfactorily.

However, what was truly unfair and illogical were those who turned me away upon a single glance at my appearance, such as the last company. People automatically assumed my capabilities based on my simple white gown. If I was being honest, I could probably do my potential employers' jobs better than them, but I did not get one chance to prove myself, even when I used my nonexistent ailing mother to try and evoke sympathy. The few who gave me an opportunity asked me questions that I answered impeccably, only to be rejected for not being in high school or university. Merit was discarded with arbitrary means such as age and appearance. Unlike the White Room, society was not a pure meritocracy.