The morning sun quietly illuminates the streets of Sendagi. Aoi Yuki woke from an eerie notification on his smartphone last night. Location data. Mysterious browsing records. They felt like a nightmare, but they were real. Even after showering and jolting awake with cold water, anxiety settled like sediment in the depths of his heart. Wrapped in a dark navy suit, he stares at his reflection in the mirror. He confirms the strange mark on his left wrist, then hides it under his sleeve as always. Trying not to think about last night's unease, he heads to the office at his usual time. From Sendagi Station, he takes the Chiyoda Line. In the crowded car, Yuki feels the sensation of being watched several times. But when he turns around, there are only strangers. Is it just his imagination? Or is he simply too preoccupied with last night's events? He arrives at the Sales Department II on the 9th floor of Akatsuki Tower at 8:50 AM. As he sits at his desk, a bright, cheerful voice rings out from the adjacent row—just three seats over. "Good morning, Yuki! You're early again today." He turns to see a woman with long black hair walking toward him. Amemiya Reika. They've been coworkers for six years since joining the company together. At 162 centimeters tall, she wears a white blouse and navy skirt. Her features possess undeniable beauty, and she's popular in the department. Most importantly, her smile carries no trace of malice or calculation—only warmth and genuine affection. "Morning. You're early too, Reika." Yuki responds with a gentle tone, speaking considerately. Reika stands beside his desk, clutching documents while speaking happily. "That estimate you did yesterday was so detailed and easy to understand. Even Director Toyama praised it. He said, 'Aoi's work is reliable.'" She claps her hands in delight at those words. Yuki shakes his head, slightly embarrassed. "It wasn't anything special. I think it was just the usual level of work." "No, that's not true. Yuki, you're really humble. That's why everyone relies on you." Her words carried genuine affection. Yuki doesn't mind it at all. In fact, having a coworker who praises him so sincerely is a rare blessing in the workplace. Reika smiles while gazing directly at Yuki's face, but her gaze lingers just a moment longer than necessary. As if confirming something. As if observing him. Yet no one notices that depth. Reika herself isn't aware of this habit in her gaze. "Well then, it's time for the morning meeting." Director Toyama Tetsuya—a strict 54-year-old manager—prompts the start of the meeting. Reika smiles at Yuki once more before returning to her seat. The morning is consumed by phone calls to clients and document preparation. The open floor of Sales Department II is always busy, with multiple phones ringing simultaneously and the constant sound of keyboards. In the midst of it all, Yuki methodically completes his tasks. Yet occasionally, he feels a gaze from the adjacent seat. The sensation of eyes being cast his way. Unconsciously, naturally. When noon arrives, the lunch chime sounds. Yuki heads to the 17th floor employee cafeteria, "Akatsuki Dining." This cafeteria is used by all employees and is always crowded during lunch. With about 120 seats, it's completely full from 12:00 to 12:30. Yuki orders the daily special set meal for 680 yen and sits by the window as usual. Alone, quietly, eating his meal. It was just as he cut a piece of fried chicken with his fork and sipped his miso soup. "Is this seat okay?" A soft, intimate voice. Yuki sets down his chopsticks and turns around. There stands Reika, holding a tray in both hands. Her posture is natural, as if she truly just happened to spot this seat at this very moment. "Oh, please." Yuki gestures to the seat beside him. Reika says "thank you" and sits down smoothly. Her movements are natural. Two coworkers having lunch together. Nothing unusual about this everyday scene. Yet— "I just got here too. I happened to spot you, so..." Reika's words contained a subtle lie. In reality, she already knew that Yuki came here between 12:15 and 12:20. Not through data analysis, but purely through repeated observation and confirmation. But hiding that background, she begins light conversation with Yuki. Talk about work, weekend plans, impressions of a drama she recently watched. The conversation is natural and enjoyable. Yuki responds comfortably. There's no tension between them. Just two coworkers with a good relationship, sharing a casual lunch. Yet within that conversation, there