Switching Tracks

"Miss Adachi, please come to the chief supervisor's office."

That was the message I received on the phone right as I arrived at work. Obviously it would have to be urgent if he called me over at the start of my work day. I vaguely remembered the supervisor's face, but we couldn't have talked much. Not that it was unusual for me to forget the faces of those I worked with. It was only required to remember the names in the e-mails I received in my inbox after all.

While quickly preparing my workload before I left, my mind started going through several scenarios, most of them unpleasant. It could have been just a regular employee evaluation or something, but it had never happened before, at least not on a personal level. Typically my entire department would get an evaluation.

Was I about to get fired? It's not something you wanted to think about this early in the morning or ever really. When I had entered the train with Shimamura I still had felt like this was a good day, but how quickly things could change. There was no reason to go frantic or paranoid, there really wasn't. I was doing my job the same way I had done it the last five years, so the only one who could have changed was the management, not me. I never changed. Right?

My flat shoes pushed against the rug in front of the office room. All this friction no doubt created static electricity, which would be unleashed on first contact with the door handle. I knew this, but what choice did I have but to grab it? This was what it meant to be a working gear inside a system. Grind, grind, grind away, taking all the friction until it shaved your edges away. It was the only analogy popping into my mind each time I thought of myself in this company. My imagination was as lacking as my motivation for the coming talk.

Before my fingers could make contact with the cold metal and inevitably jolt my body with a shock, the handle moved on its own and the door was pulled open. My mien did not change in the slightest when our eyes met, but the woman seemed to be unnerved by our sudden encounter. I didn't recognize her of course, but she clearly just had an unpleasant conversation behind her and was trying to escape. Guess we were in the same boat.

"Sorry." She brushed past me and fled ship. There wasn't a sense of comradery between us it seemed, even though I'd have liked to run in the same direction.

"Is that you Adachi? Come in." The supervisor had just put some files into his desk and was looking up with a raised bushy brow.

"Good morning." I said plainly and made my way inside the stuffy office. Beyond the desk and some chairs it was sparsely decorated. The file cabinet next to the large window was the only thing occupying space. That and the large monitor of the chief's computer, which covered most of him up from my perspective.

"Yeah, yeah, morning. Sit down already."

He seemed in a foul mood. The chief supervisor was a stout and sweaty man with a rapidly balding head and glasses thicker than my little finger. His mustache was probably relatively new, because it looked flimsy. That's as much as I could be bothered to inspect him though, so that description would have to do.

I took the seat I was offered (ordered to take actually) and folded my hands over my knees. My gaze was directed strictly forward at the wall. Making eye contact or looking over the messy desk might have just incited his rage. It made me extremely uncomfortable to wait for someone to talk to me. Every time I was anticipating what the person would tell me and go through potential answers, but then throw them into the mental trash compactor right away. Staging entire conversations inside my brain was doing me little good, so I just shut it off. No thought should pass through me. That was the only way to keep my pulse down and my pores closed.

I was a machine. The off-switch was always available to me. Shutting down unnecessary thoughts and emotions was the best option for someone like me. I had learned this across the years and it had given me peace of mind. As a machine, I was not required to think for myself. The input came from the outside, the software updates were simply installed.

My heartbeat was tranquil and my face emotionless.

"Aihara's got me in a bind again. That woman can't keep a budget together for more than a quarter-" The chief grumbled to himself, before finally realizing he wasn't alone. His hasty glimpse towards me made clear he had somehow forgotten about my presence. "You're awfully quiet Adachi."

"I am sorry." My reply was automated. Sincerity couldn't be replicated by something that might as well have been a recorded line, so he just sighed.

"I'll deal with this headache later. You're more important for now." He adjusted his thick glasses and picked up a tangerine. After spinning it in his hands for a while he looked my way again. Was he waiting for something? "Had breakfast yet, Adachi?"

"No." I replied truthfully.

"Didn't peg you for the type to enjoy a good breakfast anyway." He nodded to himself as if he had just cracked a complicated problem in his report.

Then he unceremoniously threw the tangerine my way. I didn't manage to catch it, so it hit my chest and then rolled into my lap. This was getting awkward enough to even strain my cold machine mind. Apparently he hadn't expected me to be this stiff either, as he picked up another and put it down in front of me this time. What was it with this company and fruit baskets anyway? There was one in almost every room. He probably was just trying to get rid of his share by pushing it onto employees.

"I am not hungry." I said while carefully placing the tangerine from my lap on the table. If I was going to be fired I at least didn't want to be used as an organic trash compactor.

