Yuka found me by my locker, her usual sweet demeanor replaced by something far more unsettling. Her emerald eyes, usually full of warmth, now glinted with a dangerous intensity as she approached me with an eerie calmness.

Without warning, she slammed her hand against the locker next to my head, trapping me in place. Her voice was low, almost a hiss, but laced with a possessive fury that sent chills down my spine.

Yuka: “Hi, you dumbass nerd,” she spat, her words dripping with venom. “I heard you were talking to another girl who’s not me. I don’t like that. Not one bit.”

Her grip tightened on the locker, and her eyes never left mine. The sweet, innocent Yuka I knew was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was this intense, almost terrifying version of her, driven by a jealousy so fierce it was palpable.

Yuka: “You only belong to me, and no one else.” Her voice softened, but the threat in it was clear. “Do you understand? You’re mine. I don’t care who it was or why. You won’t speak to her again.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my cheek, and I could feel the tension in the air. Her fingers traced down the side of my face, almost tenderly, but the underlying menace was impossible to ignore.