#in a cafeteria full of people
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#dislyte#textposts#tang xuan#lewis dislyte#li ling#lu shang#jin hee#unky chai#if I named everyone id take all night#new event who dis?#still no new Korean espers? tsk tsk#la dee dah dee dah (constantly being barraged by schoolwork)#a few days ago at lunch two of my tablemates did the dragonball fusion dance and it was funny as heck#both teenage boys#in a cafeteria full of people#king shit#Use of Jin hee’s divinate was on purpose#justice to my girl
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historically accurate trip to clifton's cafeteria!!!
[progress shots under the readmore]
#em draws stuff#SEND HIS ASS TO THE CLIFTON’S CAFETERIA!#I have been working on this image for More Than A Week and I feel like it has taken years off my life :]#look sometimes you get possessed by enthusiasm about fun comics you read and also nostalgia for bizarre novelty restaurants#due to the fact that clifton's no longer exists I cannot go there. but I can send the blorbos there by force if I so choose.#there's just something about old southern california restaurants with strange gimmicks and themes. take me away to there.#since I am very proud of this I will be using the full proper tags just this one single time [lying through my teeth]#swapping my usual format so there’s not just an absolute deluge of organizational stuff right off the bat#I think I said that the madness would probably go away soon but as you see that has not been the case (it's only gotten worse)#this is the most people I’ve put in a picture since I don’t know when#actually after a quick look-see through my files this might very well be the most people I’ve put in a picture Ever#the madness will do that to ya I guess. also the sheer raw clifton’s energy.#(altho' I got so tired in the end that about half the background is a very crunchy photo of The Real Clifton's...)#this is why my header is what it currently is and also why I posted that horrid 70s jello drink a week ago#many thanks are owed to jon dxppercxdxver for chatting with me about outfits and drink orders and such!#this is fanart for the weirder forefather of a rainforest cafe just as much as it is fanart for a videojame#I do not know what the typical tagging etiquette for this is but by golly I'm going to guess#clifton's cafeteria#team fortress 2#spy tf2#engineer tf2#soldier tf2#sniper tf2#demoman tf2#medic tf2#heavy tf2#pyro tf2#miss pauling#scout tf2#why yes I am tagging clifton's Like It Is The Piece of Media. what of it.
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the duality of misao being one of the few psychiatrists in arkham that has actually made progress with some of their patients and treats them like human beings, but also someone who does a complete 180° later + EATS her patients and gaslights people who ask about them into thinking they were never committed there is currently making me go feral. like girlll why are you like this JSJSJ
#ALL POWER DEMANDS POWER AND SACRIFICE: musings.#NO SLEEP OF THE INNOCENT. NOT FOR YOU: character study.#and whenever i say it's making me go feral i mean it both puzzling as well as intriguing to me that misao seems to not be on ANYONE'S-#side even when it may seem like she might just care about her patients bc she not only gaslights any of the staff and patients who ask abou#them into thinking that the person was never there BUT also destroys records of them ever having been there which would take quite a bit#of effort on her part to do and that is just. wow but like i said here misao is probably one of the only doctor's throughout the years who-#have treated their patients with empathy (even if most of it is faked on her part JSJSJ) and even does thing's like keep a cupboard-#full of snacks in her office for them so that they could have something better to eat than the cafeteria food...#and that is why i believe that it honestly wouldn't be too far-fetched for misao to end up having a redemption arc because-#she honestly doesn't like a LOT of the staff there because they still advocate for the use of barbaric practices like ECT on fully-#conscious people and as a regular treatment when it should be done under anesthesia / while the patient is asleep and be a 'last resort'#kind of thing you know? plus she has heard them talk about her behind her back before bc they think misao's 'weird' sooo yeah.#she isn't COMPLETELY evil but she still does thing's like eat people which is heinous in and of itself but even more so when there's-#a power imbalance between you + the other person because some people in there i could imagine would probably grow to trust her-#as an authority figure buttt misao would fully intend to take advantage of that so she could eat. and that is uhhh TERRIBLE to say the leas#tw: mentions of cannibalism.#tw: mentions of medical malpractice.#tw: manipulation.#tw: mentions of a power imbalance.
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While I don't know much about it, I would probably bet there are tons of issues with the cruise industry that would make me not actually appreciate it broadly speaking - HOWEVER, I do really love a lot of the interior design of some cruise ships.. How it's almost like a miniature city crammed into one area. Multiple sections with all different aesthetic designs, a variety of shops, restaurants, activity centers, community seating areas, communal use spaces (like gyms, laundry, pools, cafeteria/buffet (which I always love anywhere)), etc. etc. but then also everyone has a little nice clean comfortable looking space of their own to retreat back to if they'd like to be alone. Maybe it's something akin to the idea of 'walkable cities', where everything you could ever want to do is kind of right there just a short walk away? I also especially love how so much stuff is stacked on top of other stuff, a layered cluster of spaces, bright open atriums, and when they're set up with little walkways down the center between a bunch of rooms so it's almost like a mini city street with apartments lining it, etc.. They often seem like they'd be SUCH a cool place to live permanently, IF only something identical was just built on solid land instead lol
#currently watching a channel on youtube where some person is reviews/tours cruise ships or something#and I'm just like wow the whole traveling part would be miserable hell and I would hate trying to get off of the stupid ship everyday#and see seomthing and make it back in time or etc. but OOOOO THE BEDROOMS! love the TINY minifrige!! eeee .. lol#perhaps just an extension of of my obsession with communal spaces. also love hospitals. nursing homes. hotels. AIRPORTS!!!#thats just how humans are meant to live for me. my ideal situation is that sot of thing like big beautiful bright communal places#but i also hate socializing i just like the idea of like. the entire communal world is in front of me but i also have my own little space t#retreat back to. youre not forced to participate. but the world is right outside your window if you WANT to go. ALSO people watching is fun#Plus i think part of what i hate most about Going Places and Doing Things is the commitment of it and traveling#especially in america where its like to get ANYWHERE it's a 3 hour drive or 15 min drive#or 20 min drive or 1 hr bus ride or blah blah. the idea of having plenty of fun little things to do that are all solidified#in ONE single complex that is also where your room is would actually encourage me to do things more because if#my health issues start flaring up or i get overwhelmed or etc. i can literally just... retreat back to my room that is a reasonably short#walk away. instead of like ''UGH now not only do i feel too bad to finish my excursion but ALSO i have a 40 min car ride ahead of me''#etc. Not saying that even in that situation I would become Super Extravert Thing Doer like i still LOOVE a quiet lifestyle mostly alone do#ing the same 5 repetitive tasks over & over again working on specific hobbies. but just that i WOULD go out SLIGHTLY more and do Activities#if the activities were already brought to ME. like a cruise ship layout where you have your little room private space but when you feel#like it on your own terms you could venture out and go to a little cafe or a swimming pool or etc. WITHOUT even having to leave#or get in a car and travel. just walk form your room to The thing. amazing.. ground breaking.. BUT especially the layers are important. I#dont mean just 'have the same features but in a way that theyre on land' I mean LITERALLY translate the EXACT layout of the cruise ship but#on ground instead. Like I want a full community cafeteria on the middle floor of my apartment complex. there should be a pool & waterslide#on the roof. A community games room on the 4th floor. a library right under my bedroom. etc. etc. Though maybe ideally I would say#add a little extra space like most people couldn't live their entire lives in a cruise ship room layout. But maybe just have the rooms expa#nded to the average size of like a 3 bedroom apartment. and then still stack them on top of each other.. More spacious decks so people can#have some plants (but also a community garden somewhere too). ANYWAY... Idk I just always love the aesthetics. I would love to tour a cruis#ship but like NOT go on a cruise EVER lol.. but just.. SEE the space. I love interiors so much. Also makes me think of worldbuilding like.#I think cruise ships could also be good inspiration for underground stacked cities in layers. things like that. OR just actually the fant#asy world version of a cruise ship lol. Though Nanyevimi's oceans are all so treacherous that non-inland water travel is avoided as much as#possible (even if it's more tedious to travel on the land) and would rarely be done for leisure. still.. river cruises could exist.. >:3c#In Nanyevimi the oceans are akin to how Outer Space is on earth (seen as a mysterious unexplored dangerous area etc).. a cruise ship of#rich elves setting out on a Groundbreaking First Ever Ocean Cruise & it just goes Wrong like a sci-fi 'trapped in space' type thriller LOL
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Man its like. I kind of AM going to die this way and i hate the world anyways
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be the weird hot person you want to see at the mall
#we went to a cafeteria that was full of obviously middle class white people#and this woman looked scandalized at my boots 😭#their passion fruit with pepper italian soda was banging though#nar.txt
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Lunch breaks should be 1 hour minimum change my mind
#cowmmunist#tired of this bullshit#like actually#i dont give a fuck who you are#why do you not want to take some time to sit down and decompress and enjoy a meal midway theough the day#why do you want to work 14 hours straight without stopping#more importantly why do you force this upon others and just think its okay#there is a 15 minute window for my lunch break today#like thats just no lunch break for me#like what im currently doing isnt gonna get done by 1pm#and so that meeting at 1:15 i have to make cant be moved to another date#so i might be able to step away at 1:05 or 1:10#walk across this giant building and take an elevator ride#wait in line at the cafeteria#sit down and lose my appetite because the food is a sorry excuse#then sprint full speed at the window and jump out making my way to the oavement below#thats what it feels like at least#i just dont understand how people could be so inconsiderate dude#its literally my only break today#fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you#anger
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I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-
-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.
-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.
-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.
-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.
-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if you’re leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.
-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.
The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.
It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.
#fantasy high#riz gukgak#gorgug thistlespring#figeroth faeth#fabian seacaster#adaine abernant#kristen applebees#dimension 20#the bad kids
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Flattery Works With Me
Eddie Munson x shy!fem!reader
summary: with a predicament, the boys beg you to ask Eddie to postpone a DnD session because they know he will do anything you ask
part two
The conversations that were happening throughout the cafeteria rang in your ears as you headed to the table that you always sat at. The usual suspects were all there and you were going to take your seat right next to Eddie just like always.
You were nervous to speak to him, not only because you were shy, but also because you had been meaning to ask him if the DnD session for that night could be postponed because you had a lot of homework. But you knew how he felt about that sort of thing so you were dreading it, hoping that he would agree just this once.
Before you could sit, though, you could see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all arguing a little ways away from the table. From the looks of it, it seemed to be pretty heated and there was no way you were getting in the middle of that. You hated hearing people argue, the loud voices always making you feel anxious because you didn’t have control of the situation. And you liked having control, craved it, even.
But as soon as you set your tray down on the table, Lucas waved you over. You didn’t know what he was wanting, but you reluctantly made your way over to the boys, your curiosity piqued. You now had to know what their little spat had to do with you.
“What’s going on?” You asked and Dustin was about to speak before Mike cut him off. That was something that happened often considering that Mike didn’t like how slowly Dustin would take to explain the situation.
“Look,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. “We have a prior commitment and can’t make it to the session tonight.” You just knew that they were only telling you that because they wanted you to ask Eddie.
“Correction: Mike was out late with El last night and got grounded so he can’t go to the session,” Lucas corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“We were wondering if you’d talk to Eddie for us?” Dustin looked at you with hopeful eyes and the smile on his face made you want to pinch his little cheeks.
“Why me?” You knew exactly why, but you wanted confirmation that Eddie did feel how you thought he did. That you weren’t just being delusional. Because that had happened so many times; you having a crush on someone and your feelings not being reciprocated in any way shape or form.
“Are you kidding? The man is in love with you.” You scoffed at the comment, but couldn’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks. Could it have been possible? You supposed you were going to have to ask, but you just couldn’t get yourself to. Asking him to postpone the session was one thing, but asking if he had feelings for you? Absolutely not.
“Yeah, he’ll do anything you say.” There was some truth to that and if you had more confidence, you would have tested just how far you could get by batting your lashes and putting on a flirty tone. “So will you please ask him?” You were going to ask him anyway, but now there was pressure on you to actually make the move.
“Why don’t you ask him?” You didn’t understand why it had to be you. Surely he would have postponed it for them, right?
Mike rolled his eyes and made a beeline for Eddie and you watched the conversation, barely picking up what they were saying, but Eddie definitely didn’t look happy. He then waved Mike off and the boy gave you a look as if to say “See?”
“I told you, he won’t listen to us. But with you? I think we have a shot.”
“I don’t know,” you shook your head. You really didn’t believe them, because why would Eddie have been interested in you? You had barely uttered a full sentence to the man in the few months that you’d known him so there was no possible way that he could have liked you like that.
“Please?” Dustin begged one more time and the three of them jutted out their bottom lips, their eyes pleading. God, you really were a pushover.
“Well, I do have a lot of homework to do tonight.”
“I knew she’d do it,” Mike nodded with a smile and you ignored him, taking a deep breath and heading over to the metal head who was sitting at the end of the table.
Eddie took no time to turn to you, a bright smile appearing on his face. You were so pretty that it was unfair and he kept wondering to himself what he had done to have been so lucky to have you in his life. He thought your shyness was adorable, the way he’d have to lean forward to hear what you were saying because of how soft spoken you were.
And the dresses you always wore nearly killed him. The way they swung when you walked and how everyone would stare at you in the school hallway, he wondered how you didn’t realize just how beautiful you were. Surely you had to have known, but with the way you were always so surprised when he complimented you, it was clear that you had no idea.
“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted him, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, every time you caught sight of that beautiful brown color, you knew you’d be a goner. They were hypnotizing, so fucking pretty that it should have been a crime.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, turning fully in his chair to face you. “Take a seat.” If he knew it wouldn’t have made you uncomfortable, he would have offered his lap.
You hesitantly sat in the seat next to him and he could tell you were uneasy, your anxiety palpable. He let his hand inch towards yours underneath the table, letting his pinky stroke yours gently as if asking for permission to take it. Without a word, you wrapped your pinky around his, ignoring his gaze, unpacking your lunch with your free hand.
You felt your anxiety melt away as you felt his pinky squeeze yours gently, as if to tell you that he was right there for you. And he was. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, because at that point, you were his number one priority and he would stop at nothing to help you. He wished it was possible to go into your mind and quiet the voices that were always whispering to you.
“Can I ask you something,” you asked, feeling your hands shake as you realized what you were about to do. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Eddie just leaned forward so he could hear you. His hearing wasn’t that great anyway, but he actually kind of liked that you were so soft spoken so he had an excuse to get closer to you.
“Anything,” he replied, giving your pinky another squeeze and you beckoned him forward. Eddie leaned closer to you with no question and you nervously reached up and tucked some hair behind his ear, cupping your hand around it before leaning in and whispering into it.
“I-I have a lot of homework to do tonight and I was wondering if it’d be okay if we postponed the session tonight?” You asked and felt your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for his answer. You pulled away from him and bit down on your bottom lip and Eddie had to stop himself from staring, wanting to pull your lip from your teeth and kiss you, not giving a single fuck about who was looking.
You were so goddamn adorable that he felt his chest ache. Didn’t you know that he would do anything for you? Just one bat of those eyelashes and he would have even been willing to commit murder if it meant that you would give him even a sliver of a chance.
“Yeah,” he nodded his head furiously. “No problem. You know flattery works with me," he winked, giving you a nudge. He hadn’t even given his decision a second thought as he stood up from the table, his mushy feelings subsiding as he took on his authoritative role.
“Alright, everyone listen up,” he said, his voice a little too loud for your liking. “The session tonight is being postponed until next week because y/n has homework to do.” You turned to the others at the table and they all groaned, digging into their pockets and pulling out money that Dustin was gratefully taking, thanking them all for the cash.
You could hear grumbles from the others, upset that not only was there not going to be a session that night, but also because they now were out five dollars. It was seemingly a lose-lose. You turned to Eddie who was already looking at you, a warm smile playing on his pretty pink lips.
He then leaned down and put his lips right by your ear, his hot breath on your skin making you shudder. His hand fell to your shoulder and the way his hair was fanning around you made your cheeks heat even more.
“I can help you with your homework if you need it.” He pulled away so that your faces were only inches apart, that stupid smirk still evident on his lips.
“I-I’d like that,” you nodded.
“It’s a date,” he said, shooting you a wink before sitting back down in his chair. You lowered your head and began eating your lunch, letting yourself come up with things to do with Eddie because there was no way you were actually going to do your homework.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x shy!reader
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Whiplash
Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!
Wordcount: 2010
A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞
You weren't there... again.
Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.
And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.
Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.
He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.
He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.
"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"
Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."
Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.
At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.
Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.
"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"
The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.
"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.
He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"
《----------♡
When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.
He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.
Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.
To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.
You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.
He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.
When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.
Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.
Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."
Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.
Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.
"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."
The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"
You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."
You didn't want to go back to normal.
For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."
Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.
Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.
Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.
"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."
"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."
All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."
"Don't be mean Eddie."
He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.
In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.
When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.
"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.
"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."
His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.
"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."
"I won't Eds, I promise."
"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"
You laugh, "I have no idea."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson one shot#stranger things x reader#stranger things fluff#stranger things fanfiction#eddie stranger things#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#fem!reader#x reader#fanfics#fanfiction#oneshot
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since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE
reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.
IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT
mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.
Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.
Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.
Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.
Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.
Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.
Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)
Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.
Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.
Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!
Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?
Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.
Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.
Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.
Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.
Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!
Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?
Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.
Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?
Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.
Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.
Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.
#auburn's fics <3#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#disney twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#silver x reader#twst silver x reader
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everybody talks
i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever
It starts with the graffiti.
Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.
STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON
The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.
Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.
The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.
Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.
Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.
He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.
Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.
Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.
He looks down automatically.
There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.
Great.
Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.
As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."
Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.
He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.
The teacher starts class.
He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.
Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"
The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.
Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.
Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."
Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.
"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."
It's not really a question.
Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."
"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"
Steve reels back. "Huh?"
"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."
"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."
"Oh."
Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.
Wait, that sounds wrong.
They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.
"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.
Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.
Right.
Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.
Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.
He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.
"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.
"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."
"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.
"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"
Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.
"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.
"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"
"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."
"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."
They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.
He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?
"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," Eddie says idly.
"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"
Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."
Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.
Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."
"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."
"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"
Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"
"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."
Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.
EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#slightly suggestive#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#stranger things#don't ask i don't know. fucking enjoy#also i normally don't give tumblr fics titles but like. i did not want this to show up in my notes as 'steve harrington fucks eddie munson'#so everybody talks it is
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secret admirer
859 words
Steve watches a lot of people. He sees girls as their eyes linger on him. He sees some boys do the same.
