Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

74.) Inanition

A few hours had passed, and (Y/n) sat alone in Reina's room, the silence growing heavier with each ticking second. None of the boys had bothered her the entire day; a welcome relief, but also unsettling. They were never this quiet. Something felt... off.

Her stomach rumbled painfully, but she ignored it. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her weakened. But the boredom was wearing her down. Restless, (Y/n) began rummaging through the desk drawers, desperate for some distraction. Finally, her hand brushed against a smooth plastic surface. A remote.

She grabbed it eagerly and powered on the TV, watching the screen flicker to life with a dull hum. "I can't believe these idiots left the TV in here," she muttered. A rare blessing, but a blessing nonetheless.

She immediately switched to the news channel, lowering the volume out of caution. At first, there was nothing, no updates, no leads. But just as she started to think the worst, a familiar face filled the screen. Her father.

(Y/n)'s heart skipped a beat. She scooted closer to the television, her breath catching in her throat as her father's disheveled, grief-stricken face came into focus. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His hair was messy, his clothes wrinkled, and his eyes were hollow with worry and exhaustion.

"I know my baby girl didn't do it," he choked, glancing at the news anchor beside him.

The anchor's voice was cold, professional, delivering every word like a knife to (Y/n)'s heart.
"But leads point to (Y/n) being the main suspect. How do you explain the fire? The stab wound? The crash?"

The crash? (Y/n)'s blood ran cold. She hadn't heard anything about a crash. What the hell are they talking about?

Her father's expression tightened, anger flickering beneath his weariness. "My daughter is just as much a victim," he shot back, his voice rising defensively. "And I will not rest until I find her again."

Then, he turned to face the camera, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Honey, if you're watching... please know that I'm not mad at you. I believe you, okay, sweetheart? Just... just come home."

His voice cracked, breaking under the weight of his desperation, and (Y/n) felt something inside her crumble. The way his words trembled, the raw emotion in his voice- it was too much to bear.

Her throat tightened painfully as she pressed a hand to the screen, as if she could reach through it and touch him. "I'm trying..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She needed to get out. She had to get back to him.

But just as hope began to flicker in her chest, the door flew open with a loud bang.

The TV flickered off with a soft click, the screen plunging into darkness. (Y/n) whirled toward the door, her pulse spiking.

"Surprise!" Keiji's sing-song voice shattered the silence, his wide grin spreading across his face like he'd just delivered the best news in the world.

(Y/n)'s body stiffened as he swung the door shut behind him, the soft click of the lock setting her on edge. "Look what I made!" he announced proudly, holding up a sheet of white paper.

On it was a crudely drawn version of her favorite food, the lines wobbly, uneven, and scribbled in with colors that bled outside the shapes, as if drawn by a child. The sight of it unsettled her more than it should have. It was almost... mocking.

He casually strolled deeper into the room, and (Y/n) instinctively retreated to a corner, her back pressed against the wall. Distance. She needed distance.