"Suit yourself. These are good for your digestion, I heard. Mine's been messy ever since the last stock market numbers came in…" He rubbed his considerable belly and then sighed again when he got no reaction out of me. "Adachi, you got any clue why you are here?"

"No." My even gaze was strictly on the white wall.

"Do you remember the first time we met?"

"No."

"Funny, because I can't forget. It was on the day of your job interview." He explained and started peeling my abandoned tangerine. Now that he mentioned it, maybe that was why I vaguely remembered him. He was an interviewer. "I've been convinced from the moment I talked to you back then that you got the potential to go far. You've got a cool head, you never complain, you seem diligent through and through."

Is that how he perceived me? I had never been praised once since I started this job. There had never been a day where I could tell if my colleagues were relying on me or not. I just coldly moved the numbers on my screen hour by hour, day by day.

"But I also never saw a single smile from you." He suddenly spoke up and put down the peeled tangerine. "Adachi, do you have hobbies? Someone important? Family? A lover?"

My facial muscles stiffened up. I hadn't expected the chief to go there. I honestly had never expected to hear questions like that outside of a job interview. Wasn't this too personal? What should it matter to my superior what I did away from my work desk? If he wanted to fire me he should have just gotten it over with. If he needed a report he could have just demanded it. This interrogation… what was this?

"I have…"

There was nothing. Nothing at all. Again I was confronted with the hollowness of my existence. Again I simply accepted it without blinking. I earned money at my job to pay my bills and buy food. I paid bills to have a home and I ate food to survive. Beyond that there was nothing to me. Hobbies? I never had any. Family? I had cut all ties with them long ago. A lover was even more foreign than the concept of family. Yes, I was alone.

No no, there was something. The reason these questions felt so fresh, like I had only answered them recently, was exactly because of her. She had asked me the same things, but when she had done it I actually felt ashamed for being so empty. I wanted to respond to her, I wanted to offer her something. The same feeling could not be evoked by the chief. There was a difference so intrinsic that I could not place it.

"…a friend."

"A friend, hm?" He looked at me with that raised brow again. Doubt was a sheathed sword. One hand was placed on the hilt, ready to cut down a flimsy excuse, but until then it would stay put.

"Yes." I muttered, less certain now.

"That's nice, really. But I think that's not enough for you."

"Huh?" I blinked tensely.

"I had many like you work under me, Adachi. People without passion, without a goal. The difference is that it doesn't drag you down. You do an excellent job every day, nobody has any complaints about your results. That's why I steadily increased your workload over the years, that's why I gave you opportunities to grow more than any other newbie. Don't look at me that way, I gave you appropriate raises, didn't I?"

He had mistakenly interpreted my gaze as indignant or disgruntled, but that wasn't the case. I actually just felt confused. Had my workload really grown that much? It barely registered for me. I obviously had noticed that my pay had gone up, but I never took the time to question why. So this wasn't a raise every employee got every year?

"To be frank, you are nearly essential for your department. I would hate to see you ruin that."

"Ruin?" My ears perked up.

"I said that nobody has issues with your results, Adachi, but that was only until recently. Lately it seems you are making more errors. Your colleagues told me that you are spacing out when they see you. I wondered if it was something in your personal life, which of course is your private matter. But seems I pegged you right after all. As I said, you have no passions, no goals. The reason we could see you rise so quickly was your unparalleled focus. Focus is the most important! If you lose that, then you will get into trouble sooner or later." He tore the pieces of the tangerine apart and lined them up on a handkerchief.

This conversation was agonizing somehow. I felt my neck itch uncontrollably, but I didn't dare scratch it. The business talk was exactly as bad as I always heard. I couldn't tell if the chief wanted to motivate me or kick me down. He had just told me that my performance was lacking, so that was no good. Yet he also seemed fired up all on his own about what came next.

"Listen Adachi, I know exactly what's going on. You lack a challenge. Your work is not fulfilling, is it?"

My eyes must have twitched a little, which gave him some strange confirmation. But in reality I had no idea how to feel about his claims. Could work ever be fulfilling to someone like me? In the first place I simply didn't know what it felt like to be fulfilled. Maybe there was something to it. If I worked I was kept busy, my mind did not wander and I did not have to think about anything in particular outside of the numbers. It didn't kill my boredom, but it moved the handle of the clock a bit faster. Was that enough? Was this small trickle filling up my hollow insides until they could eventually be considered full?

