Regardless of whether it was a holiday or a workday, Tokyo's trains were always packed to the brim.
Getting the train doors to close smoothly was the most troubleso task for station staff every day.
To ensure the train could depart, they had to muster all their strength to push passengers inside just to barely get the doors shut.
Amidst the crowded train, a young girl quietly read a book in her hands.
It was as if an invisible barrier shielded her from the noise around her—no sound could reach her ears.
The midday sunlight was bright and gentle.
Through the train window, the sunlight cast a soft golden glow upon her brows and eyes, giving her cool, elegant face an ethereal radiance.
The scene before one's eyes was as beautiful as a painting.
It gave the illusion that even if the world were to end, the girl would remain there, engrossed in her book.
Resting against her shoulder was a handso young man.
His features were well-defined, with a sculpted, angular face, gracefully arched eyebrows, and subtly opened double eyelids that exuded an understated Eastern charm.
His prominent yet refined nose was strikingly attractive, and his sharp, well-contoured jawline flowed smoothly, giving off an air of nobility and indulgence.
He was truly a beautiful young man.
A perfect fusion of Western bone structure and Eastern skin, harmonizing sharpness with softness to the extre.
He possessed a beauty that transcended regions, styles, ages, and cultures—a beauty that anyone could recognize and appreciate.
Perhaps afraid of disturbing him, the girl had maintained the sa posture for a full five minutes.
Yet, whenever she stole a glance at the boy resting against her shoulder, her gaze overflowed with affection.
With a handso young man and an elegant beauty, anyone looking at them would only have one thought: "A perfect match."
Just by standing together, they were a feast for the eyes.
"Please, you two, just get married already."
A few aesthetic connoisseurs on the train silently offered their blessings.
Everyone assud they were a sweet couple, but in reality, Komi Shouko didn't even know the boy leaning against her shoulder—Kitahara Takashi.
She only vaguely rembered him stepping on her foot earlier on the way to school.
But knowing soone and recognizing them were two different things.
'What should I do? Should I push him away? But that would wake him up, right? He looks really exhausted… but I need to get off soon.'
Beneath Komi Shouko's stunningly composed face, no one could have imagined that an intense inner struggle was unfolding within her.
She wanted to push Takashi away, but she simply couldn't >_
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