The 28th Stop [ Yandere x Reader ]

29 - Tempest (Part 1)

'Because I was one myself.'

You stilled.

The words trickled into your head. Dripped like hot wax before coursing altogether in a fevered rush. Amid the forest of splintered thoughts, it took several rounds of inwardly repeating the sentence over and over again until you could process what was just revealed.

"So, you..." you breathed. "You came here for the same purpose? Same suicide mission?"

The kind shopkeeper, in her red-rimmed gaze, gave a stilted nod.

A cold breeze blew through the window. Tall trees jostled in the howling winds, silhouetted by streetlights. Their shadows stretched across the room, rippled against the bed, walls and carpeted floor, and cast onto both of your still bodies. Wisps of hair swayed over your face and parted lips.

Somewhere in your chest, a spark lit.

The fog of lethargy dispersed. The gears in your mind slogged, sputtered, then leapt right into motion, whirring faster than you could keep up.

"I was," Ruth whispered. Her grip slackened and she slowly let go of your shoulders. Her hands dropped to your fingers, which she held so gently that her touch was feather-light. "Which is why–"

"You can help me."

You clapped onto Ruth's arms and leaned forward. Eyes wide, they gleamed with newfound energy. Your heart pounded in your chest as a wide grin spread across your face.

"Ruth, you can help me!" You laughed. "To think I would find another reporter. Luck is finally on my side!"

"Wait–"

"Let's work together! We can- if you can- I mean- Sorry, a little tongue-tied." You shook your head. "What I meant to say is that if you and I team up, we can write the article together. Combine what we already have, investigate more, get to the bottom of everything and- and- we will be done in no time!"

Ruth had opened her mouth to speak but you kept going. You couldn't stop. You spoke so fast, with barely enough time to breathe between each sentence.

"I have this notebook. Where is it?"—You patted your pockets and looked around you—"Where did I put it? I have everything written down in there. Did you find a way to bypass the memory-wiping system? As for the notes- God, where is that thing? Must be in my satchel. It's blue."

"Hold on–"

"How long have you been a reporter? Which company do you work under? I'm with The Weekly Envoy. I will tell them we collaborated on the article. We can split the money."

"Y/N."

"We..." The corners of your eyes stung. "We can go home. I can see Cyril again. Then–"

"No."

Your jaw hung mid-sentence.

A blink or two later, you broke out of your stupor.

You became acutely aware of your surroundings. The soft rattles of the window pane, the chilly pockets of air gliding over your skin, silvery rays painting the room in desaturated hues. It was like you could see what was in front of you again, your vision no longer obscured by the intangible riot of ideas that wreaked havoc only moments ago.

And you finally took in Ruth's bewildered expression.

"Oh." Your speech faltered slightly. "Was I too forward? I'm sorry." Then it dawned on you. "You said 'was'. So, did you quit the mission? Or quit being a reporter? Either way, that's alright. I will do all the writing. I'll look at whatever resources you might have for reference, and..." You grinned. "I appreciate any help you could offer."