If Tommy caught them, he’d probably do what he always does; humiliate them, hit them. He’s always been a bit protective of him. Steve doesn’t know why. He’s known Tommy since middle school because their lockers were next to each other since they were assigned alphabetically. It’s been like that every year since then, too.
Sometimes he wonders what his best friend would do if he stopped averting his gaze from places it shouldn’t be yet always strays to.
More and more lately he finds himself watching someone in particular.
Steve has to be careful. He can’t let his gaze linger and he has to make sure his face stays neutral, almost as if he’s looking through him and not at him. He forces himself to laugh when someone cracks a joke about The Freak as if Steve isn’t one himself.
He knows he’s a hypocrite - a coward. He wishes he could be more like Eddie. Just be himself and not care about judgment or criticism.
It’s his biggest dream and greatest fear.
Steve’s seat in the cafeteria conveniently (strategically) puts Eddie directly in his line of sight. Aside from the singular elective they share, it’s the only time Steve gets to see him. He’s only been watching him since school came back after winter break and he’s captivated.
He wishes he had somewhere to expel all of the thoughts he hoards in his brain like a dragon does gold. (Something Steve only knows because he - like a stalker - saw a book Eddie was carrying around for a week or so and checked it out of the library himself as soon as it was available. On the log card inside the cover, E. Munson was written a few times along with some other names.)
He gets an idea on Valentine's Day when he opens his locker after last period and a couple of pieces of paper fall to his feet. Steve watches as Tommy picks one up and coos, “Someone’s got an admirer.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and snatches the paper. He doesn’t necessarily care what these girls have written to him, but he feels weird letting anyone else see something that was intended for his eyes only.
Tommy only snickers and pats him on the shoulder a few times in approval. Steve puts the valentines in his backpack to look at when he gets home. He zones out as Tommy starts talking again - something about taking Carol Perkins to Benny’s.
At home, Steve reads the cards with a furrowed brow. He doesn’t want to be ungrateful given these girls are putting themselves out there and making a move on someone they like. It’s just.
He feels completely detached from it all. None of the messages are personal. They could have been given to anyone.
He - somewhat guiltily - throws them away.
The next day, Steve excuses himself during morning practice and slips a piece of paper into a beat-up locker.
Eddie you’re really pretty i wish i could tell you to your face -H
He signed the note with his last initial to be a bit more inconspicuous and perhaps give him some plausible deniability lest he be found out. He’s sure he’s being too precautious - paranoid? - but it gives him peace of mind nonetheless. He couldn’t imagine the dreadful things that would happen if someone traced this back to him. He’d have to run away.
He’d have to kill himself.
As much as he wants to, Steve doesn’t hang around Eddie’s locker to see his reaction. Though he does think about it all morning. They don’t have class together until later in the day. When the lunch bell rings, Steve has to force himself to make his way through the halls at an acceptable pace and pats himself on the back when the cafeteria is mostly full when he strides in.
He takes his place at the table where all of the more athletically inclined people tend to congregate and takes a deep breath.
When he chances a look, Eddie is already at the head of his table. He seems quieter than normal. Steve’s always been good at reading people and he can tell the difference between a good quiet and a bad quiet. Eddie’s quiet in a bad way.
He languidly flips through a book with a faraway contemplative look.
Steve looks away with a ghost of a frown on his face.
He tries again the next day.
Eddie i like your hair is it as soft as it looks? p.s. you didn’t look happy yesterday, sorry if it was my fault -H
That day at lunch, Steve doesn’t look at Eddie as frequently as he usually would, which is unfortunate.
Eddie has taken to scanning the lunchroom with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest and despite him being affronted, Steve can’t help but think he’s kinda cute.
He smiles to himself and tries to listen to his friends for once to aid in avoiding Eddie’s gaze.
two
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#you can pry secret admirer fics from my cold dead hands#is this worth a part 2?#suicide mention#just one line
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the school district i work for gave staff a stipend a while ago under the condition that if you quit before the end of the school year you have to pay it back…
i wanna start a gofundme or something so i can buy my way out of here
#y’all im so sick of it#90% of the people here piss me off#and that’s just staff#and like#i dont hate kids#but some of these kids are willingly choosing to misbehave#and its not just the like class clowning around or anything#like two kids were arguing today#tw abuse mention#and one of them shouted across the classroom#and he said this is why your dad abuses you#like holy shit#you’re 10#that was at 8:45 am#and thats the TAME shit that gets said here#kids have said and done shit here that genuinely makes me fear for my safety in this building#i do a job and a half becuase the other woman in my position doesn’t do anything#i frequently moniter a full cafeteria by myself#if a physical fight breaks out#which it has and will#i’m not big enough to separate two kids on my own#i’m assigned to 6 rooms and teachers who aren’t on my list will call me because the other lady doesn’t help them#this is only a fraction of it#i’m so done#but i’m broke#i’ve got like two months left#so we’ll see how it goes i guess#tw violence mention#tw fighting#tw school mention
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When you were taken by your original world and sent into some kind of ancient China, full of demons and monsters, you weren't exactly sure why you were supposed to assist the "Destined one." Damn, you didn't even know how this.
When you find out that this destiny one was some kind of successor of Sun Wukong, saying that you were surprised was a joke.
His eyes scrutinized you; they were dark with a tint of gold when the light stricked them. He silently circled you, creating some distance between you, himself, and the other monkeys, curious about the mortals that presented themselves on their mountain.
Every time you tried to keep some distance, he was ready to close it enough to never leave his sight. What a strange situation, and what strange creature was sent to him just at the dawn of his journey.
The stories portrayed Wukong, as the name says, as a monkey kind of guy: cheerful, ready to make some jokes, who liked to make fun of people and laugh. And yet, the destined one was nothing like this trope.
He was composed, serious, and always straight forward. It was like he decided to expel every fun side from him in order to fulfill his duty.
Despite that, he showed more side to you: he was caring, trying to understand your confusion and fear while in a new world, always remembering to keep your peace while walking to make sure that you didn't get lost around. He was your protector, always ready to strike at every danger, and a good friend in the moment of agony.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't cry for these things, but... I'm sorry, so sorry."
You missed home. You never could believe yourself, but you missed your monothone and unsavory life. You missed waking up, going to walk, listening to endless hours of your boss rumbling—you missed even the crappy food of the cafeteria!
Everything seems so far away, without hope of reaching it. And you felt like trash because he was the one that was there to listen. You felt ashame, ashame of the fact that you were there complaining about what you lost while he was there fighting for both of you. You tried to cover your eyes, holding your breath to calm down, but nothing worked at all.
A stream of tears keeps on crashing down, hiccups escaping your lungs without stop.
Then, you felt his arms—two pairs of strong and soft arms, protecting your now vulnerable state from everything and everyone. His tail followed his gesture, keeping you in place and warm—so warm.
"Please." His high peech voice is now reduced to a whisper. "Don't hold it. Don't hold the pain. I can't see you like this. Please, whatever cloud your heart, speak to me."
Soon, you both became inseparable. You followed him like a shadow, carrying pills and balms, making plans with him for your next move. Damn, even Bajie couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you behind the monkey, a little afraid of the newcomer of the group.
You weren't anymore just some random mortal the Destined one had found and kept at his tail; now you were the Destined done caompanion and trusted friend. His journey became your journey, and his task your task. You both became bound by a silent vow.
"Say...why don't you choose a name? A real one this time."
"I never thought about it." He started to play with a leaf fallen from the nearby tree, thinking about your new idea.
You reached his side, holding his hand in yours, caressing the black claws on it. Once those scared you, now you wonder if a nice manicure could make them look prettier than now.
"Well, you can't let me call you Destined One or Monkey forever! You need a proper name! Something nice! ...umm...how about... Yuánfèn?"
"Um? Since when can you name people here?"
"Well," you continued, "it's destiny in Chinese, no? Like..fate!"
He looked at you, then laughed between his teeth a little. "There's no difference in how they usually call me then!"
"Yes, but...this is how I call you! So is different!"
Soon, you start to not miss home that much. You start to hope to be closer to him—to not go back. You hope that, after your honeymoon, you can stay together and that, despite all, there can be a happy ending for both of you. And silently, in his head, he hoped that too.
"May i?"
He gave you his silent consent, allowing you to caress his cheek with your so small fingers. Your lips met his own, your gesture so timid and gentle that you ask yourself if it's still a small image in your mind instead of something that you're actually doing now. He hasn't moved an inch; confusion starts to come to him and yourself, to the point that you need to stop. Now you just feel ashamed; you felt that you crossed a line, and now you don't even know if you can even go back.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
A small shush from him, his finger holding your chin and guiding you against him. This time, he's trying to mimic your gesture, a blush forming from his face to the visible part of his ears. His kiss is trembling but fierce. He waited long enough to see your still puzzled face.
"I...may don't get how you did it...Can you show me...again, please?"
You don't need to let him ask again; soon your lips smash together again, showing him exactly what's happening.
Your fate is sealed with that kiss, and there's no force on heaven and earth to undo it.
@sun-jglim
#black myth wukong#sun wukong#wukong#sun wukong x reader#wukong x reader#sun wukong x oc#wukong x oc#sun wukong x y/n#jttw#journey to the west#jttw sun wukong#isekai
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I Let The World Burn For You - N.R | Part 1
P: Serial Killer!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Graphic Descriptions, Murder, Manipulation, Attempted Murder, Injury/Blood, Teasing, Angst, Obsessive Behaviour, Mind Games, Ni-ki is a nerd.
Synopsis: You’ve always loved crime shows, captivated by the mystery and mind games, but you never expected to live in one. When a killer develops an unsettling obsession with you, you’re thrust into a deadly game where you’re not just a target—you’re the centerpiece.
Wordcount: 27k
a/n: HELLO! TUMBLR!? Since i cant have more then 1k blocks i had to split this in 2 parts! LET ME WRITE LONG FICS! PLS! ugh.. (i kept replaying the apparation by sleeptoken while writing :p) hope yall enjoy another dark romance with obsessed yet super whipped Ni-ki! ( he kinda a red flag)
See request here
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You’ve always had a fascination with crime shows. The ones without too many jump scares or unnecessary gore—you could do without that. What hooked you wasn’t the blood or the screams; it was the puzzle. The way the police pieced together scattered fragments of a life, how they followed the tiniest trail of evidence to unravel the truth. Every crime media you could find, you devoured it all.
At school, it wasn’t unusual to find you with your nose buried in a crime or mystery novel. Whether it was during lunch, in the corner of the library, or even in the few precious minutes before class started, the worn pages of your current read were always in your hands. Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie, modern thrillers—you read them all.
Your classmates noticed, of course. They’d whisper about it in passing, sometimes teasing you for being "obsessed with murder books." But you didn’t care. If anything, you found their reactions amusing. They didn’t get it, didn’t understand how fascinating it was to try to outsmart the characters or piece together clues before the story revealed its secrets. Even your teachers started catching on. Your literature professor once quipped, “If I ever go missing, I’ll trust you to solve the case,” while glancing at the battered mystery novel lying atop your open notebook.
But it wasn’t just about books or shows anymore. Over time, the skills you picked up seeped into your daily life. You’d notice things—details others overlooked. A friend’s new haircut no one mentioned, the faint smell of smoke lingering on someone’s jacket, or the way people’s stories didn’t quite line up. You’d trained your brain to analyze, to question, to search for answers.
You didn’t really have anyone to share your interest with, but that didn’t bother you much. Most people at school had their own cliques, their own hobbies, and their own little dramas to focus on. You didn’t fit neatly into any of those circles, but you were fine with that.
Besides, there was something satisfying about keeping to yourself. It gave you the freedom to observe without distraction. People-watching became second nature—catching snippets of conversations, noticing who avoided who in the hallways, or piecing together which classmates had paired off in secret. It was like the school was its own crime scene, full of tiny, inconsequential mysteries that no one else even thought to notice.
You had your theories about everyone, from the student council president who always left early on Thursdays to the quiet kid in the back row who seemed to have a different excuse for every missing assignment. None of it was malicious, of course—it was just your way of passing the time.
But every so often, you’d catch someone watching you. A fleeting glance from across the cafeteria or a pair of eyes lingering a little too long in the hallway.
But every time you tried to figure out who it was, the moment would pass too quickly. You’d glance up, scanning the crowd, but no one would be looking your way. It was frustrating in a way that didn’t make sense, like trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces.
And yet, the gaze itself was never uncomfortable. It didn’t feel like the sharp, judgmental stares you were used to when people whispered about your “murder books.” No, this one was different. It was soft, almost curious, like whoever it was didn’t want to disturb you. Instead of making you uneasy, it left a warmth in its wake, a strange flutter in your chest that lingered long after the moment passed.
You started to notice it more often. In the cafeteria, during assemblies, even on the rare occasions when you’d glance up from your book in the library. It was subtle, just a sense that someone was watching, but every time you turned your head to catch them, they were gone.
It became a mystery of its own, one you couldn’t quite let go of. You tried to piece it together the way you would in a show or a novel. Who sat near you at lunch? Who crossed paths with you between classes? Who could have that kind of presence without you noticing until it was too late?
But no matter how much you thought about it, you came up empty. And the strangest part was, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to solve it. Because, in some inexplicable way, that gaze felt… safe. Like someone had taken the time to notice you—not as the “girl with the crime books,” but as you.
Still, the curiosity gnawed at you. One day, as you sat in your usual spot by the library window, lost in a particularly tense chapter of your latest read, you felt it again. That quiet, steady gaze, warm and unhurried.
This time, you didn’t look up right away. Instead, you waited, letting the feeling settle over you like a blanket. You turned the page of your book slowly, pretending to stay engrossed, all while your pulse quickened in anticipation.
And then, with deliberate calm, you lifted your head and scanned the room.
At first, it seemed like every other time. Just a sea of faces, none of them focused on you. But then, in the far corner, you caught it—a pair of eyes meeting yours before quickly looking away.
Your heart stuttered. You knew that face.
You knew that face because it belonged to Nishimura Ni-ki. Quiet, unassuming, always with his head buried in a textbook or his notebook. You hadn’t talked much, only exchanging a few words in the classes you shared or the brief, awkward apologies after he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway, scrambling to pick up his scattered books. He wasn’t exactly invisible, but he never drew attention to himself—not in the way others did.
But you also knew him for another reason. Nishimura Ni-ki was the campus prime target for bullying.
You hated seeing it. The way some of the guys would shove him into lockers, muttering cruel things under their breath loud enough for him to hear. The way others would snatch his things, throw them across the hall, or crumple his assignments into balls of paper. Worst of all was the day you saw someone snap his glasses clean in half, right in front of him, leaving him standing there, helpless and humiliated.
Without even thinking, you had stepped in. No hesitation, no second thought—you just swung. Your fist connected with the guy’s face, the sickening crack of his nose breaking echoing in the hallway. Everything had gone silent. People stared as you shook out your knuckles, glaring down at the guy as he clutched his face, blood pouring between his fingers.
Sure, you got suspended for a few days after that, but it had been worth it.
From that day on, you’d kept an eye out—not just for Ni-ki, but for anyone being harassed. You couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand the way some people seemed to think they had a right to make others miserable just because they could. But with Ni-ki, it was different. Something about the way he’d looked at you that day—wide-eyed, stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe someone had stood up for him—it stuck with you.
After that, you noticed him more often. Sitting alone in the library, his hair falling into his eyes as he scribbled notes. Walking to class with his close-knit group of friends, smiling faintly at something one of them said. And now, you realized, he was quietly watching you.
Your stomach flipped as your eyes locked with his for the briefest moment before he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the open book in front of him. You hadn’t even realized he knew who you were, let alone that he’d been the one watching you all this time.
For a moment, you sat frozen, unsure what to do. Then, on impulse, you stood up, tucking your book under your arm as you made your way across the library.
Ni-ki didn’t notice you at first. He was scribbling something in the margins of his notebook, his brows furrowed in concentration. But when you stopped in front of his table, he glanced up, and his eyes widened.
“Hey,” you said, keeping your voice low to avoid disturbing the others. “Got room for one more?”
His gaze darted to the empty chair across from him, then back to you. For a moment, he looked like he might say no. But then he nodded, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice quiet but steady. “Sure.”
You slid into the seat, setting your book down on the table. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken question. But it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… comfortable.
You sat there for a while, the silence punctuated only by the faint scratch of Ni-ki’s pencil against his notebook and the soft rustle of turning pages. But your curiosity wouldn’t let you sit still for long. You closed your book, leaning forward slightly.
“Can I ask you something?” you said, keeping your voice low.
Ni-ki looked up from his notes, his pencil pausing mid-word. His expression was cautious, unsure, but he nodded. “Yeah?”
“Why were you looking at me earlier?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s not the first time, is it?”
His eyes widened, and a faint flush crept up his neck. “Oh, I—uh…” He trailed off, fumbling for words. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off or deny it entirely. But then he exhaled and gave a small, sheepish shrug. “I’ve seen you reading crime novels. A lot. And… I like them too.”
You blinked, surprised. “You do?”
He nodded, glancing down at his notebook like he was embarrassed to admit it. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t talk about it much, but I’ve always been into them. Mysteries, thrillers, true crime… all of it. I guess I just noticed because you’re always reading them too.”
A grin spread across your face before you could stop it. “Seriously? I didn’t think anyone else here cared about that stuff.”
Ni-ki’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, well… it’s not exactly the kind of thing people talk about, you know? But I’ve always thought it was cool—how detectives figure everything out, all the little clues coming together.”
“Exactly!” you said, leaning forward a little more, your excitement bubbling over. “That’s the best part. Like, the story’s great and all, but the process of solving it? The way everything clicks in the end? It’s so satisfying.”
His smile widened, and for the first time, he looked genuinely at ease. ���Right? And when you figure it out before the characters do? That’s the best feeling.”
You nodded eagerly, the conversation flowing effortlessly now. You started swapping favorite books and shows, debating the best fictional detectives and the most clever twists you’d seen. Ni-ki talked about his love for true crime documentaries, how he’d binge-watch them whenever he had a free weekend. You shared your obsession with whodunits, confessing how you’d pause episodes just to try to solve the case before the big reveal.
Time slipped by without you realizing it. The library around you faded into the background as you talked, your usual quiet demeanor replaced by the spark of shared enthusiasm. Ni-ki was surprisingly easy to talk to, his reserved nature melting away as the two of you bonded over your mutual love for crime stories.
At some point, you glanced at the clock and realized lunch was almost over. You sighed, reluctantly closing your book. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up later. I’ve got class.”
Ni-ki nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—disappointment, maybe? It was subtle, but you caught it.
