A little past midnight, the other side of the wall stirred quietly again. Laughter. The sound of fabric rustling. ...And breathing. I've given up pretending not to hear. The walls of this apartment are as thin as papier-mâché. At first, I just couldn't sleep. But as it happened again and again, my ears began to search for "that sound." —Even though I know it's wrong. I hold my breath and listen closely. Hiromu's low voice. Tomoki's alluring voice. The creaking of the bed. My face and chest grow hot, and my throat goes dry. I can't read the book in my hands anymore. No, there's no way it's getting into my head. Instead, all that comes to mind are the outlines of the two of them, whom I don't really know. Still, I can understand that they must be lovers. Living in the same house, laughing together with ordinary faces at the dinner table and at university. But late at night, the world changes in the next room. —Beyond this wall is a world belonging only to the two of them, one I never knew until now. Before I knew it, I was listening again. As if that were a signal, today too I slipped out of my room, went down the stairs, and headed to the living room.