Beneath Their Devotion (Yanderes x Reader)

1.27 The Gala

Warning: this chapter is, like, hella long... I was initially planning on splitting it into smaller parts, but I decided to post it in one go as a thank you for this story reaching 1K likes <3 this is also the last chapter of part 1!

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The double doors of the ballroom opened with a soft hush, causing the room to shift as Y/N and Ren stepped inside, as if the evening had been holding its breath, waiting just for them. She took a step forward.

The ballroom unfolded in golden layers before her. Light spilled from the chandeliers—slow and luminous, washing over gleaming marble and polished glasses on silver trays held by what appeared to be servers. There were voices, laughter, and music from a quartet tucked behind a screen of orchids—but it all felt distant. It was as though she were inside a dream, trying very hard to pretend it was real. Everything shimmered with that curated kind of glow.

She tried to focus and avoid fidgeting. She tried not to think about how eyes kept flicking toward them. Not openly though—no, these people were far too polished for that—but she could feel it.

Beside her, Ren exhaled a long-suffering sigh through his nose. "Dramatic, aren't they?"

Y/N blinked, startled, then glanced sideways. He was smirking. Of course, he was."Who?" she asked, her voice lowered.

Ren gestured with his chin toward the ballroom. "Everyone."

She looked. He wasn't wrong. Ren, for his part, looked perfectly at home. No—more than that. He wore the room like a second skin. His midnight blue suit, with silver threading that caught the light when he moved, was just subtle enough to be impossible to ignore. He was the kind of person who could walk into a place like this and seem as if he'd invented the very idea of charm. And she knew, rationally, that most of it was performance. But it worked.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "You're staring."

"I'm thinking," she replied.

"About how devastatingly handsome I look in this lighting?"

"I was deciding whether the wine fountain behind you is real or if I hallucinated it."

His smile dropped. "You'd choose wine over me?"

"In a heartbeat."

He chuckled, and she couldn't help the small smile that curled in response. But just as quickly, her mind flickered. Shiro's voice echoed again in her head, talking about bloodlines and backroom deals, and the things power dressed itself in when it wanted to seem palatable. Ren was part of this world too; just a different corner of it. She supposed she was too now.

She didn't want to feel wary around him. But after what she'd learned—after what she knew now—she couldn't unsee the way the walls of this place seemed to close in if you stared too long. She wondered how many masks filled this ballroom. Dammit, Shiro.

Still, when Ren offered her his hand with a mock-courtly flourish and murmured, "Milady," she took it. Because whatever else he was, Ren was part of her life now. And she liked him.

"Do you know who everyone is?" she asked as they moved toward the main floor.

Ren squinted theatrically. "Let's see. That man near the bar is a senator's cousin who thinks money can substitute for a jawline. Over there, someone whose name I've blissfully forgotten but who will talk your ear off if given the chance."

He looked at her, deadpan. "Do not initiate contact with him."

She blinked at his intensity. "I'll do my best."