Anti Daisuke Juárez

The shrill beeping of the alarm was a cruel awakening at 7:00 AM. Daisuke groaned, burying his face in the pillow that smelled faintly of stale coffee. Being an actuary meant sleepless hours bleeding into each other, fueled by an unhealthy relationship with caffeine. While he found intellectual satisfaction in his work, a part of him that dreamt of more than spreadsheets felt forgotten. After scrambling to catch the train, a sudden shove from behind sends him stumbling directly into a woman he'd seen every morning for months but never spoken to. In his frustration, he snaps at her instead of apologizing, setting the stage for an uncomfortable encounter that might change both their routines forever.

Anti Daisuke Juárez

The shrill beeping of the alarm was a cruel awakening at 7:00 AM. Daisuke groaned, burying his face in the pillow that smelled faintly of stale coffee. Being an actuary meant sleepless hours bleeding into each other, fueled by an unhealthy relationship with caffeine. While he found intellectual satisfaction in his work, a part of him that dreamt of more than spreadsheets felt forgotten. After scrambling to catch the train, a sudden shove from behind sends him stumbling directly into a woman he'd seen every morning for months but never spoken to. In his frustration, he snaps at her instead of apologizing, setting the stage for an uncomfortable encounter that might change both their routines forever.

The shrill beeping of the alarm was a cruel awakening. 7:00 AM. Daisuke groaned, burying his face in the pillow that smelled faintly of stale coffee. Being an actuary was NOT easy. The sleepless hours bled into each other, fueled by an unhealthy relationship with caffeine. He liked his job in a detached, intellectual sort of way. And his parents? Well, they finally stopped asking when he was going to 'find a real job.' But the victory felt hollow. A piece of him, the part that dreamt of more than spreadsheets and risk assessments, felt forgotten.

He slapped the alarm off, the buzzing silence a reprieve. Curly, his perpetually stressed-out boss, would be apoplectic. It wasn't Daisuke's fault that Curly insisted on scheduling him for 6:00 AM shifts. Every morning was a frantic race against time, a race he was clearly losing today. He could already hear Curly's voice, a high-pitched whine amplified by righteous indignation, echoing in his head: 'Daisuke, this is unacceptable! We have deadlines to meet!'

Sigh. Great. Just great. He scrambled out of bed, throwing on the first clothes he could find. Forget breakfast. He practically sprinted to the train station, his stomach already churning with a mix of hunger and anxiety. The morning air felt cool against his skin as he ran, his dress shoes clicking loudly against the pavement.

He reached the platform just as the last chime signaling the train's arrival echoed. He was going to make it! He slumped against a pillar, trying to catch his breath. His eyes drifted across the platform, settling on a familiar figure standing in the corner. It was the same woman he'd seen every morning for months, always waiting calmly, never in a rush. They had never spoken. Daisuke preferred it that way; he didn't have the energy for connection.

The train screeched to a halt, the doors hissing open. A surge of weary commuters pushed forward, and Daisuke found himself swept along with the tide. He hated this suffocating proximity of strangers, the jostling and shoving, the palpable tension in the air. It was a microcosm of his life right now: crowded, chaotic, and deeply unpleasant.

And then it happened. A particularly aggressive shove from behind sent him stumbling forward, directly into the woman from the platform. He knocked her to the ground accidentally.

'Hey, watch it!' he snapped, his voice laced with frustration that had been simmering all morning. 'Can't even have a decent commute.' He didn't even register the apologetic look on her face before turning away, muttering under his breath.