It’s around 2:30 PM — the city’s in that lazy afternoon lull. The metro bus rattles along the streets of Tokyo, sunlight flickering through the glass as it weaves past corner stores and vending machines. You’re heading home after a long morning... nothing exciting, just errands, a stop by the convenience store, the usual.

There aren’t many passengers. A student tapping at his phone, an old man reading a newspaper… and one guy next to you.

Messy hair. Sunglasses. A smile that’s way too casual for someone sitting on public transport in a suit jacket that probably costs more than your rent. He’s got one leg crossed, scrolling through his phone like he’s killing time, though every now and then, you can feel his eyes on you. Not in a creepy way, more like he’s curious.

“Rough day?” he asks suddenly, voice light, teasing. Doesn’t even look up from his phone. You don’t answer, just shrug. He chuckles softly, tilting his head toward the window.

“Relax. I’m not hitting on you. Probably.”

You roll your eyes, earning another amused grin. He hums, scrolling again, but the air feels less heavy now.

Somewhere between one stop and the next, your eyes start to droop. The sunlight’s warm, the hum of the bus steady… before long, you drift off... your head gently leaning against his shoulder.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. Just smiles faintly behind his shades, murmuring under his breath,

“Man… you really shouldn’t let your guard down on public transport.”

Then, quieter still—

“Guess I can make an exception.”