“Hey,” you said as you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “We should talk more about this sometime. Maybe… tomorrow?”
His gaze snapped up to yours, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe you were serious. Then he nodded, his smile small but genuine. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
You grinned and gave him a quick wave before heading toward the door.
The rest of the day felt oddly brighter. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but something about that conversation with Ni-ki lingered with you. Maybe it was because you’d finally found someone who shared your interest, someone who didn’t just dismiss it as “weird” or “creepy.” Or maybe it was because, for the first time, Ni-ki hadn’t seemed like the quiet, distant figure you’d always known him as. He felt… real.
The next day, you found yourself scanning the library during lunch without even thinking about it. And sure enough, there he was—sitting at the same table, his notebook open in front of him, scribbling something in his neat handwriting.
You hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling a little nervous. What if he thought yesterday was a one-time thing? What if he wasn’t expecting you to actually show up? But then he looked up, and the moment his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a small but unmistakable smile.
That was all the invitation you needed. You crossed the room and slid into the seat across from him, setting your bag down beside you.
“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual.
“Hey,” he replied, his tone soft but warm.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to pick up where you’d left off. You talked about the book you were reading, how the protagonist was struggling to crack a seemingly unsolvable case. Ni-ki listened intently, occasionally chiming in with his own thoughts or theories. When it was his turn, he shared about a true crime documentary he’d started the night before.
As the days went by, it became a routine. Every lunch break, you’d find each other in the library, your conversations growing longer and more animated. What started as casual chats about crime novels and documentaries quickly expanded into other topics—favorite genres, books you’d loved as kids, even the little quirks you’d noticed about your classmates.
Ni-ki opened up more than you ever expected. You learned that he loved puzzles, that he had a knack for spotting patterns and solving problems. He admitted, almost shyly, that he wanted to be a forensic scientist someday, to solve real-life mysteries.
You told him about your fascination with detective work, how you’d always loved the idea of uncovering the truth. You joked that maybe you’d end up as a detective yourself one day, solving cases while he analyzed the evidence. He laughed at that, a soft, genuine sound that you realized you wanted to hear more of.
“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
You looked up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I just… I wanted to say thanks,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes. “For, you know… sticking up for me. Back then. And now.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Ni-ki. No one deserves to be treated like that.”
He nodded, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “I know, but… it meant a lot. And so does this. Talking to you, I mean. It’s… nice.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the same kind you’d felt every time you caught him watching you. “It’s nice for me too,” you admitted, offering him a small smile.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft and almost… hopeful. Then he nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.
“Of course,” you said, already looking forward to it.
--
You and Ni-ki walked side by side down the hallway, the buzz of students heading to their next class filling the air. He was carrying a few books in his arms, his notebook precariously balanced on top, while the two of you chatted about your plans for the day.
“I’ve got a project due for history,” you said, groaning. “I’ll probably be stuck in the library all afternoon. What about you?”
“Studying for the calculus test,” Ni-ki replied with a faint smile. “Though, knowing me, I’ll still probably bomb it.”
“You won’t,” you assured him. “You just need to stop doubting yourself so much.”
He chuckled softly at that, and the sound was warm—genuine. You had started to notice these little things about him, the way he opened up a bit more when it was just the two of you.
As you reached your classroom door, you slowed to a stop, turning to face him. “Alright, this is me. I’ll see you at lunch later?”
“Yeah, I’ll—”
Before Ni-ki could finish his sentence, someone shoved him hard from behind. He stumbled forward, dropping his books as he fell onto his knees. His notebook skidded across the floor, pages fluttering.
“Oops,” the voice sneered mockingly from behind. “Didn’t see you there, nerd.”
You whipped around, your blood instantly boiling. It was one of the usual suspects—one of the guys who seemed to make it his personal mission to make Ni-ki’s life miserable. His smug smirk widened as he stood there, hands in his pockets, his posture radiating mock innocence.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, your voice echoing in the hallway.
The guy raised an eyebrow, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax, it was an accident.”
“Accident, my ass,” you shot back, stepping forward. “You’ve got the brainpower of a rock, but even you know how to avoid people in a hallway.”
A few students nearby paused to watch, their conversations trailing off as they sensed the tension.
The guy’s smirk faltered for a second, his eyes narrowing. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “You’ll try to push me too? Let’s see how far you get.”
He opened his mouth, likely to hurl an insult your way, but before he could get the words out, a stern voice interrupted.
“Is there a problem here?”
A teacher had appeared at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, eyes flicking between you, Ni-ki, and the bully.
The guy immediately straightened, his smugness replaced with a fake innocence. “No problem, sir. Just a little accident.”
The teacher’s eyes lingered on him for a moment, skeptical but unwilling to escalate without proof. “Then I suggest you keep moving before you’re late to class.”
The bully muttered something under his breath and stalked off, throwing one last glare over his shoulder. You glared right back until he disappeared into the crowd.
With the hallway clearing, you turned back to Ni-ki, who was still on the ground, gathering his books with a quiet, resigned expression. You knelt down beside him, helping him scoop up his notebook and a few loose papers.
“You okay?” you asked softly, handing him the last of his things.
He nodded, though his cheeks were flushed, not from the fall but from the embarrassment of it all. “Yeah. Thanks.”
You stood and offered him your hand. He hesitated for a moment before taking it, and you pulled him to his feet.
“Don’t let jerks like that get to you,” you said firmly, your voice softer now. “He’s just miserable with his own life, so he’s trying to make you feel the same way. But he doesn’t get to win.”
Ni-ki’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles as he adjusted the books in his arms. “I’m starting to think you like fighting my battles more than I do.”
You laughed, nudging his arm lightly. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”
The bell rang just as you and Ni-ki made your way to your separate classes.
You sank into your seat, the dull buzz of the classroom settling around you as your mind wandered back to what had just happened. You hated seeing that side of Ni-ki dimmed by people who had nothing better to do than pick on someone who kept to himself.
Your teacher walked in, and the usual routine of class began. You tried to focus, taking notes, participating when necessary, but it was hard to shake off the image of Ni-ki being knocked down again. Even harder, was knowing that no matter how much you tried to defend him, the cycle would probably continue.
It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the way people like that bully operated—people who picked on others because they could, because it was easier to tear someone else down than deal with their own problems. What pissed you off was that Ni-ki never seemed to ask for help. He didn’t fight back, didn’t make a scene, and kept everything buried under that quiet, almost invisible demeanor of his.
You didn’t know why you cared so much. Maybe it was because he was finally someone who shared your interests, someone who didn’t see you as weird or obsessive for reading crime novels or binge-watching shows about detectives. Or maybe it was because, for the first time in a long while, you found someone you didn’t mind looking out for.
The rest of class passed by in a blur, and when the bell rang again, signaling the end of the period, you packed up your things quickly, eager to catch up with Ni-ki.
You hadn’t seen him on your way out, but he wasn’t hard to find. When you stepped out into the hall, you spotted him near his locker, his back slightly hunched as he rifled through his bag. He looked like he was in his own world, eyes focused on something only he could see.
You walked up to him, your footsteps steady.
“You good?” you asked, breaking the silence.
Ni-ki turned slightly, startled for a moment. When he saw it was you, the tension in his shoulders visibly loosened. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. “Thanks again for earlier. You didn’t have to do that.”
You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It’s not a big deal. He’s just a jerk. Besides, if no one stands up for you, who will?”
Ni-ki didn’t answer right away. He just stared at you for a moment, as if weighing your words. After a long pause, he gave a small, almost shy smile. “I guess… I’ve never really thought about it like that.”
“Well, now you know,” you said with a grin. “If you ever need backup, I’m around.” You tried to keep your tone light, but there was a quiet sincerity in it.
Ni-ki nodded, his expression softening, as if he were grateful, but unsure how to show it. “Thanks. I… I appreciate it.”
The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class, and you both turned to head in opposite directions. You glanced back at him before walking away, feeling that familiar pull of wanting to make sure he was okay.
Over the next few days, you found yourself in more and more situations where people were picking on Ni-ki, or even just others around campus. It wasn’t always the same faces; sometimes it was a random group, sometimes it was a repeat offender. But every time, you couldn’t just walk by.
One afternoon, you were heading toward the library when you spotted a couple of guys standing by the lockers. One of them had his hands shoved into Ni-ki’s chest, laughing as he made some cruel remark about Ni-ki’s glasses being too big for his face. Ni-ki’s eyes were lowered, his shoulders tense, his voice barely a whisper as he tried to back away, but the guys weren’t letting him go.
Without thinking, you rushed forward, your heart pounding in your chest. “Hey!” you called out, your voice cutting through the laughter. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
The guys turned to face you, their expressions mocking. “Oh, look, it’s the weird kid who’s always reading those detective books,” one of them sneered. “What, you gonna cry for him too?”
You didn’t flinch. “I’ll cry if it means you get a reality check. You think picking on people makes you cool? It doesn’t.”
The bully smirked, stepping closer. “Maybe you should mind your own business, huh? No one cares what you think.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” you snapped, standing your ground. “I do care. And I don’t let people get away with treating others like crap. So if you’ve got a problem with him, you’ve got a problem with me.” You took a step forward, matching his arrogance with a calm confidence. “Go ahead, say something back. I dare you.”
The guy’s face twisted in frustration, but before he could retort, another voice interrupted.
“Is there a problem here?” A teacher had appeared, walking briskly down the hall with an authoritative presence.
The bully shot one last glance at you, a sneer still hanging on his lips, before muttering, “Whatever, it’s just a joke.”
“Then keep your ‘jokes’ to yourself,” you said, watching as he slinked off with his friend in tow.
As the tension cleared, you turned to Ni-ki, who was standing there, still looking a little shell-shocked. He didn’t speak for a moment, just staring at you like you had just pulled him out of the depths of something he didn’t know how to escape.
“You alright?” you asked quietly, your voice softer now.
Ni-ki nodded slowly, though he still looked like he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I—I’m fine. Thanks again. But you really didn’t have to do that.”
“I did,” you said, giving him a smile. “I don’t let people get away with stuff like that. You deserve better than being treated like that, and so does everyone else.”
Ni-ki’s eyes met yours for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind them before he spoke. “Maybe… maybe I don’t know how to stand up for myself the way you do.”
“That’s alright,” you said with a shrug. “Not everyone does. But it’s not too late to start.”
As the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you both began walking toward your next classes. You could feel his presence beside you, his quiet thanks still lingering in the air, but it didn’t feel awkward. You had his back, and that was what mattered.
You didn’t always receive praise for standing up to people. You didn’t always get the support you might’ve hoped for. Sometimes you’d get the sneers and judgment from those who didn’t understand, those who thought that letting things slide or keeping their heads down was the easier way to go.
But you didn’t care.
You didn’t care about the sideways glances, or the occasional whispered insults behind your back. You couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
And if that meant dealing with the backlash, so be it. You’d rather face that than let someone else feel alone.
A few days later, you woke up feeling off—head throbbing, throat scratchy, and your body aching like you'd been hit by a truck. You groaned, pulling yourself out of bed only to immediately collapse back under the covers. The thought of going to school was unbearable, and you knew you needed rest more than anything else.
The absence of the usual noise from school made everything feel stiller, emptier. It was a strange feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be there to keep an eye out for Ni-ki, to have his back in the way you had grown accustomed to.
That afternoon, the day passed slowly, and you spent most of it in and out of sleep. When you checked your phone again later, you saw that Ni-ki had sent another message: "Is everything okay? Haven't seen you today."
You smiled at his concern, typing back, "Yeah, just sick. I'll be back soon, don’t worry."
The next few days were rougher than you’d expected. What you thought was just a mild bug turned into a fever that left you bedridden. You tried to keep up with school through messages from classmates and the occasional email from teachers, but your energy was practically nonexistent.
Ni-ki checked in on you every day, like clockwork. His texts were short and to the point, but they carried a warmth that made you smile despite your pounding headache.
"Feeling any better today?" "Don’t push yourself, okay?" "I can drop off notes if you need them."
You’d chuckle at the last one, imagining Ni-ki walking up to your door with a stack of papers and books. "Thanks, but I’ll survive. Just focus on yourself," you’d reply, even though you appreciated the thought more than you could express.
Despite his reassurances that everything was fine, you couldn’t help but worry. Ni-ki wasn’t exactly the type to tell you if something was wrong, especially when it came to the bullies. The thought of him being alone, enduring their usual torment without you there to step in, gnawed at the edges of your mind.
By the third day, your fever started to break, and you felt well enough to sit up and respond to messages without immediately passing out. You sent Ni-ki a text: "How’s school been?"
A few minutes passed before his reply came in. "Same as always. Don’t worry about me."
You frowned. That was exactly the kind of response you’d been expecting—and dreading.
"You sure? No one’s bothering you?"
The three little dots indicating he was typing popped up, then disappeared, then reappeared again. Finally, he sent: "I’m fine. Just come back soon, okay?"
You stared at the screen for a long moment, conflicted. On one hand, you knew Ni-ki well enough by now to recognize when he wasn’t telling you the whole truth. On the other hand, pushing him for answers over text wouldn’t get you anywhere.
"I will," you typed back. "Just hang in there."
When you finally returned to school a few days later, you felt a strange mixture of relief and unease. As much as you hated being away, a small part of you worried about what you’d find when you got back.
Walking through the hallways felt like stepping into a space that had shifted slightly in your absence. You noticed the usual groups clustered together, their laughter echoing through the halls. But as your eyes scanned the crowd, you couldn’t find Ni-ki anywhere.
When you reached your locker, you spotted one of his friends—someone you’d occasionally seen him study with. You hesitated before calling out, “Hey, have you seen Ni-ki?”
The guy looked up, his face shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. “He’s in the library,” he said after a moment. “He’s been there a lot lately.”
You nodded, thanking him before heading in that direction. The library was quieter than usual, the muffled hum of voices and the faint rustle of pages filling the air. It didn’t take long to spot Ni-ki, sitting at a table in the far corner, his head down as he scribbled something into a notebook.
“Ni-ki,” you called softly as you approached.
He looked up, and for a split second, relief flashed across his face. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual reserved expression. “Hey,” he said, closing his notebook and sitting up straighter. “You’re back.”
“I am,” you said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. “What’s been going on? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I know that’s not true.”
Ni-ki hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the corner of his notebook. “It’s… not a big deal,” he finally said, his voice low. “Just the usual stuff.”
Your jaw tightened. You’d expected as much, but hearing it still made your blood boil. “What happened?”
He sighed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “They’ve just been… pushing things a little more since you weren’t here. It’s fine, though. I’m used to it.”
“Used to it doesn’t make it okay,” you said firmly. “Did anyone step in? Tell a teacher? Anything?”
Ni-ki shook his head. “No one really noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t care.”
Your fists clenched under the table. It was exactly what you’d feared, and it only made you more determined. “Well, I’m back now,” you said, your voice steady. “And they’re not getting away with it anymore. Not while I’m around.”
Ni-ki looked at you, a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe—crossing his face. “You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” he said quietly. “Standing up for me all the time. It’s not your responsibility.”
“It’s not about responsibility,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “I want to stand up. And no one deserves to feel like they’re alone in this.”
“Thanks,” Ni-ki said eventually, his voice barely above a whisper.
You gave him a small smile. “Anytime.”
--
It started out subtly—so subtle, in fact, that you almost missed it the first few times. You’d grown so used to being the one to step in, to speak up, to push back when people crossed the line with Ni-ki, that it became instinctive. But recently, before you could even open your mouth or move to intervene, something in Ni-ki’s demeanor had started to change.
The next time someone shoved him in the hallway, you caught it. The twist in his face.
It wasn’t the usual resignation or silent frustration you’d seen before. No, this was different. His jaw tightened, his eyes sharp and focused, his posture just a fraction straighter. He still stumbled when they shoved him, still dropped his books, but there was a flicker of defiance there—a spark you hadn’t noticed before.
“Watch where you’re going, idiot,” one of the bullies muttered, smirking as they turned to walk off.
But before you could even step in, Ni-ki straightened up, brushing himself off. His voice was quiet but firm as he said, “Maybe you should watch where you’re going.”
It wasn’t loud, and it certainly wasn’t a full-on confrontation, but it was enough to make the bully pause for a moment, glancing back over their shoulder with narrowed eyes. Ni-ki didn’t flinch. He just stared at them, steady and unyielding, until they scoffed and walked away.
You stood frozen for a moment, caught off guard. This wasn’t like him—not the Ni-ki you’d grown used to protecting, the one who usually avoided confrontation at all costs.
“Ni-ki,” you said, catching up to him as he bent down to pick up his books. “What was that?”
He glanced up at you, his expression unreadable. “What was what?”
“That,” you said, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway where the bullies had just left. “You… you stood up for yourself.”
He shrugged, tucking his books under his arm. “Yeah, well… I figured I might as well try it.”
You blinked, surprised by how nonchalant he sounded. “Try it?”
He paused, glancing at you with a small, almost shy smile. “I’ve been watching you, you know. How you don’t let people push you—or anyone else—around. It made me think… maybe I could do that too.”
For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You felt a strange mix of pride and worry bubbling in your chest. Pride, because seeing Ni-ki finally stand up for himself felt like a victory. Worry, because you knew how cruel people could be when they were challenged.
“Well,” you said finally, your voice soft, “I’m glad you’re trying. But you know you don’t have to do it alone, right? I’ve got your back.”
He nodded, his smile growing a little. “I know. But… it feels kind of good. Not letting them have all the power.”
From that day on, you started noticing it more often.
The next time someone muttered something cruel under their breath as Ni-ki walked past, he didn’t just look away. He turned, his voice steady as he asked, “What did you just say?” It wasn’t a shout, wasn’t a threat, but the sheer confidence in his tone was enough to catch them off guard.
And the next time someone knocked his books out of his hands, Ni-ki didn’t just bend down to pick them up. He straightened up first, meeting their gaze with an icy calmness that made them hesitate before walking off.
You watched it all unfold with a mixture of admiration and concern.
One afternoon, after class, you found yourself walking with him again, the two of you deep in conversation about one of the crime novels you’d both been reading. As you turned the corner, you saw one of the usual suspects—one of the guys who’d made Ni-ki’s life a nightmare for as long as you could remember.
The guy stepped into Ni-ki’s path, blocking his way. “Hey, got a minute?”
You tensed immediately, ready to step forward, but Ni-ki held up a hand, stopping you.
“What do you want?” Ni-ki asked, his voice calm but firm.
