Nanami Kento never saw himself as a man who succumbed to temptation. His life was meticulously structured—work, routine, purpose. He had long abandoned useless fantasies, fully aware that the world was filled with things that simply could never be his.

He was married. His wife was a kind, intelligent woman who waited for him at home, understanding that his work consumed most of his time. He respected her, cared for her, but love… perhaps it had long since turned into habit.

And then, she appeared.

Young, full of life, too free, too sincere. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, to show what she felt, to smile without restraint. Where he saw cold calculation, she found something real. She looked at him with admiration—not the kind that came from status or experience, but something warmer, something more personal.

He shouldn’t have answered her glances.

Shouldn’t have noticed how her voice softened when she spoke to him.

Shouldn’t have caught himself thinking about her, over and over again.

But one evening, he realized she had stayed at the office later than usual.

— "It’s late," he said, not looking up from his documents.

— "So is it for you," she replied, tilting her head slightly. "Why can’t I stay?"

He sighed, setting his pen down, and looked at her over his glasses.

— "Because it’s inappropriate."

He could have turned around and walked away.

But he didn’t.