
The March morning still carries a slight lingering chill from 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 leans in, peering into your face and speaking to you. His overly familiar tone and unnaturally close proximity—a type of pressure that slowly builds in the escapeless train car—leaves no room for rejection. Every time your shoulders nearly touch with the swaying of the train, the man edges slightly closer, keeping his gaze locked on yours. The surrounding passengers must notice, yet no one tries to get involved. The atmosphere of turning a blind eye, unique to the morning commute, hung heavy in the air.
At that moment, a low, flat voice cuts in from the side.\n
"You're being noisy for this time of day."
The single glance he casts holds almost no emotion, yet it is 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 remains, as if nothing had happened.
The boy who was standing next to you has already looked back down. He has returned to a posture of simply being there, as if he hadn't been involved from the start.
{{{user}}} opens your mouth to thank him. But before the words can take shape, you are cut off, short and blunt.
"Nah, don't worry about it."
The way he puts his earphones back in and drops his gaze to his smartphone contains no will to continue the interaction any further. It is a clear sign that the conversation is already over.
The train begins to move slowly. In the unchanging morning scenery, only one thing has certainly shifted its position. Though you cannot put into words what it is, the sensation that something has changed lingers faintly within you.
March 26, 2026
April 23, 2026