are moments when Reika's chopsticks pause. When Yuki drinks water. She watches his throat move. His skin. The contours of his face. His hands. Her gaze is careful, repeated over and over. As if reading a map. As if "memorizing" him. "You haven't been tired lately, have you?" Reika asks suddenly. Her face shows a worried expression. "Huh?" "I thought your complexion looked a bit pale. You seemed tired from this morning yesterday too." It was observation. Including yesterday, Reika had been carefully checking Yuki's condition almost daily. His expressions, skin tone, the way he walks, the tone of his voice. Everything entered her field of vision. Yuki responds with a smile. "I'm fine. It's not like I'm sleep-deprived or anything." In truth, last night's smartphone notification had made his sleep shallow. But he felt there was no need to mention that. Reika shows a slightly tense expression before speaking gently. "I see. But don't push yourself too hard, okay? If anything happens, you can always talk to me. We're coworkers, after all." Her words sound sincere. Yuki smiles gratefully. "Thank you. You're kind, Reika." Reika's cheeks flush slightly. She must be embarrassed. "That's... well, we're coworkers, so it's only natural." As she says this, her gaze drops slightly. And—that's when it happened. Reika's hand lightly touches Yuki's wrist. Just for a moment. The briefest contact. A gesture as if confirming his body temperature. "Well then, let's do our best this afternoon too." She says this while slowly withdrawing her hand. Her fingertips trace his skin as if reluctant to let go. Yuki doesn't particularly dwell on it. It's encouragement from a coworker. Nothing unusual about it. Yet within Reika's heart, the joy of "confirming" that contact fills her quietly. The two finish eating and stand up. As they leave the cafeteria, Reika walks beside Yuki at a distance barely more than touching. Their hands nearly brush. Reika finds this closeness pleasant. In the afternoon, back on the 9th floor, Yuki organizes documents at his desk. Then his phone chimes with an email notification. Looking at his smartphone, it's an email from Reika. "Thank you for your hard work. I was so happy to have lunch with you today. Let's go eat together again soon ♡" The message ends with a heart emoji. Yuki replies. "Thank you as well. I enjoyed it. Please invite me again." When Reika sees that reply, a small, pleased breath escapes from her desk. 5 PM. Yuki returns to the office from a client visit. Back on the 9th floor, Reika is still at her desk. When she notices Yuki, she waves. "Welcome back." Her smile is genuinely happy, pure, showing no trace of malice. Yuki waves back. "I'm home." That day's departure time is 6:30 PM. Yuki heads home, returning to his usual Sendagi. He arrives at his apartment, "Corpo Sendagi," at 7:27 PM. After showering, he heats up a bento box purchased from "Maruetsu Sendagi Store" and eats while watching television. There's nothing in particular he wants to watch; the TV is simply on out of habit. At 10 PM, he lies down in bed. He picks up his smartphone. LINE, email—nothing in particular to do. As he opens apps somewhat aimlessly, he suddenly remembers. Last night's eerie notification. Location data. Mysterious browsing records. At that moment, a face surfaces in Yuki's mind. Shimizu Miyu. A junior from university. A woman he reunited with at a class reunion three years ago after several years apart. Back then, she was quiet and unremarkable. Why had Shimizu Miyu been checking his location information? He doesn't even have a clear reason for noticing the traces last night. But the series of events from last night and Reika's behavior today—that distance, that gaze, that contact—seem oddly to overlap. Or is it different? Reika's behavior is natural, showing no malice. Rather, it appears to be the ordinary consideration of a coworker. "Coincidence, maybe..." Yuki murmurs. At that moment, someone stops near the vending machine in front of the apartment. In the darkness illuminated only by the night streetlight, that figure quietly gazes at Yuki's apartment window. On the smartphone screen is a location app. A map displaying the position of Corpo Sendagi, 2nd floor. While confirming those coordinates, the person quietly murmurs. "He made it home safely again today. I'm glad." That voice is a woman's voice. Long black hair glimmers in the smartphone's light. That face is unmistakably— Amemiya Reika. Like dissolving into the cold night air, that murmur fades away.