My Girlfriend Wanted an Open Relationship, So I Broke Up with Her and Found a Sweet Yandere - Chapter 32

“A little? You’re burning!”

I slipped her arm over my shoulder to steady her. She leaned into me slightly.

“Haa… it’s nothing,” Sensei winced as she straightened herself and tried to pull away, but failed. I tightened my grip just a little, worried she might lose her balance.

Turning away from the stairs, I carefully guided her back toward the apartment.

“Why are you taking me back there?” she asked, her voice hoarse now.

“What do you expect me to do? Let you walk home like this…?” I might’ve clicked my tongue. “I’ll call for a cab. Until then, you’re resting inside.”

“You really don’t have to—” Sensei muttered, but I ignored her as we stepped back in.

I shut the door behind us with my foot.

The apartment felt warmer than the hallway, though not by much.

“Please… sit,” I said, steering her toward the couch.

“I can stand,” she murmured weakly.

“You probably shouldn’t.”

She didn’t argue again.

I lowered her onto the couch carefully, making sure she didn’t slump sideways. Her movements were slower now, like her body was a step behind her mind.

I grabbed the small cushion from the other end and tucked it behind her back.

“This should help,” I said.

She let out a faint, almost amused breath. “You’re very strict all of a sudden.”

“Just… being cautious.”

I moved toward the kitchenette and filled a glass with water. My hands were steady, but my thoughts weren’t.

Fever.

How long had she been like that?

She’d walked all the way here.

Idiot.

I came back and handed her the glass.

“Small sips. It’ll be easier.”

She took it with both hands. Her fingers brushed mine again.

Still burning.

She swallowed once. Then again.

Silence lingered between us.

“You were sweating earlier,” I said. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“It didn’t feel this bad,” she replied quietly. “I assumed it was just… exhaustion.”

“You looked like you were going to collapse.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“You were leaning against a wall for support,” I said, softer this time.

She didn’t respond.

Instead, her gaze drifted around the room briefly, as if orienting herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“For what?”

“For being trouble. Twice in one night.”

“You’re not trouble.”

“You had already refused me,” she said, voice low. “And now I’m here again.”

I looked away.

“That’s not what this is.”

She gave a small nod but didn’t press further.

I pulled out my phone and stepped closer to the window for better signal. Reception wasn’t great unless I stood near the edge of the living room.

She watched me.

“I’ll get a taxi,” I said. “It’s safer than walking.”

“You don’t need to—”

“I know.”

I opened the taxi app. A few cars nearby. Surge pricing wasn’t terrible at this hour.

Estimated fare to Shinjuku.

¥2,300.

My thumb hovered.

¥2,300.

That’s almost three days of groceries if I stretch it.

I could ask her to cover it… no.

Just book it.

It’s fine.

It’s not like I haven’t spent worse.

I confirmed the ride.

Twenty minutes away.

“It should be here soon,” I said, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

She studied my face for a moment longer than necessary.

“You really didn’t have to,” she said again.

“I know.”

She took another sip of water.

“Do you get sick often?” I asked.

“Not really.”

“When did it start?”

“This morning… maybe afternoon.” She pressed her fingers lightly to her temple. “I thought it would pass.”

“And you still came here?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

I didn’t ask why.

The answer was already between us.

I walked to the cabinet and grabbed the thin throw blanket I rarely used. I draped it over her shoulders.

She glanced at it, then at me.

“You’ll freeze without this.”

“I’ll manage.”

She adjusted it around herself.

“Your apartment is colder than I expected,” she murmured.

“Electricity bill just came.”

Ah.

That slipped out.

She looked up at me, but I didn’t explain further.

We sat in quiet for a moment.

The room felt tighter than usual.

“Actually… that’s not a problem,” I said quickly, searching for the heater remote.

“I am sorry, you don’t have to!” she protested, a little louder than before.

Why did I phrase it like that… ugh.

I grabbed the remote and switched the heater on. “It’s fine. I was going to anyway.”

A low mechanical hum filled the room.

Her breathing had slowed, though it was still heavy.

“You really would’ve walked back like that?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to stay.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She closed her eyes briefly.

“…Yes.”

I let out a quiet breath.

“Sensei, that’s not very responsible.”

She didn’t respond.

The heater continued its soft drone in the corner. It wasn’t strong enough to warm the whole room, but it dulled the chill.

She rested back against the cushion, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, glass of water still in her hands.

“Have you eaten?” I asked after a moment.

She looked at me, slightly caught off guard.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“…Earlier.”

The answer came too quickly.

I nodded but didn’t push.

A few minutes passed like that. Neither of us speaking. Just the heater and the occasional car outside.

My phone vibrated.

I glanced down, expecting the driver notification.

Instead:

[Due to heavy snowfall and road safety concerns, your ride has been cancelled.

We apologize for the inconvenience. Please try booking again later.]

I frowned.

Cancelled?

I walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside.

“…Since when?” I muttered.

Snow was falling.

Not heavy—but steady enough that the pavement already looked dusted white.

“When did it start snowing?” I said aloud.

“What happened?” she asked.

“The taxi cancelled because of the snow.”

I unlocked my phone again and opened the weather forecast.

Across the top of the screen was a warning:

[Severe Snowfall Advisory – Sudden temperature drop expected. Roads may freeze. Avoid non-essential travel.]

I stared at it for a second.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

She shifted slightly. “Is it bad?”

“It’s… getting there.” I looked back at her. “They’re advising people not to go out unless necessary.”

Her expression changed—subtle, but noticeable.

“…So no taxis?” she asked.

“Not for now.”

Silence.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Looks like… you’ll have to stay.”

The words felt awkward the moment they left my mouth.

She blinked. “Stay… here?”

“For tonight. Until it clears.”

She glanced toward the window as if confirming it herself. Snowflakes were sticking to the glass now.

“I see,” she said quietly.

And then—

Her stomach growled.

Loud.

Her face turned bright red— I genuinely couldn’t tell if it was fever or embarrassment.

“…I ate,” she said quickly.

“Right.”

“It’s just the fever,” she added. “That happens sometimes.”

“Of course it does.”

Her stomach made a smaller sound.

She shut her eyes briefly.

I looked away before I accidentally laughed but I failed

[A/N: Damn this snow!]