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dantheserialkillerman · 6 months

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Dan Hiroki X GN!Childhood Friend Reader Pt. 2

Contains: Continuing story and Gender Neutral Reader General warning: Long-post TW: Possessiveness/Suicide/Implied grooming

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful crow. Her wings were like the tips of quills freshly dipped, and her claws sharper than the hook of a fisherman's rod—a perfect little bird. Everywhere she went, the forest's creatures would glance at her in astonishment and envy; no owl, robin or dove could compare. The crow knew this and, for a time, enjoyed their praise. What was love, if not the wish to capture? The desire to own what you could not own yourself? Yet, as the days went by, she could not help but feel unsatisfied, for none would approach her, and, eventually, she found herself an idle idol. That was until, one fateful morning, a hunter entered the wood. The man searched far and wide for the perfect game but would deem all beasts crossing his path too dull, ordinary, and a waste of his talents. His frustrations grew until his eyes fell upon the beautiful crow. Having never seen such perfection, the man raised his gun and decided such magnificence could not exist without his consent. In that final breath, staring down the barrel of the rifle, the crow realized a terrible truth: She had finally experienced her first and last act of true love.

You would like to think you will meet again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree.

A memory:

Under the branches, as the rain fell, he leaned his head against your shoulders: "Do you love me?" "Only in summer."

There is a strange beauty in defeat. To give up and to let go is an art so painful and euphoric that few can ever master the discipline. Yet, you could not help but try. You had to say goodbye to a bit of life, an old name, to live once again. Sometimes, still, you could smell the hints of a campfire if you closed your eyes for long enough.

After finishing university and moving away from your relative who took you in, you travelled around Japan for a while. It took years to get used to the constant hustle and bustle of the world, and you often felt displaced in the city's hectic life compared to the countryside you grew up in. However, life had finally returned to a somewhat more peaceful state. Not exactly familiar, but it was a softer difference. Recently, you were appointed as a history teacher in a small-town high school. It was a safer career than you had once dreamed of, but it would keep you hidden. That's all that mattered. You enjoyed the mountains near the town.

When you first arrived, some things were unexpectedly painful. The starting months felt like a constant exorcism, a battle not to jump and think you summoned the ghosts of old friends whenever a student came up to ask a question. But the pain was comforting in a way. They had lived and affected the world around them. Even if it was silently, you could carry their legacy and find forgiveness in supplying a future to others. A future they were denied. This was your cleansing.

The students on their end were pleasant, consistently hard-working and upbeat. And, of course, over time, you developed favourites: the creative Hana Kai, the outspoken Yuki Yamamoto, and, especially, the thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa.

Strangely, even with your reservations about closeness, you became rather popular, even finding, at the end of some classes, notes left on your desk:

Dear Teacher, Thank you for the class. Dear Teacher, I am glad you are feeling better. Dear Teacher, Please smile more often.

Despite years of developing a numb compliance with life, you could not help but feel touched. It was nice to be liked and somewhat accepted back into a community, even if it was only a false image they loved.

However, you could not help but wonder what they would do if they knew that one of their favourite teachers, at night, away from their wool sweaters and bad jokes, dreamt of stone cottages and warm summers? How could they understand how your mind was captured by the sea and the calling of the woods? Even worse, you couldn't imagine their judgment if they knew of the gray eyes that haunted your subconscious. A demon. Shuten-dōji with a laugh:

I could just die for you. I could just kill for you. And I could just love you until the end. I am you, and you are me. Cut off my head, and I'll grow another on the back of your mind.

You would wake in terror and yearning. Most nights, you could not go back to sleep. Instead, you would find yourself sitting at the kitchen table, marking or reading anything to suppress the sweet evil lurking behind your fantasies. You had to forget before you lost yourself to dreams.

In the waking world, you distracted yourself with a growing hatred for the biology teacher, Taisuke Henkyoji. In all fairness, it appeared he despised you in return when it became clear you would not fawn over him.

He was from a wealthy family with designer clothes, fancy watches, and a carefree attitude. His name was seen everywhere, from the hospital where his brother, Kusuke, worked as the chairman to the only hotel within town. It was a world so far removed from small village roots, worn clothes, and scuffed shoes that you wondered if you could even find it on a metaphorical map.

However, you could not help but see how he only possessed a dull attractiveness, only passively acknowledged until placed in a position of power. Therefore, it didn't surprise you that he was popular among teenage girls. Yet, out of all those teenagers, you could not help but worry about one in particular. The thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa, who was awkward and sweet, with big dreams and an introverted personality, which reminded you of someone you had to bury so long ago.

