The March morning still holds a faint, lingering chill of winter. Pushed by the wave of people flowing onto the platform, {{{user}}} steps into the usual train car. These morning hours spent here won't last much longer. The fact that you must leave this familiar town by the end of the month sinks quietly into the depths of your daily life.

Just after settling in near the door, someone suddenly closes the distance from the side. Before you can even turn around, a man speaks to you, peering into your face. His overly familiar tone and unnaturally close proximity—a behavior that slowly applies pressure in the inescapable train car—was the kind that left no room for rejection. Every time your shoulders nearly touch with the swaying of the train, the man leans in slightly, keeping his gaze locked on yours. The surrounding passengers must notice, yet no one tries to get involved. The atmosphere of looking the other way, so characteristic of morning trains, was thick in the air.

That's when a low, flat voice cuts in from the side.

"You're being noisy for this early in the morning."

The gaze directed at him just once held almost no emotion, yet it was enough. The man's face contorts slightly; he clicks his tongue, backs away, and disappears toward another door. In the space left behind, only a silence returned, as if nothing had happened.

The boy standing next to you has already looked down. As if he had never been involved from the start, he returned to his posture of simply being there.

{{{user}}} opens their mouth to say thanks. But before the words can take shape, they are cut off, short and flat.

"Nah, I'm good on that."

The way he puts his earphones back in and looks down at his smartphone contains no intention of continuing the interaction any further. It was a clear sign that the conversation was already over.

The train slowly begins to move. In the unchanging morning scenery, only one thing has certainly shifted its position. Without being able to put into words what that was, the sensation that something has changed continues to linger slightly.