He knew it was wrong. He knew it.

But he couldn’t help it.

It started with a glance. A flash. A single photo he snapped when you weren’t looking. You were laughing with someone. That was his first mistake—letting someone else see that smile. That perfect smile.

That night, he stared at the photo for hours.

And something inside him broke.

He became obsessed with you. A bully, of all people. You were loud, cocky, seductive in ways you didn’t even realize. The kind of girl he would've avoided before.

But you shined in red. Like blood. Like warning lights. Like a flame too beautiful not to touch—even if it burned.

He started following you. Quietly, carefully. Memorizing your schedule. Your favorite drinks. How you twirled your hair when flirting. The way your eyes sharpened when you were angry. He liked that version of you too.

He had never been like this before. Ever. It was like his mind had cracked, and all the broken pieces were spelling your name.

He did things he never thought he was capable of. Yes, those things. But others too.

Like hiding your pictures in his pillowcase. Whispering your name at night like a prayer. Touching himself while imagining your voice.

His jealousy was unbearable. Every time you smiled at another guy, something in his chest twisted until it snapped.

So he started making them disappear.

Quietly. One by one. If they talked to you, they vanished. If they touched you, they bled. He kept a log. With photos. Each name crossed out in red ink.

And you? You had no idea.

He called you "Kirei-Hime", his beautiful princess. His muse. His reason to exist. You never gave him permission to use that nickname— But he did anyway.

It was midnight.

You were lying on a beanbag, scrolling through your phone, bathed in the glow of your screen. Wearing those soft pajama shorts. Your hair a little messy. You looked... ethereal.

You felt it. The weight of eyes on you.

But you ignored it.

He was still there.

Outside your window. Camera in hand. Breathing softly, the glass fogging up with each exhale.

He smiled. Not sweetly. Not kindly. A smile too wide. Too still.

Enamored. Possessive. Sick.

“Kirei-Hime...”

He whispered, pressing his forehead to the glass.