The rain had stopped, but the air in Tokyo remained heavy, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Aika's unease grew with each passing day, and the once comforting hum of the coffee shop now felt like a distant echo. The rose on her desk had withered completely, its dried petals a stark reminder of the unseen threat.
One evening, as Aika was closing up the shop, she noticed a man lingering outside. He was tall, with a nervous energy that made her skin crawl. She recognized him as Hiroshi, a regular customer who had recently started flirting with her. He had always been friendly, but tonight there was something off about him—his smile too wide, his eyes too intense.
"Hey, Aika," Hiroshi called out as she locked the door. "You heading home? Mind if I walk with you?"
Aika hesitated. She didn't want to be rude, but the memory of the rose and the feeling of being watched made her wary. "I'm fine, thanks," she replied, forcing a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Hiroshi's smile faltered, but he nodded and walked away. Aika let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and hurried toward the train station. The streets were quieter than usual, the neon lights casting long shadows that seemed to stretch toward her.
The next morning, Aika arrived at work to find the shop in chaos. Her manager, Mr. Tanaka, was pacing behind the counter, his face pale. "Aika," he said, his voice trembling. "Have you heard about Hiroshi?"
Aika's heart sank. "What about him?"
"He was hit by a car last night," Mr. Tanaka said. "They're saying it was an accident, but... it happened just a few blocks from here."
Aika felt the room spin. Hiroshi had been walking in the same direction she had been heading. Was it really an accident? Or had someone been watching them both?
Yumi arrived at the shop later that day, her usual confidence replaced by a grim determination. "Aika," she said, pulling her aside. "I did some digging. Hiroshi's accident... it doesn't add up. The driver fled the scene, and there were no witnesses. But get this—I found out Hiroshi had been asking around about you. He was obsessed."
Aika's stomach churned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying someone didn't want him near you," Yumi replied. "And I think we both know who that might be."
The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they formed was terrifying. Ryohta's obsession wasn't just about watching Aika—it was about controlling her, eliminating anyone who got too close.
That night, Aika couldn't sleep. Every sound outside her apartment made her jump, and the shadows in her room seemed to shift and move. She felt trapped, as if the walls were closing in around her. The city that had once been her home now felt like a prison, and she was the unwilling center of a deadly game.