Episode 1

Since last night, my mental gears have refused to mesh properly.

What I took out of the fridge thinking it was water turned out to be shiro-dashi. I only realised after I’d already put it to my lips. My brain sounded the alarm at the throat-scorching saltiness, and that’s when it finally clicked. So this morning’s breakfast was undiluted shiro-dashi concentrate. The dilute tenfold kind — the strong stuff.

It only got worse from there.

I have a rule that this blouse gets paired with pumps in the same colour — and I nearly walked out in platform sneakers that would have set my fashion credibility back several years. I also missed my transfer stop by one station.

I arrived at the office about ten minutes late to find nobody else in yet, the slanted morning light through the windows falling across my small self. Still before start time, and already on my third or fourth sigh of the day.

I sit at my desk, clock in as usual, and begin going through my emails.

Begin going through my emails. A routine I’ve performed hundreds of times, as automatic as breathing. And yet — my hands stop. A voice poured thick and syrupy into my head last night echoes back at me.

My heartbeat is too loud.

Two meetings before noon today. A rare afternoon with nothing scheduled — the plan was to work through the backlog and build some breathing room for future-me.

So switch off and focus. That’s what I keep telling myself. My heartbeat refuses to cooperate.

◇

Exchanging replies in email, trading words with colleagues drifting in one by one — slowly, something like my normal rhythm began to return. I’m fairly good at switching off, if I do say so myself.

That’s a lie.

The reason I live the way I do is precisely because I can’t switch off. No one knows that better than me.

There I go again — same old habit. Falling straight down into the sea of my own thoughts. I was just about to pinch my cheek to snap myself out of it, when:

“Ito-chaaaaan!! I am so sorry about yesterday!! Are you doing okay? Are you tired? Have you been eating? You can leave early today if you need to!!!”

Drawing every eye on the floor, a gyaru — correction, my manager — Hayama-san makes her entrance.

“Good morning. I’m completely fine, really — I’m not a child.”

I tell her with a wry smile, and she exhales in relief with the dramatic flair of a manga character.

“Good, good, but — Ito-chan, when it comes to work you never say ‘I can’t’ or ‘I don’t want to,’ which is why I always worry. Nothing good comes from pushing yourself. Oh — and I’ll add the overtime to your pay, of course!”

She’s still going, pulling her laptop and phone out of her bag as she talks.

“Every request, a perfect hit… ask what kind of person she is, and you’ll find her private life shrouded in mystery… a cool lady… Takemi Hiito… a frightening woman…”

She turns to the colleague in the next seat, don’t you think?, making the rounds. I feel a headache coming on just watching her.

What is this person on about.

The conversational tempo is relentless. She’s the type who gives back ten for every one you throw — you need to brace yourself before engaging.

Having played around to her satisfaction, she shifts gear, and her tone turns genuinely warm as she thanks me.

“Honestly, I thought about just handling it myself in the middle of the night, but with putting the kids to bed and everything, I couldn’t get to a president-level matter on top of all that. You really saved me. Thank you.”

Gyaru plus genius plus mum. That’s Hayama-san. She’s a fair bit older than me — still basically fresh out of my new-hire phase — but she’s young for a manager, and trusted by the people above her.

Normally I find her a little exhausting, but today her noise is oddly comfortable.

◇

“Ugnnn…”

I press both hands against my temples and let out a small groan. I can feel a look from the colleague next to me — somewhere between concern and pity — but I don’t have the bandwidth to worry about it right now.

One notification in the chat tool. A message from an icon I’m not used to seeing.

The morning meetings wrapped up without incident, no sudden urgent insertions. The way things feel right now, today should end peacefully.

— I’d been planning to slip out for lunch once the crowd thinned a little.

I slump as I read the message again.

Good work today! Would you like to get lunch after this? I know a great place! Somewhere quiet ♡ Waiting for your reply~!

Checkmate. That’s the word for this.

Even if I declined, notifications would keep arriving every day until I gave in. Even if I ignored it, she’d think nothing of it and send another. Thinking back over last night’s sequence of events, I can only conclude she has exactly that kind of energy.

What would happen, I wonder, if I accepted?

Something might change. The gears that have been grinding and catching since yesterday might slip their teeth entirely and go somewhere I can’t follow.

“Uggggh…”

At this rate I’ll bore a hole through my own temple.

I take a long breath, fire back a short reply, and leave the office.

I probably shouldn’t go. But if I don’t go, this won’t end. The moment I thought that — maybe it was already too late.