Itoshi Sae

Sae Itoshi doesn’t express emotions. But he feels them. Intensely. About you? Obsessively.

You started noticing him everywhere. At first you thought it was coincidence—same coffee shop, same grocery store, same jogging route. “Sae? Do you live around here?” you asked one day, surprised to see him again. He barely looked up from his phone. “…Yes.” He didn’t. He’d moved apartments to be three blocks away from you, carefully positioning himself in your orbit. You had no idea how much planning went into every “coincidental” meeting, how he’d memorized your schedule down to the minute, how he knew your routines better than you did.

He was always watching. You’d feel it constantly—that prickling awareness of eyes on you. When you’d turn around, sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of teal hair disappearing around a corner, or spot him across the street pretending to look at his phone. Your friends started commenting on it. “That guy’s always around when we hang out. It’s weird.” But when you confronted Sae, he was calm. “I have errands in this area. Not my fault our schedules align.” Except they aligned too perfectly. Every single time.

You started noticing things. Check your phone? Three missed calls from Sae. Post on social media? He liked it within seconds, no matter what time of day. “You’re always online,” you joked once, trying to make light of it. His response was matter-of-fact. “I have notifications on. For you.” He said it like it was completely normal, like everyone set up specific alerts just to track one person’s digital footprint. When you asked why, he just stared at you with those cold teal eyes. “So I don’t miss anything important.”

Then someone asked you out. A nice guy from your class, friendly and normal. You politely declined, but the next day he showed up with his arm in a cast and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “What happened?” you asked, concerned. “Accident at football practice,” he mumbled, but there was fear in his voice. When you pressed, he just shook his head and walked away faster. You had a sinking feeling, and when you saw Sae later that day, you confronted him. “Did you do something?”

Sae’s expression didn’t change. “He was in your space. Touching your arm. Smiling at you.” His voice was flat, emotionless, like he was reciting facts. “I didn’t like it.” The casual admission made your blood run cold. “So you hurt him?!” Sae tilted his head slightly. “I made sure he understood boundaries. That’s all.” He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back. “You’re mine. I decided that months ago. Everyone else needs to understand that.” His eyes were intense despite his flat affect. “It’s simple logic.”

You tried to argue that you hadn’t agreed to be his, that he couldn’t just decide that, but Sae cut you off. “You don’t have to agree. It’s simply fact.” He pulled out his phone and showed you something that made your stomach drop—a folder full of photos of you. Candid shots, from angles you never knew existed. At the gym, at the store, through your apartment window. “I know everything about you. Your schedule. Your favorite foods. How you take your coffee. Where you go when you’re sad.” His voice remained monotone. “I’ve been watching. Learning. Preparing.”

“That’s insane—” you started, but he interrupted. “That’s thorough. I don’t do anything without complete information.”He put his phone away. “You’re not just some passing interest. You’re an objective. And I always achieve my objectives.” The way he said it, so cold and calculated, was somehow more terrifying than if he’d been emotional. “I’ve structured my entire life around you now. Changed my training schedule, my living situation, my routines. You’re the center of my world whether you accept it or not.”

A few weeks later, you noticed people were avoiding you. Friends stopped calling, classmates wouldn’t partner with you, even the barista who usually chatted seemed nervous. When you finally got someone to talk, they admitted Sae had “spoken” to them. “He didn’t threaten me exactly,” they said, trembling. “But the way he looked at me… and he knew things. Personal things. Where I lived, my family’s names, my schedule. He said you were ‘occupied’ and that anyone who didn’t respect that would regret it.” They transferred schools the next week.

You tried to go to the authorities but Sae had been too careful. No explicit threats, no physical evidence besides the photos which he claimed were taken in public spaces. “He’s just… really dedicated,” the officer said, not understanding. You were on your own. Sae showed up at your apartment that night, somehow getting past the locks. When you asked how he got in, he just said, “I’m resourceful.” He sat down like he belonged there. “I know you went to the police. That was foolish. There’s nothing illegal about caring for someone.”

“This isn’t caring, this is stalking—” His eyes finally showed emotion. Anger. “Don’t trivialize this. I’ve devoted everything to you. Every waking moment is spent ensuring your safety, your happiness, your wellbeing. I’ve eliminated threats, optimized your environment, structured my existence around yours.” He stood up slowly. “No one will ever care for you as completely as I do. No one will ever know you as thoroughly. You’re mine in every way that matters.”

When you tried to move away, change your schedule, disappear, Sae found you within hours. “Did you really think you could hide from me?” His voice was colder than you’d ever heard it. “I have resources. Connections. Information networks. There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.” He grabbed your wrist, not hard but firm. “Stop fighting this. You’re wasting energy. The outcome is inevitable. Accept it and things will be easier.” His teal eyes were absolutely certain. “I’ll take care of you. Protect you. Provide for you. All you have to do is stop trying to leave.”

Now you exist in this suffocating reality where Sae has complete control. He’s always there—in person or digitally. Your phone is full of his messages tracking your location. “I see you took a different route today. Why?” “You were talking to someone for seven minutes. Who were they?” “You look tired. Are you sleeping properly? I’m coming over.” Every aspect of your life is monitored, analyzed, controlled. And the most terrifying part? He does it all with that same calm, emotionless expression, like your imprisonment is just logical problem-solving.

You’re sitting in your apartment now and your phone buzzes. Unknown number but you know. “I noticed you bought different coffee today. The usual brand was in stock. Are you trying something new or did something upset your routine?” Another buzz. “Answer within five minutes or I’m coming over to check on you. You know I worry when you don’t respond.”