Volume 1 Chapter 7 The Breaking Point
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Thursday, post-recovery.
Since it’s still an hour before the official start of the workday, the only person in the office is a member of that specific dumpster-fire¹ project team-Tanahashi. Sucks to be him, slogging away since dawn.
And naturally, I’m here too.
Returning to work and immediately catching the last train home while still recovering from an illness is brutal. I don’t even mind the overtime, really. It’s just that the commute itself has become a massive pain.
”Slop. It’s just contradictory slop… You haven’t tightened any of this up… All those years under your belt and for what? Try actually building something with a design like this for once, you hack…” I muttered.
Desks are usually clustered by team, but since my role in this ongoing disaster is just a “helper,” I’m stationed away from the others. I’m sitting almost on the exact opposite corner of the twenty-meter room.
Taking advantage of the fact that Tanahashi can’t hear me, the complaints keep leaking out.
If I wanted things to go smoothly, I’d probably move closer. But I have Toda-san’s OJT² to handle, and more importantly, the stress of being near the very people putting me through this is staggering.
To maintain distance-mentally and physically-I’ve kept myself on projects other than the dumpster fire, even if it isn’t the most rational move.
”You can’t just take the raw, unfiltered fantasies of a client who’s a total amateur and turn them into a working system… Stop letting them push you around, you idiot,” I whispered to myself.
Because of Tanahashi’s careless remarks, the client had dragged out a mountain of additional requests. The existing design-which should have been fine with a few corrections-was now back to a blank slate.
In the first place, an initial design for alignment should be kept at a bullet-point level. It’s better to show them something that actually moves as quickly as possible. Specifications are going to change every five minutes anyway. Igarashi-san didn’t look like the type of guy who had the patience for a full “Waterfall”³ cycle.
Of course, I tried to suggest that.
But the authority of bosses and seniors carries overwhelming weight in a decision-making meeting. Even when I bring up my successes on other projects, they don’t give me the time of day.
I can understand why they won’t adopt a method they don’t know. Teaching people who aren’t used to it takes time, and it’s stressful. It carries risks.
But as the person forced to go along with it, it’s unbearable.
”Hah… and what are those guys thinking, adding more people? Do they seriously think increasing the headcount finishes the job faster? They’re actual morons…”
Since this involves the company’s credibility, Tanahashi’s boss-Department Chief Sasada-was also summoned to the project. If the client brings a Department Chief to the table, the protocol is to match them with one of our own.
Then Sasada started talking about supplementing personnel with a smug look on his face. I really wish he’d stop adding to the workload while pretending to care about my health.
I tried to push back gently, mentioning that the “onboarding cost” would be too high.
”Don’t overdo it,” Sasada said, completely ignoring my point.
I just want them to leave me alone and let me do it. I’d even pick the members. The seniors’ work is inefficient and low quality. I can’t stand working with them. They’re just in the way.
Or just take me off the project. If you’re only looking at the site in terms of “heads,” it doesn’t have to be me. Use someone built for human-wave tactics⁴.
…If I actually said that, I’d be decimated from every side. I can’t say it. My social life would enter a literal ice age.
”Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”
I stopped my hands for a moment and let out a massive sigh.
I feel like my internal monologue is getting toxic. Conceited, even. But if I don’t think this way, I’m going to break down.
”I hope Toda-san and the crew get here soon…”
They are my only oasis.
However, for the past two days, we haven’t really talked, and I haven’t even replied to their LiNE messages. My brain is in “Work Mode” twenty-four-seven, so my response priority has tanked.
The two of them are probably being considerate, staying away so they don’t disturb me while I’m busy.
I’m grateful for the gesture.
But I’m lonely.
And the guilt of making them walk on eggshells around me is making it worse.
So what should I do? Even if I ask myself, I don’t have an answer. No, that’s a lie. The answer is already there. I want to maintain the status quo. If I find even a small escape route, I might just snap.
”…Fuu.”
Seeing my colleagues trickling into the office, I zip my lip and get back to work.
”Good morning!” Toda-san called out.
”Paisen, morning!” Mamiya-san added.
”Morning,” I replied.
By the time it was thirty minutes before the start of the workday, Toda-san and Mamiya-san appeared. The habit of making rookies come in this early is messed up. Morning overtime isn’t even included in our working hours. This company is trash.
”Um, Satake-san… here, if you’d like…”
Toda-san handed me a convenience store bag. Inside was some tea, a pickled plum onigiri, a salmon onigiri, and a salad chicken bar.
”Thanks. I hadn’t eaten yet, so this really helps,” I said.
”No problem…” Toda-san murmured.