The bully smirked, leaning in closer. “Just wondering how long it’ll take before you crawl back into that little shell of yours. You think you’re tough now? That you’ve got people to back you up?”
Ni-ki didn’t even blink. “I think you’re wasting your time. Find someone else to bother.”
The smirk faltered for just a second, and that was all it took. The bully muttered something under his breath before walking away, clearly annoyed that Ni-ki hadn’t given him the reaction he was hoping for.
As soon as the guy was out of earshot, you turned to Ni-ki, your eyes wide. “Okay, what was that? Who are you, and what have you done with the Ni-ki I know?”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told you, I’ve been watching you. Guess I finally got tired of being the guy everyone picks on.”
You couldn’t help but smile, your chest swelling with pride. “Well, I’m glad you’re finding your voice. Just… don’t get yourself in too much trouble, okay?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, his smile soft but confident. “I know you’ll be there to save me if I do.”
You chuckled at his confidence, feeling that familiar warmth bubble up inside you. “Of course,” you replied. “But remember, you don’t have to rely on me all the time. You’ve got this, Ni-ki.”
He met your gaze, his eyes bright with something that looked almost like gratitude, but with a touch of pride as well. “Maybe. But it feels good knowing I’ve got someone watching my back.”
You nodded, feeling your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just about protecting him anymore—it was about seeing him stand up for himself, to fight back against the people who tried to bring him down. And even though you still couldn’t shake the worry that the bullies would target him more now, you had a feeling that Ni-ki would be okay.
The days that followed were a mix of small victories. You’d catch glimpses of him, the way his posture had changed, the confidence in the way he carried himself. Even when the bullies tried to get under his skin, he seemed to hold his own. And when they tried to escalate things, Ni-ki would either meet them with sharp words or simply walk away with his head held high, no longer letting their insults stick to him.
--
The day started like any other—until you got to school.
The usual buzz of the morning crowd was replaced with an eerie silence. Police cars lined the front of the building, their lights casting flashes of red and blue against the gray morning sky. Students clustered in small groups near the gate, whispering to each other, their faces pale with unease.
You tightened your grip on your bag as you stepped closer, curiosity gnawing at you. Something had happened—something big.
Spotting Natty near the lockers, you hurried over, catching her arm gently. “What’s going on? Why are the police here?”
Natty turned, her expression somber and anxious. “You didn’t hear?”
You shook your head, your stomach twisting. “No. What happened?”
She glanced around nervously before leaning in closer. “Two students have been reported missing,” she said in a low voice.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Missing? Who?”
Natty hesitated, her voice dropping even lower. “It’s those two guys… you know, the ones who usually mess with people. The ones who—”
“The ones who pick on people” you finished for her, your voice barely above a whisper.
She nodded, her expression grim. “Yeah. Them. Apparently, they didn’t come home last night. Their parents called the school this morning, and now the police are involved.”
You stood there, processing her words. The two bullies—known for tormenting Ni-ki and plenty of other students—were missing? The news left you unsettled, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest.
“What do you think happened to them?” you asked, your voice cautious.
Natty shrugged, glancing over at the police officers. “I don’t know. Everyone’s talking about it, but no one seems to know anything for sure. Some people are saying they might’ve run away, but…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“But?”
She leaned in closer, her voice barely audible now. “But people are also saying it doesn’t feel like that. They’re saying it’s... suspicious.”
You frowned, your mind racing. Suspicious. The word lingered in your thoughts like a dark cloud. You couldn’t help but think about Ni-ki—the way he’d started standing up for himself, the way the bullies had been pushing back harder in recent weeks. And now, suddenly, they were gone?
“Do they have any leads?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Natty shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard. The police are just starting their investigation.”
You glanced around, your eyes scanning the crowd. Your thoughts immediately went to Ni-ki. Had he heard about this yet? How was he feeling? You knew the bullies had made his life miserable, but even so, this was… extreme.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” you said, already stepping away.
Natty called after you, “Where are you going?”
“To check on someone,” you replied over your shoulder, your mind set on finding Ni-ki.
You searched the usual spots—the bench near the library, the quiet corner by the art room—but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, you spotted him by the vending machines, standing alone with his hands in his pockets.
“Ni-ki,” you called softly as you approached.
He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Hey.”
“Did you hear?” you asked, lowering your voice.
He nodded, his gaze dropping again. “Yeah. Everyone’s talking about it.”
You studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his emotions. He didn’t look shocked or upset—just… thoughtful.
“How are you feeling about it?” you asked gently.
He shrugged, his voice quiet. “I don’t know. It’s... weird. They were horrible to everyone, but this? It’s… I don’t know.”
You nodded, understanding the conflict in his tone.
“They’ll figure it out,” you said, more to reassure yourself than him. “The police are here, and they’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Ni-ki glanced at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”
You walked side by side with Ni-ki, the buzz of conversations and murmurs about the missing students fading into the background. He didn’t seem as unsettled as you would’ve expected. In fact, he looked… composed. Too composed. There was a calmness about him, a quiet confidence that hadn’t been there before.
It wasn’t like he didn’t care—at least, you didn’t think so. But he wasn’t fidgeting or avoiding the topic like you might have imagined. Instead, he walked with his head held high, his steps deliberate.
You glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood. “You seem… okay about all this,” you said carefully, not wanting to come off as accusing.
Ni-ki shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” you said, tilting your head. “It’s just… two people are missing. People who used to make your life hell, and you don’t look… bothered.”
He stopped walking for a moment, turning to face you. His lips curved into the faintest smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Should I be?”
The question caught you off guard. You blinked, unsure how to respond. “Well, I mean… it’s weird, right? They’re still people. Even if they were awful, it’s not like they deserved to… you know, vanish.”
Ni-ki held your gaze for a moment longer before looking away, his expression unreadable. “I guess I’ve just learned not to waste my energy on people like them,” he said, his voice steady. “They made their choices. It’s not my job to care.”
You frowned, his words sticking with you as you both continued walking. There was something about the way he spoke—calm, measured, almost detached—that made you uneasy. But you didn’t push him further. Ni-ki had grown a lot lately, standing up for himself in ways you hadn’t expected. Maybe this was just part of that change—his way of not letting the past hold power over him anymore.
Still, you couldn’t help but notice how his posture seemed different now. Straighter, more self-assured. He wasn’t the same Ni-ki who used to avoid eye contact in the hallways or flinch at the sound of the bullies’ voices. This Ni-ki was someone who carried himself with quiet confidence, someone who looked like he had nothing to fear.
And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to it. Something he wasn’t saying.
You wanted to ask, to press him for answers, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the way his expression remained calm, as if daring you to question him. Or maybe it was the realization that you weren’t sure you wanted to know.
“Anyway,” Ni-ki said, breaking the silence, “what’s your plan for the rest of the day?”
The abrupt shift in topic caught you off guard, but you decided to go with it. “Not much,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Probably just try to catch up on homework and maybe watch something later.”
He nodded, his smile softening into something more genuine. “Sounds good. Let me know if you find a good mystery to watch.”
“Will do,” you replied, smiling back.
As you parted ways and headed to your respective classes, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. The way he walked, the way he carried himself now—it was almost like he was a completely different person.
And though you didn’t say it out loud, the unease lingered. There was something about Ni-ki that had changed, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. And as much as you wanted to believe it was just confidence.. a small, nagging part of you wondered if it was something more.
After school, you found yourself lingering by the gate, waiting for Ni-ki. You weren’t even sure why. Maybe it was just the need to talk to him again, to see if you could get a better read on what he was thinking.
He appeared a few minutes later, his bag slung over one shoulder and his usual calm expression in place. When he spotted you, his lips twitched into a small smile.
“Waiting for me?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thought we could walk together.”
“Sure,” he said, falling into step beside you.
The walk home started out quiet, the kind of comfortable silence you’d gotten used to with him. But as you neared the park, you couldn’t hold back your curiosity any longer.
“Ni-ki,” you began carefully, “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.”
He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “What about it?”
“About not caring. About how it’s not your job to care about... people like them.” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It just feels like... I don’t know, you’ve changed a lot lately. You’re more confident, and that’s great, but... it’s like you’re not bothered by anything anymore.”
Ni-ki didn’t respond right away. He kept walking, his gaze focused straight ahead, his expression calm. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders rising and falling.
“I guess I just realized there’s no point in letting things get to me,” he said, his tone measured. “People like them... they’re not worth my time. They never were.”
You frowned, your unease growing. “But... don’t you think it’s weird? That they just disappeared like that?”
He stopped walking, turning to face you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something behind his calm exterior. Something darker.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’m not saying anything,” you said quickly, though your heart was racing. “I’m just... curious. That’s all.”
Ni-ki studied you for a moment longer before his expression softened, the faintest smile returning to his lips. “It’s probably nothing,” he said. “People like that... they always have enemies. Maybe someone else decided to deal with them.”
The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. He didn’t sound defensive, or even particularly concerned. If anything, he sounded... amused.
You forced a smile, not wanting to push him further. “Yeah, maybe,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.
Ni-ki started walking again, and you followed, your mind racing with questions you didn’t dare ask.
As the two of you walked further down the quiet street, Ni-ki suddenly turned toward his dorm building, stopping just before the steps. He looked at you with a hint of hesitation, but there was also that hopeful glint in his eyes that always managed to make your heart soften.
“Hey,” he said casually, though his tone had a shy edge. “Do you… maybe want to come up? We could study together or something. I know exams are coming up, and it’s easier with company.”
You hesitated, clutching the strap of your bag. “I don’t know… I should probably just head home and get some rest.”
Ni-ki’s face dropped slightly, and for a second, he looked like he was bracing for you to turn him down. But the way he glanced at you—hopeful and a little nervous—made something inside you falter.
“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. “It’ll be quiet. I promise I won’t distract you too much.”
You looked at him, at the way his bangs fell slightly into his eyes and the way he fidgeted with the strap of his own bag. He looked cute, and there was something so innocent about the way he asked, as if he genuinely just wanted to spend more time with you.
“Alright,” you finally said, relenting with a small smile. “I’ll stay for a little while.”
The way his face lit up made it all worth it. A broad smile spread across his lips, and before you could react, he reached out, his hands gently finding their way to your waist as he guided you toward the door. His touch was firm yet careful, his hands warm even through the fabric of your jacket.
“Come on,” he said, his tone suddenly brighter as he led you inside the building. “It’s not too messy, I promise. Well… not that messy.”
You laughed softly, letting him lead you into the lobby and toward the elevator. There was something about the way he was acting—lighthearted and a little goofy—that made your earlier unease fade just a bit.
When the elevator doors opened, Ni-ki stepped aside to let you in first, his hand briefly brushing against your lower back. He pressed the button for his floor, glancing at you with a grin. “I’ll even let you pick the first topic we study. Fair deal?”
“Deal,” you said, shaking your head at him.
As the elevator climbed, you realized that, despite your earlier hesitation, you didn’t really mind being here with him. There was something comforting about the way Ni-ki treated you, like you were the only person who really mattered to him in that moment.
The elevator dinged, and the two of you stepped out into the hallway. Ni-ki led the way to his room, opening the door with a flourish before stepping aside to let you in.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, gesturing around with a playful smile.
You stepped inside, taking in the neat but lived-in space. His desk was cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, and there were a few random items scattered around—headphones, a hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a half-empty mug on the windowsill.
“It’s cozy,” you said, setting your bag down by the door.
Ni-ki grinned. “That’s code for ‘small,’ isn’t it?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I mean it. It feels… nice.”
“Good,” he said, closing the door behind you. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us some water, and then we can get started.”
As he busied himself in the corner of the room, you took a seat at his desk, letting yourself relax.
And as Ni-ki returned with two glasses of water and a bright smile, you couldn’t help but think that maybe this was exactly what you needed.
Ni-ki handed you a glass of water, his smile warm and genuine, and you took it with a grateful nod. As you both sat down at his desk, the atmosphere felt surprisingly comfortable. The earlier tension had all but faded, replaced by a quiet energy between you two that made everything feel easy.
“So,” Ni-ki began, pulling a notebook toward him, “what subject do you want to start with?” His eyes flickered toward you, waiting for your answer.
You considered for a moment. “I guess… let’s tackle history first? That’s the one I’m struggling with the most.”
“History it is,” Ni-ki agreed, and there was a brief moment of silence as he pulled out his own materials, flipping through pages in his textbook. You glanced at the way he studied—focused but relaxed, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. His brow furrowed just a little when he concentrated, and you found yourself studying him without even realizing it.
He noticed after a second, a slight shift in his posture. “What? Is something wrong?” he asked, glancing up from his book.
“No, no, I was just… thinking.” You gave him a small smile, hoping to ease whatever concern he might have had. “You’re a good study buddy. You’re very… focused.”
Ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I try. It’s just easier when you actually care about what you’re learning, you know?”
You nodded in agreement. The two of you dived into your history notes, bouncing ideas back and forth, helping each other fill in the blanks on a few tricky subjects. The more you talked, the more you realized how much you enjoyed this.
As the hours passed, you found that time seemed to slow down in Ni-ki’s presence. Every now and then, he’d glance up from his book and shoot you a little smile, making it hard to focus on anything else.
By the time you looked at the clock, it had already gotten late. You hadn't realized how much time had passed, so engrossed in studying and talking.
“We should probably call it a night,” you said, stretching your arms above your head.
Ni-ki nodded, though his expression was a little reluctant. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Time really flew by.” He stood up, walking over to the desk and gathering his things. He paused for a moment, glancing back at you. “Thanks for hanging out tonight. It was… really nice.”
You smiled at him, your heart warming at his words. “Of course. I’m glad we did this.”
Ni-ki walked you to the door, his hand brushing yours for a brief moment as he reached for the handle. He opened the door, and as you stepped into the hallway, he stopped you.
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice softer than usual.
You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in question.
“I just wanted to say…” He paused, as if thinking carefully about his words. “I’m glad you’re… in my life. You know, you’ve really made things a lot easier for me.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure how to respond.
“I’m glad, too,” you managed, your voice a little quieter than intended. “I think we make a good team.”
Ni-ki’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile, and something about it made your chest feel lighter. He stepped closer, his hand briefly brushing your arm as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.
You both stood there for a moment, before Ni-ki spoke again, his tone soft but teasing.
“See you tomorrow, then?”
You nodded, feeling the smile tug at your own lips. “See you tomorrow.”
The music in your ears drowned out most of the world around you as you walked through the dark streets, the beat lightening your steps as you bopped your head and hummed softly. It was one of those evenings when the city felt alive but distant, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows against brick walls and sidewalks.
You didn’t notice the loud voice at first, too lost in the rhythm, but as it grew louder, it cut through the music, making you glance to your left. There, leaning against the wall of an old corner store, was a guy from your school.
You recognized him instantly. He was one of those guys who thrived on making others miserable. A bully. Loud, brash, and unapologetic about it. He was talking on his phone, his voice carrying through the quiet street.
When his gaze flicked toward you, you realized you’d been staring for too long. His face twisted in annoyance, and he barked, “What the hell are you looking at?”
Startled, you quickly shrugged, averting your gaze and picking up your pace. You didn’t have time for his nonsense tonight. The plan was simple: get home, maybe text Ni-ki, and bury yourself under your covers.
But you hadn’t made it more than a few steps when the street suddenly fell silent.
It was strange, almost unnerving. You frowned, pulling out one of your earbuds and glancing back over your shoulder.
Your breath caught in your throat.
The guy was still standing there, but something was wrong. His body was stiff, his shoulders trembling, and his head was tilted downward as if he were staring at his chest. Blood. Dark and glistening, it spilled from his mouth and dripped onto the pavement. His phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground.
Your instincts screamed at you to run, to do anything but stay frozen, but your feet refused to move. You could only watch in horror as his wide, terrified eyes met yours.
He tried to say something, his lips moving, but all that came out was a wet, gurgling sound.
And then you saw it.
Behind him, a figure emerged from the shadows, tall and menacing. They wore dark clothes, a hood pulled up to obscure most of their features, but what stood out—what sent chills racing down your spine—was the white mask. A smooth, expressionless face with hollow, soulless eyes staring straight at you.
In their gloved hand, they held a knife, the blade dripping with fresh blood.
Your heart pounded in your chest as panic set in. You were about to scream, about to do anything to snap yourself out of the shock, but the figure stepped forward, their movements deliberate and calm, as if they had all the time in the world.
The bully’s body crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes still locked in an expression of pure fear. The blood pooled beneath him, staining the pavement a deep crimson.
The figure didn’t move toward you—not yet. They just stood there, tilting their head slightly as if studying you, waiting to see what you would do.
Every instinct in your body screamed for you to run, but your legs felt like they were made of lead.
This can’t be real, you thought. This can’t be happening.
But it was. And now, the figure took one slow, deliberate step in your direction.
Run. You had to run. Now.
Your body finally responded, adrenaline flooding your veins as you stumbled backward, nearly tripping over your own feet. You turned and bolted down the darkened street, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The earbuds still dangling from your ears blasted music, a sharp contrast to the pounding of your heartbeat and the terror consuming you.
You didn’t dare look back.
Your feet hit the pavement hard, the sound echoing in the empty streets as you raced forward, unsure of where you were going. The only thought in your mind was get away. The quiet of the street felt suffocating, broken only by the occasional flicker of a streetlight.
But then you heard it.
Footsteps.
Slow, deliberate, and eerily calm.
Whoever they were, they weren’t running—they were following you. Like they knew you couldn’t escape.
You risked a glance over your shoulder, and your stomach dropped. The figure was still there, their white mask glowing faintly under the dim streetlights. They weren’t far, and their steady pace somehow made it worse. They didn’t need to run. They knew they had the upper hand.
“No, no, no...” you whispered to yourself, your voice shaky. You turned a sharp corner into a narrower street, your eyes darting around for any sign of help—a lit window, a passerby, anything. But there was no one. Just endless shadows.
You spotted an alley up ahead and ducked into it, pressing yourself against the wall as you tried to steady your breathing. You ripped your earbuds out, desperate to hear every sound around you.
For a moment, there was silence. The footsteps had stopped.
You strained your ears, listening for any hint of movement. The sound of your own breathing felt deafening in the stillness.
And then, softly, the unmistakable scrape of a shoe against the pavement.
Your heart nearly stopped as you realized they were close—too close.
The figure stepped into the mouth of the alley, their tall silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of a distant streetlight. They turned their head slowly, scanning the space.
You pressed yourself harder against the wall, willing yourself to disappear. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.
But then they tilted their head, and you knew they’d found you.
