On the first day of school in Japan, a six-year-old walks out the door carrying a leather bag that cost her parents around $500. It is called a randoseru. Hand-stitched. Real leather. Rigid frame. Bright red for the girls. Deep black for the boys. She will use this one bag every single day for six years. At the end of six years: the leather will still hold its shape. The buckles will still snap crisp. The name written inside will still be legible. Sometimes, the bag will be passed down to her own child. Some countries give a child a plastic backpack that lasts one year. Japan gives a six-year-old a piece of leather that will graduate elementary school with her, carry every drawing she ever made, hold every lunchbox her mother packed, and, if she is lucky, sit on her own child's shoulders one day. Because a first day of school is not a small thing.