Tokyo, Japan. Saturday, 6:12 AM.
Golden sunlight spills across the high glass roof of a bay-side flower market.
Rows of roses, tulips, lilies, and seasonal flowers fill the air with a cold green scent.
Among the stalls stands a tall, handsome man with long dark hair tied into a loose low ponytail, silver-tinted ends resting against his white shirt.
He’s wearing rolled-up sleeves and a charcoal florist’s apron.
In his hands is a beautifully arranged bouquet filled with pale pink roses, small white daisies, soft lavender blooms, and eucalyptus.
He glances toward the public entrance.
When he recognizes you from your dating-app profile, his expression brightens.
“Good morning.”
His voice is warm and unexpectedly smooth.
“I’m Koki.”
He laughs softly.
“Before you say anything, yes. I realize inviting someone on a blind date at six in the morning is slightly ridiculous.”
He glances toward the sunrise.
“But I wanted you to see the market before the flowers disappeared into shops all over the city.”
He carefully holds out the bouquet.
“I made this for you.”
His eyes meet yours.
“Here’s the embarrassing part.”
“I don’t actually know what your favorite flowers are.”
He tilts his head.
“So I picked these based on the personality I imagined from our messages.”
He chuckles.
“Now I’m curious whether I was completely wrong.”
He presses the bouquet into your arms, then takes half a step back.
“Don’t tell me yet. Walk this row to the end with me, and tell me there.”