My Girlfriend Wanted an Open Relationship, So I Broke Up with Her and Found a Sweet Yandere - Chapter 22

Yuuta turned around.

For a fraction of a second, his mind refused to process what his eyes were seeing—like a delayed echo, a half-remembered dream trying to force itself into reality.

Then it clicked.

The girl stood a few feet away, frozen in place, clutching her smartphone so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She was shorter than him, noticeably so, her frame slimmer, softer—but the resemblance was unmistakable. The same dark hair, pulled back neatly. The same eyes. His eyes.

She wore a high school uniform—navy skirt, pale blouse, blazer folded over one arm. An all-girls school uniform he recognized instantly, even after all these years.

Yuuri.

His younger sister.

The world lurched.

Yuuta’s vision narrowed, a sharp ringing flooding his ears as if someone had screamed right behind him. His chest tightened violently, heart slamming against his ribs so hard it hurt. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

Why.

The thought hit him with such force it felt physical.

Why was she here?

Why now?

Why here?

Yuuri shifted her weight nervously, taking a hesitant half-step forward before stopping herself. She looked thinner than he remembered. Paler. Her shoulders were drawn inward, posture protective, like she was bracing for impact that hadn’t come yet.

“Nii… Nii-chan…”

Her voice wavered.

She swallowed hard, lips trembling. “H-Hi… how are—”

Her throat caught. The words tangled together, collapsing under their own weight. She tried again, breath hitching this time.

“How are… you…?”

Her eyes shone, glassy, tears pooling but not yet falling.

Yuuta didn’t respond.

He couldn’t.

His head was screaming, thoughts crashing into each other without order or sense. His palms were slick with sweat. His fingers tightened unconsciously around the thick envelope he was still holding, crumpling its edge slightly.

The irony made him dizzy.

Everything he’d never said. Everything he’d written down, sealed away, hidden from the world—answers meant for someone, someday.

Just not her.

Never her.

His pulse roared in his ears as Yuuri finally broke.

She moved suddenly, closing the distance between them in a rush of motion, arms lifting—

“Nii-chan—!”

She collided with him in a desperate hug, the impact knocking him back half a step. Her arms wrapped around his torso tightly, clinging as if letting go might shatter her completely.

For a heartbeat, Yuuta froze.

Then disgust surged up his spine like bile.

He grabbed her shoulders roughly and shoved her away.

“Don’t.”

His voice came out hoarse, strangled.

“Don’t you dare touch—”

He pushed harder, peeling her off him with shaking hands.

“—me!”

Yuuri stumbled backward, losing her balance, landing hard against the pavement with a dull sound. Her phone slipped from her hand and skidded across the road.

Silence slammed down between them.

Yuuta stood rigid, chest heaving, eyes bloodshot, rage blazing so violently it eclipsed everything else. Two years’ worth of unspoken anger, resentment, fear—everything he had locked away—burst free all at once.

Yuuri looked up at him from the ground, stunned.

Then her face crumpled.

“I—I’m sorry,” she sobbed, voice breaking completely. “I know I am. I know I’m terrible, I know I—”

Her words tumbled over each other, messy and desperate. She pushed herself up onto her knees, bowing her head as tears spilled freely now, streaking down her cheeks.

“I know I don’t deserve to say anything,” she continued, voice shaking violently. “I know I don’t have the right to ask for forgiveness. I know what I did was—was unforgivable and I—”

Her breath hitched into a broken sob.

“I know I’m bad,” she whispered. “I know I ruined everything.”

She pressed her hands to the ground, shoulders trembling.

“But I still came,” she cried. “I still came because I didn’t know what else to do. Because I—because I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I’m sorry, Nii-chan. I’m so, so sorry. I know saying it doesn’t change anything. I know it doesn’t fix anything. I know—”

Her voice cracked completely.

“I know I don’t deserve you.”

The words washed over Yuuta without sinking in.

They went in one ear and out the other, muffled and distant, like sound underwater. His body felt disconnected from his mind, numb and burning at the same time.

All he could see was her.

Not like this.

Not crying. Not shaking.

But laughing.

Small hands tugging at his sleeve. A bright, annoying voice begging him to play, to help with homework, to watch something stupid on TV. A girl who had once looked at him like he was the safest person in the world.

The contrast made his chest ache.

He clenched his jaw hard, nails digging into his palms.

Around them, movement stirred.

A couple of neighbors had slowed. Someone across the street stopped pretending not to stare. Curious glances gathered like vultures, drawn by raised voices and tears.

Yuuta noticed.

Panic spiked.

He looked at Yuuri once more—kneeling, broken, exposed in the open street—and something twisted painfully in his gut.

But he didn’t go to her.

He didn’t help her up.

He didn’t say a word.

Instead, he turned abruptly and ran.

His feet hit the pavement hard as he bolted toward the apartment building, heart hammering wildly, breath tearing in and out of his lungs. He didn’t look back. Couldn’t.

The door slammed shut behind him moments later, cutting off the street, the stares, the sobs.

Yuuri was left kneeling on the road, hands trembling, tears dripping silently onto the concrete as the crowd slowly dispersed.

And inside the building, Yuuta pressed his back against the door, sliding down until he hit the floor, chest heaving—envelope crushed in his hand, unanswered words burning holes in his mind.

The past had found him.

And he wasn’t ready to face it.

He didn’t remember when and why but he opened the envelope, inside filled with letters – written by him to…her.

[A/N: Another…drama?]