Beneath Their Devotion (Yanderes x Reader)

2.12 Boxing

The bench Y/N was sitting on felt old. Its wood had faded from years of rain and sun and use, the metal legs rusted. It creaked beneath her weight every time she shifted. But she barely noticed any of that.

She hadn't realised how cold the air was until she sat down. Her phone sat loosely in her hand, its screen had been completely cracked. But, thank the universe, it still worked. Y/N didn't know if she could take her phone dying above everything else rhat had happened right now.

Her fingers hovered over the notifications she had received in the past half hour. Six missed calls. A handful of texts—some just question marks, others longer. She had texted them she was alright after Haru had called,  and they didn't need to come, but that didn't stop more texts from following. Most of them came from Yuuichi and Ren.

'What happened?' 'Are you alright?' 'Is Haru there?'

Shiro had only sent one. 'Are you safe?' And when she responded that she was he hadn't sent her anything else.

And Rory... nothing. Not a single message. But she supposed it would be weird for anyone to be up at this hour, though.

She stared down at the screen for a long time, watching the battery slowly drain.

Beside her, Haru sat without speaking. His posture was calm, slightly hunched over and his hands resting lightly between his knees. He wasn't stiff or tense, just.. still. Y/N frowned. Definitely not the kind of stillness that belonged to someone who had just beaten several people bloody.

Earlier, he had walked away to take a call—maybe thirty steps, maybe less—but he had kept her within sight. Even now, she could hear the echo of his voice in her head, sounding low and restrained. He hadn't said who he was calling. And she hadn't bothered to ask.

Now, it was quiet. It scraped at her nerves.

Eventually—after too long with only the sound of her own pulse for company—Y/N spoke, her voice barely audible. "I was wondering..."

His head tilted slightly, a subtle shift, but one that told her he was listening.

She kept her gaze low, eyes on the ground between her shoes. "Why were you here? This part of the city. It's... far. From Thornebridge, I mean. Especially at this hour. On a weeknight."

A silence stretched out between them, too taut to be neutral. He didn't answer, he just looked away again, as though the question had been addressed to someone else.

Her chest tightened. The quiet pressed inward, like she was underwater. "You said I dropped a pin. But that doesn't explain why you were already nearby. You got here faster than anyone else."

She risked a glance at him. His fingers twitched slightly. It was the kind of motion most people wouldn't have seen, but unconsciously she'd learned to read him in the margins over time—in the space between breaths, in the shifts he didn't mean to reveal.

Y/N turned toward him a little more fully, her knees angled toward his with her hands curled in her lap. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm really glad you were there. I just... want to understand."

Still, he said nothing. But she could feel his attention settle on her—unmoving.

"I can't stop thinking about what happened," she admitted, her voice cracking on the edges. "It keeps playing in my head. Over and over. And I keep asking myself—why were you the one who showed up first?"

Haru's shoulders shifted slightly, the movement more exhale than action. Finally, he spoke. "...It's a hobby."

She blinked. "What?"