‘Well, whatever it is, you should go. You’ve worked hard.’ He glanced at the calendar. ‘But this is a bad time. We have the yearly editorial meeting coming up, don’t we? And you need to be there.’

‘I’ll take whatever I can get,’ Shoji said. ‘This is important to me.’

Yoshioka gave him a long look. ‘I understand. I’ll talk to the management.’

In the end, they only gave him three days. Yoshioka was apologetic about it. ‘As you know, we’re short on staff, and the meeting is important.’

‘That can’t be helped,’ Shoji said, and thanked his senior.

•

After immigration, Shoji passed by the airport’s duty-free store. He’d forgotten to pack a gift, but he ought to bring something. He looked at the options in front of him. A bottle of wine? Or what about perfume?

Shoji stood in the fragrance aisle, feeling overwhelmed by the huge selection. Rows of dainty bottles fought for his attention. He often reviewed fragrances for magazines, but the companies sent them in. He’d never had to pick one himself. He merely allocated them scores based on set parameters.

‘Can I help you?’ a shop assistant asked.

He looked at the eager-looking young woman. She would know more than him. ‘I’m looking for a gift for a lady.’

‘Do you have any particular brand or scent in mind?’

‘Not really.’

She nodded a few times, seemingly digesting what he’d told her. ‘In that case, what about a fresh fragrance?’ She went closer to the shelves and fetched a bottle, spraying the perfume on to a white paper strip, which she gave to him. ‘This is one of our bestsellers with women, and a personal favourite of mine.’

Shoji sniffed it. The floral perfume has a hint of citrus. He glanced at the bottle. Happy.

‘I’ll take this,’ he said.

‘Certainly,’ the shop assistant replied. ‘Please follow me to the cashier.’

As he made his way through the various aisles, Shoji remembered a conversation he’d once had with Yoko about being happy. They were relaxing in their small apartment after a long day at work. Yoko was painting her toenails. Shoji was lying on the couch when the question drifted into his mind.

‘What do you think happiness and success are?’ he asked her.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do you ask?’

He shrugged. ‘Just thought of it.’

‘Oh.’ She dipped the tiny brush into the nail polish bottle. ‘I think happiness depends on your priorities, and success depends on your goals.’

‘Then what are your priorities and goals?’

‘My priorities … survival, I guess?’ She made careful strokes. ‘I want to have enough to eat and a place to rest without compromising my dignity. My goal right now is also to survive. That sounds too generic, but I don’t have high aims. I’m not planning to be a millionaire.’

‘What will you do if you win a lottery?’