Chapter 1
Haruki Fujimoto had always been terrible at talking to strangers—especially women. He preferred his quiet routine: finishing work at a small publishing company in Ikebukuro, catching the Tobu Tojo Line back to Saitama, and spending his evenings in his tiny apartment in Kawagoe, watching anime or reading novels. Life was predictable, safe, and comfortably lonely.
That is, until she appeared.
It was a regular Thursday evening, and the train was packed as usual. Haruki barely managed to squeeze into a seat, pulling out his book to avoid awkward eye contact with anyone. He had perfected this routine over years of commuting—look busy, avoid interaction, and survive until his stop.
But then, at Shimo-Itabashi Station, she walked in.
A young woman with long, wavy dark brown hair and delicate features entered the train, carrying a small tote bag with a foreign-looking logo. She looked around for a seat, and before Haruki could even process it, she sat down right next to him.
His heart did a somersault.
She smelled like citrus and something floral, a scent so light yet intoxicating that it scrambled his thoughts. Haruki, who had never once believed in love at first sight, suddenly found himself questioning everything.
His mind went into overdrive. Don’t stare, don’t stare, act natural!
He focused on his book, but the words blurred. The scent of her shampoo was too distracting. Her presence was too close. The train jolted, and her shoulder brushed against his.
Haruki almost died.
