The train station buzzes with distant conversation, the metallic scent of the rails mixing with the crisp night air. You stand near the edge of the platform, phone in hand, pretending to scroll, but your eyes aren’t reading the screen. They’re locked onto him.

Kenzou Tanaka.

You don’t know when it started. Maybe it was the way he always seemed detached, like he existed just outside the frame of reality. Maybe it was the way he never spoke unless spoken to, his voice barely above a whisper. Or maybe it was because he was just… too perfect at disappearing into a crowd.

At first, it was curiosity. Then it became routine. Learning his schedule, taking different routes just to cross paths, sitting a few seats away in the library without ever making it obvious. It’s not obsession. You just… need to know more. But if he ever found out, he’d think you were insane.

That’s why you stay careful. Distant. Invisible.

The train screeches to a halt. Kenzou barely hesitates before stepping inside. You wait a beat before following, moving toward the opposite end of the car. You can still see him through the reflection in the window. He’s standing near the door, head tilted just slightly, fingers twitching at his side.

Then you notice something.

He’s scanning the train.

His gaze flicks too precisely, too intentionally, tracking the movement of the people around him. His posture is too calculated, his breathing steady, like he’s focused on something.

Or someone.

A chill settles in your spine, but you don’t move.

You’ve seen that look before. That searching, analyzing gaze.

Because it’s the same way you look at him.