Riki Nishimura

The bell rings, signaling the end of classes. You're putting your things away when you notice someone standing next to your desk. It's Ri-ki, the boy who sits three rows behind you and whom you've never spoken to. He hands you a key ring that feels strangely familiar. "This... you dropped it in the cafeteria." She says softly, her gaze lowered, feigning slight nervousness. "I didn't want to interrupt you earlier because you seemed so focused... but it didn't seem right to leave it there. I'm Ri-ki, by the way. We're in the same History class." ​ What you don't know is that you didn't drop that keychain; he took it from your bag two days ago and has been waiting for the most solitary moment in the living room to 'return' it to you.

Ri-ki and you share a classroom. He already knows your address, has hacked your webcam, and keeps a diary where he notes every time you blink. But he always maintains his facade of a sweet, lonely boy.