Sometimes, you would catch her absent-mindedly doodling hearts in her notebook or fiddling with her phone with a wistful smile. Other times, while walking the halls, you would pass her peaking into Henkyoji's classroom. It was clear she was infatuated with the man.

It was a worrying love. Innaproate and not helped by Henkyoji's overly friendly and even disturbingly flirtatious behaviour. You had even tried to warn him of Nanami's feelings:

"You need to shut her down gently, Henkyoji-san. This whole situation is unhealthy." "And you care, why? Jealous?"

Of what? That comment made you immediately uncomfortable. You tried to go to the principal, who also quickly dismissed your concerns:

"Henkyoji-san is from a highly regarded family. Such a suggestion could sully not only their image but the school's reputation," - a sigh- "There is nothing to worry about, Y/N... especially if the only evidence you have is an off-hand comment and the crush of a teenage girl. Please, don't bring this topic up again."

Yet, it echoed in your mind when you noticed how sullen Shirakawa had started to become. There was a growing dullness behind her eyes, a letting go that was much like yours. You could see a dangerous defeatism.

After class one day, as you saw the young girl merely gaze at her desk the entire lesson, neither moving to take notes nor really paying attention, you decided it would best to ask her to talk:

" Shirakawa-Kun, I just wanted to know if you are feeling okay," You tried to smile empathically, "I know it can be awkward talking to your teacher." "I am sorry, " she rubbed her eyes harshly. " I am just drained." You could see the fear behind her expression. An invisible subject, something cold and dead whose images reflected back a once firey disposition that burnt itself out into ash. "Shirakawa-Kun, I apologize for being so direct, but I know something is wrong." "I really am okay," she paused for a second, fiddling with her bag, "I really have to get home...my mother needs me to help...she'll be worried if I am held up for too long." You sighed, realizing any further conversation was a losing battle, "This may seem unorthodox...but please take my number," you pulled out a piece of paper and began to write, "If you need someone to talk to, call me, and we can set up a time to meet in my office." "Thank you." She took what you handed her with a slight reluctance and placed it in her pocket "Please, even if it's not me, know you do not have to handle this alone. I know what it's like to feel the world crashing into you. I promise."

You closed your eyes as she left and sighed. I know what it's like to love and fear someone in the same breath. I know what it's like to be alone.

It was easy to imagine him there next to you, as you often did, clothed in black, in a nice jacket, and without colour save for his red lips. Ah, what would you do? Is this what you felt like? Fragmented?

You could not sleep that night. Sitting at your kitchen table, reading, until at 1 A.M, a single message appeared on your phone:

Dear Teacher, Thx for everything. It was nice to know someone cares. I hope you have a good night. -Shirakawa

When morning came, you were unsurprised that Shirakawa was absent from class. However, you could not have imagined the reason the headmaster pulled you out of your homeroom.

"Why would she try to kill herself?" "She's a teenager, Y/N! I have no idea why she would do such a thing; I just called you in to let you know about the situation. Do not discuss this with anyone but the staff." "It was him, wasn't it..." "I said not to bring such a topic up again!" "You can't ignore this forever! Please, just listen to me!" "Go. Back. To. Class. We will pretend this never happened."

Guilt spread throughout your body as if you were drowning. How could you have turned away? Why did you not write back? You felt yourself transform into a frightful and hideous creature that had been tied to the buna tree so many years ago. A coward. A failure. Another child almost died because you didn't act fast enough. Kikue. Reo. I'm sorry.

You had cut class early that day and ran to the hospital. My fault. It's all my fault. You needed to apologize in person. You needed to ask Shirakawa. You needed to know the truth. Fuck Taisuke Henkyoji.

Dishevelled, sweating, and breathless, you ran to the front desk and requested the room number.

