REACHING BEYOND THE NET

A Mistake At Work

The morning light streaming through the tall windows of the studio felt like knives slicing into my brain. My head was pounding, a dull, relentless throb that refused to go away no matter how much water I drank or how many painkillers I took. The hangover from the night before was a punishment I couldn't escape, and the steady hum of the sewing machines only made it worse.

I tried to focus on the task in front of me—taking measurements for a new line of suits that Asahi wanted to debut before the Olympics—but the numbers kept blurring together, slipping through my fingers like water. I couldn't concentrate, and every small mistake felt like a monumental failure.

It didn't help that the studio was unusually chaotic today. People were rushing back and forth, fabric swatches flying, and the phone ringing off the hook. I was used to the controlled chaos of the fashion world, but today it felt like the noise was amplified, each sound echoing painfully in my head.

"Shoyo, are you okay?" One of my colleagues, a soft-spoken designer named Kana, asked as she passed by with a bundle of fabric.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled, forcing a smile. "Just a little tired."

She gave me a concerned look but didn't press the issue. I appreciated it—I wasn't in the mood to explain why I felt like my head was going to explode.

As I bent over the measuring tape again, trying to get the numbers right, a sudden burst of laughter erupted from the front of the studio. I winced at the noise, my headache flaring up again. I wasn't sure what was going on, but it was loud enough to grab my attention.

"Hey! Where's Asahi?" a voice shouted, cutting through the noise like a knife. The voice was high-pitched, almost shrill, and it made my teeth grind together in irritation.

I glanced up, trying to locate the source of the disruption, and spotted a short, energetic man standing near the entrance. He was waving his arms animatedly, his voice booming despite his small stature. He had spiky black hair and a wide grin, and he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was disturbing everyone around him.

"Excuse me," I called out, trying to keep my voice steady despite the throbbing in my head. "Could you please keep it down? We're trying to work here."

The man turned to look at me, his grin not fading in the slightest. "Sorry, am I being too loud? My bad, I get excited sometimes!"

I tried to muster up some patience, but the hangover had worn it thin. "Yes, you're being too loud," I snapped, more harshly than I intended. "Some of us are trying to concentrate."

The man blinked at me, his grin faltering for a moment before he let out a loud laugh. "Wow, you're really cranky today, huh? Didn't get your coffee this morning?"

I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my temper in check. "Just... please, keep it down."

He waved me off, turning his attention back to the receptionist, who was trying to find Asahi. But his voice continued to boom through the studio, as if he couldn't help himself. I could feel the tension building in my chest, the frustration bubbling over.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Hey!" I called out again, louder this time. "If you can't keep it down, maybe you should wait outside until Asahi is available."

The man turned to me again, his grin now replaced with a frown. "What's your problem, dude? I'm just here to see Asahi, no need to be such a jerk about it."

"I'm not being a jerk," I retorted, though I could hear the defensiveness in my own voice. "I'm just asking you to be considerate of the people working here."

Before he could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension. "Noya? What are you doing here?"

I turned to see Asahi walking toward us, his usual calm demeanor tinged with surprise. He looked from me to the man—Noya, apparently—and back again, as if trying to figure out what was going on.

"I came to see you, of course!" Noya replied, his grin returning full force. "You said you'd take me out to lunch today, remember?"

Asahi's eyes widened slightly, and he shot me a quick, apologetic glance before turning back to Noya. "Oh, right. I completely forgot. I've been swamped with work..."

Noya waved it off. "No worries, I know you're busy. But this guy," he gestured toward me, "isn't very friendly."

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Wait... you know each other?"

Asahi nodded, his expression turning a bit awkward. "Shoyo, this is Noya... my boyfriend."

I froze, the realization hitting me like a bucket of cold water. Noya. Asahi's boyfriend. The guy I had just lashed out at without thinking.

"Oh," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

Noya's grin softened into something more understanding. "Hey, no hard feelings. I know I can be a bit much sometimes."

Asahi gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's okay, Shoyo. I know today's been rough."

I nodded, feeling the weight of my own embarrassment settling on my shoulders. The hangover, the frustration, the noise—it had all gotten to me, and I'd taken it out on the wrong person.

"Let's get you some coffee," Asahi said, gently guiding Noya away from the work area. "And Shoyo, take a break, okay? You look like you need it."

I nodded again, too embarrassed to say much more. As they walked away, I sank back into my chair, rubbing my temples in an attempt to ease the headache that had only gotten worse. The morning had been a disaster, and it was all my fault.

I needed to pull myself together, to stop letting my emotions control me. But as I sat there, alone in the busy studio, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing control of more than just my temper.