My Girlfriend Wanted an Open Relationship, So I Broke Up with Her and Found a Sweet Yandere - Chapter 34

I could hear the snow pelting against the windows. It was quiet and cold… dark too.

The power was out. A complete blackout.

Before that though—

Even in the dark, I remembered it.

That scar.

I had seen it just moments ago when I’d nearly fallen on her. Pale. Clean. A thin vertical line starting just below the hollow at the base of her throat and running straight down the center of her chest before disappearing beneath the fabric of her shirt.

It was old, completely healed and… almost surgical enough to not be a birthmark—what happened?

I don’t know. Similar to how little I actually know about her.

Other than her being my teacher, everything else is blank for me.

And yet here I am in a predicament with my current position.

Face-first.

Half over my sick, sleeping teacher.

During a total blackout.

Which did absolutely nothing to save my embarrassment.

Still—there was a silver lining.

She was asleep.

As far as I could tell.

I shifted carefully, trying to pull myself backward without disturbing her.

Bad idea.

The moment I moved, her fingers tightened.

Then—

She pulled.

Not aggressively. Not consciously.

Just instinct.

My balance tipped forward again, and before I could stop it, my shoulder dipped into her chest. My hand shot out to steady myself, but in the dark I couldn’t see where I was placing it.

Soft.

Warm.

Too warm.

She made a faint sound and rolled slightly onto her side, her arm sliding around my back like I was something she’d decided belonged there.

“…Mm.”

And just like that, I was dragged closer.

“Sensei,” I whispered under my breath out of habit and regretted it immediately.

No response.

She wasn’t awake.

She was just—

Clingy.

I tried again, more carefully this time, easing my torso away by inches.

Her grip tightened.

And she pulled me directly into her.

My face ended up pressed against her chest.

This is ridiculous.

Outside, the wind howled again. The building creaked faintly in response. Snow scraped along the glass in uneven waves.

The heater was dead.

The room was getting colder by the minute.

Except—

Not here.

Here, it was warm.

Too warm.

Her skin radiated heat through the thin fabric of her shirt. Fever heat. I could feel it clearly from this close, seeping through the contact between us.

She shifted again, unconsciously adjusting until my head was tucked under her chin.

Like I was some kind of oversized pillow.

Her breathing steadied.

Slow.

Heavy.

My hands were awkwardly trapped between the mattress and her side.

I attempted one more subtle escape.

Her arm tightened around me again.

And this time, she made a faint sound of protest in her sleep, her brow knitting slightly as if the loss of warmth annoyed her.

“…Don’t,” she murmured.

I froze.

That wasn’t fully coherent.

But it was enough.

The wind battered the windows again, a sharp rattle running through the frame. Without power, the apartment felt hollow. Every sound was louder. Every movement more noticeable.

And she was shaking slightly now.

Not violently.

Just small tremors.

The cold was creeping in.

Her body was burning up, yet she was still shivering.

I exhaled slowly.

Fine.

Just until she settles.

That’s all.

I shifted carefully—not to escape—but to adjust.

I slid one arm around her waist to steady both of us, making sure I wasn’t putting weight on her. My other hand moved up to pull the blanket higher around her shoulders.

There.

Warmer.

Her grip loosened slightly once she felt covered, but she didn’t let go completely.

Instead, she moved closer.

Of course she did.

Now my ear was near her collarbone. I could hear it.

Her heartbeat.

Fast.

Too fast.

Her skin was hot against my temple.

How high was her fever?

She walked here like this.

In the snow.

Why?

Because she felt responsible?

Because she wanted to make sure I was okay?

I stayed still, staring into the dark.

The wind howled again.

She shifted once more, her fingers fisting lightly into the back of my shirt like she was afraid I’d disappear.

I stopped resisting entirely.

Just for a moment.

Just to think.

From this close, I could feel how warm she was. Not just surface heat—deep heat. The kind that drains you.

And she came anyway.

She’d offered her place.

Her space.

Her time.

Like it was nothing.

Why?

Because I’m her student?

Not for long.

Because she pities me?

She didn’t look like she did.

Because she wants to help… who does that?

The blackout made everything feel more intimate than it should have been. No lights. No distractions. Just the sound of snow and her breathing against my chest.

“You can stay with me.”

Her voice echoed in my head.

Practical arrangement.

I tightened my jaw slightly.

It would solve things.

But that’s the problem.

There’s always something.

People don’t just make space in their lives like that.

Her breathing hitched faintly.

I looked down, even though I couldn’t see much in the dark.

She looked smaller like this.

Not composed.

Not teacher.

Just… tired.

Another shiver passed through her.

The room was getting colder.

That’s all.

My cheek brushed against the fabric at her chest again.

I went still.

Conscious.

Very conscious.

Ugh, God, save me!

***

I woke up to humming.

Soft. Low. Unbothered.

For a second, I don’t know where I am.

Then I feel the futon under me instead of the mattress.

Right.

At some point in the night, I must’ve slipped out and moved down here without waking her.

I push myself up on one elbow.

Winter light seeps in through the curtains. The power’s back—the heater’s running again.

And the apartment smells…

Warm.

I turn my head toward the small kitchen area.

Hayami-sensei is standing by the stove.

Same clothes as last night, but her hair’s tied up in a loose bun now, still slightly damp from a shower. A few strands frame her face as steam rises from the pan in front of her.

She looks… different in the morning light.

I wear I’ve seen her like this before.

The smell hits me again.

Which reminds me—

There was nothing in my fridge.

I watch her for a few seconds longer than necessary.

Then she turns slightly.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I reply, pushing myself up properly.

“Did you sleep well?”

“…Yeah.”

“What are you doing?” I ask, even though it’s obvious.

“You made dinner for me last night,” she says calmly. “I’m returning the favor.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” she replies softly. “But I wanted to.”

I glance toward the counter.

“But the fridge was empty.”

She pauses for half a second.

“I went to the convenience store earlier.”

“You went out?”

“It’s just downstairs,” she says. “It wasn’t a big trip.”

Still.

She had a fever.

She walked here in the snow.

And now she’s buying groceries for me.

“…You shouldn’t have,” I mutter.

“It’s fine,” she says. “You took care of me. Let me do this much.”

There’s a small silence.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Better. The fever’s lower. I showered and took medicine.”

“You should rest.”

“I am resting,” she says lightly. “Cooking doesn’t count.”

She glances at me again.

“When did you sleep?”

The question hits.

Last night comes back all at once.

“I—uh—late,” I manage.

She turns fully now, brows knitting.

“…Are you alright?” she asks, stepping a little closer. “Your face is red. Did you catch my flu?”

“Y-yes, No! No,” I say immediately.

Too fast.

Too sharp.

“I didn’t,” I add, stumbling over the words. “I’m fine. Completely fine.”

She watches me carefully.

“If you’re feeling unwell, tell me.”

“I’m not,” I insist, a little too aggressively.

A pause.

“…Alright,” she says at last, though she doesn’t look convinced.

She turns back to the stove.

I sit there on the futon, staring at the wall.

Calm down.

It was just one night.

That’s it.

…but why can’t I look in her goddamn eyes!!!!

[A/N: I don’t know Yuuta!!! Anyways guys… it’s been 5 complete days in the novel and 6th so from here onwards there’s going to be a series of confrontation so bear with me through it as I love drama as much as y’all]