[Serialized Novel] Rebooting "Me"! ~Mom's Re-learning Community~ 24: Getting the Administration on Our Side.

Suginomori City Hall.
I was standing once again in the place where I had been coldly rejected and kicked out of the community center, labeled as a "suspicious, profit-driven organization."

I clearly remember the day I walked through those automatic doors a few months ago, holding back tears of frustration.
Back then, I was just a powerless "so-and-so's mom" who had brought nothing but the passion of "what I wanted to do" and had been bounced back by the giant wall of bureaucracy.

But today, I am different.
In my hand, I hold the thick "Project U Business Plan" that Anna and Yumi stayed up all night to create. Behind me, I have my invincible friends who have reclaimed their own names.

"...Excuse me, is Mr. Bando from the Citizen Collaboration Division in?"

When I called out at the counter, a familiar-looking male official in his fifties stood up from a desk in the back with a look of bewilderment.

"Yes, that's me... Oh, you are..."

As soon as Mr. Bando saw me, he openly looked annoyed and furrowed his brow.

"It's Kiritani. I was helped by you previously regarding the community center usage application."

"Ah, that 'Project U' thing... Ms. Kiritani, I've told you many times, the city cannot rent out facilities to profit-driven organizations. Rules are rules."

Mr. Bando assumed I was here to complain about renting a room again, and he threw a preemptive punch in a cold, bureaucratic voice.

I smiled brightly.

"Mr. Bando, I am not here to rent a room today. We are holding a large-scale free public lecture at a private hall next month, and I have come to ask Suginomori City for its 'sponsorship'."

"...Huh? Sponsorship?"

Mr. Bando's voice cracked in surprise.

Sponsorship. It means the city hall officially endorses the event, stating, "This event has public significance, and the city supports it." Just by having the words "Sponsorship: Suginomori City" on a flyer, the social credibility of an organization jumps dramatically.

"Please stop joking. There is no way the city would provide official sponsorship to a mere group of housewives, especially an organization that almost caused trouble before. There is no precedent for this."

"If there is no precedent, we can create one from now on. Please, just give me five minutes to look at this."

I placed the thick file I was holding onto the counter with a thud.

"This is not just a group of housewives. This is a concrete business proposal to solve the issues of 'labor shortages' and 'child-rearing support' that Suginomori City is currently facing."

Mr. Bando sighed, "Sigh..." but opened the file reluctantly.
The moment he saw the first page, his eyes widened.

"W-what is this number..."

"This is the result of the crowdfunding we started last week to raise funds for our activities. In just one week since launch, we have exceeded our target of two million yen. Eighty percent of the supporters are mothers raising children living around Suginomori City."

I continued my explanation in a clear, steady voice.

"That is not all. Please turn the page. This is the data on the qualifications and careers of the members currently gathered in 'Project U'."

Bando-san's gaze darted busily over the data.

"Nurses, former PR for IT ventures, accounting professionals, former teachers... Bando-san, Suginomori City is currently suffering from a serious labor shortage, isn't it? But look at our data. Within the city, there are mountains of women who possess such excellent skills and experience, yet are 'dormant' because they are blocked by the wall of childcare."

"Dormant... regional human resources."

I heard the sound of Bando-san swallowing hard.

"Starting with this public lecture, we will launch a 'Skill Share Platform' that provides the skills mothers have to the local community and companies. This is not just a tea party. It is a proper 'regional revitalization project' that will stimulate the city's economy and save isolated mothers."

I never once took my eyes off Bando-san.

The last time I came here, I had clashed with him using only emotional arguments like 'because we want to learn.' That was why I was turned away with 'If you want to play, go somewhere else.'
To move the administration, you need their language: 'numbers' and 'logic.'
We must prove how beneficial we are to the region with objective data.

" ...Certainly, this data and business plan are solid enough to rival any professional's."

Bando-san muttered as he read through the materials intently.

"However, there is a risk for the administration to act. If the project stalls halfway through or if complaints come in, who will take responsibility? After all, it is too high a hurdle to give the city's stamp of approval to a voluntary organization with no track record..."

In the edges of Bando-san's words, the self-preservation typical of bureaucrats—'I don't want to get involved in troublesome things'—was visible.

I took a slow breath.