"I know about your trouble with social calls. I'm told you never visit after-work parties or go out with your colleagues. Due to your talents on the technical side we have overlooked this issue until now. That's not going to cut it anymore. I've realized that you need more responsibility and stronger motivation to keep you focused. This is why I have recommended you for a promotion to temporary supervisor of our next big project!"

"What?" Now my iron mien actually received a crack of fear.

"Think about it, Adachi. A position of responsibility is exactly the challenge you need. You will be organizing a team and the efforts for the project. If everything succeeds your career will skyrocket, I guarantee it. You already have the know-how, all you need is the courage to interact with clients and your team. I have already organized a business dinner with my colleagues for next Wednesday. I want to see you there." He finally grabbed the lined up tangerine pieces and shoved them into his mouth. Swallowing them all in one go to not waste any drop. Did he even chew?

My tired eyes wavered as I stared at him eating. This revelation was too much for my mind. I had come here expecting to be chewed out, to be yelled at or even fired. Instead I was pushed forward, into an ever more terrifying rapid down the company's gullet. This emotion filling me, it was spreading quickly. Yes, I was filled, but this was not the way I had dreamed about it. It was not the fulfilling sensation the chief spoke of either.

I filled with fear.

The following evening I just lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling as per usual. My head was still spinning. The daily tasks on my computer had just passed me by, I was used to fulfilling them automatically anyway. For once my mind was entirely focused on my career and the future.

Did I want a promotion? Did I really need a challenge? Was this pressure on my shoulders something I could come to enjoy? No way. That was completely ridiculous. If this was supposed to be my future, then I still had the chance to decline. If things went poorly, I may have lost my job, but that was only a temporary set-back. I already knew that I felt no attachment to this company. Responsibility would only have dragged my leg down and made me sink endlessly.

I would have to decline right away tomorrow-

Ding.

The sound of a received message pulled me out of my spongey mental state. A sharp and decisive blow to my stressed mind. In recent weeks the sound of my phone had become more than just my alarm. There were occasional chimes of a golden bell that reminded me of someone so very different from all the dark thoughts.

Shimamura.

Evening. Did you eat dinner yet?

She had typed such an aimless message again. It was not like she asked me about my meals all the time. It was always something different, but she had sent me messages almost daily. I couldn't remember when it had started, but now it was like a ritual between us. Of course I wanted to send her messages too, but I never knew what to talk about. Shimamura's messages weren't anything special at all, but even just something as basic as this was beyond me.

There were actually many questions burning on my mind, especially in regards to her, but it felt inappropriate to voice them. Every time I typed them out, my finger was stuck to the delete button. When it came to her I never wanted to make a mistake.

My heart was racing a little when I thought of a response. I could just be direct and say that I hadn't eaten anything. But that was boring and would also cause her to worry. Was it arrogant to believe she would be worried?

"I bought something on the way home."

That response was sensible enough in my opinion. It wouldn't have been the first time I did that and Shimamura already knew that I barely cooked for myself. Yeah, this was a good reply.

Really? What was it?

I regretted my dishonesty almost instantly.

"What about you? Okonomiyaki again?"

Smooth. I couldn't believe how transparent my reply was. Instead of pressing send I should have just pretended my phone ran out of battery. It would have been slightly less pathetic.

I wish. You probably ate more than I did since last time.

"Don't resent me."

I will consider it if you come eat some with me again!

To be honest, I was kind of sick of okonomiyaki, but her response made me giggle. I seriously giggled. Now I was glad that we were just interacting via text. Shimamura had seen enough embarrassing moments of me already. That was another thing I wanted to work on. If I could appear just a bit more reliable it would have given me peace of mind.

Just when I thought our conversation energy for the day had been used up, I suddenly received something shocking and unexpected. A picture.

I stared at it for a while. Maybe minutes. This was definitely interesting. The photo depicted a girl with bleached hair. Was that the right expression? No, I guess she just dyed it. This tone of brown was pretty eye-catching, though. With a closer look I could tell that this photo was taken by a professional, maybe an ID picture? Graduation? She definitely looked like a student. Obviously, the uniform gave it away. Her eyes looked ahead in a zen like state. Pure void.

The question was why Shimamura just sent me this picture of a high-school girl out of nowhere. She seemed familiar. Super familiar.

"Your sister?"

That's me!

Oh. I had never seen her use an angry emoji before. Should I have felt proud for rousing the sleeping dragon or should I be very afraid? Either way, I liked that reaction.

"Your hair was shorter."

I kept growing it in university. Is that really the important part?

