Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

63.) Cathexis

Souta sat at his desk in art class, staring down at the sketchbook in front of him with a scowl. He'd left the counselor's office earlier, thinking maybe focusing on art would help clear his mind. It hadn't. The pencil in his hand hovered over the page, but instead of the clean, deliberate strokes his teacher wanted, only meaningless scribbles filled the space.

He tried to focus on the still life they were supposed to draw - a bowl of apples and a ceramic vase - but the lines kept twisting and curling into nonsense shapes. His mind wasn't on the assignment.

It was on the announcement he'd heard at lunch.

"(Y/n) (L/n), principal's office now."

The memory of it gnawed at him. And now? She wasn't in class. That only made it worse. His grip tightened on the pencil, pressing so hard the wood groaned beneath the pressure. He was careful not to snap it, though, it wasn't like him to let things break.

He didn't know why this was bothering him so much.

Before, (Y/n) had been nothing more than an annoyance. He tolerated her presence out of necessity, only because Reina cared about her so much. The two of them were close, and Reina's happiness had always been worth the minor inconvenience of having (Y/n) around. But Reina was gone now.

And with her gone, there was no reason for him to care anymore. Right?

So why the hell was it still bothering him?

Souta exhaled sharply, tapping the pencil against the edge of the desk in a nervous, repetitive rhythm. He tried to convince himself that it was just curiosity. That was all it was. Curiosity.

But he knew better.

He could feel the tension buzzing in his head, a low static hum that no amount of sketching could shake off. His classmates worked quietly around him, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath his carefully neutral expression.

But his mind was far from still. It kept circling back, dragging him through the memory of his conversation with (Y/n) earlier- her scraped arms, the exhaustion on her face, the way she had said Minato's name without a trace of fear.

"Minato, but she got the worst of it, trust me."

The thought of the fight gnawed at him. He knew that (Y/n) and Minato had a history- bad history. He'd known that much even before Reina's death. But hearing (Y/n) talk about the fight in such a casual, matter-of-fact way unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain.

He pressed his pencil harder against the page, the lead dragging rough and deep across the paper. He could hear it, the sound of something breaking, no, splintering, beneath his fingertips. His knuckles ached, but he didn't stop. His thoughts kept dragging him backward, deeper into memories he didn't want to revisit but couldn't seem to avoid.

He remembered the time he had gotten detention. At the time, he told himself it was for Reina's sake, that he was only stepping in so his sister wouldn't lose one of the few real friends she had. So that (Y/n) wouldn't be left alone in a room with a bunch of unstable teenagers.

But was it really for Reina?

He bit down on the inside of his cheek, sketching faster now. Random shapes turned into angry, erratic scribbles. Chaos on paper. It wasn't like him to obsess over things. But this... this was different. It was gnawing at him, and no amount of rationalizing could smother it.

He told himself again and again that he owed (Y/n) for what she did. When Reina's allergy attack hit, it was (Y/n) who had kept her breathing. She had driven Reina to get help, saving his sister's life. That had to be the reason why Souta kept looking out for her, why he couldn't let things go. It was repayment.