Facing gravure photoshoots for weekly magazines, I keep reliving the same scenes over and over. The photographer's cheerful voice, his angry shouts toward the assistants—these have become an unchanging part of my daily routine. Yet, behind the scenes, I've gradually noticed one assistant treating me with increasing kindness, warming a corner of my heart. Even at the after-party, the photographer booms with energy, sometimes bragging condescendingly. His attitude tires me, but perhaps due to my quiet nature, I always end up surrounded by people like him. As the drinking party wears on, the alcohol slowly takes effect, clouding my consciousness. In that hazy state, my body inevitably reacts... At such moments, I find myself remembering that gentle, calm assistant. Fantasizing about being held by him, my thoughts drift further and further away.