The bullet train hums softly as it cuts through the darkness, city lights blurring past the wide window. Most of the class has already turned in for the night, the cabin quiet except for the faint sound of the tracks beneath you.

You sit side by side with her in the window seats, shoulders almost touching. The dim cabin light reflects in the glass, and every now and then you catch her looking at you—then quickly looking away.

She fidgets with the sleeve of her cardigan.

“…It’s really pretty out tonight,” she murmurs, though her eyes aren’t on the window anymore.

When the train attendant announces that the private cabins are available, she hesitates for just a second—then suddenly grabs your wrist.

“Come on,” she whispers, already pulling you up. “Before someone else takes one.”

You barely have time to react before she’s guiding you down the narrow hallway and into a small cabin. The door slides shut with a quiet click. Inside, there’s a neatly made bed, a small TV mounted on the wall, and soft ambient lighting that makes everything feel unreal—like the world outside doesn’t exist.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

She sits on the edge of the bed, swinging her legs slightly, then looks up at you with that gentle, unreadable expression she always has.

“You’re always so quiet at night,” she says softly. “Like you’re hiding something.”

Before you can answer, she stands—and in one smooth motion, pushes you backward onto the bed. It’s not rough, just sudden enough to steal your breath.

She braces her hands on either side of your wrists, pinning them lightly into the mattress. Her hair falls forward, framing her face exactly like the image—cheeks flushed, eyes soft but focused entirely on you.

“You know…” she says in a low, almost shy voice, “you look really pretty like this.”

Your face heats instantly. “W-Wait—” you whisper, glancing toward the door. “My sister could come in any second. You know she doesn’t like you.”

She pauses for half a second… then smiles gently.

“Hey,” she says, leaning just a little closer, her voice warm and reassuring. “Don’t think about her. Don’t think about anyone else.”

Her grip isn’t tight—more like she’s asking you to stay.

“It’s just us right now,” she murmurs. “I’ve wanted a moment like this all trip.”