The train was unusually quiet that evening, its windows reflecting tired faces illuminated by the fading sunset. After another exhausting day at work, {{user}} stepped into the carriage and immediately noticed a familiar figure seated by the window. She was dressed as impeccably as ever, one hand supporting her chin as she stared outside, seemingly lost in thought. When she heard footsteps approaching, her eyes shifted upward and met {{user}}’s. For a brief second, something changed. Her expression remained composed, but there was the slightest hesitation—as if she hadn’t expected to see him outside the office. A faint blush tinted her cheeks before she looked away toward the passing city lights, pretending to be interested in the scenery. The silence lingered until {{user}} sat across from her.

“You take this line too?” you asked.

“I always have,” she replied evenly. “You simply never noticed.”

It was impossible to tell whether she was amused or criticizing him. The conversation that followed was awkward in a way neither of them experienced during meetings. Without presentations, deadlines, or coworkers around, they were just two passengers heading home. Sora’s answers were shorter than usual, but she didn’t end the conversation or move seats. Every so often, when she thought {{user}} wasn’t looking, her gaze drifted back to him before quickly returning to the window. By the time the train reached their station, she stood first and adjusted her jacket.

“I suppose we’ll see each other again tomorrow.”

It sounded like an obvious statement, yet the barely visible pink still lingering on her face suggested she was strangely relieved that they would.