Joshoku

by Hildred Billings

“Why the hell not?”

  “Because quiet can be nice too.”

  Such was their third anniversary, a far cry from the first or even second. Is this how it will be from now on? What would their lives even be like a year from now? Would Reina have her full time job? Would Aiko? Will I even be in Japan? Those were scary thoughts. Scary because it meant Aiko had to face being an adult, and she wasn’t yet ready for that.

  “I look so stupid.”

  Aiko finished brushing off Reina’s shoulders. Their eyes met in the mirror, where Reina stood in a pantsuit for the first time in, well, forever. I look like a pretender. The clothes were bought secondhand, but she hoped they looked brand new. Expensive, too. But it didn’t help that the pants were a little short, and the jacket loose in her bony shoulders. The only thing getting Reina’s nod of approval was her new haircut that clipped her bangs above her eyes and behind the ears. Yet I still look like a pretender. A woman pretending to be a man.

  “You don’t look stupid at all. You look...” Aiko cocked her head. “Very handsome.”

  “Handsome?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Reina looked at herself again. Do I want to look handsome? Would that score her points at her job interviews? All she had cared about was wearing nice clothes. Nice, ironed clothes thanks to Aiko, who stayed overnight and helped her girlfriend get ready for her day of job interviews. Forty applications went out, and ten came back wanting an interview. The first one was today. The more Reina thought about it, the more she wanted to puke.

  “You’re going to do great,” Aiko reassured her. She straightened the back of Reina’s jacket and smiled. “And if you don’t get this job, think of it as practice for the others.”

  So much for reassurance.

  Reina went downstairs and picked up a briefcase she left there the night before, full of her official forms, backup copies of her applications... she still felt like a pretender. Who do I think I am? A salaryman? The idea had been laughable a year ago. It was even more laughable when Aiko kissed her goodbye and saw her out the door.

  Two of the ten interviews faced Reina that day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. The one that cold January morning was in Shinjuku, far from the familiar alleys of Ni-chome or even San-chome and heinously close to the station hub, where important looking buildings towered over the denizens in a testament to economic power. When Reina arrived, she stood outside one of the buildings and felt a sense of dread. What am I signing up for? Two years ago she was on a theatre stage singing bad pop songs. Now she was trying to be a corporate worker? An identity crisis snuck up on her without her ever knowing it.

  Things did not progress from there. Reina walked into the building and approached the front desk, only to be herded into a waiting room with a few others in suits and an employee processing them. Reina handed in her invitation for an interview and provided a copy of her ID. The employee waved her through another door, and she lost all sense of hope.

  People. So many people. Men (and a few women) lined up along a long wall, curling around a corner and lingering on staircases. There must be hundreds of them. All wearing the same three piece suits and carrying the same black briefcases. Security guards wandered around, directing job candidates as if they were on an assembly line. Reina stood in the back, gob smacked. There’s no way I’ll get the job! She couldn’t compete against so many men! The other few women there wore pencil skirts and their long hair up in pristine buns. Minimal make-up covered their faces – not enough to call attention to it, but enough to cover the blemishes the male interviewers would scoff at. Then there was Reina, with her short hair, her pantsuit, and barely any blush on her cheeks. I’m an imposter.

  “Well, well, fancy seeing you here.”

  Reina turned around and came face to face with Ryota, wearing a suit and tie and combing his hair back. He straightened out his jacket and picked up his briefcase off the floor. “You applied for this job too?”

  “Every second year student at St. Francis has.” This was the first time Reina ever saw this man independent of Hitomi. He was quiet around her, but now he put on a haughty air as if Reina should be impressed he knew how to tie his own shoes. Even I can do that. “They’re in good with this company, you know. Gives me an edge over the competition.”

  “And me, in that case.”

  “Yeah, over you too.”

  “I meant it gives me an edge too.”

  Ryota scoffed. “You? Who the hell is gonna hire you, you damn dyke?”

