‘I’m not going to work today,’ he said from the bed.

She leaned over him. Her brow creased in concern. ‘Are you sick?’

‘Just tired. I’ll be fine after resting for a day.’ He could smell her perfume: a fresh, floral fragrance.

‘All right. I’ll let Madam know.’ Yoko grabbed her bag. ‘It’s so unlike you to miss work.’

‘Everyone has days like that.’

‘Days like that …’ She repeated his words slowly and paused. ‘But if you’re unwell, please see the doctor. I could come with you.’

‘I’m okay. I just need to rest.’

Shrugging, she got ready to leave.

He glanced at her and called, ‘Hey, Yoko.’

She turned around. ‘Uhm?’

‘Do you think there’s any meaning in what we’re doing?’

She looked at him. ‘What?’

‘Do you think we’re helping our clients? That listening to them alone can be of use? Have you ever wondered if we’re just encouraging them in their delusions?’

Yoko crossed her arms. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I am,’ he said. ‘But, please. Answer my questions.’

She paused before taking a deep breath. ‘What do you expect? We’re just doing our job. We’re not creating miracle potions, cure-it-all pills. Like everyone else in society, we’re here to play our part.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Do you want to hear what I think?’ She stared into his eyes. ‘Shoji, you’re not clear about your role. You’re letting your personal feelings cloud your judgement. You’re getting too attached to your client.’

He avoided her eyes.

‘Once you want to take action, or you start longing for a different outcome, this job is no longer for you. Being a listener is a passive role. You need to be kind and empathise, but at the same time to suppress your own thoughts, and that can be a lot to ask. It’s not easy.’

Yoko was right.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you at dinner. Have a good rest.’

Once she left, Shoji shifted his position and looked through the open window. It was another bright, beautiful day. But he didn’t remember ever seeing the sky so pale before — white, as if it had been stripped of its colour. It reminded him of a blank sheet of paper, left unwritten.

He felt uneasy.

•

At some point, Shoji fell asleep. When he woke up, it was half past noon. He showered, got dressed in warm clothes, grabbed his backpack, and headed out for lunch, wondering what Madam’s reaction to his absence might have been.

She would be suspicious after what had happened yesterday. Or perhaps, she would’ve anticipated it. He couldn’t be the only employee who’d had a meltdown. She would probably remind him of the rules and, after that, pretend nothing had happened. Business as usual.

Shoji took a deep breath and rubbed his hands. The weather had got colder, and he wondered if he should start wearing gloves. He was a couple of steps away from the bus stop when he heard an engine roar behind him.