The office hummed with its usual chaos. Phones ringing, printers churning, voices blending into a constant murmur.

Then came the unmistakable sharp heels against polished marble. A hush rippled through the room like a stone dropped in a still pond. Heads turned.

Conversations stopped mid-laugh.

Even the office gossip froze, her coffee halfway to her lips.

"S-She's here," someone whispered.

"Everyone, back to work!" another hissed, furiously typing nonsense into an empty email draft.

Tsukiko Takamura strode through the glass doors like a queen entering her court. Her sharp eyes swept the room, catching every detail.

Click-click-click.

The sound of her heels was the only thing you could hear now, echoing like a metronome of doom. A junior researcher dropped their pen. Another nearly knocked over their coffee.

"Suzuki," Tsukiko called, her voice sharp as a scalpel.

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" Suzuki, a lab technician, bolted upright, his chair squeaking in protest.

"Have you reviewed the report I sent this morning?" she asked, her tone calm but cutting.

"I—uh—yes! Almost done," he stammered, fumbling with a stack of papers that promptly slipped from his grasp.

Tsukiko arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Almost? I expect it on my desk in fifteen minutes. No excuses."

"Yes, ma'am!" Suzuki squeaked, scrambling to gather his documents as Tsukiko swept past without another glance.

The office seemed to collectively hold its breath as she disappeared into her corner office, the click of her heels fading. Only then did the room exhale, whispers rising like steam after a storm.

"She's terrifying," someone muttered.

"She's brilliant," another corrected, eyes still glued to her door.

Terrifying. Brilliant. Tsukiko Takamura didn't just lead Petals.Co's Advanced Biotechnology Division.

She ruled it.

Her latest paper on regenerative plant cells was already making waves in international journals, and her project outcomes had increased R&D efficiency by 38% in just one quarter.

"She's a machine," a junior researcher whispered to a colleague. "She never misses a deadline, never makes a mistake. But… you can't deny how stunning she—"

They both froze as Tsukiko's icy gaze swept over them, silencing the conversation instantly.

Her beauty was undeniable.

Tall and elegant, with flawless skin and sleek black hair that framed a face of striking precision, Tsukiko Takamura turned heads wherever she went.

But there was something about her, something cold and unreachable, that made people hesitate to approach her.

She demanded excellence, both from herself and those around her, and she was known for cutting through inefficiency like a surgeon's scalpel.

And yet, for all her brilliance and accolades, Tsukiko carried a loneliness that no one could see.

Inside her private office, a sleek, minimalist space overlooking the sprawling city.

Tsukiko let the tension in her shoulders ease as she sat down. She gazed out the window at the skyline, the bustling world beyond feeling a million miles away.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, and the memories began to seep in, uninvited.

"Breakfast is ready!"

The soft call from the kitchen echoed in Tsukiko's mind, pulling her back to a simpler time.

She saw herself as a teenager, tying her hair into a neat braid as the morning sun streamed through the small window of her bedroom.

The light painted the room in warm, golden hues, catching on the small, worn wooden desk cluttered with textbooks and notes.

She straightened her school uniform, a navy blazer paired with a matching skirt.

The red ribbon at her collar stood out, a proud emblem of her status as a top student at Minazuru Academy, an all-girls school renowned for cultivating excellence.

Grabbing her bag, she called cheerfully, "Coming, Grandma!"

The smell of freshly made miso soup and grilled fish guided her to the kitchen like a comforting thread.

There, her grandmother stood by the stove, a petite woman with silver-streaked hair tied into a neat bun.

She was humming a soft, familiar tune, her hands deftly arranging breakfast onto plates.

"You're as radiant as ever, Tsu-chan," Grandma said with a smile as Tsukiko entered. 

Tsukiko laughed, her cheeks flushing. "Grandma, you say that every day!" 

"And I'll keep saying it until you believe me," Grandma replied with a wink, handing Tsukiko a bowl of steaming rice. 