  Reina turned back around. She didn’t have to take this.

  “What are you doing applying here anyway? You gonna actually work like some man? Yabai, women like you really are something else. Here I thought most of you married dudes so you could have a wallet to suck out of anyway.”

  Reina clenched her fists. Thank God the rabble in the room was too loud for anyone else to hear what this asshole said. “What’s the attitude? Isn’t your girlfriend applying for jobs too?”

  “Maybe. I told her she doesn’t have to though. I’m gonna get a job so we can get married and she’ll never have to work a day in her life.”

  “That appeals to you, huh?”

  “Shit, that appeals to everyone who’s normal! You don’t get it, ‘cause you ain’t normal.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” The line moved forward a few centimeters. A normal life, huh? For Reina, that implied marrying a man and becoming some sweet housewife who dropped a few kids out of her and tried to not let them die. Sounds like something Aiko would be into. Now there was a lesbian who would otherwise marry a man for convenience. Luckily she had Reina to sway her from that. Then what’s she gonna do? Aiko hadn’t talked about job searching. Just Reina. Why? Because I want to... provide?

  For the first time in her life she became wholly conscious of what she was doing in a situation like this. She looked around, marking herself as an imposter among these men. The other women stood out. Not Reina. She blended in like the stranger she was, mimicking men, absorbing their habits and mannerisms in the hopes of fooling the interviewers into thinking she wasn’t a woman. Does that mean I want to be a man? Of course it didn’t. That would be absurd.

  As she shuffled forward in line, however, she thought about her future. Before, she assumed she would continue to live at home and help support her mother. On weekends Aiko would come over. Maybe she would have a job too. But now Reina wasn’t so sure. If two lesbians want to make it in this world... It only made sense that they both work or one of them worked to support them both. Was it like playing straight? Reina had no idea anymore. By the time she reached her turn for the interview, she was so confused she dropped a male pronoun for herself during the introductions. She knew she was doomed when she saw the looks of confusion on her interviewers’ faces.

  Imposter, they seemed to say. Everyone could see through Reina’s disguise.

  The day Aiko walked into her adviser’s office and turned in her thesis was liberating.

  “Homosexuality in 20th Century Western Literature.” The adviser looked up from her tray of greasy yakisoba, the sauce of which stank up the office. “So you managed to do it.”

  Aiko waited for her adviser to slurp her noodles before responding. “I took your advice to heart, sensei.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “I made some of the changes you suggested.” Originally, Aiko had wanted to write about lesbianism specifically, but couldn’t find enough evidence to write fifty pages (in English, no less) on the topic. She settled for the broader homosexuality and spent the past two months reading everything she could get her hands on and revising draft after draft of her thesis. While Reina was out pounding the payment, Aiko was locked in her house at the family computer. Junko nearly had a stroke when she saw how much paper and ink her daughter used to print out the longest paper of her life. Am I ever glad she can’t read English! She told her mother she was writing about “romance,” or something.

  The stack of paper wen
t into a basket full of theses by the other young women the professor advised. “Good work. Take a bit of a rest before jumping into your presentation prep. You’re scheduled to present next Thursday, but I want to see your materials by Tuesday.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Aiko was waved out so her adviser could finish eating her lunch. After a deep bow at the waist, Aiko excused herself and trotted down to the train station, completely ignoring the strange looks she received as she started counting down the days until graduation.

  She wanted to call Reina when she got home, to gloat and ask if she could come over. This time I want to initiate sex. There wasn’t much time those past few months to do more than roll around for a few minutes a couple of times a week. Aiko was fit to burst like her girlfriend also probably was.

  Sadly, she remembered that Reina was at her study group that afternoon, and wouldn’t be available to chat until later that evening when she got home from work. Aiko got off the subway at her station feeling less chipper than she did when she left her adviser’s office.

  Her mood did not have the chance to improve in the coming hour.

