My Girlfriend Wanted an Open Relationship, So I Broke Up with Her and Found a Sweet Yandere - Chapter 21

[Yuuta’s POV]

The phone buzzed in my hand before I even realized I was staring at it.

Iroha’s name lit up the screen.

For a split second, my brain short-circuited. Like I’d been yanked out of a different reality and dropped back into my body a little too fast.

“…Hello?”

“Where are you?” Her voice came through crisp and direct, like always. No unnecessary words.

“I’m… uh,” I glanced around, as if the café itself might answer for me. “The café in front of the university.”

There was a brief pause. Not hesitation—calculation.

“Oh,” she said. “I was heading to your place.”

That made me sit up straighter. “Why?”

“To pick up Haruka’s things,” she replied casually, like this was the most obvious next step in the world. “You said you wanted them gone.”

Right.

I did say that.

I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the table. “Yeah, I was going to head back anyway. Just… go there. I’ll bring them hand them over myself.”

Another pause.

“…Alright,” she said. “I’ll be there.”

The call ended without ceremony.

I stared at the dark screen for a second longer than necessary before locking it and slipping the phone back into my pocket.

Across from me, Akari-sensei had gone quiet.

She’d been sipping her coffee slowly, posture relaxed, but her eyes—sharp as ever—had followed my movements with unsettling precision. Now they lingered on my face, thoughtful. Measuring.

“Your friend?” she asked gently.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “A classmate.”

Something shifted in her expression.

“Ah,” she said, as if something had clicked into place. “I think I know who you mean.”

That caught me off guard. “You do?”

She smiled lightly. “I teach her. Iroha Miyu, right?”

I blinked. “Yeah.”

Of course she did.

Akari-sensei folded her hands together on the table, fingers interlaced neatly. “She’s… very capable. Quiet. Observant.”

That was one way to put it.

I nodded, unsure what to add. Silence crept in—not uncomfortable, exactly, but dense. Like there were too many thoughts moving through the air at once.

I cleared my throat. “Sensei… thank you. For everything today. Really.”

She looked at me then. Fully. Directly.

“You don’t need to thank me,” she said. “But I’m glad you did.”

Her voice softened on the last word.

For a brief, stupid moment, I wondered if she meant more than just help. The thought embarrassed me immediately.

Before I could stop myself, I added, “I should probably get going. Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Akari-sensei hesitated.

“Then,” she said carefully, “why don’t I walk with you?”

The suggestion slid in smoothly, almost invisibly.

I thought, shaking my head instinctively. “Ah—no, it’s fine. You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

Her lips parted, like she was about to say something else.

Then—

She stood up.

And before my brain caught up, her arms wrapped around me.

Tight.

Too tight.

Her cheek pressed against my shoulder. Her arms around my back, fingers gripping fabric like she was afraid I might vanish if she loosened her hold.

‘Her chest!’

My entire body froze.

“Sensei—?”

“It’s just a hug,” she murmured quickly, voice low, almost rushed. “You’ve had a rough time. Don’t overthink it.”

Too late.

Her warmth bled straight through my jacket. The faint scent of her shampoo—clean, floral, intimate in a way it absolutely shouldn’t have been—filled my head. My arms hovered awkwardly at my sides, not knowing where to go, what was acceptable, what wasn’t.

My heart pounded.

She pulled back a second later, far too smoothly, like nothing unusual had happened at all.

“There, we’ll meet tomorrow.” she said softly, smiling. “Take care of yourself, Yuuta.”

My face felt hot.

“Y-yeah,” I muttered. “You too, Sensei.”

I didn’t look back as I left the café.

—

The journey home felt longer than usual.

My steps echoed against the pavement, rhythm uneven, thoughts refusing to settle.

It was just a hug.

I told myself that over and over.

Just a hug.

And yet…

I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked faster.

—

The apartment building came into view just as the sky started to dim, the evening light bleeding orange into gray.

Iroha was already there.

She stood near the entrance, phone in hand, braid resting over one shoulder, posture straight but relaxed. When she spotted me, she lifted her head slightly.

“You’re late,” she said.

“Barely,” I replied.

She tilted her head. “Two minutes.”

I sighed. “You time everything, don’t you?”

“Of course.” A faint smile tugged at her lips.

We went inside.

The hallway smelled faintly of detergent and old wood. Familiar. Safe. I unlocked my door, stepping aside to let her in first.

She slipped off her shoes neatly, lining them up by the entrance without being asked. I noticed it without meaning to.

“Want tea?” I asked.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

I filled the kettle, the small domestic motions grounding me more than I expected. The quiet hum as it heated, the clink of mugs, the soft rustle as I pulled tea bags from the cupboard.

Iroha sat at the table, hands folded, eyes following me with that unreadable calm.

“So,” I said, setting her cup down, “what came up today? You said something from home.”

She wrapped her fingers around the mug, letting the steam rise. “Family stuff. Nothing serious.”

I waited.

She didn’t elaborate.

I nodded. Fair enough.

I went to the bedroom and returned with the box. It was heavier than I remembered. Years condensed into cardboard.

I placed it on the table between us.

“These are the things,” I said. “Clothes. Gifts. Stuff she left here.”

Iroha opened it carefully, checking the contents with a professional level of focus.

Then she paused.

“…This?” she asked, lifting a thick envelope.

My heart jumped.

I snatched it out of her hands immediately. “No.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “That’s—important documents.”

How…why the fuck did I put these in there?

Iroha stared at me but she didn’t push. Just nodded once. “Got it.”

I slid the envelope away, exhaling slowly.

I handed her a small slip of paper. “That’s her address.”

She took it, folded it, and tucked it neatly into her bag.

“You know,” she said, standing, “you’re very organized for someone who supposed to be emotionally unstable.”

I should be…but I am not, Akari Sensei’s face popped up in my mind for a second – she really did help me a lot.

I laughed despite myself. “Don’t spread that around.”

She smiled. “Too late.”

At the door, I said, “Thanks. I owe you one.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You do.”

I grinned. “If you ever need help with anything, just ask.”

She studied me for a second longer than necessary.

“Make sure you remember that,” she said lightly. “I might hold you to it.”

We walked down together.

Outside, the air was cool, the street quiet. She stopped at the edge of the building and turned to face me.

“Good night,Yuuta.”

“Night.”

She left.

And then—

“Ni-chan.”

My blood ran cold.

The voice was soft. Familiar. Too familiar.

Every muscle in my body locked as if someone had struck me from behind.

I turned slowly.

And my past stood there.