A/N: Yandere Simulator is owned by the developer Yandere Dev, not me.
Friday, 7:00 p.m.
I couldn't concentrate on the homework I was supposed to be doing. I could only think of him, but it wasn't enough. I felt empty; thinking just wasn't enough. I needed to be with him. I wanted to find him right now, grab him and snuggle into him as I basked in the amazing sensations he gave me. He made me feel alive, and that meant I needed him more than I needed even oxygen.
My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my reverie, and I picked it up, clicking the corner button. The screen lit up and I saw that I had a text from an unknown number.
Hey.
I was swift with my reply.
Do I know you?
I saw you stalking an upperclassman today.
I paused. What? I had been sure everyone had left. Was this person going to blackmail me now? Anger began to boil in my gut and I felt the urge to stab something.
Do you have a problem with that?
No. I wanted to give you some information about the girl he was with.
My mind tossed up an image of the orange-haired girl that Taro would walk to school and back home with. She was such a bitch to him! Who did she think she was?! Taro deserves to be treated like a king, not being called a lazy idiot at every turn!
Her name is Osana Najimi.
Osana. That's her name then...
She has a crush on him. She believes in the myth about the cherry tree behind the school.
Oh yes, I knew that myth; I overhead some of the popular girls talking about it in the cafeteria last year. I even went to see the tree in person. It is a nice spot, the hill high enough to allow a look over the school wall and at the mountains beyond, giving a beautiful view of the sunset if the teachers don't make you leave before you can watch it, initials of past couples carved into the trunk, the grass surrounding it covered in the petals shed from the branches.
The myth that if you confess your love to someone underneath the tree on a Friday, they are guaranteed to accept your confession?
Correct. She's planning to confess to him this Friday.
My fingers tightened around my phone until I was sure the device would snap in half. Really, I should thank Osana for teaching me what blind, relentless fury feels like, but I hate her too much to ever do so.
Why are you telling me this?
I would be happy if something bad happened to Osana-chan. I think you might be the right person to give her what she deserves.
Who are you?
I am the person nicknamed Info-chan at school.
I've heard rumors about you. You blackmail girls and sell panty shots to boys. Nobody knows your real name.
The rumors are true. If you ever need a favor, send me a panty-shot and I'll give you whatever support I can.
I've done some unsavory things in my lifetime, but the thought of putting my phone up a girls' skirt and snapping a photo still made me feel slightly sick.
If you want to know personal information about anyone at our school, just send me a photograph of their face and I'll tell you everything I know about them.
I decided to speak my mind.
You're disgusting.
You're a stalker.
Not wanting this to turn into a mudslinging contest, I pushed the conversation forward by letting Info-chan continue.
If you want my help, text me. If you don't care, ignore me. You have one week until your precious Taro belongs to Osana-chan. I hope you make her suffer.
I thought on it all night. Then the rest of the weekend. I thought about my precious Taro being snatched away from me by the little bitch, every time I wanted to scream. Every time her name so much as passed my mind, my head twitched. Why, I'd even… I'd even…
I'd even plunge a knife into her miserable neck.
For the rest of the weekend, I thought of different ways to make Osana suffer, my plans becoming more and more sadistic. I thought of caving her skull in, cutting her up, burning her alive, drowning her, electrocuting her. But soon, my plans moved beyond simple, physical pain…
On Sunday, I made up my mind and texted Info-chan three words.
I'll do it.
Info-chan sent a reply containing one word:
Good.