”Paisen, did you already forget why you passed out last week-ssu?” Mamiya-san asked.
”Heatstroke,” I said.
”That wasn’t the only reason-ssu, was it!? Aren’t you conveniently forgetting the rest-ssu!?”
She was right. It was also malnutrition, anemia, overwork, and lack of sleep. I’m well aware my self-care has gone out the window.
But when I’m focused, I forget to eat. Honestly, I feel like my concentration is sharper when I’m hungry anyway.
”…Sorry. How much was it? I’ll pay you back,” I said.
”No, I just bought it on my own… I don’t even have the receipt…” Toda-san replied.
”Then take a thousand yen for now. Just think of the rest as a tip.”
”……Yes,” Toda-san said, taking it reluctantly.
If the positions were reversed, I’d hesitate too, but it feels wrong to let a rookie treat me.
”Would it be faster if I just handed you my whole wallet at this point…?” I wondered aloud.
”Pa-Paisen… was that a proposal!?” Mamiya-san shouted.
The thought had leaked out. Every time they go out of their way to buy me something, I end up handing over cash. I figured it would be easier… but if you stretch the logic, “here’s my wallet” does sound like a proposal. That’s a s*xual harassment case waiting to happen.
”…Sorry. That was a slip of the tongue. Forget I said anything,” I said.
”…Okay,” Toda-san whispered.
”Man up and take some responsibility, paisen!” Mamiya-san teased.
Getting married to a corporate slave like me wouldn’t exactly lead to a happy home. But if they’re just after the wallet, maybe it’s not a bad deal?
”I’m just glad-ssu. We haven’t been able to talk at all lately,” Mamiya-san said.
”…Yeah. Sorry about that.”
”Once things settle down, we’re gonna chat a lot again-ssu!”
”Right.”
”Well, we’ll stay out of your hair for now-ssu.”
”…Sorry.”
”……”
Toda-san looked like she wanted to say something else, but Mamiya-san moved to her seat to chat with other colleagues. Toda-san started reading the technical book I’d recommended.
I started eating the onigiri while digging through the minutes of past meetings.
It’s fine.
I almost lost it, but I’ve pulled myself back.
I keep telling myself that.
* * *
At 16:00 that day-
”Hey, Satake! We have a meeting! What are you doing?” Tanahashi barked.
”…Huh? What? Our schedule…”
I was in the middle of a design review when Tanahashi’s voice rang out from the floor entrance. If he was calling me, it had to be the dumpster fire.
But there shouldn’t have been a meeting scheduled for this time. It wasn’t in the calendar. No notification. Our progress reports-which had annoyingly become an every-other-day thing-weren’t until 17:00.
So what meeting was this? With who? About what? What was the agenda? Who was going to be there?
”Just get over here, now!” Tanahashi shouted.
”Right!”
In a slight panic, I ripped the cables out of my laptop and sprinted after him. We reached a conference room one floor up.
”Sorry I’m late…” I said, breathless.
”Satake, sit there,” Department Chief Sasada said, gesturing with his chin.
”Yes, sir.”
On the monitor was Department Chief Igarashi from QAZ Corporation, looking visibly displeased, along with three other guys from their Information Systems Department.
”I recall it was a request from your side to change the meeting time. Am I mistaken?” Igarashi asked.
”No, sir,” Sasada replied.
”We’re all busy. I’d like to avoid wasting time.”
”Yes. My apologies. I will ensure we are more thorough from now on,” Sasada said.
”Please do,” Igarashi replied.
Sasada bowed his head. I, the cause of the delay, bowed silently along with him.
A three-minute delay.
But late is late. The fault was ours. It wasn’t strange to bow.
”Then, without further delay, today’s agenda-” Tanahashi began.
Maybe it was because I’d run, or maybe it was something else. Smothering my shallow breathing, I opened my laptop as Tanahashi took the lead. I quietly started my transcription app and checked my calendar one more time.
There was no meeting scheduled.
I checked Tanahashi’s schedule. There it was. A three-hour meeting starting at 16:00. Organized by Tanahashi.
But I wasn’t on the invite list. That’s why it never showed up for me.
On top of that, my calendar had two other meetings starting at 16:15 and 16:30. My whole afternoon was a train wreck.
This wasn’t a scheduling error. Whether it was a failure to communicate or a failure to coordinate, the fault was clear.
No, Tanahashi was the one who came to get me. And in his voice, I didn’t hear a hint of guilt.
Wouldn’t anyone else notice? I’m a “helper,” but given my workload, I’m not exactly invisible.
Which meant…
It wasn’t a mistake. It was intentional.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, I felt the blood drain from my face.
