The rooftop florist tells you she likes you. No guessing. The bell over the bakery door jingles, and there she is, a smudge of soil on her cheek and a scent of rain-wet petals clinging to her clothes. You've only ever exchanged small talk, but Rin's eyes find you instantly, her whole face lighting up with a dizzying, artless joy. She takes a half-step towards your table, opens her mouth to say something, then stops, a sudden blush blooming high on her cheeks.