Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

41.) Waning

(Y/n) jolted awake, her chest aching as if someone had driven their knuckles into her sternum. Her eyes snapped open, pupils adjusting to the sudden brightness of the room. The pain vanished almost as quickly as it had come, replaced by a lingering soreness. Blinking rapidly, she looked up to see a nurse standing over her, an older woman with kind but worn features. Her gray hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she was scribbling something onto a clipboard.

The room was quiet, but it buzzed with a low hum of machines. She took a moment to gather her bearings. The walls were sterile white, a faint glow from the overhead fluorescent lights casting everything in a cold hue. Her parents were there, her mother seated beside her, and her father standing by the window, staring out into the world beyond as if lost in thought.

It was only then that she realized the horrible sensation of the tube down her throat was gone, replaced by the much softer, lighter touch of nasal cannulas. The small plastic tubes looped over her ears and rested in her nose, feeding her oxygen. Her throat still felt like sandpaper; dry, raw, as though she'd been wandering through a desert for years.

Her hand twitched, and that's when she felt a squeeze. Turning her head slightly, she saw her mother holding her hand, eyes red-rimmed and exhausted but filled with undeniable relief.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" her mom asked, her voice quiet, but the teen could hear the strain behind it.

"I'm... fine," (Y/n) croaked, though her voice was hoarse, barely audible. She swallowed, the motion painful, and winced.

Her father didn't turn from the window. He leaned against the sill, his hands in his pockets, but his eyes were distant, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. His body was tense, every muscle pulled tight as if he was waiting for some bad news to drop from the sky at any second.

The nurse, having finished jotting down her notes, stepped forward, clipboard in hand. She gave (Y/n) a small, professional smile and leaned in slightly. "Okay," the nurse began softly, her tone gentle but clinical. "I need to perform a quick neuro check, okay? Can you tell me your name?"

"(Y/n)," she rasped out, her throat protesting the effort.

"Good. Do you know where you are right now?" the nurse asked, watching her closely as she shined a penlight in her eyes.

"The hospital," she muttered, though it came out like a whisper. The teen squinted her eyes, the light lingering even after the nurse had pocketed it.

The nurse nodded approvingly, jotting something else down. "And do you know what happened?"

For a moment, (Y/n) hesitated. Flashes of memory came rushing back. The corn maze, the fire, the smoke that had filled her lungs. Taro... Taro lying in the flames. But she didn't know how much had been real and how much had been her mind playing tricks on her in the chaos.

"I... There was a fire," the girl answered, her voice trembling slightly.

The nurse's face darkened as soon as the word "fire" escaped (Y/n)'s lips. She watched the nurse's expression shift from professional calm to something more grim, more solemn. Panic began to well in the teen's chest, constricting her already struggling lungs. Her eyes darted to her mother, seeking answers.

"Taro," she rasped out, her throat raw and voice barely more than a whisper. "Where's Taro?"

The room fell deathly silent. The rhythmic beeping of the machines suddenly felt too loud, too invasive. Her mother's eyes softened, filling with a pain that (Y/n) hadn't noticed before. She opened her mouth, hesitating, her voice catching in her throat.

"Honey..." Her mom began carefully, searching for the right words. "Taro... Taro didn't make it."

Those words landed like a hammer on (Y/n)'s chest, shattering everything inside her. The world blurred around her, her vision narrowing as the reality hit like a wave, threatening to pull her under. No. That can't be right.