Runa stepped off the train at Akabane Station, but her heart had already left Shirogane-dai behind. The cold air of the luxury apartment. The emotionless view from the Shirogane Tower. Saya Himuro's icy gaze. For the past few days, something had been catching in Runa's heart. It was difficult even to put into words what it was. Only this — her chest ached. Her hand unconsciously touched the star-shaped scar beneath her left collarbone. As she exited the station, a familiar landscape spread before her. The faded signs of the shopping street. The sounds of a pachinko parlor open late into the night. The smell of grilled chicken. This scent — no matter how many luxury apartments she stayed in, no matter how much time passed — it connected directly to Runa's heart. Suzuran-dori Shopping Street. Approximately 300 meters long. Forty-two shops. Every single one was filled with Runa's memories. The day her mother brought her here in elementary school. The candy shop she visited with friends in middle school. Memories from high school, when her father was still alive. Everything was the same as that day. "Ah, Runa!" A high-pitched voice rang out. The moment Runa looked up, chestnut-colored medium-length hair caught the sunlight, glowing softly. It was Chisa Miyazono. "Chisa..." The instant Runa whispered her name, Chisa came running toward her with momentum. Her footsteps were light and graceful for someone twenty-three years old. Her face was filled with her usual bright smile. Her pale hazel-brown eyes were fixed on Runa. "Ru-chan, it's been so long!" With those words, a crack formed in Runa's heart. No — that wasn't right. With those words, the ice in her heart began to melt. Chisa grabbed Runa's arm and pulled her deeper into the shopping street. Their destination was already decided. "Manpuku-tei." The sign was faded, the exterior walls were old, and a noren curtain hung in the glass window. But inside this shop was everything Runa's heart needed. "Welcome. Oh, it's Miss Runa." Genta Okochi, the shop owner, looked up. Sixty-three years old. A close friend of Runa's father. Short in stature, his face sun-tanned, always wearing the same apron. But when his gaze fell on Runa, it was truly gentle. "Hello." Her voice had grown small. The habits of high society were showing themselves here too. "What's today's special?" Chisa asked with enthusiasm. She was her usual self. The type who was sociable, who could warm up any space. "Horse mackerel grilled with salt. Sound good, Miss Chisa?" "Yes!" Chisa answered while sitting down at a table. Runa sat across from her. A wooden table. Old, scarred in many places, but somehow warm. "By the way, Ru-chan. How have you been lately?" Chisa suddenly asked a heavy question. Her smile remained the same, but her eyes held a power that was truly seeing Runa. "Huh?" "I mean, you seem kind of down lately." At those words, the tension drained from Runa's shoulders. At Marusei Foods, no one cared about her. Work. Get paid. Go home. That was all. But Chisa was different. "No, it's nothing like that..." "Don't lie. I've known since way back. Whenever Ru-chan is carrying something, you always get that look on your face." Runa looked at Chisa's face. In her eyes, genuine concern was reflected. (Should I tell her about the contract marriage?) But there was a confidentiality agreement. She couldn't break that. Runa unconsciously touched the scar beneath her left collarbone. "Something... difficult happened. But... I can't talk about it." Those words were true. Runa's voice was small. Chisa stared at Runa for a while. Then she laughed softly. "Come on, don't say things like that. If you're carrying something, I'll listen." "But..." "Look, back in high school, it was the same way. Whenever Ru-chan went quiet, I'd get it out of you." At those words, Runa's chest ached. High school. The track club training camp. The day she learned her father was ill. Runa had carried it alone, telling no one. But Chisa noticed her lack of energy, and behind the gymnasium, she wiped away the tears that wet Runa's cheeks. "Do you remember that time?" Runa nodded. Tears welled up. "That time too, Ru-chan said 'I can't talk about it.' But it wasn't a secret, was it? It was 'worry.' Those kinds of things — you can talk about them with your friends." At those words, Runa's heart finally broke open. The tears wouldn't stop. On the table, Chisa squeezed Runa's hand tightly. Without saying anything. Just being there. The shop owner Okochi noticed, but said nothing. He simply plated the daily special carefully and set it on the table. The horse mackerel grilled with salt steamed gently. "Back in high school..." Chisa changed the subject. She kept talking until Runa's tears subsided. "We were running together at the track club training camp, remember? During the distance run." "Yeah..." "That's when Ru-chan caught up from behind and said, 'Chisa, wait a second.' You said you needed to use the bathroom." Runa remembered that moment. The truth was, she couldn't stop crying and just needed to get away. But Chisa had stayed by her side. She didn't run. She waited. "Do you remember what happened then? When I asked 'Did something happen?' you said 'Nothing.' And when I said 'Don't lie,' you started crying." "...I'm sorry." "What are you apologizing for? That's what I'm talking about. When I said 'Because we're friends, I don't want you to carry this alone,' do you remember that?" Those were words Chisa had truly said. Runa remembered that moment. How saved she felt in Chisa's arms. That warmth. That kindness. "How many years has it been since then? We've been working together for three years now. But Ru-chan is still carrying things alone." Chisa smiled brightly. But beneath that smile, genuine concern was visible. "Ru-chan, you've always been like this. 'I don't want to be a burden' or 'I have to handle this myself' — that's all you ever think about. But that's not how it is. Everyone needs to rely on someone sometimes." Runa carved those words into her heart. "If you're in trouble, tell me. Anytime is fine. I'll listen to anything. In exchange, please don't carry things alone." At those words, Runa's heart finally settled. The tears had stopped. Instead, a warm sensation filled her chest. What was it? Probably — safety. The two of them ate the horse mackerel grilled with salt. It was fresh from the grill, the salt perfectly balanced. The miso soup, the vegetable stew — everything was perfect. Just a simple set meal, but it filled Runa's heart more than any restaurant in Shirogane-dai ever could. "Oh, right. Work stuff. The sales department manager started saying weird things again." After that, Chisa talked about workplace complaints. Runa listened, laughing occasionally. The school festival. The time they did a performance together in high school. The time Chisa's skirt caught on something and she fell on stage. Memories that had been too painful to laugh about then had become genuinely good memories now. Runa forgot that time was passing. They left the shop in the evening. The sun had tilted westward, and the shopping street was dyed orange. "Let's come back soon. Let's make sure to spend time together properly." With those words, Chisa pulled Runa into a tight embrace. That warmth truly reached Runa's heart. "Thank you, Chisa." Runa whispered those words softly. "What are you saying? We're friends." On the path to the station, Runa parted ways with Chisa. On the train ride back, Runa looked at her smartphone. There was a message from Chisa. 'Contact me anytime ♡ I love you, Ru-chan' Runa smiled at those words. On the train heading back to Shirogane-dai, Runa's heart realized for the first time that it had been aware of something beyond Shirogane-dai. The distance between her and Shunya Shirogane. The conflict with Saya Himuro. The weight of the contract marriage. All of it felt distant now. But Runa was certain of one thing — that there was a solid support in her heart called friendship. When Runa returned to the apartment in Shirogane-dai, her face was different from usual. There was still anxiety in her expression, but a little more brightness had returned than before.