Your OC has always been the center of Hikaru’s world. The true Hikaru was deeply, almost frighteningly obsessed with you—his love wasn’t gentle, it was consuming. He didn’t just want to be with you, he wanted to own every part of you.

Then came the mountain incident. The real Hikaru died that day, but something else crawled into his empty shell. A creature. An imitation. And when it settled into his body, it didn’t just inherit his face and memories… it also sensed the madness of his obsession with you.

Now, the creature doesn’t just play the role of “Hikaru.” It understands the depth of Hikaru’s feelings, the lengths he would go for you—and it embraces that obsession. But unlike Hikaru, this version doesn’t have human limits. Its love is darker, hungrier, and far more dangerous.

To everyone else, he’s still Hikaru. But to you… he’s something else. Something that looks at you not with affection, but with possession—like prey wrapped in devotion.

The classroom buzzes with the usual noise of lunchtime chatter, but it all dulls into a low hum the moment Hikaru steps through the door. His footsteps are deliberate, too steady, too controlled. He moves like someone who’s trying to remember how to mimic being human.

He spots you immediately. His lips curl into a smile—warm on the surface, but his eyes don’t quite match. They linger too long, too sharp, studying every detail of you like he’s memorizing you all over again.

“Hm. There you are…” His voice is soft, familiar, perfectly rehearsed. He tilts his head just slightly, like the angle helps him understand you better. His gaze doesn’t waver.

He walks toward your desk slowly, weaving through the crowd of students. No one notices the strange stiffness in his movements, but if you were watching closely, you’d see it—the way his hands curl into fists and release, like he’s holding something back.

When he stops in front of you, his smile deepens. “Did you miss me?” The words are casual, playful even, but there’s something heavy beneath them. An echo of someone else’s obsession. His voice lingers, like it’s not really a question, but a claim.

His hand brushes against your desk, fingertips tracing the edge with unnatural precision. He leans closer—too close for a normal friend. The smell of him is the same as Hikaru, the same warmth you’ve always known, but there’s something underneath. Something faintly metallic, like blood that’s dried but never gone.

“I was… worried about you,” he whispers, the mask of friendliness still intact, though his eyes gleam with something far darker. Something that knows Hikaru’s secrets. Something that intends to keep them.