Short Short: "Yoshida is Dead"

"Isn't Yoshida there? Bring Yoshida out, hey!"
"Yoshida is dead."
"............!!!!"

I encountered the moment a person truly lost their words for the first time.

＋

There are people everywhere who want to have their say.

They don't want to resolve their dissatisfaction. They aren't angry. They don't want to gain anything.

They just want to keep talking forever. That kind of person.

When you work at a call center for a long time, you see the unpleasant side of people whether you want to or not. No matter how wonderful the product, company, or service is, you will always encounter a certain number of people who just want to keep complaining.

Because nothing is perfect.
Dust exists everywhere, and if you beat the rug, it will come out.

Anything has its flaws if you look at it from a different angle, and weak points can always be manufactured.

Violent words hurled at an opponent who cannot fight back.
The telephone is a device that amplifies such negative emotions.

＋

An insurance company's customer center.
It is a client that ranks as a mid-sized player in the industry, a company that actively invests in support for its users. I am grateful for that. The center's environment is well-maintained. In the high-turnover call center industry, it is well-regarded by the members. That is why everyone becomes close while working there.

The client representative with decision-making authority (Mr. Yamazaki).
Me, the manager, and several supervisors.
The operators who handle calls on shift rotations.

It is a typical mid-sized call center.
But it is a department with surprisingly few complaints for a customer center. Perhaps because they invest properly, high quality is guaranteed, including for the customers.

Even so, there are still people who want to keep complaining. Kimura-san (pseudonym) was one of them.

"You really said something incredible."
"Well, it didn't look like it was going to end otherwise. Everyone looked exhausted."
"Thank you. But this is the first time I've heard you clam up, Kimura-san."

While imagining a jaw dropping in disbelief, I have the unnecessary thought: Wait, is it 'clam up' or the exact opposite? A long silence that could not be put into words. (When I checked the log later, it wasn't actually that long. Subjective experience cannot be trusted.)

Kimura-san was a so-called 'complainer' who would call about once every two weeks. Starting with opinions about the product, the conversation would fly off in all directions every time I offered a nod of agreement. The future of Japan. Politics. The local supermarket. Being scammed on a trip long ago. Where he was born. Health topics. I don't know if it's true or a lie, but I have a general idea of the outline of Kimura-san's life.

The customer center cannot hang up the phone.

Of course, for verbal abuse or cases that are too difficult to handle, we may excuse ourselves. However, basically, we listen. Active listening. Lending an ear. Among those calls, there are valuable opinions, and then there are those where I suddenly wonder why I am listening to this. Mr. Kimura generally falls into the latter category.

"Isn't Yoshida there! Get Yoshida out here!"

"Unfortunately, Yoshida is away from his desk."
"Yoshida is taking the day off today."
"Yoshida is unavailable."
"Yoshida is not here."
"Yoshida is..."

"I will be happy to assist you."
"I don't need you!! Get Yoshida out here!!!"

Mr. Kimura, having escalated, had been calling every day. If the call was long, it would last for several hours, demanding Yoshida.
Even when I tried to guide him to make him understand, he wouldn't listen,
"Forget it! I'll call again!!"
Click.

Days of such repetition continued.

"Honestly, it's tough..."
"Yeah, I know. What should we do?"

I can think of various countermeasures, but before taking drastic measures, I would like him to understand if possible.
But the team is reaching its limit.
This might be tough.

Just then, Mr. Yamazaki, having lost his patience, got on the line.

"D-did he die...?"
"Yes. So, I will be the one to assist you."
"I see..."

Click.

Yes, the story goes back three months.

+

Yoshida, also known as Yoshida-kun, was a very excellent operator.

He was young, and after working for a year as a new graduate, he quit and joined as a contract employee. From my perspective, having barely managed to slip into this company after graduating from a decent private university, his educational background and the major company he quit were a total shocker. It was a place I couldn't get into even if I stood on my head. Also, I can't stand on my head.

While looking at his neatly organized A4 life summary sheet, I processed his hiring, picking up scales from my eyes that had fallen too far, thinking that there are people like this in the world.

Yoshida-kun continued to learn the ropes efficiently even after joining the company.

"I'm fine up to this point. But I don't quite understand this part. Could you teach me again?"

That was a part I myself had shelved, thinking the manual was hard to understand and that I'd fix it someday, so I inadvertently said, "I know, right!"
Perhaps taken aback by my sudden informal tone after I had been acting like a proper boss until then,

"Oh, sorry about that."

I had carelessly made him apologize. I'm sorry, too.

Yoshida-kun was excellent, but he seemed to draw a line somewhere, or rather, he maintained a slightly distant sense of space. There are people like that.
Since people at various stages of life work here, digging too deep is taboo. I keep a proper distance.

