Episode 4: Competition for the Sake of the Children

The following evening.

The small office in front of the station still held the color of the setting sun.

Orange light streaming through the gaps in the blinds illuminated the documents on the desk at an angle.
Only the edges of the copy paper looked unusually bright.

The low hum of the air conditioner.
The standby light of the computer.
The silence peculiar to an empty floor.

In the midst of it, Asahi was alone.
She was rereading the opinions of the childcare workers and the parents.

"I want to increase the time I spend facing my child."

Words that came from the parents last night.
Next to them was a circle drawn in red pen.

"Reviewing events"
"ICT implementation"
"Division of roles with parents"

Small notes were also left on the edge of the page.
"What to reduce"

Asahi stared blankly at those words.

"Still working?"
The entrance door opened.

It was Yoru.

He had a black jacket draped over his shoulders and was holding two convenience store coffees.
His tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was a bit disheveled.

It was clear it had been a long day.

"Here you go."
He placed one on the desk.
"Thanks."
Asahi smiled slightly and accepted it.

The steam rising from the paper cup swayed quietly.
Watching that steam, she felt the tension in her nerves loosen just a little.

Yoru pulled up a chair and sat down.
He glanced at the documents.

Asahi closed the documents.

Outside, an ambulance siren wailed in the distance.

The sound dissolved into the air of the evening city.

A brief silence.

Yoru opens her mouth while slightly shifting the lid of her coffee.

"It's difficult, isn't it?"

Asahi nodded slightly.
She understood the meaning of that "difficult" perfectly.

A nursery school cannot survive on charity alone.

Personnel costs.
Facility maintenance costs.
Safety measures.
Equipment upgrades.

And the declining birthrate.

If the number of children decreases, it directly affects the management.

Yoru continued, staring at the rippling surface of her coffee.
"In reality, we're in an era where you won't be chosen unless you show your 'distinctive features'."
She counts them off on her fingers.

English programs
Gymnastics classes
Eurhythmics
Food education
She gives a small, bitter smile.

"It's becoming more of an 'educational service competition' than a nursery school."

Asahi lowered her gaze.
Her own face reflected in the window glass looked a little tired.

"I know."

But.

"Is that really"
She pauses for a moment.

"in the 'best interests of the child'?"
The room falls silent.

Yoru looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

"That's right."

"For the sake of the children."
Everyone uses that phrase.

But in reality,
"differentiation from other schools"
"parental satisfaction"
"profit"
"branding"
all sorts of things get mixed into it.

Yoru was remembering the look on Miki-sensei's face last night.

"I'm spending less time watching the children."

Those words.

Anger that felt like it would tear her apart.

"Even though there aren't enough childcare workers,"
Yoru said quietly.

"the things we have to do just keep increasing."

"And right now, we're in a state of fighting over a 'shrinking number of children'."

Declining birthrate.
Closing nurseries.
Consolidation.

That is why companies try to create a 'nursery that gets chosen'.

"Adding more events,"
Yoru continued.

"adding more curriculum,"
"saying 'we're better than the others',"
"while behind the scenes, the staff is being worn down."

Both of them understood.

The reason teachers are quitting isn't just the salary.

There is no 'margin'.

A margin to watch the children.
A margin to think.
A margin to rest.
A margin to process emotions.

Yoru leaned back in her chair.

"Things like AI and ICT, too,"
She took a sip of coffee.

"originally, they were meant to 'increase the time spent facing the children',"
"but instead, they're increasing the burden, right?"
Asahi replied immediately.

"Exactly,"
Yoru nodded.

"Half-baked implementation."

Tablet input.
System implementation.
But almost no training for the staff.

"In the end, it's just more digital stuff."
"They only teach us vaguely how to use it efficiently."

A silence hangs in the air for a while.

The setting sun that had been streaming through the gaps in the blinds was gradually fading.
The color temperature in the room was slowly shifting toward night.

Yoru says quietly.

"In the end, you know."
Looking out the window.

"They're trying to do everything without deciding 'what to protect.' Of course, they call it 'for the sake of the children,' though."

Asahi slowly took in those words.

Do everything.
Events too.
Parent satisfaction too.
Audits too.
Safety management too.
Differentiation too.

Even though there are so many things that must be done,
the number of people doesn't increase.
Time doesn't increase either.

"That's why the front lines break down."
Asahi says.

Yoru nods quietly.
"Actually,"

Asahi says while staring at the documents on the desk.

"I don't think 'quality of childcare' is about the number of events or the curriculum."
"Yeah."
"It's about the children feeling that they are 'properly seen.'"
Yoru smiles a little.

"That's the simplest thing, but because people who don't know the front lines keep looking at the wrong things, it's probably become the most difficult."

It was already dark outside.

The office is faintly reflected in the window glass.
Asahi lets out a small sigh within that reflection.

"Can we change it?"
Yoru thinks for a moment.

She didn't answer immediately.
Then, she said quietly.

"If the number of people who properly look at the front lines and try to improve things increases...?"

I pause for a moment.

"In that case, I'm betting on the possibility that we can decide 'what to cut.'"

Asahi nodded quietly at those words.

Protecting childcare is not about
"adding more."

Sometimes, it might mean
having the "courage to cut."