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

Kaito’s comment had definitely left an awkward tension between us. Normally, I would’ve brushed off something like that, but Sensei’s silence made it feel more uncomfortable.

We walked side by side, the streets of Tokyo seeming unusually quiet. Hayami-sensei lived in Shinjuku, not too far from the university but still a decent walk from my place in Suginami. On a normal night, the walk would take about 30 minutes, but tonight it felt much longer. The only sounds were the distant hum of cars and occasional laughter from nearby bars.

As we finally reached her building, I was about to say my goodbyes and head back when Hayami-sensei spoke softly, breaking the silence.

“Takahashi-san,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to come inside for a minute?”

I hesitated, glancing back at the street. The idea of going home was tempting, but then I noticed the sky darkening with clouds. It was going to rain soon.

“You can stay for a bit, right?” she asked, her eyes reflecting a vulnerability that was new to me. It was different from the composed and confident teacher I was used to.

“Okay,” I nodded. She smiled and led the way inside.

We walked up the steps, and in front of her door, I noticed a nameplate that read Akari Hayami. I realized with a jolt that I didn’t know her first name. She had always been “Sensei” to me, and tonight seemed like the right time to bridge that gap.

She opened the door, and we stepped into a cozy, modest apartment.

“Sensei… thanks,” I said, trying to break the silence as we stood in her entryway.

She glanced back at me, her small smile warm and genuine. “You’re welcome, Takahashi-san.”

The atmosphere felt a bit more relaxed inside, Hayami-sensei’s apartment is a compact, cozy space with a neat layout. The living area, open and inviting, features a small couch and coffee table. Adjacent is a modest kitchen with basic amenities. A hallway leads to a bedroom and a bathroom, efficiently utilizing the available space.

Hayami-sensei guided me to a small, comfortable couch and asked if I’d like anything to drink. I declined, but she smiled and went to the kitchen regardless. Moments later, she returned with a bottle of shiso juice, an expensive-looking cold beverage.

“I can’t drink alcohol with a student,” she said softly, handing me the glass. “But I hope this will do.”

I took the glass, nodding in appreciation. The shiso juice was refreshing, a subtle blend of sweet and tangy flavors. I tried to compliment the drink, but the awkward silence between us made my words seem hollow. The windows showed the ripples of rain and occasional flashes of thunder, adding to the somber mood.

We sat there in silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken thoughts. Hayami-sensei’s eyes were fixed on me, her gaze piercing through the silence.

“Why were you so sad?” she asked, her voice gentle but probing.

For the first time in hours, I felt something break through the numbness. Her gaze seemed to reach into me, pulling out emotions I had been trying to hide. I opened my mouth to respond, but words failed me.

Before I could gather my thoughts, she closed the distance between us, her hand reaching out to grasp mine. The sudden touch startled me, sending a jolt through my body. Her grip was firm but reassuring.

“Let it all out,” she said softly. “I’m here. I’ll listen.”

“I—” I started to refuse, but the weight of everything I had been holding back overwhelmed me….am I that weak?

I began to speak, telling her everything about Haruka, the pain, the confusion, and the sense of betrayal I felt.

As I spoke, the exhaustion and emotional strain became too much. My vision blurred, and before I knew it, everything went dark. The last thing I felt was Hayami-sensei’s hand still holding mine, her presence a comforting anchor in the overwhelming darkness.

I hope this is just a bad dream….cause crying in front of Sensei seems very uncool.

[Third Person View.]

Akari stared at the boy in front of her, her eyes filled with an unsettling mix of concern and possessiveness. Yuuta’s pale, slender face lay resting against her lap, his dark hair falling softly over his forehead. He looked fragile, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to throw herself onto him and hold him tightly—tightly enough to fill the emptiness in his heart that she felt so deeply.

Her fingers traced the contours of his face, gently brushing away the stray locks of hair. His long eyelashes fluttered slightly as she touched him, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection mingled with something darker.

“Tempting…” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. Her fingers moved down to his lips, her touch light but lingering as she pinched them softly.

Her breathing grew heavier as her emotions swirled inside her. She swallowed hard, her body heating up with a strange mix of desire and protectiveness.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small white bottle, its contents meant to ensure that Yuuta remained asleep through the night. “This should keep him sleeping for a while,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving his peaceful, vulnerable face.

Gently, she picked up his head, moving it so that it rested comfortably on her lap. Her fingers continued to stroke his hair in a rhythmic, soothing motion. Each touch was filled with a longing that bordered on obsessive, a deep, unsettling need to be close to him, to care for him in a way that was both comforting and controlling.

As she gazed down at him, her heart raced with a mixture of tenderness and a possessive urge that she struggled to contain. The quiet of the apartment, the sound of the rain against the windows, and the rhythmic brushing of her hand against his head created a scene of unsettling calm—one that she found both comforting and hauntingly intense.

“That bitch can never hurt…..my Yuuta.”

[A/N: Whoa whoa whoa! Need a backstory…h-how!!!?]