It had been two weeks since Shiho Ogawa joined the apartment. In that short time, her steady hands and sharp eyes had brought a noticeable change to Yuuta’s professional life. Clean linework, rapid turnaround, and a sharp attention to detail—she was undeniably good. But even the best assistant couldn’t erase the weight of a looming deadline.

The apartment was draped in silence. Not the peaceful kind—but the heavy, pressing stillness that made even the soft ticking of the wall clock sound unnaturally loud. The kind that reminded you you were the only one awake.

Yuuta stared at his cluttered desk: half-finished panels, tangled storyboards, and a dull ache behind his eyes. He hadn’t slept in hours.

With a sigh, he pushed away from his chair and drifted toward the kitchen, more out of habit than hunger. The fridge light flickered as he opened it—reaching for an energy drink.

That’s when he noticed her.

Sena sat at the kitchen table, cradling a mug between both hands. Her hair was tied up messily, eyes heavy with fatigue. She didn’t say anything at first—just offered a small, tired smile and motioned for him to sit down.

Yuuta took the seat beside her.

Without a word, knowing he’s going to spend the night working, she poured him a cup of coffee, sliding it across the table. The cup clinked softly on the coaster. The steam curled into the silence between them.

“Why are you still up?” Yuuta asked, his voice rough from exhaustion.

Sena didn’t look up right away. When she did, her eyes held a quiet weight.

“Because I want to be.” she said simply. Then, after a pause:

“Yuuta…” she said softly, “You’re not as alone as you think.”

He felt his breath catch— just slightly— as something inside him softened. Then gnawing tension in his chest dulled, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar quiet.

“So?” She said, “Why are you up?”

Yuuta looked away, dodging. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Sena leaned her cheek on her palm as she put down the coffee mug, “You never let anyone see you like this before.”

Yuuta looked up, brows raised, “Like what?” He questions.

“Tired…” A pause. “Human.”

He finally felt calm— not from exhaustion, but from the rare peace of simply being himself, if only for a while. He gave her a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“You remember the first time we met?” She asked. “You didn’t even look me in the eye. You said ‘Don’t touch anything unless I ask you to.’ I didn’t think I’d last for so long.”

He chucked. “So did I.”

They both sipped their drinks. The silence between them now was not awkward, but it was shared. Familiar. Something lived-in.

”You’ve changed, you know?” She said, softly.

“Maybe.” Said Yuuta as he leaned back and exhaled. “Or maybe I’m just tired of pretending to be okay.” He rubbed his temple with two fingers, eyes closed, as if the weight behind them could be pressed away.

The stillness thickened by the second until Yuuta spoke again.

“Ever feel like… no matter how good things are, you’re chasing something you can’t remember?” Yuuta asked with a soft and low voice. “I have the career, the apartment, the people around me. But there’s this…” he looks down with a puzzled look, “noise in the back of my head. Like something important's missing, and I don’t know what.”

Sena studied him. His fingers trembling just barely. She lets the moment be being a good listener waiting for him to say more and let it out, but she doesn’t say it out loud, instead puts her warm hands gently over his. Her thumb brushed the back of his hand once— just once— before resting still.

”You don’t need to remember everything right away. Just… don't try to do it all by yourself, okay?” She says as she rubs her hand over his, trying to calm him down.

Yuuta flinched slightly at the touch, but didn’t pull away.

Sena smiled faintly, and softly said, “I used to stay up like this back when my dad worked nights. I’d pretend I was reading, but I was just waiting to hear the key turn in the door.”

Yuuta looked at her to find her having a dull face as she opened up about herself. Her eyes were distant, her voice fragile. He didn’t say anything. He let her speak.

She looked back at Yuuta— softly, distantly. “I guess… I still don’t like being the only one awake…” she looks down as she adds, “and alone.”

Yuuta slid his hands over hers.

They didn’t look at each other then, but the silence said more than words.

Realising the moment was a little too much, Sena stood up suddenly, clearing her throat. She refilled both their mugs, and this time, poured a third, which she placed in front of an empty chair.

Yuuta raised an eyebrow.

”For Shiho. She always wakes up if she overworks. And guessing from the current deadlines, I’m sure she’s awake right now. Might as well have something ready.” And she goes back to sipping quietly.

After a long pause, Yuuta scoffs and says, “You’re really something, you know that?” She shrugs, sipping her coffee, “Told you. I don’t like being the only one awake.”

Suddenly, a faint thud echoed through the hallway— then footsteps.

Shiho, with sulky and tired eyes, stumbled in. Her hands were ink-stained, her eyes red. She nearly tripped. Yuuta was on his feet in an instant, steadying her.

“Shiho— what are you doing? I told you not to overwork yourself.”

“Sorry…” she mumbled. “Just wanted to… finish the draft…”

Sena stood and helped lower her into a chair. Yuuta hovered behind her, unsure if he should step in.

Sena ran her fingers gently through Shiho’s hair to smooth her. “She’s out…” she murmured, as Shiho’s head slowly slumped onto the table.

”She’s something else.” Yuuta said, watching her. “Wonder what she’s pushing herself for.”

Sena gave a faint smile. “People only work this hard when it means something to them.” She then glanced over at Yuuta, adding, “You, too.”

“I‘ll take her to bed.” Sena said as she lifted Shiho’s arm over her shoulder. As she steadied her and turned to leave, she looked back over her shoulder towards Yuuta.

“Go to bed. Don’t stay up again.”

Yuuta nodded, half hearted, he replied, “I will.”

“Liar.” She said back with a smirk, seeing through him as always. She disappeared into the hallway with Shiho leaning on her.

Yuuta sat a little longer. The coffee was still warm in his hands. The kitchen hummed with soft appliance noise. He looked at the third cup— untouched— and smiled faintly.

He closed his eyes.

And as he opened them, he looked into his cup.

Into himself.

‘I never asked her to stay. But I’m glad she did.’

—end chapter 4