About half a year after he started taking calls and was fully able to work on his own, Yoshida-kun took a call from Kimura-san.

A person to be careful of.

When working in phone support, dealing with complaints is something you just can't avoid.

+

Communication today is centered on the receiver. Emails, LINE, and the various competing social media platforms all allow the receiver to choose when, how much, and what they receive.

But the phone is different. The caller has the advantage.

You don't know the purpose of the call until you listen, and it is a medium that unilaterally steals your time.

Therefore, for people who want to say something using the advantage of being a 'customer,' it might provide high satisfaction.
Not all calls are like that, but it is a fact that every call center has a certain percentage of such people.

A negative emotion amplification device.
People who just want to keep saying something.

In the midst of all this, there are times when, for some reason, things get resolved beyond the reach of speaking techniques, skills, or systems.

Perhaps that is because, in the end, it is people talking to people.
Is it what they call 'hitting it off'?

Yoshida-kun, who took Kimura-san's call for the first time, ended the call laughing out loud.

Everyone was astonished.
It was, indeed, a Bangkok surprise show.

"Ah, just so you know, this is a customer center, so laughing out loud is a bit, you know."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll be careful."

The logs were carefully accompanied by feedback on the products, a note about Kimura-san's little quirks, and a memo on the timing for wrapping up conversations.

+

But then, one day, suddenly.
Yoshida-kun didn't show up for work.

Neither his mobile phone nor his emergency contact could be reached.

"I wonder if he's okay. Maybe he got into an accident."

I reported it to my supervisor immediately. Excellent attendance. Excellent performance. Cause unknown. Unable to contact. My worry grew.

"Wait and see for one day, and if there's no contact, connect with HR and visit his home. Go as a pair."
"Understood."

He still couldn't be reached, so the next day.

"It's bizarre, strange, and mysterious. Cause unknown, unable to contact."
"You say that like it's a fast-food delivery slogan or a 'no graffiti' sign."

I went with a colleague from HR I hadn't seen in a while to visit the address on file. It was a neat and tidy apartment, just like Yoshida-kun. I rang the doorbell, but there was no response. Even when I called, there was no sound from inside.

"This is a problem."

I left a document in the mailbox stating that we had visited and that we wanted him to contact us.

However, this isn't unusual. Sometimes, people just disappear like this.

Maybe there was a reason, or maybe it was just on a whim. The truth is in the bushes. Or was it in the dark? Either way, it remains unknown. There's no point in thinking about it.

And just like that, Yoshida-kun was gone.

+

Some time after that.

"Nase-san, could you help me out for a second?"

It was Sunday when I got a LINE message from Yoshida-kun, who had (officially) died. I was lazily wasting away a day off with no plans, holed up in my house using the morning rain as an excuse. Yet, an inexplicable sense of urgency that something was seriously wrong welled up, and I was just cleaning my room out of restlessness when it happened.

"Wait, no way. Are you okay? Where are you?"

Apparently, he's in front of the Starbucks at the next station.
I replied in a hurry, saying, "I'm coming right away, so wait for me!" then scrambled to get ready and quickly composed myself. Suddenly, I'm busy. The rain had stopped.

＋

No, this isn't a Starbucks.

It stinks.

Yoshida-kun, whom I hadn't seen in a long time, waved his hand apologetically. He had a backpack on his shoulder, was wearing some oversized coat, and was disheveled all over. He looked like a disheveled mess wearing clothes. He reminded me of Barbapapa. Something like that. The contrast with the stylish open terrace was striking.

“My place is within walking distance. Do you want to use the shower?”
“I'd appreciate that.”

On the way back, we stopped by a convenience store to buy food, snacks, toothpaste, and other things. Yoshida-kun was literally penniless. He was living up to his reputation as a wanderer, as you can see. I paid for everything.

“I'm sorry for the trouble. I just disappeared from work suddenly, too. You must be angry.”
“Angry? I'd say I was more surprised and worried.”

It was more loneliness than anger, but since we were talking about work, I kept that to myself. The smell of wet asphalt hung in the air.

＋

“Want a drink?”
“Don't mind if I do.”

After taking a shower and freshening up, Yoshida-kun looked no different than he did three months ago.
For some reason, I felt like beer was just right.

“You've got a huge stock of these.”
“Mind your own business.”

Yoshida-kun, peering into the refrigerator, was as expressionless as ever—or so I thought, but then he smiled. We toasted and sat across from each other at the small table. I was glad I had cleaned up.

The beer, after such a long time, seemed to make him talkative.
Even though I thought he didn't show his emotions, he had a look on his face I'd never seen before. The alcohol was hitting him fast.

“I know it sounds arrogant coming from me, but I graduated from a good university, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“And I joined a pretty good company.”
“Pretty good, indeed.”

“I enjoyed the work and felt a sense of purpose, but one day, on my way back from a client's office, I suddenly wondered, 'Why am I doing this?'”

