Hello, I’m your stalker
“… I’m s-stricken.”
The moment I reached the apartment building’s entrance, the words I had no intention of saying slipped out with a sigh.
I glance at the clock on my wrist and see that it’s 9:05. Of course, I know that there are people out there who work until much later, but I still feel annoyed that I’m being made to leave work three hours after regular hours.
Seriously, the general affairs department of a small or medium-sized company is like a chore that can be done at your convenience. Why should I have to help with the procedures for the president’s personal family trip after regular working hours?
I would like you to make your own flight arrangements, book the hotel, and take care of the procedures to claim the money spent on the trip as expenses.
While repeating these complaints that I couldn’t say directly in my head, I took out the contents of the mailbox and looked through them.
Among the items that would likely go straight to the trash, such as condominium guides and pizza delivery flyers, one beautiful envelope stood out in particular.
The white envelope, decorated with a floral pattern embossed in silver foil, had the words “Lady Sakakita Akari” written in beautiful letters and did not even have a stamp on it.
“Again?”
It was the same as always, the familiar envelope and my familiar name.
I wonder how many times this has happened. This letter started arriving a few months ago, and I still don’t know who sent it.
There is no sender’s name written on the letter, and because it is placed directly in your mailbox, it does not have the postal stamp that should be there, so it is impossible to trace where the letter was sent.
When I entered the room and opened the envelope, inside was the usual single sheet of letter paper.
The letter began with the line, “I’m worried that you, my darling, are pushing yourself too hard,” and ended with the sentence, “I’ve ordered an Esleep cheesecake to be delivered after 8 p.m. the next day, so please pick it up.”
“Esleep is something I saw on TV the other day…”
This incredibly delicious looking cheesecake was introduced as a popular mail-order sweet.
I wanted to try it so I searched for it right away, but it was booked up for the next six months so I gave up.
“…I absolutely have to be back by 8 pm tomorrow.”
Muttering to himself as if to strengthen his resolve, he folded the letter paper he had just read back into its original shape and placed it back in the envelope.
This is the 13th envelope I have accumulated, not knowing whether I should dispose of it or not.
I guess I should actually find this kind of thing creepy.
They knew my name and where I lived, and regularly sent me letters of love.
I have no idea who this person is, but he knows my food preferences and what I like to eat to a mysterious extent. It’s like he’s a stalker. Or rather, he is probably a stalker. Probably.
There is a possibility that if they are given this kind of service, they may one day find themselves in a dangerous situation where they will have to pay the price.
“Still, I don’t feel bad about it.”
Is it because of the beautiful handwriting and polite wording, or am I just weird?
I don’t have the slightest desire to call the police or get my friends to help me catch the culprit. In fact, I think I’d feel a little lonely if the letters stopped coming.
It’s the first time I’ve ever had someone show me affection. So far it hasn’t caused any harm, and it might be weird, but I feel a little happy.
In manga or dramas, there are scenarios where a cool guy with a bit of a secret sends a letter…Well, I know that things don’t always work out that easily in real life, but still, you’re free to fantasize and have fun.
Being an optimistic girl with a shoujo manga mentality, I was pretty relaxed until just yesterday, to the point where I thought I would write a reply if the sender’s name was included.
He was there, but.
Of course, this is unexpected.
I left work on time so I could get some cheesecake, and arrived home much earlier than usual.
The moment I stepped excitedly into the entrance, the first thing I saw was a man carrying a small white cardboard box.
I don’t know all the residents of the apartment building, and if that was all, I probably wouldn’t have paid much attention.
If I hadn’t been in the middle of putting an envelope in the mailbox with my room number written on it, I would have just walked right by without noticing.
“……fart?”
“Eh, why so early…?”
Seeing him interrupt himself mid-sentence as if to say that it was a slip of the tongue, my suspicions turned to certainty.
For the first time since I’d come here, fear got the better of my curiosity and my heart began to race.
He has his cap pulled down low and a black mask covering half his face, making it impossible to see his expression.
Still, I know that our eyes met perfectly.
I wanted to meet him, but when I actually saw him, he was a lot scarier than I thought he would be.
He’s taller and bigger than I imagined. I can only guess from the clothes he’s wearing, but he seems to have a pretty solid build.
Probably to the point where if you’re held down you can’t escape.
What should I do? What should I do?
Should I just run away the way I came?
Or would it be safer to dash to my room and lock it?
But this person is definitely faster than me, and I’m not confident that I can escape safely.
What if I make him angry by pretending to run away and then he attacks me?
I didn’t know what to do, and it felt like my body was frozen and I couldn’t move it of my own volition.
I feel like crying, but I’m so scared that even doing so might provoke this person that I can’t even blink.
My breathing became exaggerated from fear and my throat made a hissing noise. At the same time, the man in front of me took his hands off the mailbox and slowly removed his mask.
“that……,”
“Hk!”
It’s scary, my instincts tell me.
Without even having time to imagine what he might say, I suddenly turned around and ran off.
“Eh… Ah, wait, wait, wait!”
I moved my feet frantically, thinking that they were going to chase me, but I only had five seconds to escape.
Acting without thought was truly futile resistance.
The low voice that shook the air drew closer, and as I left the entrance, a rough hand grabbed my wrist a little too tightly on the road.
“Hii…!”
“Oh, um, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to scare you…”
Despite saying that, he didn’t let go of my wrist, as if he was telling me not to run away.
I was so scared I felt like crying, and just standing there was too much for me.
But still, why is that?
The man in front of me sounded weaker than me, as if he was about to cry at any moment.
“…Really, I was planning to go home as soon as I handed over what I had.”
In the man’s hand is a white box with a light blue sticker that says “Frozen” and the logo of a Western-style pastry shop called Esleep.
I moved my gaze from the box to the person’s face, as if to see if this was the item he was giving them, and when I recognized his face for the first time, I nearly stopped breathing.
“ehh……”
“……Yeah?”
“Ah… eh?… H-Hiro… Sama?”
There’s no way that could happen.
The moment I spoke the name that came to mind, the anxious face in front of me softly lit up as if relieved.
I feel a little embarrassed when people call me that, but the moment I heard that, I felt like my body temperature had risen by five degrees.
No, that can’t be true.
It shouldn’t be the case, but the voice and face are so similar that it seems unnatural for it to be just a lookalike.
“Yeah, that’s right… Haa. I’m glad you understand. I’m glad you know.”
I had no idea what was going on and my head was spinning as if I had a fever.
My wrist was hot as it was being held, but I’m sure my loud pounding heart wasn’t caused by fear.
“Once again, Norihiro Saiga. I’m here to give you the cheesecake that was delivered to my house by mistake.”
As he said that, he smiled softly and beautifully, and then he mentioned the same name as my favorite idol.