The air conditioning suddenly felt freezing.
Even though I was sitting, I felt like I was falling.
I lost the feeling in my legs.
My vision started to blur.
I couldn’t-
I slammed my eyes shut and forced my chest out, dragging air into my lungs.
I can’t let them see.
I have no allies here.
If I yield to these people even once, I’ll never find my way back.
I told myself that, and somehow, I managed to endure.
I made a fist with my freezing hand, clenching and unclenching it, before hitting the keys.
===
[Hida Manufacturing: Inventory System @ 3rd Party Meeting] general
Satake: @hear
Sorry, something else came up.
Please run the progress report without me.
Please leave a message if there’s anything.
Mizuhara: Understood.
Shibata: OK ssu.
Toda: Understood.
===
===
[Direct Marketing Phase 2] Management Aretha Non-Life Insurance-sama]
Satake-san: @Sonobe @Ogura
Sorry, another meeting cropped up. Please post today’s progress reports here.
Ogura: My portion is done. Had other tasks, so I haven’t started on the next batch.
Sonobe: I’ve only got one left, so I’ll be finished by the end of the day.
===
===
[DM] Toda-san
Satake-san: If I’m not back by 5:55 PM, please leave the OJT⁵ report in the left drawer of my desk. I’ll check it later.
Toda-san: Understood.
Toda-san: Also, there was a call from Itagaki-sama at NT Komuro. They’d like a callback.
Satake-san: Got it. Thanks.
===
The plans I’d juggled were canceled. My daily window for sanity had completely vanished.
I wanted to let out a massive, bone-weary sigh, but I was trapped in a meeting, so I couldn’t even do that.
I focused entirely on turning my mind into a total void.
In the end, the meeting – with only one break – dragged on until 7:30 PM. The agenda was a grueling, line-by-line confirmation of every single newly drafted function, followed by the biennial progress report.
Why had I forgotten a meeting that sounded so vital?
No, I hadn’t forgotten. Friday’s schedule had just been shoved forward.
The cause… was probably me. Because I’d finished prepping the materials first thing this morning.
”Communicate properly, for God’s sake,” I muttered to myself. “Report, Contact, Consult” – the “hou-ren-sou”⁶ basics of being a functional adult.
But when I thought about how I’d physically isolated myself from them, how I’d let communication rot, I knew I didn’t have a leg to stand on.
It was a waste of breath to argue with such pathetic people about things that were already dead and buried. My only choice was to shut up.
Well, my seniors and I are all only human. You can’t do a perfect job. Whether it’s an accident, a fuck-up, or a deliberate move, mistakes happen. You won’t last if you bleed over every little thing.
I was the one projecting a clear wall of rejection, so it wasn’t surprising to get a hit back.
They just swung a little harder. A “don’t get c**ky, kid” kind of move.
”Dammit… Haaa…”
Returning to my desk, I let out a sigh I’d lost count of hours ago.
I called Itagaki-sama back and set a meeting for tomorrow. Grumbling that it didn’t really need to be a phone call, I pulled Toda-san’s OJT report from the drawer.
Even if it’s just to milk the government subsidies, it’s a lot to ask of a rookie to write these every day.
I told her she could just jot down a few words for the “Reflections” section, but she’d filled the entire column. Things she’d discovered today, her own flaws, where she’d hit a wall, what she wanted to do better next time…
If you stay that earnest, you won’t survive this place.
I once knew a fool like that – someone who mistakenly thought they were special, someone arrogant enough to think they didn’t have to be like the rest of the garbage.
In the end, you lose to the “average” people you looked down on – the ones who’ve done nothing but age, grow thick-skinned, and get better at talking.
Responsibility is for dodging.
Work is for dumping.
Men are for using up.
Women are for managing men.
The systems we build can just be cardboard facades.
It’s not like the clients would understand the code anyway.
As long as you look like you’re working, it’s fine.
Subcontractors keep things cheap.
Once it’s delivered, it’s over.
As long as the checks clear, this company keeps spinning.
The survivors are the ones who can look away from these facts, the ones who accept them as the status quo, or the ones too dim to ever notice.
Toda-san… maybe if she’s that third type, she’ll make it.
I reread the report more times than necessary, checking the content, and pressed my seal of approval as the OJT supervisor.
”Wait… ah… no…”
Something dripped. The ink on the report began to bleed. I frantically pressed a tissue against it to soak up the moisture, but it wouldn’t go back.
”What… is… this…?”
Defying my will, they just kept falling.
I thought I was still okay.
Because I’d been okay until now.
But I guess I’ve hit the wall.