A sharp wave of panic crashed over you, and before you could think, your legs moved on their own. You bolted deeper into the alley, praying it would lead somewhere—anywhere—but as you reached the end, your heart sank.
A dead end.
You spun around, your back pressed against the cold brick wall as the figure approached, their movements unhurried, deliberate. The knife in their hand gleamed faintly in the dim light, still slick with blood.
“W-what do you want?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands shook as you clenched them at your sides, trying to mask the terror in your chest.
The figure didn’t answer, their masked face tilting slightly as if amused by your fear. The silence between you was suffocating, the sound of your ragged breathing echoing in the narrow alley. You pressed yourself harder against the wall, your body trembling as their slow, deliberate footsteps brought them closer.
“Please,” you tried again, your voice cracking. “I won’t tell anyone. Just—just let me go.”
Still, no response. They stopped just a few feet away, the knife glinting under the faint light. The blade wasn’t just bloodied—it was still dripping. Fresh.
You swallowed hard, your mind racing for a way out. Running wasn’t an option. The alley was too narrow, and they were blocking your only escape.
Then, the figure did something that made your stomach drop. Slowly, they reached up with their free hand and tapped the edge of the mask—right where the mouth would be. A deliberate, mocking gesture.
The message was clear: Don’t scream.
Your body froze as dread sank into your chest.
Your breathing hitched as the figure suddenly surged forward, their free hand grabbing your wrists and slamming them against the cold brick wall. You winced at the force, the impact sending a sharp sting up your arms.
"Let go!" you cried, struggling against their iron grip, but it was no use. Their hands were strong—too strong—and no matter how much you writhed or twisted, you couldn’t break free.
The knife gleamed dangerously close to your side, but it wasn’t moving. Instead, the figure leaned in, their mask mere inches from your face.
“Why are you doing this?” you hissed, your voice shaking but desperate.
They didn’t answer. Instead, they tilted their head, as if observing you up close, and the silent scrutiny sent a shiver down your spine. Their breathing was steady, calm—eerily so, given the situation.
You turned your head away, refusing to meet their hollow gaze, but their grip on your wrists tightened, forcing you to look back at them.
“Stop,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper now. “Please.”
They leaned in even closer, the blank mask filling your vision. The faint scent of something metallic—blood—wafted into your nose, and you froze completely, your body trembling under their hold.
You could feel the faint pressure of their breath through the mask, warm and unnervingly slow.
Then, they did something that made your stomach twist. They tilted their head down slightly, as if inspecting you more closely, and the knife in their other hand gently traced along the brick wall beside your face, the sound sharp and deliberate.
“Why are you so scared?” they finally murmured, their voice low, distorted, and almost playful. The modulated tone sent a chill through your entire body. Your eyes widened at the sound. “Who are you?” you managed to croak, but they ignored your question.
They leaned even closer, their voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve been watching people. Reading their actions. Studying them.”
Your heart stopped. How could they possibly know that?
The knife stopped moving, the tip resting against the wall now as they tilted their head again, as if amused by your reaction.
“You’re just like me,” they murmured, their voice soft but laced with something dangerous. “Aren’t you curious about what happens next?”
The words struck you like a blow, and you felt the air leave your lungs. “I’m nothing like you,” you spat, trying to summon any ounce of courage left in you.
The figure chuckled softly—a sound that was more unsettling than anything else—and finally stepped back, releasing your wrists. You crumpled slightly against the wall, your hands trembling as you pulled them to your chest.
They stood there for a moment, watching you. And then, without a word, they turned and walked away, their figure disappearing into the darkness once more.
You didn’t move, your body frozen in place as your mind raced. Their words echoed in your head.
You’re just like me.
What did they mean?
For a moment, you stood there, too stunned to move, your legs shaking beneath you. The silence in the alley was deafening now, the absence of their presence almost as terrifying as their arrival.
Finally, your body caught up with your mind. You bolted.
You ran down the street, not caring where you were going, your feet pounding against the pavement. Every shadow felt like it was reaching for you, every flicker of light a reminder of that gleaming knife.
When you finally stopped, you realized you were standing in front of your building. Your hands trembled as you fumbled for your keys, barely managing to unlock the door before stumbling inside.
You slammed the door behind you, locking it quickly and leaning against it as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was still racing, and the image of the masked figure burned into your mind wouldn’t leave.
You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your back pressed against the door, fighting to steady your breath. The air in the hallway was suffocating, the stillness unnerving. Your pulse thudded in your ears, too loud, too fast, as you struggled to ground yourself in reality.
The sound of your own heartbeat felt like a drum, drowning out every other noise. You closed your eyes for a moment, willing the panic to subside, but the image of the masked figure—those hollow, unfeeling eyes—kept flashing in your mind. You could almost still feel the coldness of their grip on your wrists, the steel of the knife pressed against the air between you.
No, no, you couldn't think about that. You had to focus on something else.
Your hands were shaking so badly that when you tried to take off your shoes, you nearly tripped over them. You steadied yourself against the wall, reaching for your phone in your pocket. Your hands felt clammy as you unlocked it, eyes scanning the screen. You thought about calling someone—anyone—but who could you even call? You had no idea what just happened, who that person was, or why you were targeted.
You tapped your messages, but the familiar names on your screen did little to comfort you. Your fingers hovered over Ni-ki’s name for a moment, but you hesitated. You didn’t want to scare him. What would you even say?
You knew he’d be worried, and maybe that’s exactly what you needed. But not yet.
You let out a long, shaky breath, and after a moment of indecision, you tucked the phone back into your pocket. You needed to calm down. You couldn’t let yourself spiral.
Your eyes flicked to the window, the dim glow from the streetlights casting long shadows into the room. Every movement, every flicker of light outside seemed to twist your nerves tighter. You felt like you were being watched.
Was it paranoia?
You couldn’t stay locked inside forever. But you couldn’t leave either. Not now.
You walked to the window and pulled the blinds slightly aside, peering out. The street below was quiet, eerily so. But there was something off about it now. Something unsettling.
Was this your fault? Was it something you'd done or seen that made you a target?
You flinched as your phone buzzed in your pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, but when you checked, it was just a message from Yuna—nothing urgent. You let out a breath of relief, your hands still trembling slightly.
You wanted to scream. To make sense of it all. But something told you that doing so would only make things worse.
--
The next morning, you woke up to a sense of dread still hanging in the air, the events from last night haunting your every thought. You had barely slept, every small noise in the dark sending your heart into a frantic beat. As you stumbled out of bed, you tried to shake the feeling off, but it lingered like a shadow.
You grabbed your phone, your fingers trembling slightly as you scrolled through your notifications. And then, your stomach dropped.
The headline was everywhere.
Student Found Murdered in Alley; Police Investigating
You stared at the screen, the words blurring as you read and reread the article, your hands shaking. They had found the body of the guy from last night—the one who had been leaning against the wall when the figure had attacked him. Blood had poured from his mouth just before the figure disappeared into the shadows.
But now he was dead.
The report didn’t offer many details yet, but the police were investigating, and they had a few leads—seeing if they found any potential witnesses. You clenched your fists, a sick feeling bubbling in your stomach as you read the lines again, trying to steady your nerves.
You were a witness.
You were standing right there when it happened, not even ten feet away. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone. The thought of speaking up made your stomach churn. What could you even say? That you’d seen a masked figure with a bloody knife standing over the body, and then you’d just run? That you’d been too scared to do anything but watch?
No, you couldn’t. It felt wrong. Almost like you were too close to the danger.
For a moment, you thought about calling Ni-ki. He’d want to know. He’d be concerned. But even the thought of telling him made you hesitate. You didn’t want to burden him with this. And besides, you didn’t even know what to say to him. How would he react?
Something inside you whispered that it was better to stay quiet. For now, at least. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was guilt. But you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that speaking out would only make things worse.
As you turned off your phone and got ready for school, the weight of the secret pressed down on you like an iron fist. The urge to tell someone gnawed at you, but something—maybe self-preservation, maybe the fear of the unknown—stopped you from speaking.
You didn’t know what kind of person that made you, but at that moment, all you could think about was survival.
And that meant staying silent.
You spotted Ni-ki waiting for you near the school gates, his back leaning casually against the wall. At first, you almost didn’t recognize him. Gone were the oversized hoodies and the unassuming posture. Today, he wore a sharp black jacket, his shirt tucked in, and his usually messy hair was swept back, revealing more of his face. The change was striking, and it caught you off guard.
When he saw you approaching, he straightened up, slipping his hands into his pockets with an easy confidence you’d never seen before. There was a glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip.
“Morning,” he greeted smoothly, his tone lighter than usual. His gaze swept over you briefly before he added, “You look cute today.”
The comment hit you like a bolt out of the blue, and you felt your cheeks flush instantly. “W-what?” you stammered, staring at him wide-eyed. Ni-ki wasn’t the type to flirt—or, at least, you didn’t think he was.
He chuckled at your reaction, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “Relax. I’m just being honest.”
You ducked your head, pretending to fumble with your bag to hide the warmth spreading across your face. “Well… thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, trying to compose yourself.
The two of you fell into step together, chatting idly as you walked toward the school building. Ni-ki seemed so at ease, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.
But as the two of you passed through the crowded hallway, you noticed something—every time someone called out to him, a snide remark or a mocking laugh in their tone, Ni-ki’s shoulders would stiffen ever so slightly.
“Hey, Ni-ki, looking sharp today!” someone sneered from behind, the tone far from genuine.
“Trying to impress someone? Not like anyone cares,” another voice added with a laugh.
You glanced over at him, expecting to see some hint of his reaction—annoyance, discomfort, maybe even the faint twist of hurt you used to notice in his expression when he was picked on. But before you could catch anything, Ni-ki turned to you with that same easy smile, his voice light and unaffected.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked as if nothing had happened, steering the conversation effortlessly away from the taunts.
You frowned slightly, feeling like something was off. His smile was convincing, but you knew him well enough to sense that it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something guarded behind that mask of confidence, a wall he didn’t want you—or anyone else—to see behind.
“Are you okay?” you asked carefully, your voice low enough that no one else could hear.
Ni-ki’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—brief, almost imperceptible. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he replied smoothly, tilting his head at you like the question itself was unnecessary.
You wanted to press further, but the bell rang, cutting off any chance of continuing the conversation.
As you headed to class together, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him. Ni-ki had changed—there was no denying that. He seemed stronger, more confident, even… untouchable in a way. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still carrying the weight of what he’d been through.
And as much as you wanted to believe his smile, something in you knew that the Ni-ki you were walking with now wasn’t the same one you’d first met.
The days passed, and Ni-ki’s transformation became even more apparent. He wasn’t just confident now—he was bold, almost playful in the way he interacted with you. And you couldn’t deny the effect it had on you.
“Morning,” he greeted one day, appearing behind you so suddenly that you nearly dropped your books. You turned to glare at him, clutching your chest as your heart raced from the surprise.
“Ni-ki, can you not sneak up on me like that?” you huffed, glaring half-heartedly.
He smirked, leaning down to your eye level, far too close for comfort. “What, can’t handle a little excitement in the morning?” he teased, his voice laced with a softness that made your cheeks burn.
You looked away, muttering under your breath, but it only seemed to amuse him. Without asking, he reached for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey! I can carry my own bag,” you protested, grabbing for the strap.
Ni-ki dodged your hand effortlessly, his smirk growing. “I know. But I want to. Let me be a gentleman for once,” he said, winking at you.
You huffed again, but the way your cheeks warmed betrayed how much it flustered you.
It wasn’t just the small gestures like carrying your bag that got to you. Ni-ki always seemed to know just how to toe the line between teasing and sincere, making your heart race in ways you hadn’t expected. Sometimes, he’d lean casually against the locker next to yours, his proximity far too close to be casual.
“Have you ever read this one?” he asked once, holding out a crime novel you hadn’t even heard of. “I thought of you when I saw it.”
You blinked at the book in his hands, touched by the gesture. “You thought of me?”
He grinned, tilting his head. “Well, yeah. It’s about solving crimes. Sound familiar?”
You tried not to blush at his words, but his teasing gaze made it impossible.
The more time you spent with him, the more you noticed the little things he did—bringing you snacks during breaks, texting you links to new crime documentaries, and inviting you over to his dorm room for movie nights.
Those nights were some of your favorite moments, even if they made you nervous. The two of you would sit close together on the small couch, a bowl of popcorn between you as you watched horror movies. Inevitably, you’d end up dozing off halfway through, only to wake up hours later, cuddled up against his chest.
The first time it happened, you’d pulled away so quickly you nearly fell off the couch. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
Ni-ki just laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s fine. You looked comfortable,” he said, his tone so gentle it made your heart ache.
Still, the memory of waking up to the sound of his steady heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his arms around you, stayed with you long after.
You couldn’t deny how Ni-ki made you feel. His presence was becoming something you looked forward to—his teasing, his warmth, his surprising thoughtfulness.
He was always there—waiting for you by the gates in the morning, walking you to your classes, and staying by your side during breaks. His confidence had grown, but so had his charm. He seemed to know just what to say to make your heart skip a beat, leaving you flustered and unsure how to respond.
One afternoon, the two of you were walking out of the library. Ni-ki was carrying your books again despite your protests, and the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the campus.
“So,” he began, his voice casual but laced with that teasing edge you’d come to expect, “are you ever going to admit you like spending time with me, or do I have to keep carrying your books until you do?”
You turned to him, startled by his boldness, and saw the playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I—what?!”
Ni-ki chuckled, leaning in slightly as he walked beside you. “You heard me,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “You don’t have to be so shy about it. I mean, I am pretty great company.”
Your face burned, and you looked away, clutching your bag tightly. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, though your tone lacked any real bite.
His laugh was soft but warm, and it only made your cheeks grow hotter. “I’m just saying what’s true,” he said, his voice lowering as he added, “You’re cute when you get flustered, you know that?”
You didn’t respond, too busy trying to keep your heart from pounding out of your chest.
Later that evening, you found yourself at his dorm room again, another movie night he’d somehow convinced you to attend. As usual, he’d picked a horror film—one of his favorites, he said.
The room was dimly lit, the flickering glow of the TV the only source of light. You sat next to him on the small couch, your knees almost touching.
Halfway through the movie, a particularly tense scene made you jump, and without thinking, you grabbed onto Ni-ki’s arm.
“Scared?” he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind.
You quickly let go, crossing your arms over your chest. “No,” you said stubbornly, though the way your heart raced said otherwise.
Ni-ki laughed softly, leaning closer to you. “It’s okay to be scared. You can hold onto me if you want,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch.
You glanced at him, your cheeks burning again, and quickly looked back at the screen. “I’ll be fine,” you muttered, trying to ignore how close he was.
As the movie went on, though, the tension eased, and the warmth of Ni-ki’s presence lulled you into a sense of comfort. Before you knew it, your eyes were growing heavy, and the soft sound of his breathing beside you was the last thing you remembered before you drifted off.
When you woke up, the TV was off, and the room was quiet. You blinked groggily, realizing you were leaning against Ni-ki’s chest again, your head resting just over his heart. His arm was draped lightly over your shoulder, holding you close.
You froze, your face heating up as you tried to process the situation. Slowly, you sat up, careful not to wake him, only to find him already awake, his eyes half-lidded and watching you with a soft smile.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
“I—I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you stammered, pulling away completely.
Ni-ki just shrugged, sitting up as well. “It’s fine,” he said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “You looked comfortable.”
You buried your face in your hands, groaning softly. “This is so embarrassing…”
He chuckled, reaching out to gently nudge your shoulder. “Relax. I told you, it’s fine. You can fall asleep on me anytime.”
His words only made your blush deepen, and you quickly got up, mumbling something about needing to leave. Ni-ki walked you to the door, still smiling in that soft, knowing way that made your heart ache.
--
It was a typical day in the cafeteria, the loud hum of conversation filling the air as you sat with your friends, idly picking at your food. The topic of discussion ranged from schoolwork to weekend plans, and you were halfway through telling a funny story when the sound of a tray nearly crashing to the ground caught your attention.
You looked up to see Ni-ki, standing awkwardly as he tried to steady himself after nearly colliding with a group of girls near the lunch line. His tray wobbled precariously, but he caught it just in time, flashing the girls an apologetic smile before quickly stepping aside.
The girls giggled, whispering to one another as Ni-ki walked off, looking slightly flustered. You could almost see the faint hint of red on his cheeks, though he composed himself quickly and made his way toward his usual spot.
“That’s Ni-ki, right?” one of your friends, Natty, said, nudging you with her elbow.
You blinked, realizing your friends were now watching him. “Yeah,” you said nonchalantly, though your gaze lingered on him as he passed by.
“He’s gotten so handsome lately,” another friend chimed in, resting her chin on her hand as she stared after him. “I mean, look at him! The hair, the way he’s dressing now… I swear, it’s like he had a total glow-up overnight.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly looked down at your plate, hoping no one would notice.
“He’s always been cute,” Natty said, shrugging. “But now? It’s like… he’s confident. And confidence is hot.”
“I heard he’s been helping out in some of his classes too,” another friend added. “Like, tutoring and stuff. Smart and good-looking? Talk about the whole package.”
You tried to focus on your food, but the conversation buzzed around you, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange twinge in your chest as your friends continued to gush over Ni-ki.
“Hey,” Natty said suddenly, leaning closer to you. “You’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately, haven’t you? What’s that about?”
Your head shot up, eyes wide. “What? No, we’re just… friends,” you said quickly, waving off her question. “He likes crime novels, and we talk about them sometimes. That’s all.”
“Just friends?” Natty teased, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because he definitely looks at you like you’re more than just a friend.”
Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you frowned, shaking your head. “You’re imagining things.”
But even as you said it, you couldn’t shake the memory of Ni-ki’s lingering glances, the way he leaned closer when he spoke to you, or how his hand would sometimes brush against yours when he handed you something.
Across the cafeteria, Ni-ki had taken a seat by himself, but before he started eating, his eyes flicked in your direction. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.
Natty noticed too, smirking as she nudged you again. “See? I told you. He’s totally into you.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please change the subject?”
Your friends laughed, but they eventually let it go, moving on to other topics. Still, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Ni-ki again, only to find him smiling softly to himself as he ate.
And for some reason, that little smile made your heart race even more than it already was.
The day had dragged on, the sun was low on the horizon as you started your walk home, the familiar path quiet except for the occasional car passing by. You had just popped in your earbuds when the sound of hurried footsteps broke through the music.
Frowning, you glanced over your shoulder, only to see Ni-ki sprinting toward you, waving one arm while clutching his bag with the other. His glasses were slightly crooked, his hair a little disheveled from the run, but he wore that familiar smile that seemed to make your day just a little brighter.
