The Demon's Manager (Idol!Yandere!Male x Fem. Reader)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: As the Days Pass

It took a while before a sense of normalcy, or the facade of normalcy, to establish itself in the household containing the two idols and their obsession. After a week, she had gotten a relatively good idea of what the house she was contained in looked like from the inside. It was a small, two story house with three bedrooms that were all on the second floor. (Y/N) learned that Saito's room was directly across the hall from hers, so she began quieting down as she began mapping out her escape route. 

Eita and Saito often had to leave the house for long periods of time and leave (Y/N) locked up in her room. She suspected that this had something to do with the nature of their jobs as idols, but she never knew for sure. But those moments when they were not home provided her with ample time to think to herself and plot her next movements.

Today was a day in which both of them were out, and (Y/N) had been home alone quite a while, fulfilling her plan. Just as she pressed stop on the tape recorder, the sound of footsteps on the stairs prompted her to eject the tape she was using and shove it back into the cluttered box of tapes, tossing in the recorder and shoving the whole thing under the bed.

She began her act immediately.

"Let me out! I'm trapped in here!" she screamed out, pulling herself out of the bed and onto the carpeted floor, "Help me!"

Tears sprung into her eyes as she had taught herself to summon over the two or three weeks she remained in captivity. Her hands slammed on the carpet and she cried even louder as the steps came closer and closer at a rapid pace. This time, Eita was home first. He always ran to her aid when she did things like this; Saito happened to be cruel and took his sweet time while she continued on with her act.

"We're back, my angel," Eita's voice flew through the air like a feather, talking as if he was afraid she would blow him away, "you're okay now!"

"Welcome home..." she muttered, looking down at the bed and frowning.

"It's been a week and a half since we punished you," he squat down next to her and ran his fingers through her matted hair, "I promise it won't happen again. You're not trapped in here, you're okay."

'Funny you say that when that's nowhere near the truth' she grumbled mentally before burying her face into the carpet so Eita could not see her look of contempt.

"You're okay now," he muttered, picking her up and setting her down on the bed, "do you have to use the bathroom?"

"Mhm," she nodded bashfully despite the fact that she didn't actually need to. There were still some things she needed to practice before she could be sure about her escape. Eita, being the more meek of the two, was the best to practice these things with, as he seemed to be ever oblivious to her true intentions and thoughts. Saito, on the other hand, concerned her at points; she was beginning to think that the rapper was suspecting her of something.

Obliging her request almost immediately, Eita picked her up and set her down in the wheelchair that they kept at the far end of the bedroom so that she could not reach it. (Y/N) was uncomfortable with relying so heavily on the two men but she knew that if she didn't, she surely would have died already. Allowing herself to be wheeled to the restroom, she glanced around to see if Saito was anywhere in the area.

"I-Is Toshio home?" she asked, using a cutesy voice in an attempt to tug on the blue haired male's heartstrings.

"No, he stayed back at the studio to write some songs," Eita smiled graciously at her, moving his hand forward to brush through her (H/C) locks, "the media's been pushing us to release something. Even if-"

"Yuito and Kuge are gone..." she said unintentionally, her mood instantly dampening at the mention of their fates. Yuito was forever lost and Kuge was at the mercy of the Japanese legal system which, as far as she was concerned, was built on a system of "guilty until proven innocent." It was a disturbing and harsh way to run things, but the crime rates were so low that it must have been working.