I get that. I think that to myself every single day.

“And then, that 'why?' started to grow, bit by bit, like a stain on the ceiling of my parents' house that wouldn't go away. You know, don't you feel like ceiling stains grow even though they don't actually change?”
“I think I get it. Or maybe I don't.”

“It's like when you're walking and don't pay attention, but once you start thinking about it—was it my right foot? Or my left? Do I lift it? Do I put it down?—you end up stopping in your tracks. It's like that feeling.”
“I can relate to that a little.”

"I liked the work at the center, but one day, I suddenly thought, 'Why am I listening to this story?'"
"I see."

"So, I went north."
"North?"
"Yes."
"Why north?"
"Yamazaki-san said that when people are lost, they go north."
"That guy, huh."

He would totally say that. He's the type to be irresponsible with complete confidence.

"So, how was it?"
"It was cold."
"I bet."

"When I ran out of money, I was sitting on a bench in a park, just spacing out, and suddenly I thought, 'I should go home.'"
"Nothing else?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, like an episode where your outlook on life changed completely, or some warm human kindness you encountered in the north, or a moment where some kind of resolve was born, things like that."
"None of that."
"None?"

"Oh, the Yudetaro in Aomori Prefecture was tastier than the one in Nerima."
"That's pathetic."
"I know."

"I think people usually do this kind of thing in college. A late-to-the-party soul-searching journey."
"That's fine, isn't it?"

Yoshida-kun, who went north and came back smelling a bit off.
Yoshida-kun, who came back without anything having changed.
But, that's probably how it goes most of the time.

"Did you know? Kimura-san used to be the president of a famous venture company."
"Wait, seriously?"
"I know I shouldn't have, but I Googled it and it was true."
"I had no idea."
"It was in Forbes and stuff."
"Wow."
"He said he did work that was socially significant, but he worked too hard and before he knew it, he was all alone. He said when he looks back, he can't remember anything like his children's entrance or graduation ceremonies, and when he realized it, his wife and children had left, the company had grown big but the partners he started it with were gone, and one day he couldn't find any meaning in his work, so he handed over all his shares and retired."
"...Is that so."

Kimura-san, the complainer, was just a line in a daily report, a task, a symbol to me.
But Yoshida-kun had truly faced Kimura-san. Even though we were supposed to be making the same calls, it was completely different.

"Get Yoshida out here!!"
I felt like I heard Kimura-san's voice.

"He said if someone had listened to him and put the brakes on him back then, his life might have turned out completely different. That kind of hits home, doesn't it?"

It really does. Staring at the beer can starting to sweat, I feel my face getting hot. Somehow, I have no words.
Yoshida-kun downed his beer and put on a determined face.

"So, um..."
"What? What is it?"

Yoshida-kun hesitates. If he's come this far, there shouldn't be anything he can't say. What could it be?

"When I was gone for three months, my house disappeared. I'm really sorry to ask, but... could you let me stay for a while?"

＋

Yoshida-kun, who needed to earn living expenses for the time being, ended up returning to work at the center.

"Are you really sure about this?"
"Well, my contract period is still valid, so it should be fine. Yamazaki-san forgave me, too."

Yoshida-kun's first words when he visited the center to apologize for the trouble he caused—"I messed up my soul-searching"—were incredibly effective. Perhaps Yamazaki-san felt responsible as a stakeholder. The condition was "you must contact us if anything happens." Also, Yamazaki-san laughed and told me to pretend he had been extremely angry.

“Once again, it is a pleasure to work with you.”

Yoshida-kun’s face, as he goes around greeting everyone, seems somehow more expressive.

“Nase-san, thank you for everything as well. Once again, it is a pleasure to work with you.”
“Yes. Likewise.”

I can even see subtle changes in expressions I once thought I couldn't read. Perhaps it was just a matter of my own perception as the receiver.

“Oh, Yoshida-kun.”
“Yes?”
“You know, you’re officially listed as dead.”
“Huh?”

+

A few years ago, there was a mobile phone commercial that said something like, “There are things you can only say over the phone.” It might be a bit different, but it’s something like that.

The telephone is a device that amplifies negative emotions.
But perhaps it can also convey and receive more than just voices and words.
After all, it is a device that connects people to people.

“Thank you for waiting. This is Yoshida from the customer center.”
“............Yoshida, you were alive......!!”
“Uh, oh, yes. I am alive.”
“I see. Yoshida, I’m glad.”

Click.

Since then, there were no more calls from Kimura-san.

+

Several years later.
This spring, Yoshida-kun resigned.

He’s apparently starting a coaching company, for which he earned qualifications while working. I don’t fully understand it, but I feel like it suits Yoshida-kun, who is always so attentive to others.

Also, next year, I will become a Yoshida.