"I’m not exactly sober right now, so you two don’t need to stand on ceremony!" she teased us, her playful side on full display. To my bewilderment, Kaede didn't seem to mind at all—in fact, she looked rather pleased. Eventually, the senior passed out, completely inebriated, right there on the tatami mats. Shaking our heads at her carefree nature, we moved her into a futon and went to bed ourselves. But as it turned out, the person I had assumed was Kaede was actually the senior, who had clung to me in her sleep.

The next day, while I was washing off in the private bath, my mother-in-law suddenly appeared. It turned out she had followed me here, desperate to see me. Meanwhile, the senior had woken up and was overcome with guilt. Though she had been pushed to the brink by the hectic pace of life in Tokyo—a stark contrast to her happy university days—the fear of losing the close bonds she once cherished left her in such emotional turmoil that she burst into tears. It was Kaede who reached out to comfort her, offering solace to the vulnerability in her heart.