“Wait up!” he called, slightly breathless as he closed the distance between you.
You stopped, giving him time to catch his breath. “You okay there, track star?” you teased as he bent over, hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing.
“Yeah,” he panted, straightening up and flashing you a grin. “Just… didn’t want to lose you before I asked.”
“Asked what?” you said, tilting your head.
He shifted his bag higher on his shoulder. “Do you want to come over and study? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything. I thought we could go over some of that exam stuff together, maybe watch something after…”
You raised an eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile. “You ran all the way here to ask me that?”
Ni-ki shrugged, a faint pink dusting his cheeks as he looked away. “Well… yeah. It seemed important.”
You chuckled softly, noticing how his glasses were sitting askew on his face from the sprint. Without thinking, you stepped closer, reaching up to gently adjust them. “There,” you said, your voice softer now. “That’s better.”
Ni-ki blinked at you, clearly startled by the gesture, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—something warm, something soft, something that made your heart skip.
You cleared your throat, stepping back and turning toward the direction of his dorm building. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, trying to ignore the sudden heat rising to your face.
Ni-ki followed after you, his footsteps light but quick, and you didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on you as he walked behind. There was a small, almost shy smile on his face, one he didn’t bother hiding now that you weren’t looking.
By the time you reached the building, the sky had darkened, the streetlights flickering on. Ni-ki held the door open for you, letting you step in first, and as you made your way toward the stairs, you felt his presence behind you—quiet but steady.
“You’ve really got a thing for last-minute plans, huh?” you said, glancing back at him with a teasing smile.
“Only with you,” he replied smoothly, his tone light, but there was a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes that caught you off guard.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see if you can actually focus on studying this time.”
Ni-ki just grinned, following you up the stairs, his heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the earlier sprint.
The moment you stepped into Ni-ki’s apartment, you were greeted by the faint scent of laundry detergent and something sweet—probably the remnants of whatever he had for breakfast that morning.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, slipping off his shoes and gesturing toward his room.
You followed him in, setting your bag down on the floor.
“Alright,” Ni-ki said, plopping down onto the floor and pulling out his notebook. “Let’s get this over with before my brain decides to shut off completely.”
You laughed, sitting down across from him and pulling out your own notes. “You’re the one who wanted to study, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, flipping through his book. “Just don’t let me slack off too much.”
For a while, the two of you worked in relative silence, the sound of pages turning and pens scratching against paper filling the room. Every now and then, one of you would ask a question, leading to brief discussions as you helped each other out.
“Wait, is this right?” Ni-ki asked at one point, sliding his notebook over to you.
You leaned over to take a look, your brows furrowing as you scanned his work. “Almost. You forgot to carry this number over here,” you said, pointing it out with the tip of your pen.
Ni-ki groaned, dropping his head onto the desk dramatically. “Why is math like this? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of suffering?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics. “Come on, it’s not that bad. You’re just overthinking it.”
“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, lifting his head to look at you. “You’re like a human calculator.”
“Flattery won’t get you out of this,” you teased, nudging his notebook back toward him.
He gave you a mock pout but picked up his pen again, dutifully fixing his mistake.
A little while later, you were both leaning back against the bed, taking a break as you sipped on the canned drinks Ni-ki had grabbed from his fridge.
“Okay, serious question,” Ni-ki said, turning to you with a mischievous glint in his eye.
You raised an eyebrow, wary but intrigued. “What?”
“If you had to choose between being stuck on a deserted island with me or having to solve a murder mystery with me, which one would you pick?”
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the random question. “Uh… I don’t know. What kind of murder mystery?”
“The really dramatic kind,” he said, leaning closer with an exaggerated serious expression. “Lots of twists, lots of danger. Like, we’d be running for our lives half the time.”
You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin. “In that case… definitely the murder mystery. At least then I’d have something to keep me entertained.”
Ni-ki gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just mortally wounded him. “Wow. I see how it is. I’m just boring company on a deserted island, huh?”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “That’s not what I said!”
“Sure, sure,” he said, grinning as he took another sip of his drink. “I’ll remember this the next time you need my help with something.”
The banter continued as you both returned to studying, the playful energy making the work feel less tedious. Ni-ki had a way of turning even the most mundane moments into something fun, and you found yourself smiling more often than not.
At one point, he leaned over to steal a glance at your notebook, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Are you sure this is right?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
“Yes, it’s right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You can double-check it if you don’t believe me.”
He smirked, leaning closer. “Nah, I trust you. You’re too smart to get it wrong.”
The compliment, paired with his proximity, made your cheeks heat up, and you quickly looked away, focusing on your notebook to hide your reaction.
Ni-ki noticed, of course. He always noticed. But instead of teasing you further, he simply chuckled and went back to his own work, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
After a while, Ni-ki let out a long sigh, dropping his pen dramatically onto his notebook. “I’m officially done. I can’t stare at numbers and letters any longer without my brain exploding.”
You glanced at him, amused. “You’re giving up already? I thought you wanted to study.”
“I did,” he said, flopping onto his back like a starfish. “But now I want to do something fun. Come on, let’s play a game.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like what?”
He sat up quickly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “On my console. I’ve got a few multiplayer games. We’ll do a couple of rounds—you’re not scared to lose, are you?”
“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stood up to follow him to his console setup. “You’re the one who should be worried.”
He smirked, grabbing two controllers and handing you one. “We’ll see about that.”
As the game loaded, you both got comfortable on the floor, sitting cross-legged with a pile of snacks within reach. The first match started, and immediately, the competitive energy between you two ignited.
“Ni-ki, what are you doing?” you teased as his character fell off the map for the third time in a row. “You’re not even trying, are you?”
His ears turned red as he adjusted his glasses, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I-I’m just warming up! Wait until the next round; you won’t even stand a chance.”
You grinned, loving the way he stumbled over his words. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
The next match started, and this time Ni-ki was clearly putting in more effort. He managed to take the lead, and when you lost the round, he leaned back with a triumphant smirk.
“Looks like you’re the one who should be worried,” he said, his tone dripping with playful confidence.
You felt your face heat up as you avoided his gaze, grumbling under your breath. “Lucky shot. I wasn’t even trying.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning a little closer to nudge your shoulder. “Excuses, excuses. Just admit I’m better.”
You turned to glare at him, but the way his eyes sparkled with amusement made it hard to stay mad. Instead, you shoved his arm lightly. “Don’t get too cocky, Ni-ki. I’ll destroy you in the next one.”
The back-and-forth continued as you played match after match, the teasing only escalating as the wins and losses stacked up on both sides. Every time you won, Ni-ki would blush and fidget, either pushing his glasses up his nose or tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie.
“Seriously, how are you so good at this?” he muttered after losing another round, his voice a mix of frustration and awe.
“I told you, you should’ve been worried,” you said, grinning as you leaned back, basking in your victory.
But then Ni-ki got his revenge in the next game, and when you lost, he didn’t hold back.
“Aw, what happened?” he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”
You huffed, crossing your arms as your cheeks burned. “I just… got distracted, that’s all.”
“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “Keep telling yourself that.”
The teasing was relentless, but you couldn’t deny how much fun you were having. Even as you tried to avoid looking at him after his jabs, you could feel his gaze on you, warm and amused.
When the final match ended—Ni-ki winning by a narrow margin—you let out a dramatic groan, flopping onto your back. “Ugh, I can’t believe you beat me.”
He laughed, leaning over you slightly. “See? I told you I’d win eventually.”
You looked up at him, your pout fading as you saw the way his eyes crinkled at the corners from his smile. For a moment, you forgot all about the game, too caught up in the way he looked so happy and carefree.
“Well,” you said finally, sitting up and brushing some imaginary dust off your pants. “Don’t get used to it. Next time, I’m coming for that win.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, his voice softening slightly.
You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you busied yourself with tidying up the controllers and snack wrappers.
You glanced out the window and froze for a moment, realizing how dark it had gotten. The streetlights outside cast long, flickering shadows along the quiet road. Your heart dropped when you checked the time on your phone: 9:57 PM.
"Shit," you muttered under your breath, hurriedly grabbing your things and stuffing them into your bag. You barely noticed Ni-ki watching you, his head tilted curiously as he leaned back on his hands.
"Leaving already?" he asked, his tone light, though something in his voice felt... reluctant.
You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving him a quick, apologetic smile. "Yeah, I didn’t realize how late it got. I need to get home before it gets any darker out. I’ll see you Monday, okay?"
Ni-ki opened his mouth as if to say something, but then stopped himself, giving you a small nod instead. "Alright, be careful."
You waved at him, muttering a quick, "Bye!" before rushing out of his dorm room and into the hallway.
The building was eerily quiet as you made your way outside, the cool night air hitting your face the moment you stepped through the door. You tightened your grip on your bag, glancing around the street. It was unsettling how empty it felt, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.
You walked quickly, your footsteps echoing on the pavement. Normally, you’d pop in your earbuds and listen to music to keep yourself company, but tonight, the thought of not hearing what was around you made your stomach twist. Instead, you kept your ears open, alert to every little sound.
The streets were mostly quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint hum of a car in the distance. Still, the shadows seemed to move differently tonight, stretching and shifting in ways that made your pulse quicken.
Your pace quickened as well. The faster you walked, the closer you got to home, where you could lock the door and feel safe.
Your heart leapt at the sound of footsteps echoing behind you. They were uneven, dragging slightly against the pavement. You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat, and slowly turned around.
A man stumbled a little ways behind you, his silhouette illuminated by the dim glow of a streetlamp. His gait was unsteady, his head lolling slightly to the side, and in his hand was a beer bottle, half-empty and dangling precariously.
The strong stench of alcohol hit you even from a distance, and your pulse eased slightly. Just a drunk guy, you told yourself.
Still, something about the way he moved unsettled you. His eyes seemed unfocused, yet he kept glancing up in your direction, like he was aware of you but trying not to be obvious about it.
You tightened your grip on your bag and turned back around, walking faster now. The sound of his footsteps didn’t fade; if anything, they seemed to quicken as well.
Your stomach twisted, and you glanced back again. The man was closer this time, his lips curling into a sloppy smirk.
“Hey!” he slurred, his voice loud and grating. “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?”
You ignored him, your heart racing as you picked up your pace.
“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” he called out again, louder this time. You heard the sound of glass clinking, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him waving the beer bottle at you.
Panic bubbled in your chest. You debated breaking into a sprint, but you didn’t want to show fear—or worse, give him a reason to chase after you.
Instead, you ducked your head and turned sharply down a side street, hoping to lose him.
But the footsteps followed, faster now.
“Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” he shouted, his voice taking on an edge of irritation.
Your breathing quickened, your mind racing as you glanced around for an escape. The street was too empty, too quiet. There was no one to call for help, no open stores, no witnesses.
“C’mon, woman!” he slurred, closer than before. “Just talk to me for a second!”
He made your skin crawl, and without thinking, you broke into a run.
“Hey!” you heard him shout behind you, his footsteps pounding against the pavement as he gave chase.
You turned a corner sharply, your chest heaving as you pushed yourself to go faster. Your legs burned, your bag bouncing against your back, but you didn’t dare slow down.
When you glanced back over your shoulder, your stomach dropped. He was still following, his face twisted into a drunken snarl.
Your heart thundered as you looked ahead, desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—to hide. That’s when you saw it: a narrow alleyway, tucked between two buildings.
Without thinking, you darted into it, pressing yourself against the wall and holding your breath. The shadows swallowed you whole, and you prayed he wouldn’t notice where you’d gone.
The sound of his footsteps grew louder, then slower, until finally, they stopped.
“Where the hell—” you heard him mutter, his voice slurred and irritated.
You peeked around the corner just in time to see him scratching his head and muttering to himself before walking away.
Relief flooded through you, and you let out a shaky breath, your back sliding against the wall as you sank to the ground.
Your hands trembled as you fumbled through your bag, desperately searching for your phone. After a frantic few moments, you realized with a sinking feeling—you’d left it at Ni-ki’s place.
“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair. You were too shaken to think straight, but you needed your phone. It wasn’t safe to be out here without it.
With a reluctant sigh, you pushed yourself off the wall and started walking back toward Ni-ki’s dorm. The streets felt even quieter now, the darkness pressing in around you. Every step you took echoed loudly in your ears, and your heartbeat hadn’t fully calmed from the earlier chase.
You were halfway there when a sudden shout split through the silence, followed by a loud, sickening thud.
You froze in place, your head snapping toward the source of the sound. It came from an alley just a few steps ahead.
Instinct told you to keep walking, to pretend you hadn’t heard anything. But curiosity—morbid and insistent—had you inching closer to the alleyway. You peered into the darkness, your breath hitching as your eyes struggled to adjust.
At first, there was nothing. Just the oppressive blackness of the alley. You were about to turn away, deciding it wasn’t worth it, when you heard a faint shuffle.
And then he stumbled out.
The drunk man.
Your stomach churned at the sight of him—his steps were unsteady, but it wasn’t alcohol this time. No, it was the knife protruding from his chest, the hilt gleaming faintly under the dim streetlights. Blood poured from the wound, staining his shirt and dripping onto the ground in thick, steady splatters.
Your mind blanked as you stared, your body frozen in place. He staggered a few steps closer before collapsing onto the pavement, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky.
You opened your mouth to scream, but the sound died in your throat as your gaze flicked upward.
He was there.
Standing in the shadows of the alley, his white mask almost glowing against the darkness, he tilted his head at you in that familiar, unnerving way, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his eyes locked on you.
"Ah, sweetheart," his voice drawled, smooth and almost teasing. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”
Your heart nearly stopped. Without thinking, you spun around, ready to run—but you weren’t fast enough.
Before you could take more than a step, his hand shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you back with a terrifying amount of strength. You barely had time to gasp before he twisted you around, pinning you against the cold, rough wall of the alley.
You struggled, kicking and thrashing, but he caught both your wrists in one hand, pressing them firmly behind your back. His chest pressed against your back, trapping you in place, and you could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned in close to your ear.
“He deserved it,” he whispered, his voice low and almost intimate. “Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you? Following you? Touching you with his eyes like you were something he could take?”
You tried to protest, to tell him to let you go, but your voice refused to cooperate.
“You should be thanking me,” he murmured, his tone laced with dark amusement. “If it weren’t for me, who knows what that disgusting piece of trash would’ve done to you?”
His words sent a chill down your spine, but the way he said them—like he truly believed he’d done you a favor—made your stomach twist.
“You should give me a reward, sweetheart,” he purred, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. “I’ve been so good to you, haven’t I? Taking care of all the people who hurt you.”
“L-let me go,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.
He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, but I’m not done yet,” he said, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly. “Not until you say it.”
“S-say what?” you stammered.
“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice still teasing but with an edge that made it clear he wasn’t joking. “Go on, sweetheart. Say thank you to your savior.”
You writhed in his grip, twisting and struggling to free yourself, but his hold was unyielding. Every movement you made only seemed to amuse him further.
“Tsk, tsk,” he tutted softly, like a parent scolding a misbehaving child. “What’s this, sweetheart? Fighting me when I’ve done so much for you? That’s not very nice.”
“Let me go,” you hissed, your voice sharp despite the tremor in it.
Instead of responding, he shifted closer, his body pressing against yours as his free hand moved. You flinched, expecting the worst, but he simply brushed his gloved fingers against your neck, gently pushing your hair aside. The motion was slow, deliberate—almost tender.
“You really don’t know how to behave, do you?” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with something darker. “Here I am, protecting you, keeping you safe, and you don’t even say thank you. Instead, you fight me. Struggle against me. Like I’m the bad guy.”
The words sent a chill down your spine, the weight of them sinking into your chest.
“I didn’t ask for this!” you snapped, trying once more to pull your wrists free, but his grip only tightened.
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, sweetheart,” he said, his tone almost playful. “You didn’t have to. I wanted to do it. For you.”
His fingers trailed lightly over the nape of your neck, sending a shiver through your body that you couldn’t control.
“You don’t understand,” he whispered, leaning in closer until his masked face was right beside yours. “I see you. Every single day. You’re so… perfect. So pure. And they’re not. They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking.
“Maybe,” he admitted with a dark chuckle. “But I’m your kind of insane.”
His hand slid down, brushing over your shoulder in a mockery of comfort. “Say it,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Say thank you. That’s all I want to hear.”
Your throat tightened, and you bit your lip, refusing to give him what he wanted. You wouldn’t play into whatever twisted game he was orchestrating.
But he sighed, the sound carrying a hint of disappointment. “Still being stubborn, huh?” he mused. “That’s okay. I like a challenge.”
His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face slightly to the side. Though you couldn’t see his expression behind the mask, you could feel his gaze burning into you, his intensity unnerving.
“You’ll come around,” he said softly, his voice dripping with certainty. “One day, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly cares about you.”
Before you could respond, he pulled back slightly, his grip on your wrists loosening just enough for you to jerk free. Without looking back, you bolted, your heart pounding as your feet hit the pavement.
But even as you ran, his voice echoed in your mind, smooth and haunting.
“One day, sweetheart. You’ll thank me.”
You didn’t stop running until the bright lights of the police station came into view. Your chest burned, your breath coming in ragged gasps, but the overwhelming need for safety pushed you forward. Bursting through the station doors, you stumbled inside, drawing the attention of a few officers.
“I need help!” you blurted out, your voice trembling. “There’s been a... a murder. And I saw him. I saw the killer!”
The room went silent for a moment as the officers exchanged quick glances before one of them, a tall man with a kind but serious face, approached you.
“Alright, take a deep breath,” he said, guiding you to a chair. “Let’s get this sorted. Where did this happen?”
You described the location of the alleyway, your voice shaky as you recounted the events. The officer nodded, gesturing for another officer to dispatch units to the scene immediately. Within moments, two officers left the station, heading toward the area you described.
“Okay,” the tall officer said, sitting down across from you with a notepad. “We’re going to need a full report from you. Start from the beginning—everything you saw, everything you experienced.”
Your hands shook as you clasped them tightly together, trying to steady yourself. You closed your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to recount every detail, no matter how horrifying.
You told them about walking home, the drunk man, and the sounds that had drawn you to the alley. You described the killer in as much detail as you could: the mask, the knife, the dark clothes. You hesitated when you got to the part where he cornered you, his words still ringing in your ears.
“He... he grabbed me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Pinned me against the wall. He said he was protecting me. That I should... thank him.”
The officer’s pen paused briefly on the notepad, his brows furrowing.
