Emology 9: Between Ideals and Reality
Anna had wished to stand beside her role, not beneath it.
Nearly two months had passed since then.
Her days were still busy, still driven by deadlines and expectations.
It felt as if the New Year had just begun,
yet January was already nearing its end.
Fragments of her recent visit home drifted back to her.
“Work is important, I know… but what about marriage?”
Her mother’s voice had been gentle, worried.
Her father, hidden behind a newspaper, pretended not to listen—
yet she could feel his attention.
“Well… I’m really enjoying my work right now.”
She had answered lightly.
The sound of the newspaper folding carried his quiet sigh.
She pretended not to hear it and left the house.
Ten years had passed since she left her hometown.
The sunset before her looked exactly the same.
“You know, Anna, you’re so radiant. I’m kind of jealous.”
Her childhood friend smiled, holding a baby in her arms.
Before she realized it,
conversations back home had become centered only on families and children.
Only ten years—
and yet, the world felt far away.
“Murata-san, are you okay?”
Nako’s voice pulled Anna back to the present.
“Oh—sorry. I spaced out. Did you go back home for the holidays, Tachibana-san?”
“I’m from Chiba, so I just stopped by briefly. I stayed in Tokyo otherwise.”
“Really? That’s unexpected. You seem like the type who helps out at home a lot.”
“I get that a lot,” Nanako laughed.
Since returning from her leave in December,
Nako felt noticeably different.
“I put together a draft for next week’s meeting. I’ll share it with you.”
Anna scanned the screen.
The structure was clear, the proposal sharp—
the quality was impressive.
“Wow… this is really good. Did you make this all by yourself?”
“I worked on it while getting advice from Inaba-san—and bouncing ideas off generative AI.”
“Generative AI…?”
“Yes. Once I put my thoughts outside my head, everything becomes clearer.”
—I just throw everything into ChatGPT and let it evaluate it.
Saori’s words resurfaced in Anna’s mind.
“A senior I respect said something similar once…”
Nako continued,
“Do you think we could ask Inaba-san to run a short session on using AI?
It could really improve the team’s productivity.”
It was a great idea—
yet a small unease surfaced.
Would Inaba-san really agree?
Inaba-san was in his mid-forties. Highly capable, but unconventional.
A person many managers had struggled to handle.
Their one-on-one meetings barely lasted ten minutes—
mostly schedule checks, nothing more.
“I wonder if he’d be willing… It might be difficult.”
“I think he’ll be fine. Want me to ask him casually?”
Nako said it without hesitation.
“Okay. Could you?”
“Sure. I’ll message him now.”
She had always seemed polite and approachable.
But had she always been this open—this effortless?
Nako felt like a different person.
And for a moment, Anna felt uneasy.
“Oh—he replied.”
Nako smiled.
“He says he’d love to do it.”
On the screen:
I’d be happy to!
Alongside an overly energetic GIF.
“Inaba-san sends messages like this?”
“He’s actually really fun. I like him a lot.”
Nako’s smile was unguarded.
Anna couldn’t remember them ever talking like this before her leave.
—After she came back?
Something sharp stirred in her chest.
Not pride.
Not relief.
Jealousy.
Anna took a quiet breath.
“Tachibana-san… you’ve really changed since coming back.”
She hesitated.
“Did something happen?”
Nako blinked, surprised.
“Changed… really?”
“No— I mean, in a good way. I was just curious.”
Nako lowered her gaze briefly, then looked straight at Anna.
She used to avoid eye contact.
Searching for the right answer.
Checking if she was about to be scolded.
But now—
Her gaze didn’t waver.
“I was always worried about how others saw me,” she said softly.
“I thought if I wasn’t needed, I’d lose my value.”
Anna felt something tighten in her chest.
“If I’m not needed, I have no value…”
Her own words echoed back at her.
—Perfect.
The image of herself smiling in the mirror suddenly surfaced.
“But I stopped,” Nako said.
Her expression was lighter than before.
“Why?”
“Because I realized… I’m okay the way I am.”
The words settled quietly inside Anna.
—Let it remain Kinari.
The phrase repeated in her mind.
When had she heard it before?
—Right. The pottery workshop.
♦︎♢♦︎♢
“Please wait. The instructor will come around shortly.”
The room relaxed.
The hum of spinning wheels and the scent of damp clay filled the air.
“Anna, you’re surprisingly clumsy.”
Ryo teased from beside her.
Anna glanced sideways.
On his wheel, the clay spun smoothly—
his hands steady, confident.
The shape was already forming.
“Wow… that’s amazing. Like a model piece.”
Ryo smiled, embarrassed.
“Hey—you’ve got clay on your nose.”
“Where?”
“There.”
Their fingers brushed, and they laughed softly.
Then the instructor approached.
“Wow—very skillful,” he said cheerfully.
“Your boyfriend, I mean.”
“I didn’t know she was this clumsy until today,”
Ryo joked.
Anna looked down.
Her wheel had stopped.
The clay remained uneven, uncertain.
“…It turned out kind of strange.
If it can be fixed…”
She stopped her hands.
The instructor crouched beside the wheel, silently observing.
After the rotation fully ceased, he spoke.
“This one…”
A brief pause.
“Let’s leave it Kinari.”
“Kinari…?”
Anna and Ryo looked up together.
“It means ‘as it is,’” the instructor explained gently.
“Don’t correct it. This shape only exists right now.”
Anna couldn’t respond.
She turned her eyes away from the piece.
“I think it’s better that way too,” Ryo added.
“Clumsy Anna is still Anna.”
Not praise.
Not comfort.
Just a fact.
Still, Anna couldn’t nod.
She couldn’t look at it—yet.
🌙 After Returning Home | Closet
At the back of the shelf.
Inside a box.
Years later, she took the piece out.
It felt heavier than she remembered.
Cool in her hands.
She lifted it, turned it under the light,
studied it closely.
It wasn’t even.
Not symmetrical.
But—
“…It’s not bad.”
She realized she truly meant it.
The tilted rim.
The uneven thickness.
A fragile outline.
Her past self was there.
The self who failed.
The self who compared herself and went silent.
The self who still kept working with her hands.
“…Kinari.”
She murmured the word.
Anna placed the piece on the table
and looked at it for a long while.
She had decided to stand beside her role.
But maybe—
her life never needed to be perfectly shaped in the first place.
Imperfect was fine.
Unfinished was fine.
—Kinari, as it is.
The feeling lingered quietly in her chest.
What Is “Kinari”?
Kinari is a Japanese word that originally described unbleached fabric—
material left in its natural color.
Over time, it came to represent something more.
Kinari means allowing something to remain as it is,
without forcing it into an ideal shape.
It is not about improvement.
It is not about correction.
It is about not erasing what already exists.
🔗 Story Navigation
🪞 Previous Story
https://note.com/kinari_tokieda/n/nd8d481253b8b
📖 Next Story
https://note.com/kinari_tokieda/n/n8b7f5548503e
🧠 Related Psychological Logic (Emologic)
https://note.com/kinari_tokieda/n/n4e0cbbbd34ab
🌍 Japanese Version
https://note.com/kinari_tokieda/n/nb35af6f4fb43
Start reading Anna’s story from Episode 1
https://note.com/kinari_tokieda/n/n367f4fd957ef
Start reading Nako’s story from Episode 1
https://note.com/kinari_tokieda/n/n4bea2365c833