That's right: I have returned. After multiple years of no updates and no new fics, I bring you this glorious (meh) tale of love and murder. First, a quick note. If you came here from an Author Alert, spotting my name and expecting comedy from the Harry Potter universe, you're going to be disappointed, if not outright horrified. There will be a few funny moments in this fanfiction, but that definitely isn't the focus.

Disclaimer 1: If you are bothered or offended by violence, blood and gore, or sexualization of innocent anime schoolgirls… then why on earth are you playing Yandere Simulator!? Also, this fic has that stuff. So that's a thing.

Disclaimer 2: If I met Midori Gurin in real life, I would give her a hug. This effectively proves that I am not YandereDev, and thus I do not own the rights to the fictitious universe in which this fanfic takes place.

This story will consist of four chapters, which will be uploaded at roughly regular intervals. All four chapters are buffered now, so writer's block cannot threaten this story. So without further ado, we shall begin the tale.

Fear.

There was no other emotion quite so prevalent at Akademi High School. Paranoia was at an all-time high, with students constantly checking behind their shoulders and jumping at the slightest sound. The Martial Arts Club sparred harder than ever before, while the Cooking Club warily eyed their set of knives. Even the faculty feared for their students – although, as role models, they hadn't the luxury of huddling together in a back room.

If the last two weeks were any indication, there was a serial killer loose on campus. The oldest of the staff shuddered to think that history could be repeating itself. In 1989, a seemingly innocent schoolgirl had murdered another girl out of jealousy. Not only did she manipulate the court system to escape scot-free, she made a laughingstock of Japan's police force, who swore never again to touch Akademi with a 3.048-meter pole.

Yet this year was worse. Two innocent girls had already been found brutally murdered. If that wasn't disturbing enough, this killer had proved clever. So far, no evidence had been dropped, and investigators had no leads. The serial killer still wandered the halls of the school, and as long as this continued, no girl was safe.

This year's first victim was Osana Najimi, known for her bright orange eyes, twin-tails, and attitude problem. Her favorite word being "baka," it seemed as if her life's goal was to be the most stereotypical tsundere she could. Info-chan, the school's queen of surveillance, was said to hate her with a passion, but this was never really confirmed.

Her death hit Taro Yamada, a longtime friend, the hardest. He was inconsolable when she was found dead, and had only started to recover by the next week. But rather than let him suffer alone, someone had come to his side – the Cooking Club president, Amai Odayaka. Amai was one of the sweetest girls around, wanting nothing more than for Taro to be happy again.

And then she, too, met a violent and undeserving end.

At that point, Taro was sent home for an extended weekend. His parents and his sister tried to comfort him, but only time could seal the holes in his heart. Not even his favorite hentai could cheer him up. When he returned halfway through the week, he would take just about anything to ease the pain. So when he was invited to see a production by the Drama Club before lunch on Friday, he accepted immediately.

Kizana Sunobu, purple-haired president of the club, played the mother in a short play about a vacationing family. Taro found himself laughing for the first time in a couple of weeks over her over-dramatized reaction to the kids forgetting their luggage at home. After it was over, he headed up front to congratulate Kizana on her performance. Deep down inside, he had to admit he liked her, even if she did have an ego.

"Oh!" She blushed a little. "Thank you, Senpai."

"Don't mention it. That was just really good."

The actress found it hard to look away. There was something about Taro-senpai that was simply irresistible, as if he held an aura meant to attract her.

"Maybe you'd like to come back sometime?" Kizana blushed harder. "We could be in a play together. Like... Romeo and Juliet."

"Um..." Taro chuckled a little. "Well- maybe sometime. I think I better get lunch." He couldn't deny that he found her pretty hot, but romance wasn't on his mind now. How could it, after the murder of two of the girls for whom he'd really felt something?

Back in the club room, Kizana and company stowed the remainder of the props and folded up the studio chairs. She was on the way out into the hall when she recalled that she left her phone in the pocket of her costume. "Forgot my phone," she mentioned to her subordinates. "Go on ahead, I can take care of myself." Surely she could, after all – who would mess with Kizana Sunobu? The brilliant leader, skilled actress, and totally attrac-

"Uh... excuse me?"

The purple-haired girl jumped a little, and turned to face the noise. Standing in the doorway was a petite black-haired young woman of about the same age. She wore a face of uncertainty and a bit of anxiety.

"Yeah? What?"

The girl bit her lip a little. "I hoped maybe we could talk... you see, I was thinking of maybe joining your club."

Kizana placed her hands on her hips, somewhat unimpressed. "You think you've got what it takes to be in drama?"

"Well, I don't know much about acting- but I think I could learn," replied the shy girl. "And I wouldn't know of any better teacher, since you're so awesome at it!"

Sigh. Of course she had to hit a nerve in just the right place. How could she turn her down, when she had clearly accepted Kizana's brilliant skill and beauty? "Fine," she said. "What's your name, anyhow?"

"Aishi," said the dark-haired girl. "Ayano Aishi. Maybe we could take a walk? I concentrate better that way, and it would be safer than being alone, anyway."

Purple-Twin-Drills had to agree. And it wasn't like Ayano posed any threat. If the newcomer proved dangerous, Kizana could crush the little schoolgirl like a bug if she had to; she was sure of it. She left the room with her new acquaintance as she wandered towards the stairs. Along the way, the two girls discussed drama, acting, and how perfect Kizana was.

In no time at all, they had reached the rooftop. Usually, a handful of students hung out there during lunch. This week, however, the ongoing threat of murder had most of them seeking the refuge of the courtyard.

"So that would probably help, at least with speaking lines," Kizana continued from their stairwell discussion. "Close your eyes and imagine yourself in your character's shoes. You just have to remember to keep them open during a real performance. Otherwise you'll look like an idiot."

Ayano nodded in agreement as she glanced around. A quick inspection of the area seemed to confirm that there were no students or faculty hanging out on the roof that early afternoon.

And no witnesses.

Kizana's eyes were still closed as she demonstrated the technique, but they snapped open quickly as Ayano grabbed her forcefully by one of her twin drills and slammed her against the wall. Kizana cried out in pain and confusion, and the smaller girl blocked her mouth with a hand. With her other hand, she drew a dagger. If the Drama Club president were less panicked, she'd have wondered where she had managed to hide that knife.

"Stay away from my Senpai," growled the black-haired girl, her voice low and cracking as though she were on the brink of insanity.

"Taro Yamada is mine – and YOU-" - she plunged the knife between the purple-haired girl's shoulder blades...

"- may NOT-" - she jammed it deep into Kizana's lower rib cage...

"- HAVE HIM!" Ayano grabbed her victim's arm, whirled her around, and tore open her heart with a final stab. This time tomorrow, the Drama Club would be disbanded, its leader now collapsing to the floor in a rapidly expanding pool of her own blood, clinging to her last breath as she desperately tried to plead for help.

Her attempts were futile; with the blood flow sharply cut off from her brain, she was dead in moments. Ayano Aishi stepped away, glancing down at her. Three down, she thought. Who else will stand in the way of me and my Senpai? Right now, it didn't matter – the most important order of business was to eliminate the evidence. Where was that washing station? She glanced up, recalling it to be close to a nearby bench. What she saw nearly stopped her own heart.

Standing before her, a look of horror across her face, was the green-haired first year student, Midori Gurin.