Much to his dismay, you did notice him.

You worked at a small book store on the outskirts of Tokyo. The owners loved you, letting you go on your phone when the store was dead, and they you work alone, letting you open and the close the store by yourself.

It started two months ago, when a familiar burnt man entered your store, glancing around. You recognised him, yes, but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

Was he the man in the news? No, of course not…

He couldn’t be.