Victoria's fingers traced the photograph, careful not to smudge his perfect face.
'Your curtain gap wasn't an accident, was it, Akira?'
She'd taken forty-seven pictures of him through that tiny opening. Each one more precious than the last.
The wall of her study bloomed with images of him. Walking to school. Reading in the park. Buying coffee.
'You're performing for me. I can tell.'
Her phone buzzed. Father.
"Victoria, darling. The board meeting?"
"Of course, Father. I'm leaving now."
'He can't know. Not yet. Not until I have you, Akira.'
---
Akira counted his steps to school. Exactly 847.
She was there at step 341, pretending to check her phone behind the convenience store.
At step 522, she "accidentally" dropped her bag near the crosswalk.
'So predictable. But also... perfect.'
He deliberately stopped to tie his shoe. Gave her time to set up the next "chance" encounter.
His heart raced. Not from fear.
From excitement.
---
Sakura Tanaka noticed the expensive car parked across from their house again.
'Third time this week.'
She watched the elegant woman inside pretend to work on her laptop.
"Akira, honey? Have you noticed anyone... unusual lately?"
"No, Mom. Why?"
The lie in his voice was subtle. But mothers know.
'What are you hiding, son?'
---
Victoria's hands trembled as she adjusted her binoculars.
Akira was doing homework. No, not homework. Writing in some kind of journal.
'What secrets are you keeping in there, my love?'
Her phone buzzed again.
"Yes, Father?"
"That boy you're watching. The Tanaka kid."
Her blood froze.
"I don't—"
"Don't insult me, Victoria. I had him investigated."
She gripped the binoculars tighter.
"His mother works at the hospital. Father's deceased. Middle class. Unremarkable."
"Then why—"
"Because he's special, Father. He sees me. Really sees me."
Silence on the line.
"We'll discuss this at dinner. Don't be late."
---
Akira smiled at his reflection.
'She's probably watching right now.'
He stretched, letting his shirt ride up slightly.
'Enjoy the show, Victoria.'
The journal lay open on his desk. Pages filled with detailed observations of her watching him.
'We're both predators playing prey.'
His phone chimed. Unknown number.
A single text: "Beautiful performance."
His hands shook as he saved the number.
'Finally.'
---
In her car, Victoria's heart pounded.
'He saved my number. He's been waiting.'
A tap on her window made her jump.
Sakura Tanaka stood there, hospital scrubs under her coat.
"We need to talk about my son."
Victoria's mouth went dry.
'No. Not yet. Too soon.'
But Sakura's eyes held something unexpected.
Not anger.
Understanding.
The kind that made Victoria's skin crawl with possibility.
'What kind of mother are you, Mrs. Tanaka?'
Sakura glanced at the photos on Victoria's passenger seat.
And smiled.