One day, after coming home from work, I found a group of housewives from the same apartment building gathered for a moms' meeting. Among them, one woman stood out more than any other—Hitomi Honda, a married neighbor who had recently moved in. Days passed, and I couldn't get her out of my mind, whether asleep or awake. Later, I found Hitomi drunk and passed out in the hallway after being pressured to drink at the moms' gathering. Her peaceful sleeping figure looked like a dream. Unable to resist my overwhelming desire, I couldn't help but press my lips against hers. From that moment, her existence was permanently etched into my world.