yanderelily-sofii

[yanderelily-sofii]

The key characteristics of hikikomori include a marked avoidance of social situations and interactions, a retreat into one's home (often a single room) for at least six months, and significant functional impairment or distress. While not a formal psychiatric diagnosis in itself, hikikomori can co-occur with various mental health conditions such as depression, anxiety disorders, or developmental disorders.

TW: Drugging, kidnapping, yandere themes, not smut.

Yandere Hikikomori - Akatsuki

The new apartment building you just moved into was... something, that’s for sure. Oh, who were you kidding? This building is awful! It looks like it’s falling apart and rotting from the inside out. But what else were you expecting with such cheap rent?

Your complaints don’t just stop at the building itself, no. Your neighbors are a nightmare, too.

The building has four floors. The first floor is just the reception and some staff rooms. On the second floor, there are six units, but only two are occupied. One belongs to the owner of the building, and the other is home to an old woman and her cats. She seems happy and nice, which is a rarity in this building full of strange people—except for you, of course. And the landlord? He’s just about the biggest jerk on Earth. He must be compensating for the one he doesn’t have in his pants.

The third floor also has six rooms, four of which are occupied. One belongs to a small family you only know because of the ruckus they make. Day by day, it feels like both the parents and their spoiled brat of a child are getting louder and louder. In the second apartment lives a guy you’ve only met in passing. You know a few bits of info about him, overheard in the hallways sometimes. He’s a quiet artist who keeps to himself. The third apartment on this floor is home to a young teenage girl, who you assume stays here because it’s cheap and just a few blocks away from the local college.

As for the last apartment? You don’t know. You never asked about that person, and barely anyone talks about them. You just assumed they liked to keep to themselves, or maybe they’re a shut-in.

The last, fourth floor, is only occupied by you and a man around your age. You’re practically neighbors, yet you barely know his name. Was it Vladim or Valentin? No… maybe it was Vladimir? It doesn’t really matter now, does it? He’s just a neighbor, not someone you need to be friends with. You say ‘hi’ when you pass each other, and that’s about it.

But, no need to dwell on those things. You’ve got work to do. Even though this apartment complex looks like it hasn’t seen a hint of care in a millennium, you and the other residents have weekly tasks. Things like cleaning the hallway windows and sweeping the floors. Every month, one unlucky person gets the ‘monthly check-in’ task, along with the other cleaning duties.

So, what’s a ‘monthly check-in,’ you ask? Well, whenever you clean a floor, you also check on the residents. It doesn’t have to be a thorough inspection of their homes, no. You just knock on the door and see if they’re okay and alive. If they don’t respond, you contact the landlord. He’ll either deal with it himself or call the police to file a missing person report... or, you know, a body report.

Let’s be honest. Your landlord probably made this rule because of the shut-in who lives on the third floor.

Hey, would you look at that? By complaining in your head, you’ve already cleaned the first and second floors! The first floor has no residents, so you don’t have to check on anyone. But now that you’re on the second floor, you have to.

Your landlord said there’s no need to check on him, so the only person you need to look for is the old woman. No need to be scared, she’s nice!

You take a deep breath and head to the door with the number ‘4’ on it. You knock, your knuckles burning slightly from the contact. As you lower your hand, you glance up, and the door opens. A chubby, dark-skinned old woman appears, her face beaming with a warm smile. The scent of freshly baked goods wafts out from her apartment, and a cat meows from behind her.

“Oh, sweetie, is it cleaning day already? Here, let me reward you for taking care of this place!”

Her voice sounds like honey, and her inviting aura makes you melt. You’re about to politely decline and say that it’s your duty as a resident, but she’s having none of it. She insists you take home a fresh batch of cookies she just made, her plump hands holding a pink box of the treats. “Oh, but what would an old woman like me do with so many cookies?” she teases, making you smile and take the cookies.

After exchanging a few more words, she closes the door and goes back to baking.

See? That wasn’t so bad, right? And now you have cookies to munch on as you clean the third floor! That should help pass the time.

You head up to the third floor and survey its cleanliness. Maybe you can just skip this floor. Who would notice? No one! You’ll just check on the residents and move on to your floor.

You walk up to the door with the number ‘12’ plate on it, but as you’re about to knock, you hear a child yelling and being shushed by an adult. Great, that means they’re home, and you don’t have to talk to them. You glance at the apartment door, noticing a small paper taped over the number. You grab it and read the message:

“Sorry, not home today or tomorrow! College class trip!”

Well, that makes it even easier for you. You move to the next door, the only white door on the floor. A fancy number ‘8’ made of marble sits in the middle, making you roll your eyes. What a show-off.

You knock on the white door, and a man’s voice responds from behind it.

“I’m home, now leave me alone! Your knocking is ruining my creativity!”

Rude.

But his voice is there, sassy as ever, so that means he’s alive and well.

You turn to look at the last door on the floor. A dark wood door with the number ‘10’ engraved on it. The shut-in. The hikikomori.

What’s his name again? Never mind, is he even going to open the door? Other people in this building haven’t seen him in months.

Well, you have to try. You don’t want to piss off your jerk of a landlord.

You sigh and knock on the door, this time using your whole fist. But before you can finish your third knock, the door creaks open.

So he does open the door for these checks? Why didn’t anyone tell you?

“Uhm… is there something wrong?”

His voice is shaky, but it sounds like a melody to your ears. This is your first time meeting him. His hair is black and messy, and his pale skin makes his dark eyebags stand out more than usual. He looks sickly. His body is thin, almost frail. He’s small already, but the oversized short-sleeved shirt and baggy pajama pants make him seem even smaller. You glance at his hands, seeing gray bandages wrapped around his arms.

Wait, what was he asking again? Oh, right! You’re here for a check!

