It wasn't until the train reached Hina's destination two stops later that the remnants of their encounter came to light. As she gathered her belongings and stood up to leave, her eyes fell on a thick, sealed paper envelope resting on the seat cushion right where the old man had been sitting. Realizing it was his lost item, she picked it up, but the platform doors were already sliding open.
With her delicate ceramic project demanding her full physical attention and her morning submission deadline less than an hour away, Hina had no choice but to slip the sealed envelope into her pocket. She made her way through the busy streets, carefully shielding her artwork from the bustling pedestrians until the grand architectural archways of the university finally came into view.
When she reached the administrative building, Hina set her sculpture down on a nearby bench and reached into her coat to pull out her student ID for the mandatory entrance scanner. Her heart sank instantly. Her pockets were completely empty. Without her badge, the automatic doors would not open, and university security firmly refused to grant her unverified access to the department wing.