Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

108.) Metamorphosis

(Y/n) clung to the back of the semi for what felt like an eternity, the rumble of the engine and the relentless pace of the wheels beneath her doing little to calm the whirlwind in her mind. She barely registered the passing scenery, her fingers white-knuckled on the cold metal, her mind replaying every moment that had brought her here. When the truck finally slowed at a distant intersection a few miles from the gas station, she knew it was time to jump.

She took a breath, bracing herself, and hopped off as carefully as she could, though the impact still jarred her already battered body. The world tilted as she hit the ground, her knees buckling as she fought to steady herself. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, a painful reminder of how much she'd thrown up earlier, and exhaustion weighed down every step. Stumbling away from the intersection, she glanced around, realizing she had no idea where she was- but for now, it didn't matter.

She spotted a bench on the sidewalk, and it looked like an oasis. She limped over, collapsing onto the cold, hard seat as her body finally relaxed, the tension flooding out of her like a breaking dam. Now, there was no distraction from the pain, and it came crashing in with unrelenting clarity. Her ear throbbed, swollen and tender from the bullet. Her elbows and knees were raw and bleeding, her shoulder a dull, burning ache. Not to mention her neck was still shooting sharp pain from the constant movement. She closed her eyes, leaning back as her fingers brushed the cracked phone still in her dress pocket.

The truth she'd uncovered on it gnawed at her as much as her hunger. She couldn't shake the cold dread that pooled in her stomach. Asahi's phone - this godforsaken device that she'd clung to for answers - revealed his ability to remotely control and monitor TransLux vehicles. She didn't know the full extent, but the implications terrified her. How many? And who was he monitoring?

She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling her pulse race as the weight of it all settled in. Her mom. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. She couldn't fathom a world without her mother, yet that gnawing feeling told her the truth she didn't want to face. None of it made sense otherwise.

The memory rushed back, fresh as if it had happened yesterday: the funeral for Aiko, her mom's solemn vow to turn in the phone (Y/n) had found. She'd volunteered to go to the police on (Y/n)'s behalf, concerned with (Y/n)'s growing paranoia, hoping to ease her worry. (Y/n) had stayed home, watching her mother drive off, expecting her to return that evening.

But she never did.

A lump grew in (Y/n)'s throat, the thoughts twisting into a sick, painful knot. Maybe the crash had happened by accident? But everything about it felt wrong, the timing, the eerie alignment of events. The plan had been simple: she'd turn in the phone, let the police handle it. But somehow, the phone had ended up in Kai's hands, not the police. It didn't make sense unless... unless they'd known. Known about her plan, known she was going to the station. But how?

Her head throbbed, every answer she stumbled upon opening a fresh set of questions, each one more nauseating than the last. She forced herself to breathe, leaning back against the cold bench, trying to let her body absorb whatever small relief it could find in rest. Yet her mind wouldn't settle.

Asahi. Her pulse quickened. He'd met her mother before. It had been innocent enough at the time, just Asahi helping her with a music project, going out of his way to buy a microphone. (Y/n) sat up, her back straightening as realization dawned, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. He'd bought that microphone... what if he'd been listening to her conversations all along? What if he'd overheard her plan to hand over the phone to the police?

Her stomach twisted, bile creeping up her throat, and she swallowed hard, knowing there was nothing left in her to bring up. She glanced back down at the cracked phone in her hand, its glitching screen now an ominous reminder of how deeply they'd intruded into her life. It all started making sense now- Asahi listening in, orchestrating the crash, and getting the phone back to Kai. Her chest tightened, a hollow ache spreading through her ribs. If that was true, then the crash hadn't been random or accidental. It had been staged, a cruel intervention to silence her mother and reclaim their evidence.