Chapter 39 — A Room Built Around One Boy
The tablet screen had long gone dark, but Akari Hoshizuki was still sitting there, motionless.
The viral clip of the Rune Swordsman named "Haru" had already replayed more times than she could count. At some point, the app gently dimmed itself, assuming the viewer had fallen asleep.
She hadn't.
She was wide awake.
Her fingers, still resting lightly on the glass, twitched as if they missed the feeling of his voice echoing out from the speakers.
"Haru…"
She whispered it again, softer this time, like repeating a prayer.
She leaned back against her small chair and finally let her eyes wander away from the tablet.
The rest of the room looked back at her.
If someone else had entered that apartment for the first time, they would have been stunned speechless.
Because everything in that room, every corner, every surface, every visible scrap of color, revolved around one person.
Takahara Haruya.
---
The Shrine of a Living Person
On the wall directly opposite her desk, photos were pinned in careful, almost reverent rows.
Haru in the school courtyard, sunlight catching on his hair.
Haru in uniform, walking with his bag slung neatly over one shoulder.
Haru laughing faintly with Saeko and Reina.
Haru sitting alone under a tree, head tilted back, eyes half closed.
Most of the photos were taken from a distance, from angles that suggested someone hiding behind pillars, fences, classroom windows. Still, the focus was always precise. Akari's hand never shook when it came to him.
Small sticky notes were attached near some of the photos, written in neat handwriting:
"12:42 p.m. — he smiled because someone shared lunch."
"Rained today — his hair got slightly wet. Looks beautiful."
"Didn't eat much at lunch. He looked tired. Maybe a bad morning?"
Below the photos, pinned lower on the wall, were printed screenshots from his modeling shoot.
The Hanma Studio images.
Haru in a soft outfit, sitting with calm eyes.
Haru listening to the photographer.
Haru's face in close-up, lit from the side — serene, almost ethereal.
Akari's jaw tightened slightly as her gaze lingered on those.
"Hanma Studio…" she muttered quietly. "You put him under all those eyes. You made the world see him."
Her chest twisted with something sharp and ugly.
Jealousy.
But not of Haru.
She was jealous of the camera.
Of the photographer who told him where to look.
Of the stylists who touched his hair.
Of the studio lights that warmed his skin while she watched from a screen.
Her gaze slid away from the wall and down to her bed.
The blanket covering it was white, clean, soft—
And printed, almost edge to edge, with Haru's face.
One of his modeling shots: a gentle expression, eyes turned slightly aside, a small almost-smile at the corner of his lips.
Her pillow carried another version — him looking straight at the camera.
When she lay down, it was like resting against his shoulder and chest.
To anyone else it would have been horrifying.
To her, it was simply… natural.
She stood up from the chair at last and walked slowly around the room.
Her bare feet barely made a sound on the floor.
She stopped by a narrow shelf.
Several small frames stood there, each holding a photo of Haru, carefully cut and positioned. In one, he was trying to tie his shoe while a girl in his class talked beside him. Akari had framed it so the girl's body was cropped off; only Haru was visible.
In another, he was laughing — not the polite, small smile he often showed in public, but a softer, unrestrained laugh when a classmate had apparently said something funny.
Akari touched the glass of that frame with her fingertips.
"I didn't know you could smile like that," she whispered. "Not at first."
Her voice shook faintly, but her face remained strangely calm.
---
The First Time She Saw Him (Again)
It hadn't started with the modeling.
It hadn't started with the game.
It started in a corridor.
She remembered it with painful clarity, as if it had happened that morning.
She had been carrying a stack of midterm essays, walking toward the staff room. Her steps were measured, posture perfect, expression relaxed into the calm mask she wore for the world.
Then a student turned the corner at the same time.
"Oh—!"
They collided lightly. Papers slipped from her arms and scattered across the floor.
"I'm so sorry, sensei!"
She remembered that voice clearly.
It had been exactly the same as the one in the game clip — soft, apologetic, careful.
She knelt automatically to gather the papers, only for her fingers to brush against someone else's. When she looked up, the air left her lungs for a moment.
Silver hair.
Blue-grey eyes.
A face too pretty even for this world's standards.
But more than that — it was his expression.
Gentle. Worried that he'd troubled her. No trace of arrogance.
He held out a pile of collected essays with both hands and bowed his head slightly.
"I'm really sorry, Hoshizuki-sensei. I didn't look properly."
She remembered thinking,
He knows my name?
Her voice had come out softer than she intended.
"It's alright," she had said. "Thank you for helping."
He'd smiled, small and genuine.
"I hope none of them got dirty," he added.
She had smiled back — the first real smile she'd given another human being in years — and took the papers.
"It's fine," she'd replied. "Thank you, Takahara-kun."
He had blinked once, a little surprised she knew his name, then nodded with that same gentle politeness and stepped aside so she could pass.
The entire exchange lasted less than half a minute.
Yet that was all the time Akari needed to fall.
That night, she couldn't grade a single piece of paper without seeing his face in the margins. Lines from novels blurred. Poetry melted into sound.
