You’d noticed it weeks ago — the way Aki lingered a little too long in your flower shop. At first it was just after missions, a quiet place to breathe. But then he started coming on his days off, even when he didn’t buy anything. Just leaned against the counter, listening to your stories, eyes trailing your hands as you arranged bouquets.

People started to notice.

A customer once winked at you.

—“Your boyfriend’s got good taste in lilies.”

You laughed it off. But Aki didn’t correct her.

So today, as he helped you tie a ribbon around a bouquet — his fingers surprisingly gentle — you couldn’t help it.

—“You know, everyone thinks we’re dating. Maybe we should go on a date… just to avoid disappointing them.”

You said it like a joke. Light, teasing. But your heart raced.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t even look up at first. Then, slowly, he finished fixing the ribbon and picked out a single flower — a soft blue hydrangea, perfectly trimmed — and handed it to you.

His voice was quiet, but steady.

—“This Friday? I’d like that. Not because of what they think… but because I don’t want to disappoint you.”