Stop the Impossible Requests [Amano Writing Club]

“So, the project theme is ‘Gentle Ways of Working.’”

Senior colleague Takanashi said this while stirring his cheap coffee from the family restaurant’s drink bar. The restaurant, past its lunch peak, felt as if time were slowly melting away, and soft jazz played from the ceiling speakers.

We had walked to the station because the office cafeteria was too hectic to settle down in.

“And the boss’s instruction—or maybe I should call it an order—is to come up with ten serial project proposals by next week.”

“...Isn’t that an impossible request?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. My fork hit the salad plate with a clink.

In short, we were given only the theme and told to create ten article proposals from scratch. Each with a different angle, tailored to specific reader demographics, including structural outlines and potential interview subjects—all while writing our regular articles. There was no way to manage that.

Or perhaps I just couldn't do it because I was a newcomer, and a veteran like him could?

I looked at my senior colleague’s face tentatively. He was swirling his glass with a nonchalant expression.

“Yeah, I know. I mean, the theme ‘Gentle Ways of Working’ itself is fine, though.”

He scribbled notes roughly on a paper napkin. “Childcare x Career,” “Regional x Side Job,” “Disability and Work”... A coffee ring stain spread across the keywords he had lined up, getting in the way.

“But ten of them? By next week? It reminded me of The Little Prince.”

“Why is that?”

The ice in his glass chimed.

“You know, that part where it says something like, ‘A general who orders a soldier to fly or transform is not wise.’ It’s saying that ordering someone to do the impossible isn’t an order, it’s just a delusion.”

“My memory is a bit fuzzy, but... was that the story?”

“The boss probably wants to say, ‘Make an effort to fly’ or ‘Make an effort to change.’ But the most we can do is jump or make a funny face.”

I had no choice but to laugh.

“It’s like that, isn’t it? The company’s corporate philosophy: ‘Creating Thrills and Impressions.’”

“Well, talk is cheap. It’s not exactly a motto I want to keep close to me, though.”

"To make that a personal motto is... quite unreasonable, isn't it?"

I frowned and thought, hmm.

"Exactly. Unreasonable means you can see the result before you even start. And that's something you can't make up for with sheer willpower."

My senior bent the straw with his finger. I couldn't tell if it was a habit or a sign of irritation.

"But well, this industry is mostly like that anyway. We underlings have no choice but to do what we're told. I'll prepare five project proposals."

"That's a wonderful corporate slave spirit. ...Five? But, wait? Didn't you say ten?"

My senior, facing forward, wiped the water droplets off the glass with his finger and said with clear eyes,

"Yeah. So I'll do half of them."

"Um, senior, what about the remaining five?"

At this point, my senior quickly grabbed the receipt and stood up from his seat.

"I'll pay for this. Don't worry about it. I split the project work too, after all. This is my own version of a 'gentle way of working'..."

"See ya! I'm heading back to the meeting."

"Hey! Wait—"

Before I could finish, my senior finished paying like a ninja and walked out with a swirl in his step. 'Don't worry about it,' my foot.

"...That's not gentle at all."

I glared resentfully at his back beyond the automatic doors. Only a note on a napkin remained on the table.

Below the words "gentle way of working," I moved my pen to write something small.
I wrote it there.

—Please stop making unreasonable demands.

*I participated in the following project.