My Girlfriend Wanted an Open Relationship, So I Broke Up with Her and Found a Sweet Yandere - Chapter 13 : Cleaning Up

[Present]

Yuuta drew in a deep breath and placed the cardboard box down in the corner of his room, stacking it over another. Both boxes were packed to the brim—one filled with clothes Haruka had bought for him, the other holding gifts she gave him and items she left behind, either by mistake or with the intention of picking them up later. The smaller, more fragile items were carefully wrapped in bubble wrap.

The apartment wasn’t much, just a compact 1BHK. The living room doubled as the main area, connected to a tiny kitchenette where the counters barely fit two appliances. The bedroom was just big enough to hold a bed and a narrow wardrobe, but it had a balcony that overlooked the street, which was the only feature he liked.

[Yuuta’s POV.]

Iroha-san, despite my protests, had wandered into the kitchen and was now busying herself there. She had this habit of showing she cared in her own way, though her expression remained as stoic as ever. For others, she was the epitome of perfection—a beauty wrapped in grace and charm. But with me, the mask slipped, and I could see the awkward, slightly sharp-tongued girl beneath.

The smell of a hearty meal soon wafted through the room. I had to admit, Iroha-san was a great cook—something I rarely experienced because I usually stuck to instant meals to save time and money.

Sitting down, I took a bite and nodded. “Not bad. You might actually have a future as a housewife,” I said sarcastically, smirking.

Her eyes narrowed, and she jabbed back, “And you might actually have a future as a decent human being if you didn’t live like this.” Her tone was sharp, but I noticed how she softened it toward the end.

We ate in relative silence after that, though the meal felt more filling than usual, not because of the food but because of her presence.

After a while, Iroha-san broke the silence, her voice more subdued. “The stuff you packed… it’s hers, isn’t it?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

She stared at me for a moment, her brows knitting together as if deep in thought. Then she finally asked, “Why are you doing this so fast? I mean… from what I saw, you were in love with her, and she seemed to feel the same. Can’t you try to fix it?”

Her words didn’t make me angry, though they stung a little. No, I wasn’t angry at her—I was angry at Haruka.

I leaned back in my chair, sighing. “There are some things you can’t come back from, Iroha-san.” My voice was calm but carried a weight that even I could feel.

She didn’t interrupt, waiting as I continued, “It’s better to get it over with. Dragging it out would only make things worse—messier, more painful. The longer I hold onto it, the harder it’ll be to let go. And frankly…” I paused, drawing in a deep breath to steady myself, “…she’s not worth hurting myself over.”

Iroha-san’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but she chose not to. Instead, she nodded slightly and turned her attention back to the table, letting the subject drop.

For that, I was grateful.

I checked my phone again. The text I sent to Haruka was still marked as unseen. My jaw tightened. It wasn’t anger, not exactly, but something close—a mix of frustration and resentment. She was giddy enough to forget I existed, and the thought of what she might be doing right now gnawed at me.

For a moment, my mind spiraled. Maybe she was out somewhere, laughing with someone else. But I forced myself to stop. No point. I’d done my part.

“Still no reply?” Iroha’s voice broke through my thoughts. She was leaning back in her chair, looking at me with that unreadable expression she always wore.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, putting my phone face down on the table.

She didn’t push further, and I appreciated that.

After the meal, we started talking about what to do for the rest of the day. Iroha mentioned she wasn’t planning on going to the university today, which wasn’t exactly surprising.

“You sure you don’t have any classes today?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged, brushing her blonde braid over her shoulder. “None that matter. Besides, I’m here to keep you from doing something dumb.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Like crying into a pillow all day or staring at your ex’s pictures,” she said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t planning on doing either.”

She looked at me for a moment, as if trying to gauge if I was lying. Then she leaned forward slightly. “What about those boxes? You’re just gonna keep them sitting here?”

I glanced at the corner of the room where the two boxes sat—one big, one small. They were filled with clothes Haruka had left at my place, gifts she’d given me, and other things I didn’t want around anymore.

“I was thinking of mailing them,” I admitted. “Feels weird, though. We live in the same city, but I don’t want to see her. It’s better this way.”

Iroha tilted her head, studying me. “I could send them for you.”

“What?”

“Mail them to her address. I’ll do it,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “You don’t have to think about it.”

I hesitated. It felt strange to let her take care of something so personal, but the idea of avoiding Haruka entirely was tempting.

“You’d really do that?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think? I offered, didn’t I?”

“Alright, fine. Thanks,” I muttered, feeling both grateful and awkward.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, standing up and stretching. “Now, about today. Let’s go see a movie or something.”

“Nope.” I rejected.

“Mail it yourself.” She replied .

“Fine,” I folded.

As she walked to get herself some water, I noticed her checking her phone, her movements casual but deliberate. I didn’t think much of it until she turned back.

“Most of the tickets are sold out,” she said. “Looks like we’ll have to go for an evening show.”

“Works for me.”

Not long after, her phone buzzed, and she answered it, stepping aside. From the way her tone shifted, it seemed important.

When she hung up, she turned to me. “I have to go for a bit, but I’ll meet you later for the movie.”

“Alright,” I said.

Once she left, the apartment fell silent. I glanced at the couch and decided to lie down for a while. Everything—the breakup, packing, the conversation with Iroha—was catching up to me. I needed the rest. The evening could wait.

***

[Author’s Note]

Hey there! If you enjoy my writing, I’d love for you to check out my latest work on the Webnovel app—The Skald of Death.

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