Tsukiko sat down, taking in the sight of the simple yet delicious spread. "It looks amazing, Grandma." 

Grandma joined her at the table, her wrinkled hands gently patting Tsukiko's. "Eat well, my dear. You've got a big day ahead of you. Remember, every morning is a new chance to grow, to learn, and to bring a little kindness to the world." 

Tsukiko nodded, savoring a bite of the grilled fish. "You always know the right thing to say. It's like you have a book of wisdom hidden somewhere." 

Grandma chuckled, her laughter like a soft melody. 

Tsukiko smiled, her heart full. "I hope I'll be as wise as you someday." 

"Well, that's a given," Grandma said with a mischievous grin. "You've got my genes, after all." 

Their laughter filled the tiny kitchen, a melody of love and familiarity.

When the meal was finished, Tsukiko rose, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm off!"

Grandma followed her to the door, patting her head affectionately. "Take care, Tsu-chan."

Tsukiko turned back, her eyes shining with gratitude. "I love you, Grandma." 

"I love you too, my precious girl."  

As she stepped into the crisp morning air, Tsukiko felt a spark of determination ignite in her chest. The day stretched out before her like an unwritten story.

After school, the soft chime of a bell greeted Tsukiko as she pushed open the door to the flower shop, her second home.

The shop's warmth and the scent of fresh blooms enveloped her, chasing away the fatigue of the day.

"Ah, Tsukiko! You're here," called out Mrs. Kaname, the shop's kindhearted owner, as she emerged from the back.

She was a middle-aged woman with a warm smile, always clad in a floral apron. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Kaname," Tsukiko greeted, placing her school bag behind the counter. 

"Evening, my dear. A delivery came in this morning. Roses, lilies, and a few exotic orchids. I've set some aside for you to work on," Mrs. Kaname said, pointing to a corner where buckets of vibrant flowers awaited her. 

Tsukiko's eyes lit up as she approached the flowers, running her fingers gently over the petals. "They're beautiful." 

Mrs. Kaname chuckled. "I thought you'd like them. You have a knack for making bouquets that seem to tell a story. Customers always ask for your arrangements." 

Tsukiko blushed slightly but smiled. "I just try to match the flowers to what I imagine the customer wants to say. Flowers have a language, don't they?" 

"They do," Mrs. Kaname agreed. "And you speak it fluently." 

Tsukiko tied on her apron and set to work, carefully selecting blooms from the buckets. Her hands moved deftly, arranging roses and lilies with sprigs of baby's breath and ferns.

She wrapped the bouquet in soft, pastel-colored paper, tying it with a delicate ribbon. 

As she worked, the bell chimed again, and a young man entered the shop. 

Kaito Tanaka was a guy who had everything going for him. 

Popularity, charm, a tight-knit circle of friends, and a position as class representative at his school Hoshizora High, which he handled with ease.

His days were filled with laughter, running between classes, and making sure everything was in order. 

Everyone loved him. He was the kind of guy who could talk to anyone and make them feel at ease.

One day, Kai made his way to a small, quaint flower shop tucked in a quiet corner of town. A place he'd never been before. 

He was a tall, well-dressed high school boy with striking features that would have turned heads if not for the quiet determination in his eyes.

He was looking for flowers to give to his mother, though his eyes betrayed a deeper sense of purpose.

The shop had an almost magical aura about it, the kind of place that smelled like fresh roses and had an old-world charm.

As soon as Kai entered, he was greeted by a soft, melodic voice that made his heart skip a beat. 

"Welcome to Luna Petals," Tsukiko said. 

Her voice was gentle, but there was something commanding about it. She looked up, and Kai saw her—

Tsukiko .

She was standing behind the counter, arranging a bouquet of lilies.

Her long black hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, and her eyes, the color of dark hazel brown, looked calm and collected, like she was always deep in thought. 

Tsukiko was beautiful. 

