The Monday after yakitori night came harder than I expected. I'd barely peeled myself out of bed in time. My body was slow, mind even slower, still wrapped in the warm haze of the weekend. Nothing wild happened, just a bunch of us eating skewers, trading dumb jokes, and talking about anything but work. Still, it left a mark. A good one. The kind you don't realize you need until it's already over.
And, yeah... maybe part of that had to do with Lin.
The office felt especially sleepy that morning. Desks lit up slowly, monitors booting, and the coffee machine in the break area was already wheezing like it had given up. Typical Monday.
"Morning," Kayla mumbled, collapsing into her chair and pulling her hoodie over her head.
"Morning," I yawned back. "New hoodie?"
She pointed at the pixelated raccoon on the front. "Limited drop. Only twenty in existence. This guy's my new spiritual guide."
Kenji wandered over, holding a cup of coffee. He looked rough.
"Rough night?" I asked.
He dropped into the chair next to mine with a grunt. "Sapphire texted me. Said we need to 're-align our spiritual frequencies.' That girl talks like she's auditioning to be a crystal."
Kayla peeked out from under her hood. "Did you really expect stability from someone you met on StarMatch?"
"She said she was a Sagittarius sun with a Leo moon. I figured that meant bold and adventurous, not emotionally feral."
Luis passed by with a fistful of energy drinks, earbuds in. He gave a quick nod. That was about as social as he got before noon.
Lin came in a few minutes later, a tote bag slipping off her shoulder. Her hair was a little windblown, like she'd rushed in. She caught my eye and smiled.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey," I replied.
That was it. Just a hey. But it echoed for longer than it should've.
About an hour later, an all-staff ping hit our inboxes. Subject line: "Urgent Briefing. Room C. 10:15 a.m. Attendance Required."
Kenji popped his head over the cubicle wall. "Emergency meeting. Five minutes. You feel the dread? I feel the dread."
Kayla groaned. "If it's another team-building exercise, I'm going to fake food poisoning."
"Nope," Kenji said, pulling up the message. "Yuna sent it. And you know she hates meetings more than any of us."
By the time we got to Room C, most of the seats were already taken. There was a buzz in the air, not excitement. More like anxiety in business casual. Yuna stood at the front with a remote in hand, a company-branded slideshow ready behind her.
"Thanks for coming on short notice," she began. "I'll get straight to it. Corporate's initiating a departmental restructure. Starting next quarter, there will be some staff rotations, temporary reassignments across pods to support new initiatives and foster cross-functional synergy."
A murmur rippled through the room.
She held up her hand. "I know it's a lot. Details are still developing, but we want to be transparent early. You may be asked to work with new teams, take on unfamiliar tasks, and relocate desks."
Kenji leaned over and whispered, "Translation: no one knows what's going on, so pretend it's 'growth.'"
I didn't respond. My stomach was already tight.
She clicked to the next slide. A flowchart appeared. Tasks. Pods. Names. I scanned it fast, looking for mine.
Not listed under my current team.
Back at our desks, the team chat exploded. Memes, theories, someone dropped a "This Is Fine" GIF within seconds. But I noticed Lin hadn't typed a word. I glanced over. She was staring at her screen, chewing the edge of her thumb.
That wasn't like her. Usually she had this quiet rhythm, never rushed, never rattled. But now, she looked... stuck.
I got up and wandered over under the pretense of refilling my water bottle.
"You okay?" I asked, low enough that only she could hear.
She exhaled through her nose. "Not really. I finally found my footing here. Now it's like the floor's shifting again."
"I get it. I mean, if they send you to metrics, I'm filing a workplace complaint. Like a really strongly worded one."
She gave a small laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "They already sent the email. I'm moving to metrics. Starting Monday."
I blinked. She sat right in front of me. That small distance made a difference. Now she'd be on another floor entirely.
I tried to lighten the mood. "You're owed hazard pay. And a cactus for moral support."
"A cactus, huh?"
"Yeah. Low maintenance. Spiky, but resilient. It's on brand."
This time she actually smiled, a real one. "That's weirdly sweet. I'll take it."
During lunch, we gathered on the rooftop. Kenji was scrolling through his phone, frowning.
"She texted again," he muttered.
"Sapphire?" Luis asked, popping open a soda.
Kenji read aloud: "'My dreams say we're soulbound. Are you emotionally open to reconciliation?'"
Kayla spat out her soda. "Bro. That's either a cult invitation or a dating show application."
Kenji groaned. "I just want a normal relationship. One that doesn't come with spirit guides or moon rituals."
"Then ghost her," Luis said.
Kenji sighed. "I told her I liked her vibe... back before I realized 'vibe' meant full moon spell circles."
After a few moments of typing and deleting, he finally hit send: Hey, I don't think we're aligned. Spiritually or otherwise. Wishing you clarity and good energy.
Kayla stared at him. "That was surprisingly... respectful."
"Yeah," Kenji muttered. "It still feels like I should sage my phone afterwards."
Later that afternoon, my own email came.
TEMPORARY ROTATION NOTICE.
Starting next week. Three days a week. Different pod. Different floor. No Lin.
I wasn't expecting it to bother me. But it did.
I wasn't expecting to feel anything, but I did. Not anger, not exactly sadness... just a hollow sort of weight. Like I'd almost reached something and it was slipping away again.
The office emptied out slowly, people leaving in clusters. I lingered at my desk, pretending to sort files. Lin was still at hers, packing at half speed.
Eventually, she looked over. "Got your reassignment too?"
"Yeah. UI testing. Lucky me."
She winced. "That's... brutal."
"If we both disappear, they'll forget we ever existed."
She chuckled. "Nah. I'll still remember you."
That line stuck. I wasn't sure what to say.
I reached for something dumb, something to break the tension.
"So... Do you, uh, want to get a bite to eat sometime?"
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted everything. It felt abrupt, awkward, weirdly timed.
She blinked at me. Then she laughed. Not mean. Just surprised.
"You're a little awkward, you know that?"
"Yeah. It's kind of my thing."
She slung her bag over her shoulder and smiled. "Dinner sounds nice. Let me know when."
She picked up her bag and gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. Warm, maybe. Amused.
"I'll see you tomorrow, UI guy."
"Yeah. See you."
That night, I lay in bed with the glow of my phone lighting up the ceiling. I read the reassignment email again. Still the same. Still moving.
Her words kept replaying in my head: I'll still remember you.
I wasn't sure what that meant.
But I wanted to find out.