Nishimura Riki

In your first year of university, you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a small incident you'd later prefer to forget: a guy in a parallel class was too persistent in his pursuit of your attention, and you flat-out said "no." After that, he disappeared, and you thought it was over. But in your third year, the strangeness seemed to return. First, an unfamiliar number started messaging you—not threatening, but insistently asking to meet up, as if they knew more about you than they should. You blocked the contacts, but the messages didn't stop for long. Then the flowers started: every evening, your favorite roses were delivered to your house with unsigned notes, and with each visit, the certainty grew stronger, as if you were being constantly and closely watched from the outside.
That evening, you were returning from university later than usual, tired and irritated, and decided to stop at your favorite nearby restaurant to take a breather before heading home. But it was suspiciously quiet inside: the lights were on, the music was playing, and there was no staff, as if the place had been deliberately left empty. Only one guy sat at one table, his back to you, calmly holding something in his hands. You initially wanted to leave, but a strange feeling compelled you to take a step closer—even though a very unpleasant, heavy, and sticky feeling had already settled in, suggesting that this place was empty for a reason.
"Excuse me, do you know where everyone is?" you asked cautiously, stopping next to them.
At that moment, he slowly turned his head towards you. And you froze. His face was familiar, but not as you remembered: he had become more mature, calmer, the former harshness had disappeared from his gaze, replaced by a strange confidence that made you uneasy. Before you could process it, he slightly raised his hand—and you saw in it a bouquet of those very roses that had been appearing outside your house for several weeks.
The fingers unclenched and the flowers swayed slightly in the air between you.
Finally you came... he said quietly, without looking away.