Unbelievably so, but her beauty was the kind that was understated, the kind you couldn't ignore but also couldn't quite put your finger on.

"How can I help you?" Tsukiko asked, still looking at the bouquet in her hands, focused but polite.

"I need some flowers for my mom's birthday," Kai replied, feeling a little flustered. He wasn't used to being this nervous around girls, especially not one so… perfect.

Tsukiko raised an eyebrow slightly. "Well, in that case, I'd recommend the lilies. They're elegant and have a calming fragrance. Your mother must be someone very special to deserve such a thoughtful gift."

Kai smiled, trying to hide his awkwardness. "Yeah, she is." He fumbled with his wallet to pay, but Tsukiko was already wrapping the flowers in paper, her movements swift and practiced.

"That'll be 1,200 yen," she said, her eyes meeting his for a split second. There was something mysterious in her gaze, something Kai couldn't quite figure out.

Kai paid, thanking her as she handed over the flowers with a soft smile. He turned to leave, but then something caught him off guard.

Before he could reach the door, Tsukiko spoke again.

"I hope your mother likes the flowers," 

"She will," Kai said, grinning. "Thanks."

Kai tightened his grip on the bouquet, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

He couldn't quite explain it, but something about Tsukiko stayed with him long after he left the shop. 

He couldn't stop thinking about her Tsukiko. Her calm demeanor, her beauty, and the way she seemed so... untouchable. He couldn't get her out of his mind.

And as he walked home, the thought crossed his mind.

Maybe this wouldn't be his last visit.

One afternoon during the break at Minazuru Academy, the school hall buzzed with excitement over the upcoming science fair, themed 'Poppy: Nature's Innovation.'

But Tsukiko, sitting under a cherry blossom tree with a book in her lap, remained distant, more focused on her quiet life than the fleeting dramas around her.

But that morning, her peaceful world was interrupted. 

"Tsukiko, you have to help us!" Ayumi, a third-year student same as Tsukiko with wide, desperate eyes, rushed toward her.

Behind her trailed a group of students, all looking equally frantic. 

Tsukiko raised an eyebrow, marking her page before closing her book. "Help with what?" 

"It's the debate competition," Ayumi said, catching her breath.

"Our team's leader quit, and now we don't have anyone to represent us. The competition is in one month, and if we don't win, the school might lose its chance to compete at the national level!" 

Tsukiko exhaled a slow sigh, tapping the closed book against her palm. "And why, exactly, do you think I'm the right person for this?"

"You're the smartest in school!" Ayumi pleaded. "We need your calm under pressure."

Tsukiko sighed, her gaze drifting to the group of hopeful faces.

She had no interest in competitions or recognition, but she couldn't ignore the genuine plea in their eyes. 

With a calm but decisive tone, she finally said, "Alright, I'll do it. But only if everyone's willing to put in the effort. I won't carry this alone."

The students erupted into cheers, and Ayumi grabbed Tsukiko's arm. "Thank you, Tsukiko! You're a lifesaver!" 

That evening, Tsukiko gathered the team in the library. 

Tsukiko surveyed the materials scattered across the table, diagrams of poppies, data sheets about their medicinal uses, a rough outline of a presentation that lacked direction. It was a mess.

But Tsukiko wasn't overwhelmed by it; she saw possibilities. 

"I can fix this," Tsukiko thought.

She spent hours going over their arguments, teaching them how to anticipate counterpoints, and refining their delivery.

Her natural ability to lead shone through as she encouraged even the shyest members to speak up, offering constructive feedback without ever sounding condescending. 

Meanwhile, across town, Kai returned to the flower shop.

But when he entered, the shop was quieter than usual. The usual hum of activity was absent, and Tsukiko was nowhere to be found.

Instead, Mrs. Kaname greeted him with a warm smile.

"Hi... uh, where's the girl who usually works here?" Kai asked, his usual confident tone slipping into something softer, tinged with disappointment.

