Third time pays for all

Summery

The author, having entered a prestigious university, finds themselves repeatedly stalled, lost, and drifting backward on the path to graduation. Three rounds of job hunting and two years of academic delay mark a journey not of progress, but of avoidance. While peers move forward, the author struggles to find a place in the world, consistently choosing not to choose.

Excitement over corporate outreach quickly fades into silence during interviews, and even when offers come, the prospect of working brings little hope. Entering society does not ease the discomfort; isolation persists, and the desire not to work remains unchanged despite career shifts.

This memoir is not a tale of triumph or transformation. It is the quiet record of a young person gradually fading into the background of society, weighed down by resignation and regret.

―And yet, the struggle goes on.

Third time pays for all

Hello.

I entered the Faculty of Business and Commerce at Keio University in 2012 and graduated in 2018.

I repeated my senior year twice and went through job hunting three times.

Therefore, the content that follows will mainly focus on my experiences with job hunting.

I hope that this writing may be of some help to those who read it.

Lastly, I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude to [●●]-kun for giving me the chance to write this.

To begin with the conclusion: job hunting is much like taking an entrance exam.

No student starts studying after the exam has begun.

The outcome is determined by how much preparation is done before the process starts.

Also, those events that feel dull or pain on your neck—you should probably attend them.

It may be none of my business, but if there's one thing I hope you'll take away from this, it's that.

In 2015, I advanced to my senior year.

Corporate enthusiasm for hiring new graduates was on the rise, continuing from the previous year as the economy gradually recovered from the Lehman shock. It was, in many ways, an ideal environment for job seekers.

On the other hand, changes to the recruitment schedule made it difficult to grasp the overall timeline, which I remember as being quite confusing.

Internships were starting to be valued, but some companies didn’t offer them at all, and they weren’t considered as essential as they are today.

Back in high school, I had repeated a year due to poor grades, and even in university, I had few close friends. I was introverted and socially withdrawn.

Though I understood the importance of internships from the limited information I got from my few friends, I hesitated and ended up going through the entire job-hunting process without attending a single one.

My preparation was poor from the start, but strangely enough, that first year of job hunting may have been the peak of my popularity in life.

Despite not giving out my contact information, I received calls from various companies every day, and my schedule was packed to the brim.

I believe full-time recruitment began in August that year, with offers officially opening around the same time. Even on August 1st, I was receiving requests for OB visits from companies I had never heard of before.

Among them were niche firms known only to insiders, as well as major corporations recognized by everyone. I became completely carried away, throwing myself into company information sessions and focusing solely on increasing the number of entries.

Attending OB visits and company briefings was genuinely enjoyable. There were days when I visited four or five companies, and I think I ended up attending around a hundred in total.

This approach stemmed from my goal of joining a manufacturing company despite being in a humanities faculty. I believed that if I cast a wide enough net, something would eventually stick.

At the time, I considered manufacturers to be “white” (good working conditions), while banks, IT firms, and service industries were “black” (poor working conditions).

Having come to realize through my student life that I wasn’t suited for working, I saw getting hired as the ultimate goal and aimed for a position at a manufacturing company.

However, due to neglecting interview preparation and industry research, I was met with failure after failure once the recruitment process began.

I did manage to reach the final interview stage at one company, but I was so nervous that when asked about my motivation for applying by a row of executives, I simply replied, “I forgot.”

After the official recruitment period began, I received rejection after rejection, while my peers steadily secured job offers. By autumn, I was physically and mentally exhausted, and I ended up quitting the job hunt midway through the year.

Fortunately, my family appreciated the effort I had put into visiting companies daily and allowed me to repeat the year to try again.

Looking back now, I should have joined internships alongside my juniors to better prepare for the following year.

In my second year of job hunting, I learned to narrow down the number of companies I applied to, reflecting on the mistakes I made during the first year.

Part of the reason was that I had already visited most of the companies I was curious about during my initial attempt.

Also, since I had intended to secure a job in my first year, I vaguely felt that it would be difficult to get into a better company in the second year or beyond.