  A somber air greeted her when she entered her house. “Tadaima!” she called, taking off her shoes and wandering inside. She dropped her book bag by the staircase and looked around for her mother. Did she go to the store? Aiko dropped that theory the moment she heard sniffles coming from the living room.

  Junko was at the sitting table, fingers rubbing her eyes as she held a tissue to her nose. Aiko closed the door behind her when she entered. The sound was loud enough to alarm Junko, who turned a tear-stained face to her daughter before looking away again.

  “Ma? What’s wrong?” Junko rarely cried. Or at least rarely enough that Aiko knew something was terribly wrong. Is it Father? One of my siblings? She sank next to her mother at the table. “Are you okay?”

  More sniffles entered the air as Junko blew her nose. “Oh, Ai-chan,” she said, taking her daughter’s hand. “My sweet girl, it’s the most terrible thing. Your great auntie... she passed away this morning at my sister’s house. What bad luck!”

  Aiko lessened her grip on her mother’s hand. Auntie Kanoko is dead? She didn’t know how to feel. She was trapped between wanting to comfort her mother and going up to her room, where life never changed – people never died, relationships never ended, and she never had to think about the future. What will I do when I graduate? It seemed improper to think about it now, but there it was. Change was coming. People were dying as stages of life came to an end.

  For two months Reina played the job searching game, going to at least three interviews a week and getting far fewer callbacks. In the beginning she kept her hopes up as she attended interviews for the companies linked to her college, but as time went on and they turned her down, she realized she was in a bigger predicament than earlier estimated. By the end of January, she applied to forty more jobs and heard back from about half of them. She would go to high-rises in Ikebukuro, Shinjuku, Shibuya, and Tamachi, but she knew she didn’t stand a chance against the dozens of men there. How could she? More than once she was laughed out of an interview when they expressed surprise that she was a woman – even though her application made it very clear what her sex was – or asked if she had meant to apply as a secretary. The only reason Reina kept trying after the end of February was because she didn’t know what else to do with her life. She couldn’t work at her part time job forever.

  One week before graduation, Reina attended a second-round interview in the Tamachi business district. Although this was not her first second-rounder, she still had hope – which was quickly dashed when she entered the building and saw the usual line of suspects.

  This time there was no more Ryota. Reina heard he was offered a job over a month ago. Heard it from Hitomi, who talked about it loudly in one of her classes. This was after she flashed her engagement ring and said to Yoko – since they were on speaking terms again – that she was thrilled she wouldn’t have to look for a job because Ryota would support her after they got married that summer. “I’m thinking of having two, maybe three children,” she said. “I have all the time in the world to think about it now that I know I’ll get to be a housewife.” Reina rolled her eyes at that one.

  She stood in line looking over the company information like always before an interview. Best to know some random shit in case it came up. Not that it had ever done her any good...

  “Ms. Reina Yamada?” A secretary popped out from the inner office. “Mr. Kawaguchi will see you now.”

  The men in line in front of Reina turned to look at her. The heck? She had never been called out of line before. Nevertheless, she straightened her clothing, picked up her briefcase, and followed the secretary into the office.

  She also had never been interviewed by only one person before, and yet a single elderly man sat behind a table, sharpening pencils as if he had no other time to do so. The secretary closed the door behind Reina, leaving her alone with this balding uncle.

  “Ah, you must be Yamada-san.” The man put down his pencils and folded his hands on top of his desk. “Have a seat.”

  Without a word Reina sat down. Protocol dictated that she should at least formally introduce herself, but she was already thrown so far off and had so little hope that she doubted forgoing the formalities hurt her any. I have no idea what the hell to expect. Called out of line? A single interviewer for a major corporation? She felt like she was back at St. Francis and Sister Angela was summoning her for sleeping in class again.

  “We don’t get many women applying for positions like this,” Mr. Kawaguchi said, shuffling his papers aside. “I admit, when I noticed a woman was interviewing today, I had to talk to you.”

