Yours Truly - A Yandere Simulator Novel

01

Chapter One

'Ayano, sweetheart? Can you hear me baby?'

These words were those of Ryoba Aishi's, someone who faintly looked like the famous schoolgirl of seventeen years previously. They were given to the girl who lay on the hospital bed, spoken hoarsely and strained, far from the smooth purr of her usual voice. Ryoba's grey eyes glistened with tears, and wore the heavy bags of a mother who had tried desperately to sleep on the stiff sofa of a hospital, a mother too scared to leave her child's side for even a moment. A mother waiting for the moment her baby would wake. 

Her charcoal hair was messy and tied behind her sloppily, her forehead wrinkled and eyebrows knitted together. She was sat down on a metal chair with minimal padding, holding the limp, seemingly lifeless arm Ayano Aishi - her daughter - lying in the bed before her. It was saddening to see a girl so young in a state like this; her face and hands scarred and stitched, a cannula positioned uncomfortably and unnaturally under her nose, blue sensors on her skin leading to a heart rate monitor that beeped softly in the background. She was seventeen, a young woman, but to Ryoba, she was still her baby. She saw the serious six year old whose chubby cheeks were made for smiling, but whose mouth had never obliged. The ten year old who had grinned for the first time at her father after hearing him cry each night, no matter how hard he tried to be silent. Then, the seventeen year old who confided in Ryoba that she hated never feeling normal, and how she had to act around everyone to be treated properly. The seventeen year old who had left the house with a slammed door after hearing the same advice one too many times. The seventeen year old who had been found at a crime scene with her head bruising heavily and hands covered in fresh cuts, her eyes shut. Her mind asleep no matter how much Ryoba had screamed.

The room in itself was bland, consisting of whitewashed walls and strangely patterned baby blue of the bedsheets, the only colour only from the faded purple edges of the bruise upon the girl's head, hidden mostly by her raven fringe. Her skin was pale and sallow, almost like a corpse, though her steady breathing proved otherwise. She was undoubtedly beautiful, though, and the picture that sat on the table next to her proved it. Their holiday in London had been one of the only times when Ayano had been allowed to be herself. Her father had not been there, so she was allowed to remain silent, she was allowed not to smile constantly. Ryoba had seen the way everyone there (and, frankly, everywhere) looked at her, had noted every shy glance, and every raised eyebrow towards her daughter. She had hoped for something, but no. Try as they might, there was nobody in London for her. That particular photo was taken on the Sunday that they were due to fly back, after she had made eye contact with a boy and blushed. Ryoba had insisted on the boy taking a photograph of them, and it was a nice one at that. Ryoba was smiling widely, but her daughter... her cheeks were dusted with pink and she had starry eyes that were looking slightly over the top of the camera at the boy. After he had handed the phone back, he ran off before they were able to get his name. Ryoba hadn't suggested they follow him, but there was a knowing glint in her eye. She had a brain for faces, and she'd seen his before. The moment she clocked Ayano blush, she knew she would do anything in her power to make sure her daughter was happy, just as the Aishi women had done for generations.

There was something pitiful about the lack of 'Get Well Soon!' cards on the bedside table, but this was no concern of Ryoba. The Aishi family was not one to emote easily - they cared only for their children and partners - so their were no cards from aunts or uncles. There were only three. The one closest to the girl was handmade, featuring a large brown teddy bear that held a pale yellow balloon saying 'Ayano Get Well!'. It was signed in pink italics with Pippi xxx. The card on the windowsill was from the girl's grandparents, and was an expensive shop-bought card made up of swirls and curled writing. The last card was hidden in a locked draw in the Aishi household; a card sent from Akademi High School, a week after the  the incident occurred. Only the few people who didn't know or ignored the rumours had signed the card, and even then, the messages they left were all almost identical. The card seemed to hum with hatred and gossip.