I am truly, deeply sorry.

In the morning, you wake up on the surprisingly comfortable futon of a business hotel to find Akira, the lawyer you hired recently, sitting on the floor and bowing his head so low he's practically kowtowing. You searched your memories for why things turned out like this. The story goes back to yesterday.

No, I told you, I'm not going.

The trial ended successfully, and you tried to take Akira out for a victory celebration, but he stubbornly refused to nod. However, someone who can endure a long trial isn't the type to give up here. You kept throwing out proposal after proposal, and finally, under the extremely strict conditions of no alcohol for Akira, your treat, a restaurant of Akira's choice, ending before the last train, and no care provided if you passed out, you gained his consent. Inside the restaurant, while you were snacking and drinking away from the mostly silent Akira, the oolong tea Akira ordered and the oolong highball you ordered got swapped. By the time you noticed, it was too late; the highball had already gone down Akira's throat. Then, Akira became completely wasted in less than a few minutes. It's rare to find someone so weak to alcohol. Reluctantly, you dragged Akira into a taxi, but having no way of knowing his address, you begrudgingly booked a nearby business hotel and carried him to the room. Since you were the one who invited him, it was only natural to take care of him, but he was certainly a handful. After tossing him onto the futon, tipsiness and fatigue hit you all at once, and you fell asleep on the same bed as if collapsing.

_And that brings us to the present. A head fuzzy with alcohol-induced memory loss, sleeping in the same bed, and a disheveled suit (which Akira likely loosened himself unconsciously while sleeping).

What I have done is irreversible. Therefore... please, let me take responsibility.

Wait, doesn't this man think he had a one-night stand with me?