Well, obviously not. I really liked Shimamura's boundless hair, the way it waved through the air from the slightest gust of wind. It must have been a nightmare to take care of, but the contrast between her slightly lazy personality and that effort was so fascinating to me. Yet if anyone had been asked what stood out the most about this high-school girl's hair, they would have unanimously agreed.

"It's dyed."

My response was to the point. I had always noticed a faint tinge of brown in Shimamura's black hair. It was like she had permanently been marked by a hazel glow. I couldn't quite express just how much this subtle detail enraptured me at times. In comparison, this completely dyed Shimamura, this younger version who could have been my little sister, didn't quite hit the same mark. She really looked like her little sister here. The one time I had been at the Shimamura residence I had taken in the younger Shimamura's appearance and compared them.

That's why I considered that she dyed her hair recently and this caused Shimamura to send the picture to me. What a miss.

Do I look like a delinquent? Be honest. I can take it.

Why so melodramatic? I smirked.

"A little."

You really did say it straight. Wow.

Had I made a mistake? Did I hurt her feelings? I clasped my phone tightly and swallowed nervously. I of all people should have understood how bad it was to just assume someone was a delinquent because of superficial reasons!

Then I want to see some pictures of the prim and proper high-school Adachi.

There it was. The cunning side of Shimamura that she only showed through text. She never pulled this kind of thing when we were face to face. Not that I really minded.

If she wanted pictures of the past me I would have not hesitated to give them to her. That was a lie, I kinda felt embarrassed just thinking about it. But there was no decision to be made here. No struggle to be had.

"I don't have any." I muttered and send the response.

What? Not even one?

"Sorry."

I had never taken pictures of myself. There was no reason to in my opinion. Looking back on my past self was futile, because I never changed. Maybe my hair was shorter, maybe my shoulders were a bit higher, my eyes more sharp and rejecting. But those outward features never had meaning to me. Perhaps there were still some pictures from my kindergarten days, back when my mother took them. But after that, I couldn't remember anything being preserved. All the previous Adachis were gone. All the way up to the most recent picture we took together.

There was a childhood me and then there was the current me. The only difference was who stood at my side. My mother then and Shimamura now. Something was profoundly hot at the back of my scalp. I couldn't quite pinpoint the feeling.

You are wrong.

That's when Shimamura's double text message hit me. The second part was a picture file again. I hesitantly opened it and what stared back at me was… me. A younger and fiercer looking Adachi. A girl with a uniform and a light scowl. But how?

We went to the same school, so we also got the same yearbook. I just had to flip to the other classes.

It was that easy, huh? Shimamura was probably a genius. I held the phone above me and looked at the me from the past, sandwiched by Shimamura's messages. She had no idea that she would appear on someone's backlog one day. She had no idea that someone a class over would keep this link to the past alive against all odds.

I was glad. Really.

For that evening I forgot about my worries completely and just silently typed away on my phone. Our conversation was entirely silent, just text, but it felt a little like we were spending time together and recalling a shared past we did not possess. It would have been nice if I could have heard her voice as well…

The next day I was going to work early to prepare myself for a proper decision. It would have been easy to decline the chief's request, but even I was averse to getting fired out of nowhere. I would have to prepare some job applications as a precaution. When it came to savings I could probably last a couple of years even if I was completely cut off from any income. That was one of the reasons I was so carefree about keeping my job.

I sighed as I sat down at my desk and started up the computer. It didn't feel like I was at work yet. Nobody else was there and the lights in most of the rooms were off. There was also the fact that the ride here had been completely silent. It was too early for there to be anyone beside me…

My heart shrunk painfully and I was afraid that I had contracted some cardiac disease. Perhaps my habit of skipping breakfast had finally caused my body to refuse operation.

It happened again when I tried to think about the ride to work. Yes, that was probably the cause of it all. When I boarded the train I had felt a deep need to turn around and look for long hair fluttering through the air. The outline of a woman who had just overslept a little and missed her previous train was almost visible to my longing eyes. But there had been nothing but an empty platform. Naturally, we couldn't have shared a ride when I changed my schedule.

This was the push I needed. If I got fired, if I switched my job now, who knows where I would have ended up? A different district or even a different city? Whichever it was, my chances of boarding the same train as her would sink drastically. I didn't want that. If there was anything I could tell about my heart right now, it was that it didn't want that. We had those calming conversations in the evenings, but if we didn't meet in the mornings, then those may have faded as well.

Our one connection was threatened to be cut.

"Shimamura." Speaking her name filled me with a little bit of courage. Just a thimble, but that would take me far enough.

I marked my phone calendar with an 'important' stamp on Wednesday.