"Oh, Tsukiko? She's not here today," Mrs. Kaname replied, her hands deftly wrapping a bouquet of roses for him. "She had to stay back at school. Something about an assignment she's working on."

"School?" Kai repeated, blinking in confusion.

Kai had always assumed Tsukiko was older.

Something about the way she carried herself, calm, composed, made her seem far more mature.

Her poise and natural grace made him think she was in her twenties, maybe even out of college. But when the shop owner spoke again, his assumptions shattered.

"She's your age, you know," Mrs. Kaname added with a chuckle. "Just a high school student, like you."

Kai nearly dropped the bouquet. "Wait, really?"

"Yup," Mrs. Kaname confirmed, her smile widening. "She's one smart girl. Always studying, always working."

Kai's mind reeled. Tsukiko, the girl he thought was far ahead in life, was actually just like him navigating high school, juggling a part-time job, and still somehow maintaining that air of sophistication. 

He had imagined her as someone leagues beyond his world, someone unattainable. Yet, here she was, walking the same path he was.

The revelation caught him off guard, but it only deepened his admiration for her. Her maturity, which had once seemed distant, now felt even more impressive. 

And now, knowing they were the same age, Kai couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of connection, like they shared more than just their casual encounters at the flower shop. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could understand her a little better now.

It was a little ridiculous, Kai knew. He didn't need more flowers, but he had this feeling, this strange urge to see her again. 

The next day, Kai returned to the flower shop, his steps hesitant but driven by the thought of seeing her again.

"Welcome…" Tsukiko greeted,

"Oh, it's you," she raised an eyebrow as she spotted him entering.

She stood behind the counter, carefully arranging a fresh batch of flowers. Kai couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

"Yeah, uh, I was thinking... maybe some more flowers," Kai said, striving for a casual tone even as his heart pounded in his chest.

Tsukiko gave him a brief, questioning look. "Sure. What kind of flowers?"

"Hmm... actually, what would you

recommend?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck, trying to draw out the conversation.

Tsukiko didn't pry into the purpose of his request. Instead, she glanced at the flowers around her. "If you're looking for something elegant, I'd suggest orchids. They're rare and beautiful."

Kai's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "Like you?"

Tsukiko cringed hard at his pick up line. She hadn't expected that. 

"Uh..." Before she could formulate a response, Kai spoke again, this time blurting out the truth. "Actually, I just wanted to see you again. I'm… interested in you."

Her expression remained neutral, though her eyes betrayed a hint of something. 

Was it amusement? 

Was it annoyance? 

She wasn't sure herself. Instead of addressing his bold confession, she offered him a polite, almost detached smile and returned to arranging the flowers.

Kai lingered, unsure how to bridge the growing silence. His usual charm seemed to falter under Tsukiko's reserved demeanor.

Desperate to keep the moment alive, he tried again. "Can I ask you something?"

Tsukiko glanced up briefly, her tone even. "What is it?"

"What's your name?"  Kai asked, even though he already knew it.

Tsukiko didn't seem interested in prolonging the interaction. "Ah, it's Tsukiko." she answered simply, her voice distant.

Her short, detached response was all the confirmation Kai needed. 

She wasn't interested. 

He could see it in the way she held herself, the way she didn't engage. Any hope he might have had fizzled.

"Ah... Tsukiko. I'm Kai... by the way..." Realizing there was nothing more to say, he nodded awkwardly.

"Thank you for the flower. Tsukiko." he said before turning and leaving the shop, feeling foolish for even trying.

As he stepped out into the cool air, Kai couldn't help but glance back once more at the shop, but Tsukiko was already lost in her world of flowers, her mind and heart far away from him.

Despite the chilly reception, Kai refused to give up and continued returning to the flower shop.

No matter how hard Kai tried, Tsukiko consistently turned down his advances.

She couldn't afford any distractions, especially with so much at stake for her future.

But Kai was persistent.