  Reina shifted uneasily in her seat. “I’m flattered, I guess.”

  “You will be graduating next week with an Associate’s in Japanese?”

  “Hai.”

  “Interesting. What is your favorite kanji?”

  Reina blurted out the first one to come to her mind. “Bijin.” She instantly wanted to slap her hand over her mouth.

  Mr. Kawaguchi sat back, eyes wide. “Bijin? Why that one?”

  Shit! Reina was supposed to choose a meaningful word. Something philosophical, or business like. Anything but “beautiful women.” Her joshoku had struck again. Somewhere back on campus Sister Angela was groaning into the top of her desk. “I... well... it means beautiful woman, and yet the characters that make it up mean beautiful person.” She bit her lip, searching for other words to save her ass. “There aren’t many other examples of a general description like that applying only to women. Usually it refers only to men, or both sexes. Women aren’t given many kanji that aren’t somehow demeaning or othering.” Great. Bust out the feminist propaganda during her interview. Ended things really fast.

  “Hm, that’s true. I never thought of it that way.” Mr. Kawaguchi continued to smile as he peeked at Reina’s application. His spectacles slipped down his nose, but he did not correct them. “It says here you used to work at the old theatre not too far from here. What did you do there?”

  “Oh, uh...” Reina didn’t like bringing this part of her past up. Another thing for interviewers to laugh at. “I was a performer.”

  “In a girl group? Like an idol?”

  Don’t fucking call me that. Reina loved the term “idol” as much as she loved any other word that insinuated she was the lust of every man over the age of thirty. “I wouldn’t say idol. We weren’t that popular.” They cut one single but it was never released outside of the theatre.

  “Uh huh. Well, then, how would you like a job at this company?”

  Jaw dropping into her lap, Reina gagged on words that weren’t even there.

  “Bit sudden, I suppose. But I more or less decided to offer you a job the moment you walked in here. A woman alone piqued my interest. Then I saw your interesting background and decided you’re just the kind of person we need to shake things up
around here. I am actually the section chief of the department we are hiring for. The people there now... well, it’s men. I want to mix it up. Bring in people with different backgrounds and new ideas. I’m a bit liberal, aren’t I?” The old man laughed. “Pick up your jaw, Yamada-san; this isn’t a prank.”

  The hell it wasn’t! Reina dropped her briefcase on the floor and scrambled to pick it up. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

  “Take the job offer! Even if you don’t, I’m sending those other bozos home. What are they going to offer me? My department? The entire company? I have a vision. It’s a small one, but I need someone like you to help me enact it.”

  Even after Reina agreed and shook on it... even after she was given a stack of forms to fill out and a pat on the back... even after she saw the other candidates dismissed by the secretary... it still hadn’t sunk in. The cosmos must be playing some sort of trick on her. It had been written into her life since her birth that the status quo would never want anything to do with her. A toxic thought she hadn’t even considered until the moment she left the building, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

  Life was a blur the following week. After Aiko had her thesis presentation she graduated with honors, a feat that made her mother cry at the ceremony. While Reina could not be there because of finals, Aiko made sure a million pictures were taken – she had them developed before Reina returned home that evening.

  Reina may not have been able to attend her girlfriend’s graduation, but Aiko was able to go to Reina’s. The junior college ceremony was much smaller than the one at Aiko’s university. Reina was one of the last to be called for her certificate, and Aiko made sure to get a million more pictures that she ran off to develop as soon as possible.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she said afterward, patting Reina’s cheek. Aiko felt compelled to say it since Reina’s mother did not come to the ceremony. Due to work, she says. The truth was probably more depressing.

  Their festivities were interrupted when a cough rang out behind them. In a crowded auditorium it could have belonged to anyone, but Reina glanced up and paled at the sight of who she saw. Aiko turned to find a foreign nun, complete in black habit and unhappy wrinkles, hovering around them. I’ve never seen a nun up close before. This one did not look like a model of Christian charity.