Perhaps as a reaction to the burnout from that first year, I continued my job search with a lingering sense of disillusionment.

As expected, job hunting in the second year and beyond became increasingly difficult.

To be specific, my application documents stopped getting through, and I was more frequently questioned in interviews about the reasons for my academic delays.

That said, by applying the lessons learned from my first year, I was able to secure a job offer.

I think I managed to stay motivated by broadening the industries I applied to, narrowing down my target companies, dedicating time to preparation and research, and actively exchanging information with friends.

However, the company that offered me the position was a small local subsidiary of a foreign firm, with poor working conditions, and I didn’t feel I could continue working there after graduation.

The offer came quite late in the season, and it would have been difficult to secure another one from that point. More than anything, I simply didn’t want to go through job hunting again.

In the end, I kept hesitating until time ran out, and the recruitment periods for promising companies had all passed—so I ended up repeating the year once again.

Naturally, my parents were angry the second time around, but in the end, they forgave me again.

By the third year, I was no longer in a position to make the kinds of selfish choices I had in the first and second years. My only goal was to secure a job offer—nothing more.

Interestingly, even in my third year, I still received calls from companies encouraging me to apply, and some of them seemed to offer fairly good conditions.

That year, I joined the job hunt alongside juniors and graduate students, and I managed to receive an offer right at the start of the official recruitment period.

What’s more, the offer came from a manufacturer—the very type of company I had originally aimed for.

I still don’t quite understand what part of me appealed to them, but the interview process went surprisingly smoothly, and I got the offer so effortlessly that it made me wonder what all the previous struggles had been for.

Even after receiving the offer, I continued job hunting for a while, but it was hard to find a company with better conditions, so I ultimately decided to join the one that had given me the first offer.

In truth, I was cutting it very close with my credits, and I was constantly anxious that I might be expelled.

Even now, I sometimes have dreams where I didn’t graduate.

The company I finally joined was, for better or worse, one that strongly retained the atmosphere of Japan’s Showa era.

It was a family-run owner-operated business, where career advancement for employees was limited. However, the president was deeply committed to management, actively working to improve employee benefits and investing in facilities.

They had their own well-equipped factory and labor union, and although the company operated in a niche industry, its revenue base was solid. Despite being a manufacturer, the profit margins on their products were remarkably high.

I joined the company as a sales representative.

Sales required deep relationships both inside and outside the company—something that, despite three years of job hunting experience, I still struggled with due to my social awkwardness. I ended up feeling isolated and eventually left the company.

Looking back, I made many mistakes, but I do believe the people around me genuinely tried to help me fit in.

There were several reasons why I quit.

One was simply that the nature of the sales role—driving company cars to visit distant clients every week—didn’t suit me.

That said, the company didn’t skimp on resources: the company car wasn’t a Suzuki Alto, but a Toyota Aqua, which showed they were willing to invest.

Travel expenses were properly covered, and I could conduct business trips solo and at my own pace, so for someone with the right disposition, it would have been a relatively comfortable job.

However, one downside of the owner-operated structure was that the executives involved the company in a musical organization’s performances that had no synergy with the business, and I was forced to help out, which I found frustrating.

Apparently, I was the first Keio graduate the company had ever hired, and I later learned that I had drawn a lot of negative attention because of it. Once I knew that, I decided to leave.

Since I left without leaving a good impression, I suspect they may never hire another Keio graduate again.

I’ve since changed jobs and now work in the back office of a wholesale company that supplies convenience stores. Even so, I still feel that I’m not suited for working—I simply don’t want to work.

Now, as a member of society looking back on my past, I realize there were countless choices I could have made to build a better future.

Life is said to be a series of choices, but by avoiding them and running away, I’ve ended up in a difficult present.

And yet, society seems to have a surprisingly wide embrace—even someone like me, who’s failed in so many ways, has somehow managed to keep working.

In the end, preparation is everything. Even if you end up at a black company, if you’re still young, you’ll probably survive.

Thank you for reading this far.