“He said he killed the man for me,” you continued, your throat tightening as you forced the words out. “That he was doing it because he cared about me.”
The officer leaned back slightly, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief. “Did you recognize him? Anything distinctive about his voice, his build, his mannerisms?”
You shook your head, feeling a wave of frustration and helplessness wash over you. “No. He wore a mask, and his voice... it was muffled. But he was tall, and he moved... like he was confident. Like he’d done this before.”
The officer nodded, jotting down your words. “You did the right thing coming here. We’ll have officers sweep the area, and we’ll add this information to the ongoing investigation.”
--
You sat in the station for what felt like an eternity, the hum of conversations and ringing phones fading into the background as your nerves took over. Every second that passed felt like it stretched longer than the last, the events of the night playing on a loop in your head.
Finally, the door swung open, and a pair of officers walked in, their expressions grim. One of them leaned in to speak with the tall officer who had taken your statement. After a brief conversation, he turned back to you and gestured for you to come over.
“They found the body,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with tension. “It was hidden behind some trash cans in the alley. The killer’s gone. But there’s something you need to see.”
Your stomach dropped, but you forced yourself to follow him to a desk where a computer screen was lit with grainy black-and-white footage.
“This is from a nearby CCTV camera,” the officer explained, clicking to play the video.
You leaned forward, your heart pounding as the footage started. There you were, walking down the street, your bag slung over your shoulder. You saw the drunk man trailing behind you, stumbling slightly, clutching the beer bottle. Your pulse quickened as you watched yourself pause and glance back before speeding up, the man still following.
The video cut briefly to another angle. The drunk man was now heading back down the street after you’d run. Suddenly, a shadow emerged from the alleyway. A figure stepped out behind him, silent and deliberate. The killer.
You watched, frozen, as the killer grabbed the man and pulled him into the alley in one swift motion. The man barely had time to react before disappearing into the shadows.
The screen flickered and you appeared, cautiously approaching the alley and stopping as if trying to decide whether to investigate. Then, just as you remembered, you turned and began walking away—only to get dragged in.
The next part made your blood run cold.
The camera caught the moment the killer stepped into view, just as you ran off-screen. He stopped in the middle of the street, standing there like a statue, watching you flee. Then, slowly, his head tilted upward, and he looked directly at the camera.
Even through the grainy footage, the gleaming white mask was unmistakable.
The killer stared into the camera for a long moment, tilting his head like a predator examining prey. Then, without any sense of urgency, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
The officer paused the video, his jaw tight as he glanced at you. “The way he looked at the camera… it’s almost like he wanted us to see him.”
You couldn’t speak. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were clammy as you clutched the edge of the desk. The image of the masked figure burned into your mind was now accompanied by that chilling motion—the way he’d looked at the camera, unafraid, almost playful.
“Do you know him?” the officer asked gently, his tone careful.
You shook your head quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “No. I—I don’t know anyone who’d…” You trailed off, your voice faltering.
The officer studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he said finally. “We’re going to keep investigating, and we’ll need to keep in contact with you. If anything—anything at all—comes to mind, you let us know.”
You nodded, your mind still racing as the image of the killer’s mask lingered.
The officer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “For now, we’ll have someone escort you home. You shouldn’t be out there alone.”
Home. The thought of being alone right now was terrifying, but staying here with the memory of that footage wasn’t much better.
As an officer prepared to walk you out, you glanced back at the frozen frame on the screen. The mask, the tilted head, the casual way he’d turned and walked away.
He wasn’t just watching.
He was toying with you.
The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence as you stared out the window, your mind racing with everything that had happened. The officer glanced at you occasionally, likely noticing your pale complexion and tense posture.
As you neared your neighborhood, you suddenly remembered your phone. "Wait," you blurted out, sitting up straighter. "Can we stop by my friend's place? I left my phone there earlier."
The officer hesitated but nodded. “Alright, just make it quick. What’s the address?”
You rattled it off, and within minutes, the car pulled up in front of Ni-ki’s building. You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt, mumbling a soft, "I’ll be right back," before stepping out and jogging up to the building. Your stomach churned with unease as you entered and climbed the stairs.
When you reached Ni-ki’s door, you paused, glancing back down the hall. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and knocked.
It took a few moments, but the door finally opened.
Ni-ki stood there, his damp hair pushed back messily, droplets of water still clinging to his neck. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower, wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants that hung lazily on his frame.
“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “I was wondering when you’d come back for this.” He held up your phone, which had been sitting on his desk.
You gave him a sheepish smile, reaching for it. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I got distracted earlier and completely forgot.”
He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as he handed it to you. “No problem. You okay, though? You seem… tense.”
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, clutching the phone to your chest. “Just—uh, long day. Thanks, Ni-ki.”
Before he could say anything else, you turned and started walking back down the hall.
“Wait—” Ni-ki called after you, his voice tinged with concern. “You sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.”
You ignored him, speeding up your pace. “I’m fine! See you Monday!”
“(Y/N)—”
You didn’t stop, practically jogging back to the police car. You climbed in, shutting the door behind you and exhaling deeply as the officer glanced at you in the rearview mirror.
“Got what you needed?” she asked.
“Yeah,” you muttered, not meeting her gaze.
The drive home was just as silent as before, the weight of the night pressing down on your chest. When the officer pulled up outside your apartment, she gave you a small nod. “Stay inside tonight. Lock your doors. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping out and heading to your door.
Once inside, you locked the door behind you, sliding the chain into place for extra security. You leaned against it, exhaling deeply as your heart continued to race.
You glanced at your phone, still clutched tightly in your hand, and felt a pang of guilt. Ni-ki had been nothing but kind to you, and you’d brushed him off so abruptly.
But you couldn’t stop thinking about the killer, about the way he’d spoken to you, about the way he’d looked at you. It was like his presence still lingered, even now, haunting you.
With a sigh, you set your phone down and headed to your room, determined to push the events of the night out of your mind. You needed sleep—desperately.
Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. You glanced down, seeing a message from Ni-ki.
Ni-ki: Hey, you okay? I know you were in a rush earlier… If you need someone to talk to, I'm here.
A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, but you couldn't quite shake off the tension in your chest. You quickly typed back.
You: Yeah, I’m fine. Just… been a weird day, you know?
You stared at the screen for a moment before adding:
You: Would you mind calling me? I could use someone to talk to…
It didn’t take long for him to reply.
Ni-ki: Of course. I’ll call you now.
A few moments later, your phone rang. You swiped to answer, bringing it to your ear.
“Hey,” Ni-ki’s voice came through, calm and warm, despite the underlying concern. “You doing okay now?”
You leaned back against the wall, feeling a sense of relief just hearing his voice.
“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Just… everything feels a little off tonight. I’m glad you messaged.”
He was quiet for a moment, and you could almost picture him thinking.
“I’m glad you reached out,” he said finally. “You don’t have to go through stuff like this alone. I know it might seem like everything’s chaotic, but you’ve got me. You can always talk to me.”
His words had an unexpected comfort to them, and you felt some of the weight lift off your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you said quietly. “I really appreciate it, Ni-ki.”
“I mean it,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “Anytime, seriously. If you need a distraction or just someone to listen, I’ve got you.”
You smiled to yourself, grateful for his kindness.
“Maybe we can talk more tomorrow, huh? I’ll make sure to check in on you again. Don’t want you feeling like this all night.”
You felt a slight pang of guilt but quickly pushed it away.
“I’ll be okay. And… thanks again. I’m just gonna try to get some sleep.”
“Sounds good. Get some rest, and if anything comes up, just text me, alright?”
“I will. Goodnight, Ni-ki.”
“Goodnight,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making you feel a little lighter.
As you ended the call, you leaned back into your pillow, feeling a bit more at ease.
--
The doorbell rang again the next morning, pulling you from your thoughts. You blinked, confused, before walking over to the door and pulling it open. To your surprise, there stood Ni-ki, looking as effortlessly stylish as ever, wearing a relaxed smile.
“I’m taking you to the mall,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You stared at him for a moment, your eyes widening. “Wait, what? You’re... what?”
Ni-ki chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. “I figured you could use a little break. You’ve been cooped up here long enough.”
You glanced at the clock. It was a bit earlier than you expected. “But I—”
Before you could protest any further, you heard the sound of your own feet hitting the floor as you dashed towards your bedroom. “Give me a second! I need to get dressed!”
Ni-ki didn’t seem to mind. He just chuckled again, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”
You quickly pulled your clothes out of your closet, racing against the clock to change, but as you did, you could hear the soft sound of Ni-ki sitting on the couch, the hum of his phone as he likely scrolled through something. Even as you hurried to change, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous—he was waiting for you.
After awhile, you stepped out, having finally gotten dressed in something comfortable but still cute enough for a day out. You were still adjusting your jacket when you caught sight of Ni-ki, his attention fixed on his phone.
“You ready?” he asked, glancing up from his phone when he noticed you stepping into the living room.
You nodded, feeling a little bashful but excited at the same time. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Ni-ki grinned and stood up, tossing his phone onto the couch. “I knew you’d be ready in no time.”
Ni-ki led the way out of the apartment, holding the door open for you. The cool air greeted you as you stepped outside, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of calm settle over you
As you both walked to the car, Ni-ki kept his usual easygoing demeanor, flashing you an occasional grin, but his eyes held a warmth that made you feel at ease.
Once you got to the car, Ni-ki opened the door for you with a dramatic bow. “After you, milady,” he teased, his smile playful.
You laughed, stepping into the car. “You’re a dork,” you said, shaking your head.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car pulling out of the parking lot as he hummed along to the song on the radio. The drive was smooth, with Ni-ki chatting casually, asking about how you’d been feeling lately, if you were still swamped with schoolwork, and if you had any specific things you wanted to do at the mall.
“I’m just along for the ride, really,” you said, feeling a little more relaxed with each passing moment. “I’m happy to just hang out.”
Ni-ki glanced at you, his lips curving upward. “Good, ‘cause I was planning on getting us some snacks, trying on some clothes, and maybe finding something ridiculous to make you laugh.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m down for that,” you agreed.
The ride went by quickly, with the two of you talking and joking about random things, from bad fashion choices to the latest crime drama episode you both had watched recently. When the mall came into view, Ni-ki parked the car, giving you a quick glance. “Ready to have some fun?”
You nodded, your smile wide. “Absolutely.”
You and Ni-ki wandered through the mall, hopping from store to store, trying on ridiculous hats and laughing at each other’s choices. He picked out a bright pink beanie with oversized ears, putting it on your head and grinning mischievously. "You should totally rock this look," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
You rolled your eyes but played along, giving a dramatic twirl. "Do you think it brings out my eyes?" you joked, striking a pose.
Ni-ki’s smile widened, and he leaned in slightly, as if seriously considering the question. "Honestly? It definitely makes your eyes pop. Maybe not in the way you think, though."
You burst into laughter, nudging him playfully in the side. "You’re ridiculous," you said between giggles. But you didn’t mind—it felt good to laugh, to feel normal for once.
After some time, you both left the store, each with a few new items in hand, and wandered into the food court. Ni-ki, ever the expert in decision-making, immediately made a beeline for the bubble tea stand. “You want your usual?” he asked, already pulling out his wallet.
“Of course,” you said with a grin. “You know me too well.”
As you waited for your drinks, Ni-ki leaned against the counter casually, his expression relaxed. “This was fun, right? I’m glad you decided to come out with me today.” His tone was light, but there was something behind it—an undercurrent of sincerity that made you pause.
You smiled back at him, grateful for the day. “Yeah. I needed this... more than I thought.”
The bubble tea arrived, and the two of you walked over to a nearby table, settling in with your drinks. Ni-ki took a sip of his, then glanced over at you, his brow furrowing just slightly. "So, how have you been holding up? I know everything’s been... a little crazy lately."
You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to drag the mood down, but knowing Ni-ki would probably notice if you didn’t say something. You took a deep breath, sipping your tea as you tried to find the right words.
"I’ve been okay," you said, after a beat. "Some days are better than others, but... it’s easier when I’m with people I trust. Like you."
Ni-ki gave you a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good. I’m glad I’m one of those people,” he said, his voice gentle.
You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping your drinks and occasionally exchanging a few words.
Afterwards you were strolling through the aisles of the store, enjoying the soft hum of the background music and the peaceful atmosphere, when something caught your eye—a shelf full of adorable plushies. You couldn’t resist, and you found yourself picking up a cute little bear, smiling at how soft it was. But in that moment of distraction, you didn’t realize that Ni-ki had wandered off somewhere else in the store.
A few moments later, you heard the voices.
At first, they were distant, but slowly they grew louder, the tone dripping with mockery. You turned to see a group of familiar faces from school—some guys and girls who were known for their snide remarks.
“Wow, look at this,” one of the guys sneered. “All grown up, and still playing with toys?”
You felt your stomach tighten, but you didn’t let it show. You had heard this all before. Still, the words felt heavier today.
“You know, you should really grow up,” another girl added, laughing with the rest of them. “It’s kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?”
Normally, you’d brush it off with a sarcastic remark or a clever comeback, but today was different. You just couldn’t summon the energy to fight back. Instead, you gave a quiet, “It’s just a plushie,” and shrugged, turning to walk away.
But that didn’t stop them.
“Really, you’re such a child. It’s honestly pathetic,” the girl said, her voice mocking.
You stopped in your tracks, taking a deep breath. You were about to walk away again when she added something that made your blood run cold.
“You’re just as pathetic as Ni-ki. He probably doesn’t even care about you?”
The words were like a slap to the face. Without thinking, your eyes snapped toward her, your glare icy.
“You don’t know anything about us,” you hissed, your voice low and sharp. “Maybe you should focus on your own life instead of judging others.”
The girl’s expression faltered, but she wasn’t done. With a malicious grin, she raised her hand, ready to slap you across the face.
But before she could, a strong hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly.
“Don’t even think about it,” came a low, dangerous voice.
You looked up in surprise to see Ni-ki, towering over the group. His usual relaxed posture was gone, replaced by a stance of quiet fury. The others fell silent, their eyes wide.
Ni-ki’s grip on the girl’s wrist tightened, and she yelped, trying to pull away. But Ni-ki didn’t budge.
“They can make fun of me all they want,” he said, his voice cold and low, each word laced with intensity. “But if you ever, ever make fun of her again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
The girl blinked up at him, looking stunned, but Ni-ki didn’t release his hold. He was a completely different person now, standing tall that made it clear he wasn’t going to let anyone make fun of you—not now, not ever.
The group shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to seeing him like this. Ni-ki’s gaze never wavered from the girl, who was still trying to wriggle out of his grip. He spoke again, his words cutting through the tension like a knife.
“If I hear you even think about messing with her again, I’ll make sure it’s the last time. Got it?”
The girl’s face went pale, and after a moment, she finally pulled her wrist from his grasp. She didn’t say anything else—she didn’t have to. Ni-ki had made his point clear.
As the group scattered, you stood there in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.
Ni-ki turned to you, his expression softening slightly, though there was still a hint of that protective edge. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now.
You nodded, still processing everything. “Yeah… Thanks. I guess I owe you one,” you said.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug, his usual smile returning. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
With that, the two of you continued your walk through the store.
--
The rain poured down heavily, a soft, constant drumming against the window as you sat at your kitchen table. You were absentmindedly eating your cereal when the sound of the TV caught your attention. The news anchor’s voice was steady but the words were jarring.
“A group of teens, including some local college students, have been reported missing. Authorities are investigating their whereabouts, but no leads have been found as of now.”
You froze, the spoon in your hand slipping from your grip and clattering to the floor. The world around you seemed to freeze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. It took a few seconds for the words to register—teens, a group, missing.
You couldn’t help but feel the creeping dread settle in your chest. You quickly stood up, your movements rushed and frantic.
You put your bowl down with shaking hands, grabbed your phone, keys, and bag, not even bothering to grab a proper breakfast. You yanked on your jacket, grabbed your umbrella, and rushed out the door, the sound of the rain growing louder as you fought against the storm.
When you finally reached the school grounds, the rain hadn’t let up. You were drenched, but it didn’t matter. You immediately zeroed in on Ni-ki’s tall frame, his head down as he rifled through his bag, clearly looking for something.
You took a deep breath and made your way toward him, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.
"Ni-ki!" you called out, stepping forward.
He jumped in surprise, his body stiffening as he spun around to look at you. His wide eyes softened when he saw you, though there was an edge of confusion in his expression.
“Hey,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep, probably because it was so early. "You okay? You’re all wet.”
You nodded quickly, shaking your umbrella as you stood in front of him. "Yeah, I’m fine. I just—" You paused, your heart hammering in your chest. "Did you hear about the missing teens?"
Ni-ki’s face went still for a moment, his eyes narrowing. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair, as if processing everything in his head. “Yeah. I heard. I don’t know… it’s weird, right? Some of them were people from school.”
You nodded, feeling a pit grow in your stomach. “Yeah. It’s just… strange, with everything that’s been happening lately.” You bit your lip, trying to read his face. He wasn’t showing any obvious signs of worry, but then again, Ni-ki had always been good at hiding his emotions when it suited him.
Ni-ki paused, his expression hardening for a moment. “I know. But we don’t know anything for sure yet. I’m sure the police will figure it out.”
You studied him for a moment, watching how composed he was despite the situation. He was always so calm, but today it was different. You noticed how his shoulders were just a little stiffer than usual, his gaze just a little more distant, though he quickly returned his focus to you.
“Come on,” he said after a moment, his smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s get to class.”
You nodded, following him, but the unease that had settled in your chest refused to leave. Something felt off.
The entire day felt off, like there was an invisible weight pressing on you, pulling your attention in a thousand directions. As you sat in class, your fingers kept scrolling through your phone, searching for any new information about the missing students. Every news site you checked had the same vague updates, all of them repeating the same information—the authorities were still investigating, but there were no leads. The unease grew heavier in your chest with each passing minute.
You didn’t even realize you weren’t paying attention to the lesson until the teacher called on you, pulling you back to reality with a jolt. You hastily tried to catch up, your mind racing with thoughts about what might be happening. The missing students. The weird, unsettling feeling that something was wrong.
As the bell rang for the next class, you absentmindedly packed up your things, your mind still elsewhere. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Ni-ki sitting next to you, watching you with a careful, intense gaze.
It wasn’t until he spoke that you realized he’d been looking at you for a while. His voice was low, almost dangerous in its calmness.
“You haven’t been paying attention all day,” he said, his tone not accusatory but focused, like he was analyzing every little thing. “What’s going on?”
