Beneath Their Devotion (Yanderes x Reader)

2.2 Surfing the Web

Y/N walked towards her first class of the week, her first class after the gala. Her footsteps were steady, but her mind was still hazy from yesterday's indulgent retreat into self-care. Five hours in the bath had seemed necessary at the time—now, it felt slightly decadent. A private little secret she carried with her.

As she turned the corner towards her classroom, her breath caught slightly. There stood Hideo Ito, Haru's father, the newly appointed, er—important role something. Principal advisor? Director of something? Some lofty title that held authority and influence. Whatever the specifics, the power he carried was unmistakable.

He occupied the space around him. Students either stared openly or veered away with studied nonchalance, as though proximity to him might draw attention they weren't ready for.

To her dismay, his eyes found hers almost immediately. That sharp, unreadable gaze of his—piercing and impossible to ignore. Y/N barely had time to consider pretending she hadn't noticed him when he was already moving toward her.

Wonderful.

"Good morning, Y/N," he said, his voice gentler than it had been during their first meeting, but no less penetrating.

"Good morning, Mr. Ito," she replied, polite but cautious. She tucked her hands neatly behind her back, hoping he couldn't tell how wary she was around him. Her smile was diplomatic, the kind she imagined politicians gave.

"I wanted to apologise," he continued, stopping a respectful distance from her, "for not being able to talk longer at the gala. Busy night."

Y/N nodded once, noncommittally. "It was," she agreed, keeping her tone light, even as every cell of her body urged her to keep moving.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if amused by some private thought. "Nao was enough to keep anyone occupied, wasn't she?"

Y/N blinked slowly, feeling a ripple of something she didn't like stir in her chest. A small alarm bell. She forced a polite laugh, the kind you give when you're not sure if the joke is safe to acknowledge.

"She certainly has... a strong presence," Y/N said, carefully measured.

Hideo chuckled lowly, but his gaze stayed locked on her.

There was a pause—a beat too long—and Y/N seized it, glancing down at her watch with exaggerated concern, as though remembering some pressing obligation.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm running late for class," she said, infusing her voice with an edge of regret that was just believable enough to excuse her retreat without offence. It was the truth, to be fair.

"Ah, of course," he said, stepping back with a small, courteous smile. "I wouldn't want to be the reason you miss it."

"Thank you," Y/N murmured, offering a quick, polite bow.

Without waiting for another word, she pivoted on her heel, walking away without a backward glance. Her shoulders remained squared, but inside her skin crawled slightly.

There was something unsettling about him. Maybe it was just the fact that he was Haru's father, and it was some twisted inheritance of unease. Or maybe it was something else, something she couldn't quite name yet.

Either way, she vowed to keep her distance. And to never, to the best of her abilities, let herself be caught alone with him again.

———

Y/N slipped through the classroom door just as the bell gave its final, scolding chime. The room smelled of old paper and erase markers. She inhaled it unconsciously, grounding herself, trying to shake off the last clinging tendrils of her hallway encounter.