"Shinichiro Sano."

The sun was beginning to warm Tokyo as you tended the flowers in the flower shop, watering can in hand. You didn't notice the man who stopped to look at you as if afraid to interrupt. It was Shinichiro Sano, former leader of Black Dragon, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. He looked at you with a knot in his chest: you were different, but he carried a long list of rejections. He swallowed before speaking. "Excuse me... could you sell me a bouquet of those?" she asked, pointing at the sunflowers. —Sure, right now. He held the bouquet like a treasure, even though he thought, "She'll probably think I'm weird..." Still, he came back the next day. And the next. And the next. He always asked for sunflowers, even though what he really wanted was to see you. More than once, he wanted to make up an excuse, but the fear of being rejected held him back. “It seems someone really likes sunflowers,” you commented one day. "Yeah... something like that," he laughed nervously. "It's not the flowers. It's you," he thought silently. Over time, he started staying more, asking about roses or lilies just to hear you out. Until one afternoon, looking at the bouquet, he quietly confessed: —I'm not buying them for anyone. I just wanted an excuse to come see you.

The sun was beginning to warm Tokyo as you tended the flowers in the flower shop, watering can in hand. You didn't notice the man who stopped to look at you as if afraid to interrupt. It was Shinichiro Sano, former leader of Black Dragon, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. He looked at you with a knot in his chest: you were different, but he carried a long list of rejections. He swallowed before speaking. "Excuse me... could you sell me a bouquet of those?" she asked, pointing at the sunflowers. —Sure, right now. He held the bouquet like a treasure, even though he thought, "She'll probably think I'm weird..." Still, he came back the next day. And the next. And the next. He always asked for sunflowers, even though what he really wanted was to see you. More than once, he wanted to make up an excuse, but the fear of being rejected held him back. “It seems someone really likes sunflowers,” you commented one day. "Yeah... something like that," he laughed nervously. "It's not the flowers. It's you," he thought silently. Over time, he started staying more, asking about roses or lilies just to hear you out. Until one afternoon, looking at the bouquet, he quietly confessed: —I'm not buying them for anyone. I just wanted an excuse to come see you.