The perfect data (logic) that Anna-san created alone cannot break this final, thick wall. Once you make them understand with their heads, you need to move their 'hearts' next.

"Bando-san."

I placed both hands on the service counter and leaned forward.

"As for responsibility, I will take it all. ...Bando-san, do you know the loneliness of spending the whole day alone with a baby who doesn't understand your words, and reaching the night without having spoken to anyone?"

At my sudden question, Mr. Bando looked up, appearing bewildered.

"We are not just numbers. We are flesh-and-blood human beings, desperately raising lives every day for zero yen an hour. There are many mothers in this Suginomori City who are treated as invisible by society, have lost sight of their own value, and are crying in the darkness."

The image of Kayo-san, who had been in tatters and crying in the library, floated through my mind.

"This project is their 'lifeline.' What we are asking for is not subsidies or money from the city. It is just one word of affirmation from the city: 'You have value in society.' Please, imagine how much courage that would give to so many mothers."

My voice was filled with an irrepressible fervor.
On top of the logically sound project proposal, I was layering my own—and my companions'—heart-wrenching, real 'passion'.

In a corner of my mind, the powerful voice of Umeko Tsuda echoed.

When Umeko sought financial support from the government and influential figures to build the 'Women's Institute of English Studies,' she never relied on a presentation that just tugged at heartstrings by saying 'women are pitiful.'
She perfectly fused the 'logic' (reason) that women's education was essential for Japan's modernization with the 'passion' of wanting to save the girls in front of her at all costs. That is precisely why she succeeded in moving the hearts of the stubborn men of that time and securing a large amount of funding.

“The dual wheels of reason and passion open stubborn doors.”

I strongly ruminated on that golden rule of Umeko's in my heart.

"Mr. Bando. Everyone is afraid of starting something new. But please... don't be bound by old precedents, and help us create a new wind in Suginomori City."

Finally, I bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle.

The counter fell into a deep silence.
All I could hear was the sound of a phone ringing deep inside the city hall and the faint sound of Mr. Bando turning pages of documents.

I wonder how long I stayed like that.

"...Kiritani-san."

Mr. Bando's low, calm voice descended upon me.

When I slowly raised my head, Mr. Bando no longer had the 'eyes that treat someone like a nuisance' from before, but was looking at me with serious eyes, as if facing a fellow 'project manager.'

"I will accept this business plan."

"...!"

"I cannot decide this on my own, but I will strongly advocate for it to the mayor and the relevant departments. After being shown such precise data and your terrifying level of enthusiasm, it would be administrative negligence to simply turn you away by saying 'there is no precedent.'"

Mr. Bando said that and gave a small, sudden smile.

"Are you the same housewife who was on the verge of tears here a few months ago? ...You have become quite resilient, haven't you?"

At those words, something hot welled up in my eyes.
It wasn't tears of sadness. It wasn't tears of frustration either.
It was tears of joy, knowing that what we had built while struggling and stumbling with our friends had finally punched a hole in the massive wall of society.

"Yes. ...I was trained by the best friends I could ask for."

I returned the biggest smile I could, through a vision blurred by tears.

"Then, we will be in touch. ...I look forward to the public lecture, Representative Kiritani."

Representative. That sound made me straighten my back.

"Thank you very much! I look forward to working with you!"

I bowed deeply once more and left the Citizen Collaboration Division counter.
As I passed through the automatic doors and stepped outside, a clear blue sky spread out before me.

"I... won."

I made a small fist pump in front of my chest, so no one would see.

I had overcome the large, unreasonable wall that is the administration.
The dual wheels of reason and passion were certainly turning.

But I still had the 'highest and most troublesome wall' left to overcome.

I took out my smartphone.
The background was a photo of Hina smiling.
And next to her, my husband, Shingo, was also smiling.

It had been nearly a month since Shingo started sleeping in a different room as if to leave the house.
I had kept my relationship with him on hold, escaping into my activities outside.
But now that I had opened the door to society at the city office, I could no longer turn my eyes away from the door to my own 'home,' the society closest to me.

"Wait for me, Shingo. I'm the one who's going to wake you up next."

I put my smartphone in my bag and started walking with purpose.
The final battle for me to truly live as 'Rin Kiritani' was approaching.

(To be continued in Episode 25: Husband Shingo's Crisis.)