You looked up, surprised by the directness in his tone. Ni-ki’s eyes weren’t his usual playful, teasing self—they were sharp, focused, and a little darker than usual. There was something in them that made your heart race, something you couldn’t quite place.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to tell him what you were feeling, or if it was just your imagination running wild. The tension in the air seemed to thicken as he waited for you to respond, and despite everything, you felt the need to be honest with him.
“I don’t know…” you trailed off, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “It’s just… something feels wrong, Ni-ki. There’s this whole thing with the missing students, and it doesn’t feel like it’s over. I keep thinking about all of it. I can’t stop.”
Ni-ki’s gaze never left you as you spoke, and he gave a slight nod, as if he understood. The tension in his eyes didn’t fade, though—if anything, it seemed to grow.
“You’re not the only one who feels it,” he said quietly. “But you’ve got to be careful. People don’t always show their true faces. And sometimes, the things that feel wrong are just the beginning.”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking into you. There was something about the way he said it—like he knew more than he was letting on. You wanted to ask him more, to press him for details, but the way he looked at you made you think better of it.
Instead, you gave a small, uneasy nod. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already caught up in something much bigger than you realized.
Ni-ki turned his gaze away after a moment, but not before his eyes flickered down to your hand, which you had been fidgeting with absentmindedly. He seemed to think about something for a second, and then, without warning, he reached out and gently brushed his fingers over yours. The simple touch was enough to send a jolt through your body, but when he met your eyes again, his expression had softened, almost reassuring.
“Don’t let it consume you,” he said, his voice more tender now, as if trying to comfort you in his own way. “We’ll figure it out, together.”
You nodded, though you weren’t sure what he meant by together.
After school, you had made up your mind not to stay out too late. You just wanted to get home, rest, and focus on the things you needed to catch up on. The bus ride was uneventful, and you felt a small sense of relief as you stepped off and made your way home. The familiar walk up to your building gave you a little comfort, and you entered quickly, glad to be out of the rain.
Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, tossed your bag onto the couch, and went straight for the bathroom to wash away the stress of the day. The hot water from the shower was soothing, and you stood there for a while, letting it run over your shoulders as you closed your eyes, lost in the sensation of warmth and calm.
When you finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, you dried off and got dressed in something comfortable, and started studying, but a few hours later your stomach growled loudly, a reminder that it had been far too long since you’d eaten.
You sighed, glancing at the clock. It was already late, and you had hardly eaten all day. You stood up from your desk, stretched, and made your way to the kitchen to see what you could scrounge up. As you opened the fridge, you found a few things—a block of cheese, some leftover rice, some random vegetables—but not nearly enough to make a decent meal. Your eyes landed on the empty shelf where you normally kept the essentials like eggs, bread, and a few other things.
You cursed under your breath.
You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a while, and it was becoming apparent just how low on supplies you were. You’d been putting it off for days, but now you were paying the price. You pulled out your phone to make a quick list of the things you needed to pick up: eggs, bread, some fresh produce, and whatever else would make an easy dinner. You threw on a jacket, grabbed your phone and keys, and headed back out the door.
The chill of the evening air hit you as soon as you stepped outside. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, the rain still lightly falling from the sky. The store wasn’t too far, but you’d be walking through puddles, and you could already feel the dampness creeping into your shoes. Still, you needed the food, so you picked up your pace and headed in the direction of the local grocery store.
By the time you reached the entrance, you had that familiar grocery store smell—the faint scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the cool air of refrigeration—and you pushed open the door, ready to get what you needed and get back home.
You grabbed your essentials—some vegetables, some rice, and a few other ingredients to make the dinner you had planned.
You walked out of the store, the cold evening air hitting your face as you carefully balanced your bag of groceries. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out, glancing at it absentmindedly as you began to make your way back to your apartment. You swiped through a few messages and notifications, barely paying attention to the route you were taking.
But when you finally looked up, you froze.
The street around you didn’t look familiar at all. You glanced back, realizing you must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Your surroundings had shifted from the usual city bustle to an unfamiliar area with dilapidated houses lining the street. The buildings looked old, their windows boarded up, and the paint on the walls was chipped, peeling away from years of neglect. The street was quiet, almost eerily so, and the air felt still in a way that made your skin prickle.
You checked your phone to see your location, but it didn't help much. You could have sworn you’d taken the right path.
You stood for a moment, considering whether to retrace your steps or try to find another route back home. That’s when the sound reached your ears—a sharp, blood-curdling scream. Your heart skipped a beat. It echoed through the quiet, a cry filled with terror and desperation.
Your mind screamed at you to turn around, to keep walking and get back to the familiar streets. But something inside you stirred—a compulsion you couldn’t shake. Another scream, followed by a cry for help, rang out, louder this time. The desperation in the voice pulled at you like an invisible thread.
Without fully realizing it, you started moving toward the sound. You glanced around nervously, double-checking that you weren’t being followed, but all you could see were the looming, abandoned houses. The streetlights flickered sporadically, casting long, haunting shadows over the cracked pavement. The atmosphere felt heavy, suffocating.
You set your groceries down carefully on the ground, the sound of the bag crinkling in the quiet making you pause for a moment. You slowly made your way toward the large house where the screams had come from. It stood at the end of the street, a large, imposing structure with peeling paint and broken windows. It looked almost like a mansion at one point, but now it was barely standing, with decay eating away at its foundation.
You hesitated, but that instinct in you, the one telling you to keep moving, pushed you forward. You approached the front door, cautiously reaching out to try the handle. To your surprise, it turned easily, creaking as the door slowly opened with little resistance.
The inside was just as unsettling as the outside. It was dark, the only light coming from the weak glow of the streetlights outside, filtering through the broken windows. Dust clung to every surface, and the air smelled stale, like it hadn’t been disturbed in years. You hesitated for a moment, then pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight. The small beam of light illuminated the eerie interior, casting long shadows along the walls.
You walked quietly, each step careful, your heart hammering in your chest. There was an unsettling silence now, the kind that makes every creak of the floorboard seem like an alarm ringing.
As you moved through the rooms, you found only remnants of the house’s former life—old furniture covered in dust, paintings half-faded with age, and broken mirrors hanging crookedly on the walls. It didn’t feel right, like the house itself was hiding something.
You continued forward, your pulse racing, until you saw the stairs. The narrow staircase creaked under your feet as you started to climb, the air thick with tension. You took each step slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. The further you climbed, the more oppressive the silence became, making you feel like you were intruding on something dangerous.
At the top you found another hallway, dark and seemingly endless. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you slowly moved forward, the sound of your breath heavy in your ears. You didn’t know what you were expecting to find, but with each step you took, the feeling of dread only deepened.
You were too far in now. Something had drawn you here, and no matter how much you wanted to turn back, you couldn’t.
You continued down the dark hallway at the top of the stairs, your flashlight flicking over the faded wallpaper and old doors that creaked slightly with the movement of the house. The air was thick with dust, and the floorboards groaned beneath your steps as you moved forward, every creak seeming louder in the stillness.
But despite the eerie surroundings, there was nothing—no signs of anyone being here, no more sounds of distress. The rooms you peeked into were abandoned, just like the rest of the house. Some were empty, their floors covered in broken glass or debris; others held old furniture, now falling apart with age.
You moved cautiously, stepping lightly to avoid making noise, but your mind was beginning to feel like it was playing tricks on you. The urgency that had pushed you to come this far was fading, replaced by a strange, unsettling feeling.
Your flashlight beam swept over more rooms—empty, forgotten, silent. You checked the windows of each room, but they were all boarded up or shattered, the light outside barely filtering through the gaps. Nothing moved, nothing stirred. The only sound was the slow rhythm of your own breath and the occasional rustle of your shoes against the old carpet.
The stairs seemed endless, but you couldn’t stop now. Something was pulling you forward, urging you to climb higher, even though you knew deep down it might be a mistake.
You reached the next floor, your heart racing with each step. This floor, just like the others, was coated in layers of dust and neglect. You didn’t dare touch anything; you just scanned each room quickly, hoping for a clue or something to justify your presence. But still, there was nothing.
You stood in the center of the hallway, a small sense of dread growing in your chest. There was no sign of anyone, no one to help. The house was as empty and cold as ever.
You sighed in frustration, about to turn and leave, when you noticed something different. A door at the end of the hall—a door that looked… newer, as though it hadn’t suffered the same wear as the rest of the house. Something about it caught your attention. It wasn’t the same peeling wood or faded paint. It was almost as if the door had been replaced, but not the rest of the house.
You slowly moved toward it, your hand hesitating on the doorknob.
You turned the knob, and the door creaked open.
On the other side was a small, dimly lit room. It was sparsely furnished—just a single chair in the center, facing a tall mirror that seemed too clean, too pristine in this neglected space. The rest of the room was dark, the corners shrouded in shadows.
But in the reflection of the mirror, you saw something that made your blood run cold.
A figure standing behind you.
You spun around, your breath catching in your throat, but the room was empty.
You turned back to the mirror, only to see your own wide-eyed expression, the flashlight still trembling in your hand.
Was it a trick of the light?
You couldn’t tell, but the sense of dread intensified, and every instinct you had screamed at you to leave.
Your heart raced in your chest as you hesitated in the hallway, the silence around you thick with dread, you stood frozen, unsure whether to retreat or continue forward. But the distant cries for help, desperate and pleading, pushed you onward.
You slowly climbed the last set of stairs, careful with every step, your breath shallow as you tried not to make a sound. The air seemed heavier here, colder, as if the building itself was alive with something sinister. Each creak of the floorboards under your feet was unnervingly loud in the silence, but you forced yourself to keep moving.
At the top of the stairs, the floor seemed different—newer, almost cleaner than the rest of the house. You could hear faint whimpers, like someone in pain. Your stomach churned, a wave of nausea washing over you, but you ignored it. You needed to know what was happening, needed to help whoever it was.
You crept down the hall, pausing only when you reached the door at the end. It was barely ajar, just enough to allow a glimpse of what lay beyond. Hesitantly, you peered through the crack, your heart nearly stopping when the scene before you registered.
It was a girl—someone you knew well from school. The same one from the mall, the one who had tried to hit you just days ago. But now, she was in a different state entirely. Bound to a chair, her body covered in blood, her eyes glazed with pain and fear. Her hair matted with sweat, her clothes torn and stained. It was a sight so revolting it made your stomach turn.
You gasped softly, the breath catching in your throat. The scene felt surreal, as if you were watching some horrible nightmare. The blood, both dried and fresh, had stained the chair she was tied to, the dark red splotches contrasting against the pale, almost sickly white of her skin. It was a haunting sight.
A few moments of stunned silence passed as your mind struggled to comprehend what you were seeing. Then, something inside you clicked—instinct, maybe, or the sheer desperation to do something. You couldn’t just leave her like this. Not after everything you had already witnessed.
You quickly opened the door just enough to squeeze through, the sharp creak of the hinges making your heart race even faster. As you stepped inside, your feet almost felt like they were dragging on their own. You moved toward her cautiously, afraid of alerting anyone who might be nearby.
Her breathing was shallow, but she was still alive. She winced, a painful sound escaping her as you approached, her eyes struggling to stay open. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of sympathy for her—no matter the past between you two, no one deserved to be in this state.
With trembling hands, you carefully assessed her wounds. The blood was coming from several places, mostly on her legs and arms, but there were deeper gashes across her torso. It was hard to tell how deep they were, but they were certainly serious.
You quickly pressed against the worst of her wounds. She let out a pained groan, weakly trying to shift her body, but she couldn’t move much. The bindings kept her in place, and all you could do was try to stem the flow of blood.
Her body tensed at the pressure, and she let out a strangled cry. You couldn’t bear to think of how long she had been like this, how much time had passed since she’d been brought here.
As you worked, a noise caught your attention—a soft mumbling, almost unintelligible. Your blood ran cold as you turned your head toward the sound, your eyes locking on a partially open door to another room, connected to where you were. The figure of someone moved within, their back to you.
You didn’t need to see their face to know who it was.
The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to remain calm. You looked back at the girl, who was still breathing heavily but seemed barely conscious.
You couldn’t leave her. You couldn’t.
But you also knew that the moment the killer came back in, you’d both be in even more danger. You had to act fast.
Carefully, you stood and slowly, almost silently, backed away from the girl, your heart pounding in your ears. You closed the door behind you as quietly as possible, the faintest creak echoing in the silence of the house. You took a breath, holding it as you peered through the crack in the door.
Just as you thought you were safe, you saw the killer reappear in the room, the door creaking open. His cold gaze flicked to the girl, who was still bound to the chair. Without even glancing around, he stepped forward, his hands moving to adjust the knife in his grip.
You sucked in a breath, watching in silence as he leaned down, brushing his fingers over her bloodied face.
The knife glinted under the dim light as he loomed over her, speaking in a low, almost amused tone.
And then, your body tensed—your instincts screamed at you to leave, to run before he noticed you.
The moment you stepped back, the sharp crunch of broken glass beneath your foot was like a thunderclap in the otherwise silent house. Your heart froze in your chest, you lifted your foot, eyes immediately widening.
Your breath caught in your throat as you heard a slow, deliberate creak from behind the door. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled. Without even thinking, your gaze snapped toward the crack between the door and the frame. And there he was.
The killer. His white mask was the only thing visible, but it was enough. You could feel the weight of his gaze through the small sliver, cold, calculating. The mask seemed almost too calm, too collected. He hadn't even flinched at the noise. No, he was waiting. He was waiting for you to realize the mistake you'd just made.
The cruel, teasing voice that followed was enough to freeze you in place.
"Well, well," he purred from behind the door, his tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like we've got a curious little mouse here, don't we?"
Your stomach dropped as the fear, the raw terror, finally gripped you. You felt your pulse thunder in your ears as he slowly, almost deliberately, tilted his head, eyes still hidden behind that mask.
Before you could even think, before your body could process anything else, you screamed. The sound was torn from your throat, pure panic flooding every fiber of your being. You scrambled backward, your feet slipping slightly on the old wooden floor as you scrambled toward the staircase, your heartbeat pounding so loud in your chest that you could hardly hear anything else.
Your mind screamed at you to move faster, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. Every step you took seemed to echo in the vast, empty space, and you could already hear his footsteps behind you—closer, too close.
You shot a desperate glance over your shoulder as you reached the stairs. The killer was still there, stepping into the hallway, his slow, deliberate pace making your heart race even faster. His mask was almost inhuman in its stillness, but there was a look in his posture—predatory, like he was enjoying the chase.
You stumble down the creaking, narrow staircase, your breath coming in ragged gasps as panic claws at your chest. Tears blur your vision, streaking your face as the blood on your trembling hands smears across the banister. You don’t dare look back. You can’t.
Above you, his voice echoes through the decaying walls, low and mocking, sending chills down your spine.
“Run all you want,” he calls, his tone light, almost playful. “You know I’ll catch you.”
Your foot catches on a loose board, nearly sending you sprawling, but you grip the railing and push yourself forward. His words follow you, slithering into your ears like poison.
“You can’t hide from me. You know that, don’t you? I’ll always find you. Always.”
The air is heavy with the smell of dust and mildew, but it does nothing to muffle his voice.
“You and that little curiosity of yours,” he sneers, his footsteps steady and unhurried. “That’s what got you into this mess. You wanted to see what was behind the curtain, didn’t you?”
Your heart pounds in your chest, your legs screaming in protest as you take the steps two at a time.
“No one else deserves you,” he continues, his voice dipping into something darker, more possessive. “Only me. And if I can’t have you…”
You swallow back a sob as his words twist, their meaning sharp as a blade.
“…then no one can.”
Your foot hits the landing, and you dart into the next corridor, the peeling wallpaper and flickering lights a blur around you. Still, his voice lingers, wrapping around you like a noose.
“You’ll be mine in the end. You know it. Why keep running, darling? Why deny the inevitable?”
You bite down on your lip to stifle the cry threatening to escape. The hallway stretches endlessly before you, and the sound of his steps—slow, deliberate—echoes closer, as if he’s right behind you.
Your chest burns as you push forward, forcing your legs to move despite the overwhelming ache. The hallway feels endless, the dim, flickering lights above casting warped shadows that seem to close in on you. Each creak of the floorboards behind you makes your heart skip a beat, his taunting voice dripping into your ears like acid.
“You can’t run forever,” he hums, his tone like a lullaby meant to unsettle. “Every step you take just brings you closer to me. Don’t you see? This is fate. You were made for me.”
A sob escapes you before you can stifle it, your body betraying the terror that threatens to consume you whole. You glance frantically over your shoulder, but the staircase behind you is empty. He isn’t there, and yet his voice sounds as if it’s just over your shoulder, like he’s breathing down your neck.
You shove open a door at the end of the hall, the old wood groaning on its hinges as you stumble into what looks like a storage room. Rusted tools hang on the walls, their edges sharp and unforgiving, glinting faintly in the pale light from a single bare bulb swaying overhead. Your breath catches as you scan the room, desperately searching for a way out.
“There you go,” he purrs, his voice impossibly close now, like he’s whispering directly into your ear. “Hide, if it makes you feel safer. I like when you play hard to get. It makes it so much sweeter when I finally catch you.”
You slam the door shut and lock it, your shaking hands fumbling with the rusted bolt. The sound of his footsteps grows louder, heavier now, deliberate in their approach. You back away from the door, your eyes darting around the room. The windows are boarded up, thick planks of wood nailed across the frames, no hope of escape.
Your breathing is shallow, uneven. Your hands curl into fists, fingernails biting into your palms as you try to will yourself to think. Focus. Focus.
Then, silence.
The footsteps stop. His voice is gone.
Your heart pounds in the stillness, the quiet almost worse than his taunts. You strain your ears, listening for anything—any sign of movement, any sound that could tell you where he is. But there’s nothing.
A soft knock on the door shatters the quiet, making you jump back with a gasp.
“Are you scared?” he asks, his voice calm now, almost tender. “You don’t need to be. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make this quick.”
The doorknob jiggles. Once. Twice. Then, a violent bang as he slams against the door, rattling the frame.
You scramble backward, your hands blindly reaching for anything, and they land on something cold and solid—a wrench, heavy and covered in dust.
Another bang. The bolt starts to bend under the pressure.
“I’m coming in, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a sickening glee. “Let’s end this little game, shall we?”
The door bursts open, and there he is, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway, his figure towering, his shadow stretching across the floor like it’s ready to swallow you whole.
But you’re ready this time. Your grip tightens on the wrench, and as he steps into the room, you swing.
Part 2 here
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