You smile at him and explain that you’re just making sure he’s okay and that there’s nothing wrong. He looks so confused.

“W-Well… thank you…” He clears his throat, a small blush appearing on his sickly pale face. “I… have something for your hard work… please come in. I-I’ll give it to you.”

This is the first time you’ve met him, and he seems nice. You don’t want to make a bad first impression, do you?

You follow him into his apartment. A slight odor catches your nose. It’s not bad, but it feels like... maybe an open window would help. But you don’t mention that. It would be rude.

“M-My name’s Akatsuki… by the way.”

His voice is hesitant, unsure. Poor guy probably doesn’t get much social interaction, but he seems nice enough. He closes the door behind you, and you notice how dark and stuffy the apartment is. You pay no mind to the mess; maybe he has that condition where people hoard things?

Akatsuki goes to what you assume is the kitchen and hands you a small glass bottle with a pink drink inside.

“I-I was going to drink it myself, but... you seem like you deserve it more.”

Your smile widens at his words. Why doesn’t he come out more often? He’s such a sweetheart!

You accept the drink and take a sip, the cold, sweet taste overwhelming your senses. Akatsuki watches you, a sheepish smile on his face as you enjoy the drink.

You decide to spend more time with him. His shy demeanor calms your nerves. He leads you to his living room, which is much cleaner than the rest of the apartment.

You do most of the talking while Akatsuki listens, seemingly too shy to speak much. He adds a word or two here and there, but for the most part, it’s just you filling the silence.

After what feels like an eternity of talking, you remind yourself there’s still one floor left to clean. As you prepare

to get up, your body protests, your muscles feeling like they’re chained to the couch.

Akatsuki covers his mouth in surprise, scooting closer to you.

“H-Hey! Are you alright!?”

Wait... what’s with that tone…?

--

You wake up after an amount of time you can’t pinpoint, sitting up in a bed. Wait, you’re in bed?

You look around the small room you're in, recognizing it as what you assume is a hospital room. Did Akatsuki take you to a hospital? Did you seriously pass out?

Your eyes scan the room, noticing the details. In the corner is a TV mounted to the wall. There’s a small circular table in the middle of the room with baby guards on its edges. Over the white, sterile walls are some shelves—some holding plushies and stuffed animals, others filled with books. The walls are decorated with a few fairy lights and posters of your favorite singers and games.

Wait, what kind of hospital would have this?

Your suspicion grows when you realize the room doesn’t have a single window, and there are three cameras in three different corners.

“Don’t worry, my beloved. You’re… you’re safe now.”

That honeyed voice… doesn’t sound warm anymore.

Tears fill your eyes as you stare at one of the cameras, yelling for him to let you go.

“Well, beloved, I can’t do that. Besides, you don’t need to leave. I don’t leave my apartment, so why would you?”

You don’t need to..? Need? That’s right! You need an excuse. You cross your legs and keep staring at the camera, trying to make up an excuse that you need to urinate. Of course, your stupid brain comes up with such a pathetic excuse. But that isn’t your main problem right now!

“Well, you do have your own bathroom, y’know? Here, let me show you.”

And just like that, the speaker built into the camera goes silent.

Wait, what does he mean by "show you"?! Is he going to hurt you? Kill you?!

As these thoughts race through your head, you hear the sound of a mechanical lock and a series of passcodes being entered into a keypad.

You quickly turn, your heart racing, when you hear a door open behind you. The wall you thought was just a wall splits in two, revealing Akatsuki, stepping through. The door is made of thick metal.

“Hehe, like it? It’s made of thick metal. It’s soundproof too. Why was I here again? Oh, right.”

You look at him, a tear slipping down your cheek. An overwhelming sense of dread creeps into your soul. Akatsuki grabs your hand and leads you to another wall as the massive door shuts behind him with a deafening clang. The wall you’re now standing in front of is the one with the TV on it.

He pulls on a small string behind the TV. You flinch and try to move away, but he doesn’t seem to care.

A door opens from behind the TV, revealing a small bathroom. It has a few towels, a sink, a toilet, and a tiny tub.

“Well? Didn’t you need to urinate?”

To hell with the excuse about urinating! Why couldn’t you come up with something smarter?!

You slowly step into the bathroom, but your unease grows when Akatsuki follows you too closely.

“No need to thank me for the design of your new ‘home.’ I made sure everything is to your liking.” The word "home" feels toxic and unreal as it slips from his lips. “Actually… You can thank me. The small amount of social interaction I had with the delivery drivers as they brought all this stuff here—I'd say that was pretty praiseworthy.”

He looks at you, his face full of pride, as if he hadn’t just kidnapped you.

Not receiving praise, or any answer for his efforts, Akatsuki raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to urinate anymore? Well, maybe it’s the sleeping pill I slipped into your drink, making you unsure of what you need. Here, why don’t you try sleeping a bit more?”

Akatsuki leads you back to the white, sterile room and lays you back down on the bed.

“I’ll be just behind the wall. I will never leave, don’t worry.”

He pulls out a small button from his pocket, making the thick iron door he came through open. He gives you one last look, smiles, and disappears.

You hug your knees to your chest, sobbing quietly.

You know your apartment wasn’t much, but in this moment, you miss the moldy walls, the time spent cleaning the hallways. The time when you still didn’t know Akatsuki.

[yanderelily-sofii]

I'm writing for my Yandere! Angel right now, and need help.

A government machine was made to exploit and cage angels.

[yanderelily-sofii]

Not the proudest of how Akatsuki's first fic came to be, but N3XUS on the other hand? I love him.

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[yanderelily-sofii]

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MASTERLIST

Yandere Angel - Uriel

Yandere hikikomori - Akatsuki

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Yandere Priest - Fumihiro

Yandere android - N3XUS