"Are you...okay?" "Please, I'm here to see Nanami Shirakawa," - a breath- " I'm one of her teachers," The woman at the desk looked annoyed, "Well, you're lucky. It seems she's currently taking visitors; let me phone up the room...I'm not paid enough for this-" A voice...soft... melodious...that itched your memory interrupted, "Is everything alright here?" No...You could not speak. Your throat refused to open. The world swam for a second. "Sir, were just up to see Ms. Shirakawa?" He was beautiful. He looked just like him. "Yes, she seems to be doing...well...as one would expect in such a situation." "Hmmm," she hummed, uninterested, "Sorry to ask this of you as a civilian, but since you are here, could you please assist...who were you again?" "Shirakawa's history teacher," You replied shakingly. It's not him. It cannot be him. "Your name?" The woman rolled her eyes. You took a deep breath. You had changed your name when you lived with your relative. You were not you anymore, even if it was him somehow, "Y/N." "Y/N?" The man turned to you fully. Shuten-dōji. He looked like your Shuten-dōji, "What a..." He paused as if startled before quickly composing himself, "Lovely name..." "It's pretty common," He looked at you with such intensity you thought the ground would swallow you up. It can't be him. It wouldn't make sense for him to be here. You were literally in the middle of nowhere. The lady at the desk signed, "Well, you two are very sweet, but if you could kindly take Y/N up to see Shirakawa, that would be very helpful. I have to talk another call...so..." The man gave the woman a bland smile and beckoned you to follow him. You could feel the sweat build upon the back of your neck; his grey eyes followed you like a snake to a mouse, refusing to let you out of his sight. "You didn't ask me for my name," "I'm sorry?" "My name, would you like to know it?" "Oh, my apologies. I'm just a bit scattered today," "That's understandable, considering..." "Yes, considering I would like to know your name." The man laughed and mumbled, "You sound just like them...look just like them... you could even think," A distant look filled his expression, "It's like looking at a photograph," He seemed to catch himself, "Ah, sorry, I had a close friend that left me many years ago; I lost myself for a moment. I believe we are both scattered today." You wanted to change the subject as soon as possible. A coincidence. It has to be. The world wouldn't be so cruel. The Kirin would not be so cruel. "How do know Shirakawa-kun?" "I saved her from drowning." "What?!" "I'm a very strong swimmer." He glanced at you with subtle amusement, and then a look of distant grief entered his eyes. "My name is Dan Hiroki." You stopped. No. "Is something wrong?" Yes. Something is very fucking wrong. "Oh, it's nothing...It's been just a long day..." You needed to leave as soon as possible, "Actually, I just remembered I forgot something at home-" "Hmmm," He hummed as if thinking, "I think you should see Shirakawa-kun." He stopped and grabbed your arm as if trying to ensure you could not flee. His grey eyes, searching as if trying to figure something out, "I fear she needs all the moral support she can get right now." You bit your lip hard, thinking of a way to escape this. Fuck. What if he recognized you? What would he do? A man capable of killing without remorse, you shivered just imagining the type of torture he would inflict. How could you leave without looking suspicious? "It..." Shit. "Your right. However, I really can't stay for long." He continued to walk, not letting go of your arm, until stopping before the elevator, "You really do look just like them...It's been so long...ah, memories... memories, a cruel mistress." "I can't imagine," the evaluator dinged. "Fufu, for some reason," He pulled you inside, "I feel like you might," You could feel the red string of fate being pulled, "Yes, I would love to get to know you, Y/N."

You would like to think you would have met again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree. You never thought you would meet in a hospital. You never thought he wouldn't recognize you.

A memory:

"Please don't cut off my head, Minamoto no Yorimitsu" "I promise, but only in summer."

One day, you thought you would meet again, surrounded by summer.

A memory:

"Tell him I died. He would come looking for me otherwise. You know why I am asking this. Don't let me bring you shame. Please let me go."

The ride is silent until the final ding. He smiles at you once you reach the right floor.

A memory:

"Y/N, wait for me next summer?" "You know I always will be here.

His left eye twitches and his smile grows.

"Shall we go see your student?" He pulls your arm gently, his now fully lopped with your own. "I don't think I have much of a choice." "Be careful, Y/N," He chuckles darkly, "I might just grow fond of you." "There is nothing to be fond of." You walked out together and felt his hand tighten around your bicep as if worried you would run away.

A memory:

A place filled with tiny stone houses, crumbling temples, and giant windmills with rotor blades like dragons' teeth, gnawing away at the occasional gale. "Do you believe in the Kirin?" "I believe humans are cruel, and Gods are crueller."

The red string of fate tugged again as you headed towards the hospital room and into an unknown future.

You fear Dan would never let you go if he discovered your true identity. You feared much worse than death. There truly is a strange beauty in defeat.

A memory:

This was your home. All you could ever want. "Hey, Y/N, look up! There's a flock of crows." "Actually, I think it's called a murder."

#Just a fun add on #Thought it would be fun to see where Y/N and Dan would be 10 years later #brutal: confessions of a homicide investigator #Long fic #hiroki dan #brutal manga #brutal: satsujin kansatsukan no kokuhaku #manga #brutal hiroki dan #brutal satsujin kansatsukan no kokuhaku #brutal: hiroki dan #hiroki dan x reader #gender neutral y/n #y/n #horror #self insert #TW suicide #tw death #tw depression

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