The music flowing through Timeo's headphones pulsed with steady urgency—a sharp fusion of heavy percussion, distorted basslines, and dramatic strings, building into a tense yet energizing rhythm. It gave him the feeling of moving forward through chaos, one purposeful step at a time. Every beat echoed like a countdown. Every note sharpened his focus.
The walk to the underground station passed without much incident. Having learned from his miscalculation the day before, Timeo made sure to position himself right by the train's door before the platform filled up. The memory of being crammed and stuck against the wall wasn't one he was eager to relive.
As the train came to a screeching halt, the crowd surged forward. Timeo stepped in early and claimed a stable spot by the door just before the wave behind him flooded in.
"Come on… This is ridiculous..." came a frustrated voice from nearby.
Timeo caught it clearly through the fading beat in his headphones. He turned slightly—and saw her.
It was Marin.
Her buttermilk yellow hair, slightly tousled from the crowd, shimmered faintly in the dull train light. Her arctic blue eyes, usually bright and filled with warmth, now flickered with discomfort. She stood pressed near the center of the car, caught in the crush of passengers. Her schoolbag was clutched tightly to her chest as she tried not to bump into anyone.
The people around her weren't kind.
"She's squeezing in like she owns the place…"
"Some high school girl playing dress-up again. Tch."
"Pretty face or not, she's in the way."
"Maybe she wants the attention. Bet she loves it."
The words came sharp and low, but Marin heard them. Her eyes widened a bit, mouth tightening as she tried to turn her face away—her usual cheerful composure cracking under the weight of the murmurs. She took a small step back, but there was nowhere to go.
The words came sharp and low, but Marin heard them. Her eyes widened a bit, mouth tightening as she tried to turn her face away—her usual cheerful composure cracking under the weight of the murmurs. She took a small step back, but there was nowhere to go.
"I… I just wanted to get to school like everyone else," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible, yet aching with frustration.
Timeo's grip on the rail tightened. The music still pulsed faintly in his ears, but his focus had shifted entirely.
This wasn't just a crowded train anymore.
It was a scene that demanded a choice.
And he was already moving.
Without saying a word, Timeo pushed past a middle-aged man who had muttered one of the harsher remarks under his breath. The man stumbled slightly, more in surprise than harm, as Timeo made his way into the thick of the crowd.
He reached out, gently but firmly taking hold of Marin's arm and guiding her toward him.
She blinked in surprise as she felt the pressure ease—then realized who it was.
Timeo positioned her beside him, shielding her from the pressure of the crowd with his body as he resumed his place near the door.
The murmurs faded, replaced by awkward silence.
Marin looked up at him, eyes wide, still slightly out of breath. She didn't say anything right away.
But the look she gave him said plenty.
Marin looked up at him, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her hand still gripped the strap of her bag, knuckles pale from how tightly she'd been holding it.
She gave him a small, shaky smile.
"…I'm really glad it was you who pulled me out of there," she said softly, her voice just loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the train. "For a second, I panicked. I thought it was— I don't know—some random creep trying to pull me closer."
Her cheeks flushed lightly with embarrassment as she looked away for a second, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
"But… it was you, geez." she added, glancing up again. "So… thank you, Timeo. Really."
Her words carried more than just politeness—there was genuine relief in them. A kind of quiet gratitude only someone who had felt small and cornered could express with so few words.
Timeo, as always, didn't say much. He gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable but steady. He didn't need to say anything.
Just being there had been enough.
Timeo stood quietly beside Marin, his eyes watching her for a moment longer than necessary. The train car around them hadn't settled—passengers still muttered under their breath, some arguing about space, others sighing loudly with impatience. The tension lingered in the air like humidity—thick, uncomfortable, and hard to ignore.
Marin drew in a deep breath, her brows furrowed slightly as she glanced around at the mess of flustered adults and commuters.
"Geez," she muttered, keeping her voice light despite the stress in her shoulders, "won't these grown-ups ever learn how to be patient? It's like they're one shove away from a full-on brawl."
She hugged her schoolbag a little tighter to her chest, fingers clenched around the strap. Clearly, she didn't want to risk anything—whether it was getting pushed around or someone trying to take advantage of the crowd.
After a moment, she glanced at him again, her voice softening.
"Sorry for causing trouble. Really… I'm just glad you were here. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't pulled me out. It felt like I was sinking into the crowd."
Timeo adjusted the collar of his uniform and ran a hand back through his black hair, then reached up to lower the volume on his music. The sound faded to a quiet hum before he slipped the headphones down around his neck again.
