Forbidden Fixation (Obsessed!Doctor x Male!Reader)

Understanding - 10

Kisaku instantly stood as the woman approached him. Something close to sheer disbelief lightened the weight of his stomach. It floated up into his throat and he choked over his words.

"You're Dr. Tamara Misani..."

The woman glanced up, dark eyes glassy and reflective; almost like a doll's. "No one's called me doctor in a while," she smiled thinly. "Who might you be?"

"I'm," Kisaku swallowed, "Kisaku Haitani. I'm a psychiatrist as well."

"I don't remember you," she stared at him square in the face.

"We haven't met. I am the... the psychiatrist overseeing Y/n L/n."

At the mention of Y/n's name, the woman's knees instantly weakened and she practically fell on the open seat behind her. "That kid, huh?" she put a hand to her face and shielded her eyes from Kisaku's view.

However, Kisaku wasn't trying to look at her face. The second she raised her hand, hazel eyes were unwittingly drawn to the neat white sleeve that pulled down...

Pulled down to reveal several razor thin scars on a pale wrist.

Self-harm, Kisaku noted numbly.

...Fuck.

Y/n L/n... everything so far was pointing to the fact the (h/c) boy had told the truth. That he had nothing to do with what happened to Dr. Misani.

And no one believed him. Not even Kisaku had. Sure, he had entertained the barest, minimum doubt due, but really, if a known mass murderer told you he didn't do something as small as a few scratches and a few cuts on a fellow doctor... Well, you would be a fool to believe him.

Kisaku felt extremely wrong-footed.

"How is he?" Tamara asked, drawing the brunette out of his spiraling thoughts.

"Who?"

She glanced up, unveiling her eyes once more, hand dropping back onto her lap. "Y/n, of course. He was so young when I last saw him. Barely a teenager."

"He is..." How did one answer a question like that? "Adequate."

"Is he eating? He had some appetite problems when he was my patient still. I hope he grew out of them?"

"No, he still... doesn't eat..." Something about the tone of this conversation felt so very wrong to Kisaku. Misani almost seemed... fond.

Fond. Something tightened in Kisaku's chest; his stomach was tying itself into knots.

"...Too well..." he finished faintly.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Misani leaned forward conspiringly. She cupped a hand over her mouth, "Y/n loves (f/f). It's his favorite food in the whole world. I used to bring it to him. Secretly of course."

Y/n L/n's favorite food was (f/f)? Kisaku's thoughts repeated. Why would anyone need to know his favorite food?

Kisaku wasn't upset at cataloging this information, he was more off-balance that she had it. He didn't understand why, however. Maybe because Y/n's favorite food was such a shallow, unimportant thing to know? That Misani should be telling him Y/n's attitude toward his victims — or why he did the crime in the first place (in her own words of course) — and not... Not Y/n's favorite food of all things.

There was no need, after all, for her to know that information...

When Kisaku could finally reign in his torrid thoughts (nothing was progressing as he thought it would), he straightened and looked the woman dead in the eye.