I’m not the one holding this company up.
I’m not the one feeding these employees.
This isn’t a place for me to push my own self-righteous ideals.
Earning a living isn’t built on pretty words.
And yet, I tried to protect myself.
I tried to protect the people I’d actually started to care about.
I thought I was handling it.
But once it started to crack, it was terrifyingly fragile.
I can’t keep up the act of being “right” anymore. My pride is gone.
Everything I was clinging to has vanished.
I have nothing left to say for myself.
”Ngh… huff…”
I propped my elbows on the desk, buried my face in my hands, and strangled my voice.
I’m glad this project was going well.
I’m glad everyone near my desk had already left.
I’m glad my seat was in the corner of the floor.
From a distance, it probably just looked like I was deep in thought, head in hands.
I’m glad Toda-san and Mamiya-san weren’t here.
I’m glad they didn’t have to see me looking this pathetic…
And the next day –
I never showed up.
—
Summary:
Satake struggles to keep himself together while working early morning hours on a failing IT project. A brief interaction with Toda-san and Mamiya-san gives him a short moment to breathe, but it doesn’t last long—he’s suddenly pulled into a meeting he was never invited to. Realizing Tanahashi likely set him up, Satake becomes overwhelmed and experiences a minor dissociative panic attack in the conference room.
The pressure doesn’t ease after that. Still shaken and exhausted from hours of nonstop work, he returns to his desk and starts reviewing a rookie’s OJT report. The sincerity in it contrasts too sharply with his own state, cracking the composure he was barely holding onto. At that point, he fully breaks down mentally, and not long after, he disappears from work.
—
Trivia:
- Satake is technically a ‘helper’ from another department/project, not a permanent member of Tanahashi’s team.
- Morning overtime is unpaid and socially mandated in this company.
- The meeting time was changed by his own company, yet he was the only one not informed.
- Satake’s health issues (malnutrition/anemia) are recurring plot points from previous chapters.
- The meeting was actually supposed to be on Friday but was moved up because Satake was too efficient in the morning.
- The ‘OJT reports’ are tied to government subsidies, making them a bureaucratic necessity for the company.
- Satake purposefully sits in the corner of the office to isolate himself.
- He used to be like Toda (earnest) but was ‘broken’ by the corporate reality.
—
Character Insight:
Satake is teetering on the edge of burnout, evidenced by his toxic internal monologue. His motive for staying in the ‘dumpster fire’ is a mix of professional obligation and fear of social isolation, though his loyalty to the rookies acts as his only emotional anchor.
Satake’s arc in this chapter shows the total erosion of his ‘professional armor.’ He transitions from intellectual cynicism (the void) to uncontrollable physical grief. His disappearance suggests he has reached a ‘point of no return’ where his pride can no longer sustain his role.
—
Behind the Scenes:
The author uses specific industry jargon (Waterfall, Onboarding, Headcount) to ground the ‘Black Company’ setting in realism, contrasting the isekai-like fulfillment usually expected in the genre.
The use of ‘hou-ren-sou’ highlights the rigid communication structure in Japanese offices that Satake ironically fails at due to his self-imposed isolation.
—
TL Notes:
Notes:
• Tanahashi – A well-dressed section chief who always looks neat but feels distant, often avoiding eye contact and giving a thin, fake smile. He is Satake’s boss and often pushes work onto others while ignoring technical limits. He talks his way out of problems and acts a bit cold and condescending, especially during meetings, and is known for favoring certain female staff.
• Igarashi – Department Chief at QAZ Corporation. The client representative; extremely displeased with the project’s progress. Described as terrifying and foul-tempered.
• Sasada – Department Chief (Buchou). Tanahashi’s boss. Prioritizes corporate appearance and headcount over developer well-being. Department Chief at the company. Oversees Satake’s resignation process. Department Manager (Buchou) at FECS. A veteran with over thirty years in the industry.
• Satake – The protag. Tall and lean in a rumpled suit, with faint stubble, tired dark eyes shadowed by deep circles, and a perpetually composed expression, he carries the quiet wear of overwork in every line of his posture. A 28-year-old software engineer and OJT mentor, he is “Paisen” to Toda and Mamiya, the unseen “Satake Wall” shielding them from burnout. Beneath his poker face lies dry cynicism and a self-mocking “ojisan” complex, shaped by years of isolation, relentless duty, and a life lived at his desk, now culminating in a hospital stay born of exhaustion.
• Mizuhara – Employee involved in the group message coordination.
• Ogura – Employee working on the Aretha Non-Life Insurance project. Female senior employee, ten years older than Satake. Highly skilled technically but holds no management title.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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