"I think we've got a knack for boarding the worst cars," he said calmly, scanning the packed interior with a measured look. His gaze traveled past the hunched shoulders and bickering voices to the next car—its passengers sitting quietly, most of them calmly seated or looking out the window. "The next one over looks like it's hosting a tea party in comparison."
Marin followed his line of sight and blinked. "Wow… How do we always manage to pick the chaos train? Maybe we're cursed."
Timeo gave the faintest smirk. "Either that, or we're magnets for bad timing."
"I vote we blame fate," Marin said with a small laugh. "It's more dramatic that way."
Timeo leaned slightly against the railing behind him, keeping his stance steady as the train curved. "Next time, we check the windows before we board."
"Oh, absolutely," she nodded quickly. "I'm giving the peaceful ones a five-second head start before I even think about getting in."
A beat of silence passed between them—not awkward, but calm. Comforting, even.
Then Marin looked at him again, her tone softer, sincere beneath the lightness. "Really though… thank you again, Yamamoto. Not just for pulling me out, but for noticing. Most people wouldn't have."
Timeo didn't look at her right away, but the slight shift in his expression was enough to show he heard her.
"…Yeah," he said quietly. "Of course."
Even after their light conversation, Timeo couldn't help but notice something off about Marin. Her usual brightness felt dimmed, like a glow dulled behind glass. She laughed at the right moments and wore a smile like she always did—but it was thinner this time. More careful.
Timeo had known her long enough to tell when something didn't sit right.
It wasn't just the cramped train or the muttered insults from earlier. Marin had brushed those off with surprising grace. No—this was different. Deeper.
Still, he said nothing. He respected space the same way others respected silence. Instead, he pulled out his phone and checked the time, the screen's light briefly reflecting in his eyes.
And then Marin spoke.
"So… Yamamoto," she said suddenly, her voice softer than before. "Did you… by any chance feel anything strange last night?"
Timeo looked up from his phone, his brow faintly furrowing as he glanced toward her. There wasn't anything teasing in her voice. No playfulness. Just a question hanging heavy in the air between them.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and tilted his head slightly. "Strange like… how?"
"You know…" Marin hesitated. Her eyes flicked to the window, watching the endless tunnel blur past them. "Just… something. Like something was wrong but you couldn't explain it. A weird feeling. Something that didn't belong."
Her grip on her bag tightened as she spoke, her voice growing quieter. Her reflection in the glass looked more honest than her smile—eyes clouded with something unsaid.
Timeo studied her carefully. The way her fingers wouldn't stay still. The way she refused to meet his eyes.
"…Last night?" he finally said, his tone unreadable. "I was asleep."
It was vague. Detached. But intentional.
And it told her enough.
Marin gave a tiny nod, lips parting as if she had more to say—but nothing came out.
Then, after a heartbeat, she let out a soft, breathy laugh and turned her face fully toward the window. "Oh, is that so? I see. Well… forget it. I was just curious, hehe."
The smile she gave him was too practiced. Too quick. It came with the tone of someone trying to sound normal, trying to move on—but not because she wanted to. Because she needed to.
She didn't look at him again. Her eyes stayed locked on the window, watching shadows flicker across the tunnel walls as the train roared ahead.
And Timeo, though he didn't press, knew without asking—Marin hadn't slept well at all.
Something had happened.
She just wasn't ready to say what.
The silence between them lingered, not uncomfortable—but fragile. Marin remained still, her fingers curled around the edge of her schoolbag, and Timeo stood beside her without saying a word. The distant sound of the train rushing through the tunnel filled the air like white noise, wrapping around them both.
Then, a soft ding echoed from the overhead speakers.
"This is the express line," came a clear, polite voice through the train's radio system. "We will soon be arriving at Aokusa Station. Please prepare to disembark. Watch your step as the train comes to a complete stop."
The automated announcement pulled Marin slightly out of her thoughts. She blinked and sat up a little straighter, gently adjusting the strap on her shoulder. "That was fast," she murmured, her tone trying to sound casual again.
Timeo glanced toward the window. The dark tunnel had begun to brighten slightly as artificial platform lights came into view ahead.
"It always feels shorter when you're not being crushed," he replied, his voice even.
Marin gave a soft, amused breath. "True…"
The brakes squealed softly as the train began to slow. People shifted and murmured as the car gradually rocked to a halt, everyone preparing for the usual scramble.
Marin stood ready, her composure returning just enough to show in her posture—but her expression was still distant, tucked behind the practiced calm.
And Timeo, though he still hadn't said much, silently positioned himself between her and the crowd again—without a word.
Just in case.