My Girlfriend Wanted an Open Relationship, So I Broke Up with Her and Found a Sweet Yandere - Chapter 27

The parking lot lights flickered on as we pulled in, bathing the glass-fronted electronics store in a soft white glow. I hadn’t really paid attention to where Hayami-sensei was driving until we stopped, and when I stepped out, I had to admit—this place was bigger than I expected.

Automatic doors slid open, and warm air rushed out to meet us. The inside was bright without being harsh, filled with rows of monitors, shelves of components, and the low hum of people talking about specs like it was casual conversation.

Hayami-sensei slowed near the entrance, eyes moving from sign to sign.

“…There’s a lot,” she said.

“That’s normal,” I replied. “Even people who know what they’re doing pretend they’re confident here.”

She glanced at me sideways. “Pretend?”

“…Okay, some of us pretend.”

That earned a quiet laugh. The tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying loosened just a little.

We didn’t even get the chance to wander. A staff member approached almost immediately, polite and efficient, asking what we were looking for. Hayami-sensei hesitated just enough to sell it before answering.

“A desktop,” she said. “For work. And… maybe some casual use.”

The staff nodded and started asking the right questions. Budget. Usage. Preferences. Hayami-sensei answered honestly when she could and vaguely when she couldn’t, and somehow managed to sound completely natural doing both.

I stayed slightly to the side, chiming in only when necessary. Honestly, I wasn’t needed much. The staff explained things clearly, pulling up examples on nearby screens, comparing builds that made sense without overwhelming her.

Hayami-sensei listened closely, nodding, occasionally glancing at me as if checking whether everything aligned.

I nodded back each time.

Everything about this felt… easy.

While the staff went to check availability, my eyes wandered. That’s when I noticed it—one of the demo PCs near the gaming section, running something familiar.

“…No way,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Hayami-sensei turned. “What?”

I pointed at the screen. “That game. I played it years ago. Didn’t think anyone still showcased it.”

She stepped closer, watching the character move across the screen. “Is it good?”

“It was,” I said. “Not flashy. Just… solid. I wasted an embarrassing number of weekends on it.”

She smiled. “You look fond of it.”

“I guess.” I scratched my cheek. “It’s weird seeing it again.”

She tilted her head slightly. “If I get a PC that can run games like that… would you show me?”

The question came out casually. No pressure. No expectation.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ve got a laptop. Nothing crazy, but it handles co-op stuff fine.”

“Good,” she replied, almost too quickly. Then, softer, “I’d like that.”

The staff returned before I could think about it further.

Everything wrapped up faster than I expected. Parts chosen. Build planned. Delivery arranged. Clean and efficient.

As we walked back toward the car, I checked the time.

Still had some evening left.

Hayami-sensei noticed the glance. “Hungry?”

I opened my mouth, hesitated, then closed it again.

She stopped walking and looked at me.

“…You are.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

She raised an eyebrow.

I sighed. “Okay, maybe not fine. But it’s not—”

“My treat,” she said, already unlocking the car.

“That’s not—”

“You helped,” she cut in calmly. “And I’m the one who suggested coming out.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Just… nothing too much.”

She smiled to herself as she started the engine. “I’ll behave.”

The city had settled into evening by the time we drove. Streetlights reflected faintly on the windshield, the inside of the car dim and warm. The hum of the engine filled the quiet comfortably.

I rested my elbow near the door, watching familiar streets slide past.

“…You seem tired,” Hayami-sensei said without looking over.

“Do I?”

“A little. Not in a bad way.”

I shrugged. “Long couple of days.”

She nodded, accepting that without probing. I appreciated that more than I probably should’ve.

The restaurant she parked in front of made me pause.

It wasn’t extravagant, but it was undeniably on the nicer side. Soft lighting behind wide windows. Muted colors. The kind of place that didn’t need a loud sign.

I glanced at her. “Sensei…”

She smiled knowingly. “Relax.”

Inside, the atmosphere was calm and intimate—low voices, warm lights, the quiet clink of cutlery. We were led to a table near the window, tucked slightly away from the center.

As I sat down, I felt that familiar, creeping awareness again. Not discomfort—just the strange contrast of being here, now, with her.

Hayami-sensei scanned the menu briefly. “Anything you don’t like?”

“I’m not picky,” I said. “Within reason.”

“Good,” she replied. “Then I won’t feel guilty.”

I laughed under my breath. “You were going to do whatever you wanted anyway.”

She didn’t deny it.

Conversation came easily after that. Nothing heavy. Small comments about work, about the store, about how intimidating tech jargon sounded when you weren’t used to it.

“I still don’t understand why RAM matters so much,” she said.

“It’s like desk space for your computer,” I explained. “Too little, and everything piles up.”

She considered that. “So… mental RAM is why I forget things when I’m stressed.”

“That explains a lot,” I said before thinking.

She looked at me.

“…I meant,” I added quickly, “for people in general.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Nice save.”

I smiled, feeling lighter than I had all day.

The food arrived not long after. It was good—better than I expected—and for a while, we ate in comfortable silence.

The plates were cleared quietly, the last traces of warmth leaving the table along with them. Conversation tapered off on its own—not awkward, not forced. Just… complete.

Outside, the night had fully settled in.

The air hit me the moment I stepped out of the restaurant—sharp, clean, biting at the edges of my sleeves. The kind of cold that made you aware of your breathing. Hayami-sensei unlocked the car, and we got in without a word.

She started the engine.

I didn’t buckle right away. Just sat there, staring through the windshield as the headlights cut through the dark.

The car rolled forward. Tires hummed against asphalt.

A few seconds passed before she reached for the controls.

“I’m going to roll the windows up,” she said calmly. “It’s cold.”

“…Can you leave mine open?” I asked.

Her hand paused.

Just for a beat.

Then she nodded. “Alright.”

She rolled up her side. Left mine cracked open.

Cold air rushed in immediately, brushing against my cheek, tugging at my hair. It felt grounding. Real.

She didn’t comment on it.

We drove.

Streetlights passed in steady intervals, washing the inside of the car in gold and shadow, over and over again. The city looked different this late—quieter, stripped of urgency. Storefronts closed. Apartments glowing faintly above darkened streets.

The cold seeped in slowly, through the gap in the window, through my jacket, settling somewhere in my chest.

Neither of us spoke.

Minutes passed like that. Maybe more.

She didn’t turn on music. Didn’t ask if I was okay. Just drove.

I appreciated that more than I could explain.

My thoughts drifted in fragments. Nothing clear. Nothing dramatic. Just a dull weight pressing inward, the kind that didn’t announce itself until you stopped distracting yourself.

The car slowed at a red light.

The silence stretched.

And then, without planning to—

“What do you think about bad times?”

The words left my mouth quietly, almost tentative, like I wasn’t sure they belonged in the space between us.

Hayami-sensei didn’t react right away.

The light turned green. She eased the car forward, hands steady on the wheel.

“…Bad times,” she repeated, as if tasting the phrase.

I kept my eyes on the street ahead. “Yeah.”

Another stretch of silence. Longer this time.

“I don’t know…you tell me.” She threw the ball into my court.

[A/N: Again sorry for the delay! It was my birthday on 2nd of Feb… anyways how are you?]