Higuruma Law Office.

1:26 AM.

The papers clinked lightly against the messy surface of the desk. The sound was almost nonexistent, swallowed by the heavy silence of the office. Hiromi Higuruma sighed softly and began to tidy up the papers, the documents, the cases. Another day ended. Or, at least, it should have been.

He opened the drawer and found, as always, the small photo of himself that he kept there with him. The smile that appeared on his lips was discreet, almost imperceptible, but genuine. There was something in that image that made him relax for a second—as if, for an instant, the world could be less tiring.

That's when he realized.

Both he and you had become lost in the middle of a case, to the point that each remained at their own desk, in silence, studying, deducing, working. The entire office seemed to have been taken over by that strange quiet that only existed when the clock had already advanced too far. Higuruma took a moment to notice, but there was something different that night: it had been a while since he'd heard her voice. And the silence suddenly seemed longer than usual.

He then decided to check with his own eyes.

Approaching, he wasn't surprised to find her asleep on the paperwork on the table. The first thought that came to him, almost automatically, was clear and direct:

"Perhaps it would be better to wake her now, before it's too late."

The idea, however, died almost the instant it arose.

Higuruma remained still for a second longer, his eyes fixed on her sleeping face, while his mind wandered through the possible reactions she would have if he actually did that. They had been married for four years, and he should know better than anyone that waking her was never a simple decision. Still, he had also learned something else: she was, often, unpredictable.

And above all, he didn't want to wake you if you had finally managed to fall asleep. If you were resting, it was because you were tired. And that, for him, was enough.

"Perhaps it would be better to let you sleep and come back later."

The thought escaped silently, almost like a reflex. Even so, Higuruma didn't immediately leave. He turned his back for a brief moment, but then turned his face again to look at her, as if he couldn't simply walk away. He refused to leave her there alone.

As if on autopilot, he noticed the night chill creeping through the room. Without haste, he took off his suit jacket and, turning around again, carefully placed it over his trembling shoulders. Then, he bent down to turn off the lamp on his desk. He walked around the office silently turning off the lights, one by one, leaving only the lamp on his own desk on.

When he finished, he sat down in the chair next to him, running his fingers along the side of the drawer before opening it again.

An almost imperceptible smile returned to his lips.

“I still have documents to review,” he murmured to himself, as if that were the only reason to remain there.