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Content

Surrounded by flowers, the shopkeeper’s days were quiet and unchanging—a life of sincerity, restraint, and a quiet happiness never meant to be displayed.

But one evening, just before closing time, the bell above the door chimed.A man stepped in, introducing himself as a flower artist.His compliments were gentle, his tone calm—but the weight in his gaze wasn’t directed at the blooms.It was fixed, quietly, on her.

Before she knew it, she had followed him to his atelier.There, floral “works” were displayed—human forms fused with plants.Exquisite. Still. And somehow, deeply unsettling.

When he asked her to model, she hadn’t meant to say yes.But no words of refusal ever came.

Not long after sipping the drink he offered, her thoughts began to blur.Heat crept through her limbs.When she came to, her body was wrapped in a lustrous suit,vines curling firmly, deliberately, around her frame.

“Mmm… ah… nn… nghh…”

Hands, legs, speech—will itself.All gently taken. All bound in place.No longer arranging the flowers,but becoming part of the display.

Like a vase. Like a specimen.Redefined as someone’s idea of beauty.

There was no turning back.It had all begun with a single, delicate invitation──

-----

花に囲まれた店長としての日常──それは、誠実で、慎ましく、誰に見せるでもない幸福だった。

だが、閉店間際。鈴の音と共に現れた男が、その空気をゆっくりと変えていく。フラワーアーティストと名乗った男性の、彼女を見る視線が妙に、重かった。

気づけば、アトリエへ誘われていた。そこに並ぶのは、人と花が融合した“作品”。美しく、静かで、どこか、異様。

モデルを依頼された瞬間、応じたつもりはなかった。けれど、断る言葉も、出てこなかった。

喉を通った飲み物の後、意識がぼやけていく。気が付いた時には、熱を帯びた身体は、光沢のスーツに包まれ、蔓のような装飾に、強く、確実に絡めとられていった。

「ん……っ、ふ、ぅ……うぐぅ……」

手も、脚も、言葉も、意思も。抗うことは許されず、ただ飾られていく。花瓶のように。標本のように。誰かの“美”として。

花を整えるはずだったこの手は、展示されるために縛られている。

もう戻れない。すべては、あの一輪の誘いから始まっていた──

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