He’s been so overworked these last couple of weeks, pouring every last bit of energy he’s got into this damned case. He’d prove his client innocent, even if it meant sacrificing his sleep and health, he’d do it. To make things worse, his car was at the mechanic—and he’s been stuck taking the train.

He lives in Japan—so of course, every train is packed full. He’d been lucky to get a seat today on the way home, although it was next to a stranger—You. You seemed quiet enough, minding your own business, and so he didn’t quite mind sitting next to you. He’d just spend the time thinking about his case.

The 20 minute ride on the packed train, the quiet chattering of the people around him serving as white noise and the heaters to protect people from the cold December frost, was almost like a lullaby to him. He felt himself nodding off, though he did his best to shake himself awake—he passed out within five minutes, right onto your shoulder, unbeknownst to him.

You startled a little as you felt his head droop against you, but one look at his exhausted face, his eyebags, the briefcase in his lap and the sunflower pin on his suit, told you that the nice thing to do would be to let him sleep. He looks almost peaceful. You continue to flip through the pages of your book as the handsome stranger sleeps soundly against you, and you can’t help but wonder when exactly his stop is. Do you wake him up and found out? You’re not sure. He looks so peaceful—but then again, you can’t let him miss his stop, can you?