𝗠𝗬 𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗥, 𝗠𝗬 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗞𝗘𝗥 // YANDERE RENGOKU X READER

𝟮𝟳: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗜𝗻 𝗚𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗲𝗻

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-ˋˏ 𝗞𝘆𝗼𝗷𝘂𝗿𝗼 𝗥𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗼𝗸𝘂 ˎˊ

𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗜𝗻 𝗚𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗲𝗻

PERHAPS ALL OF THIS LINES UP TO where it should be, as this is just a tumbling out of you and me, [Name]. Maybe we weren't meant to be present as you're lying over at Shinobu's place with your comforts, as she's drowning her toxin into your bloodstream. I couldn't let you leave that night because I'm an idiot. I was a pawn that put my emotion first and did not figure out how this could've even happened. No, I am much worse. I'm so unreasonable enough to realize that even someone had broken into my apartment when I came home from university today.

The door was unscathed and so was everything in the rest of the flat, lying off where I'd left it. Sure, there are records dispersed around the house and some parts have been raising dust, but I could know. Am I a maniac for understanding that? Just knowing that the air seems strange and that Mom's still around, lingering? Perhaps. Maybe it wasn't a big deal after all, since you were the last woman who I let into my place, but you didn't explore as I've delved inside of you instead.

I've worked a brief investigation in my living room, and bathroom and all I've found is nothing that could be taken from me. The TV was untouched, and my jewelry was still saving dust in the glass disc. Indeed the rubbish placed in the trash remains there, even, though I've neglected to take it out today.

Someone breaking into my home would mean a lot to me, but it means much something compelling as I've understood they ransacked nothing. I opened Mom's room to see if anything changed and everything was still the same – bed tucked, images still mounted, and the closet. I feel emptier than when I entered, but I presume it's because she's still in my head, singing to me. Likewise, I didn't do much today, Mom. I've only spoken to my students. I assumed you were gone after what happened with Giyuu, and you're not mad at me, right? Right, Mom? Right? Hello?

The bedroom was still chaos from what we'd made. Your dried cum is roused onto the blankets and I don't foresee I'll be cleaning it, but who knows, I smell you in this area and I regard it smells divine versus the woman you keep impoverished onto your side like an ornament.

The last place it meant for me to analyze is the area from where I'd be poring over reports and grading essays. Instinctively, if someone broke into your home, you'd be scrutinizing your belongings and heirlooms, but I'd be reluctant to evaluate since this is the place where I craved silence the most. And wandering in, what is silence without the eerie consternation of the dark chamber that I keep here with me?