[Short Story] Refund ~Shirokuma Literature Club~

March is a busy time for tax returns.
Working at an accounting firm, I find myself coming home late during this season.
Every day is spent buried in documents, converting other people's years into numbers. Medical expenses, mortgage interest deductions, charitable donations. People's lives are neatly filed into columns, sorted into either a refund or an additional tax payment.

That day, during my lunch break, as I was gulping down a bottled green tea and opened my email, one subject line caught my eye.

~Please declare your happiness~

If you have too much happiness, unhappiness will be refunded,
and if you have too much unhappiness, happiness will be refunded.

It was strangely concise for spam, with a dry tone that sounded like a tax office document. For some reason, my finger, poised to delete it, stopped. The light from the fluorescent lamp fell onto the documents on my desk.

Come to think of it, this past year had been miserable.
I was walking absentmindedly, tripped over a curb, and broke my ankle.
I lost so much money on pachinko, which I had intended as a distraction, that my wife finally cut off my allowance.
At work, a series of small judgment errors piled up, and the section chief's chair that I was supposed to sit in was taken by a junior colleague.

Where could there possibly be any room to declare happiness?
Every day, I refund other people's taxes. Surely, a little bit of happiness should be returned to me, since I've been so unhappy.

I pressed the assessment button.
The word "declare," which I was so accustomed to in my work, had tempted me.

A reply arrived immediately.

For this fiscal year, your happiness level is 573 points over.
We will refund your unhappiness within one month.
Click here to file an objection.

Something felt cold deep in my chest.
Excess happiness?
Don't be ridiculous.
Reflexively, I sent an objection.

The response was even faster.

Due to your ankle fracture, you avoided a bus rollover accident you were scheduled to encounter on a later trip.
As a result of quitting pachinko, your wife started a gold investment plan. She bought a necktie with the increase.
The junior colleague who was promoted is currently undergoing medical treatment due to excessive workload.

Based on the above, you are judged to have excess happiness for this fiscal year.
Objection dismissed.

The characters on the screen were dark and unwavering, just like an official certificate.
I remembered the dull pain remaining in my ankle. Was that not unhappiness?
I remembered the pale face of my junior colleague. Was that my substitute?

Happiness is likely not something that can be seen.
The presence of something that passed silently by my side.
I had not "declared" those things.

Even so, what form would the unhappiness being refunded within a month take?
Would it arrive in an envelope, or would it arrive silently?

I hurriedly closed my email inbox.
The screen went dark, and only the tax return forms on my desk stood out in white. The whiteness of the paper felt terribly cold.
The assessment is already done.
Even if I don't declare it, they know.
I quietly turned over my palms, which had entered nothing.

I participated in this prompt.
Thank you.