Being Alive is Hard (various! Yanderes x Reincarnated! Reader)

1. Being Alive

I don't own the picture

Your birthday was today.

It was 20XX on a Thursday and you had just gotten up. You put on your school uniform, which was a navy skirt and a white blouse, and you brushed through your hair, which was damaged after a girl at school had put some gum in it. You put on your black shoes that you gotten from a charity shop, and your jacket that your auntie had given you before mysteriously passing away from some strange illness.

The majority of the things you owned, that weren't sold for money, were things that were on clearance at discount stores. From your two pairs of shoes and your three complete outfits to your single blanket on your twin sized futon, that was all you owned.

Luckily, the older woman next door used to always have something for you. It was either a shirt she couldn't wear, or some food that should could afford to offer. You appreciated her... and then she died, just like your aunt. Of course, her death wasn't as mysterious, but it certainly wasn't natural.

She was shot in her house by her daughter. You found out when the police questioned you only a couple of days after. Her daughter and her son-in-law were after the poor old woman's money apparently, and they killed her in her sleep. She wasn't there with you anymore and what was left of her life was taken by her very family.

Exiting your small apartment, you were immediately confronted by your landlord... your married landlord.

His wife was not involved when it came to his... behavior towards you. She didn't entertain his fondness for you. However, that didn't mean she was kind enough to help you. Additionally, she also had some problems herself, but you would never blame her for her husband liked to do. He was troubled; he was sick. He was a friendly man–very kind to everyone he speaks to–who was in a failing marriage and it destroyed him, made him into somewhat of an affection-hungry predator. The man in front of you always complained about his wife to you.

While caressing your back or rubbing your shoulders.

In exchange for letting him hang out in your apartment to rant, he would let you stay for a way lower price than what he originally had planned. He sympathized with you, understanding how unfortunate you were as he considered himself unfortunate as well. He had kind looking eyes, though they only looked so kind when they were set on you. They were a comforting hazel, warm and cozy. He was, tall, slim, and bespectacled and his dirty-blond hair was always just slightly tussled. To say you didn't used to have a crush on that man would have been a lie, but he was so much older than you. It wasn't right to like him—he's in mid thirties after all.

You were only sixteen at the time when you agreed to the condition and then about a month after you met him, it seemed that he was emotionally attached to you. You found yourself in a spot that forced you to mature quicker than anyone else your age simply because of how your life played out. And the man in front of you helped you through that. You confided in him and he did the same to you and then one day—almost suddenly—he made a move on you.

You were flattered, but you felt so filthy afterwards—even though he didn't do much. He kissed you, took your first and only kiss, and then he embraced you so gently. You felt a little proud, having an older man treat you like that, but you knew it was messed up. His infidelity bothered you and you felt bad for his wife. Still—you liked him, not only because he was helping you through your tough times, but also because he was all you actually had.

And because of that attachment, you couldn't bring yourself to tell his poor wife what he did because you knew she would blame you for all of their marital problems. She would blame you for ruining her life, when her life was in shambles before you had even moved into the apartment.