She couldn't sleep. Kozue checked the clock. 2 AM. She turned off her smartphone screen and sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked up at the dark ceiling. The feel of the sheets was different from usual. Too soft. Too thick. Even after three months, she still wasn't used to it. The sheets in the Kyodo apartment had been thinner, rougher. She'd thought that was normal. After a while, Kozue stood up and went to the window. La Cresta Minami-Azabu, 18th floor. ——Tokyo spread out before her. Tokyo Tower glowed red. Rainbow Bridge arced in the distance. Around it, countless building lights flickered white and yellow, quiet and steady. Despite the late hour, the city wasn't sleeping. So many people were doing something in this night. The thought felt strange. (It's beautiful.) She thought it honestly. But something else seeped out from behind that thought. A room for 650,000 yen a month. A condominium with concierge service. A stylist arranged by Yuto. The debut party at Grand Veil Tokyo in just a few days. ——It was all within the "contract." Kozue gently stroked the back of her left hand with her right index finger. A habit when tense. She wasn't tense now, but her hand moved of its own accord. The Kyodo apartment had been 58,000 yen a month. A single six-mat room. The window looked out onto the exterior wall of the building across the way, and just a glimpse of sky. There was no night view. But standing at that window felt different from standing here now. Somehow, fundamentally different. (Back then, I was properly "myself.") She didn't think she wasn't "herself" in this place. But something was floating. Ungrounded. Like someone had dressed her in the role of contract fiancée. Her grandmother used to say it often. "Wherever you are, Kozue, be Kozue." In a gentle voice, but with a serious expression. Her grandmother had held Kozue's hand and said those words. It might have been their last conversation before she entered the facility. Back then, Kozue hadn't understood what those words meant. She'd thought it was obvious—of course Kozue was Kozue. But now, she was beginning to understand a little. No matter where you went. No matter what clothes you wore. No matter who was around you. You couldn't let go of your own core. Kozue exhaled quietly. Still gazing at the night view, she repeated that thought in her chest. --- The next morning, the aroma of coffee drifted through the dining room. Exactly 7 AM. When Kozue came out of the kitchen, Yuto had already placed two cups on the table. Dark brown hair, white shirt. Flawless as always. Kozue found herself saying "Good morning" with her voice slightly pitched higher than usual. "[gentle]Good morning," They exchanged brief greetings and sat facing each other. Two slices of toast. A fried egg. Yuto must have prepared it. Kozue was a little surprised. When had they started eating breakfast together like this every morning? she wondered vaguely. It was supposed to start as "daily life" within the contract, but somehow it had become natural. She took a sip of coffee. It was warm. A slightly deep, bitter taste lingering on her tongue. It was probably made to match Yuto's preferences, but Kozue didn't dislike it. "[serious]You were awake quite late last night," Kozue looked up. "Eh... h-how did you know?" "I saw the light in the window," Yuto said only that and quietly set down his coffee cup. His expression was calm, but there was something in his gaze—something searching, probing. (He was looking up at this room's window when he came home.) That fact caught in Kozue's chest a little. Was it consideration, or was it something else? She couldn't quite judge. "I just couldn't sleep. It's not a big reason, so..." She started to speak, then stopped. It didn't feel like the right atmosphere to say "I was remembering my grandmother's words." She still didn't know if she should tell this person something like that. "Um... please don't worry about it," Yuto said nothing. He simply took a bite of toast and narrowed his eyes slightly. That expression looked like he wanted to say something, but held back. (This person is thinking about something too.) That was all Kozue could tell. But she couldn't follow it any further. After breakfast ended and Yuto left for work, an email arrived on Kozue's phone. From: Shoichi Hinata. Subject: "Regarding this week's schedule." When she opened it, the schedule from Monday through Friday of that week was written out in detailed hourly increments. 10 AM: Confirmation of greeting etiquette with manner instructor. 12 PM: Rest period after lunch until next appointment. 2 PM: Hair and makeup rehearsal. 5 PM: Advance venue confirmation at Grand Veil Tokyo. And then the final line. "Please take care of your health. Contact me anytime if you have any questions." Kozue read that text twice. (I don't think I'm being watched, exactly.) But being managed in such detail made her feel a little suffocated. At the same time—this level of detail was definitely some kind of consideration. The schedule was arranged so Kozue wouldn't get lost, so she could move with ease. She understood that. But understanding it created a feeling that was hard to put into words. Complex. Shoichi Hinata always felt like that. Cold or kind—she couldn't say which. Kozue set her phone on the table and looked out the window. The night view from last night was gone, replaced by the clear autumn blue sky. --- Past 9 PM that night. Kozue was reading a message from Yuri on the sofa. "Don't get too nervous before the party and say something weird lol. Well, you're not that type anyway." Kozue smiled wryly and started to type a reply, but paused while holding her smartphone. (I'll probably be nervous, but...) What she'd thought in front of that night view came back to her. Wherever you are, be yourself. Her grandmother's voice. The night Tokyo. The bitter taste of coffee. Yuto's words—"I saw the light in the window." Shoichi's minute-by-minute schedule. Each of these people was directing something toward Kozue in their own way. She still didn't understand what it was. But it was definitely being directed at her. It felt real, she thought. Even if the relationship existed within the contract, what she exchanged with these people didn't feel like a lie. She finished typing her reply and stood up. She went to the window again. The night Tokyo glowed the same way it had last night. Tokyo Tower. Rainbow Bridge. Countless lights. Beyond them, if she traced the train lines, the direction of Kyodo should be there. A six-mat apartment. 58,000 yen a month. Rough sheets. The "me" in that place and the "me" here now were the same person. (I'm here as myself.) When she said it aloud, it felt a little embarrassing. But something in her chest seemed to settle into place. Like the moment her grandmother's words finally became her own. Kozue smiled softly and checked her reply to Yuri once more. "I'll be nervous, but I'll do my best." She sent just that and set her smartphone on the sofa. --- At that moment, a car was passing in front of the main entrance of La Cresta Minami-Azabu. It was Yuto, heading home from work. He told the driver, "Wait a moment," and had the car stop. It was unconscious. Before he realized it, he was looking out the window. 18th floor. Kozue's room. The light was on in the window. Last night too. Tonight as well. Yuto stared at that light for a while. Five seconds? Ten seconds? His expression was slightly different from his usual composure. Rather than thinking about something, he seemed to be feeling something—something he couldn't put a name to. That kind of face. (What is she thinking right now?) The moment he thought that, Yuto realized what he was doing. Looking up at his contract fiancée's window from inside a car. That wasn't a necessary action under the contract. Yuto turned his gaze forward. "[cold]Let's go," He said it curtly and leaned back against the seat. Had anyone seen his expression, they might have noticed he wore a slightly bitter look. But there was no one in the car. The 18th-floor window glowing in the night building continued to shine quietly, even after Yuto had driven away.