She lay awake for hours staring at the ceiling.
No one had ever spoken to her like that in school. Not when she was a student. Not when she was a teacher. No one had ever looked at her straight in the eyes with that kind of innocent courtesy.
Not pity.
Not mockery.
Just… simple kindness.
It was enough to make all the past wounds in her chest reopen at once.
And for the first time in her carefully balanced life, she couldn't close them.
---
How Stalking Begins
The next day, she told herself she would just be… a little more aware of him.
That was all.
Of course, it didn't stop there.
Once you become aware of a star in the sky, you start looking for it every night.
She began to notice where he appeared.
Which staircase he usually used after lunch.
Which hall he crossed to go to the science wing.
Which vending machine he preferred.
How often he stopped to greet the receptionist.
Her free periods, which she once spent quietly in the library, now "coincidentally" aligned more often with times when he would be passing certain corridors.
She never stepped close.
She always stayed at the far end, near a column, half-hidden behind doorways, pretending to reread a paper in her hands while her eyes flickered up to watch him walk past.
She saw him with classmates.
With teachers.
Sometimes alone.
Every time he appeared, something inside her chest loosened, like breathing after being underwater too long.
She started eating lunch a little faster, so she could "happen" to pass near the courtyard windows when she knew his class had their break.
She watched from behind the glass as he sat with a bento box, the sunlight warming his pale hair. A girl shyly asked to sit with him; he moved his lunchbox a little to make space, always polite, never boastful.
Akari noticed everything.
What he ate.
What he didn't.
That on days the weather was bad, he ate less.
She bought the same brand of juice he liked, just to know the taste.
She tried the same snacks when she saw him eat them, even if she didn't care for sweets.
Her notebook, once filled with lesson outlines and analysis of literature, slowly began to fill with another kind of writing.
"Takahara-kun — prefers simple food. Rice with side dishes. Not picky."
"He doesn't drink overly sweet things."
"He's gentle with anyone who speaks to him. Even the cleaning staff."
She didn't call it "stalking" in her mind.
She called it "understanding."
No one had ever understood her.
No one had ever looked deeper than the surface with her.
So she would do it for him.
---
Following the Car
The first time she saw the car, she felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach.
Classes had ended. She left later than the students, staying behind to handle grading. When she finally walked out through the side entrance, she saw a familiar figure at the front gate, flanked by two tall women.
Bodyguards.
Haru stepped into a sleek black luxury car, laughing lightly at something one of them said. The door closed behind him gently. The vehicle pulled away.
Akari stood frozen on the steps, fingers tightening around her bag strap.
"...Right. Of course," she murmured.
He wasn't just a student.
He was a boy.
A rare, precious existence.
Of course he had that kind of protection. Of course he had a family that could afford such things.
She watched the car until it turned the corner and disappeared.
The next day, she came out a little earlier.
The day after that, earlier still.
Eventually, she adjusted her schedule so that she could always reach the school gate in time to see him leave.
Sometimes, she pretended to talk on the phone while standing near the staff parking area. Sometimes, she stood hidden behind a tree, looking as if she were checking the notice board.
Each time he stepped into the black car, she felt that invisible wall between their lives harden.
He rode away toward a large mansion.
She walked slowly back to her tiny apartment.
One day, on impulse, she decided not to stop at the gate.
She walked behind the car instead.
Not too close.
Far enough that she wouldn't be noticed by the bodyguards if they glanced back.
The car moved slowly through the early evening traffic. She followed on foot for a while, until her legs began to ache. When the distance became too large, she ducked into a side street and caught a bus heading in the same direction.
She didn't see the exact house—
But she saw the district.
She saw the kind of area he lived in.
The level of security.
The general route.
That was enough for her.
Later, in her notes, she wrote:
"Leaves school roughly 4:30–5:00 p.m. Black car. Security high. Lives in upper district. Two bodyguards always by his side."
She marked bus routes on a printed map and circled the area she thought his house might be in.
Not to break into his life.
Just to know where he existed when he wasn't on school grounds.
For someone whose world had always been small and closed, simply knowing his world was bigger soothed a part of her that hated uncertainty.
---
A Room Rearranged Around One Name
Akari sat back at her desk now and turned to her computer.
The screen lit up, revealing a row of folders.
Haru_Photos
Haru_Audio
Haru_Schedule
Haru_Notes
Haru_Public_Information
Hanma_Studio_Monitoring
Game_Haru_Clip
She clicked on Haru_Schedule.
Inside was a neatly typed document, divided into sections like a teacher's lesson plan:
School Week (Approximate)
– 7:30–8:10 a.m. — Arrives at school. Sometimes earlier.
– 8:15–2:30 p.m. — Classes
– 2:30–4:00 p.m. — Possibly club, study, or homeroom
– 4:00–5:00 p.m. — Departs (black car)
Weekend Activities (Observed Rarely)
– Little outdoor presence
– Goes out with family car occasionally (mall, events)
– High level of protection
Emotional Notes:
– On days with heavy weather, he appears more tired in class.
– He treats classmates kindly, even those who act overly clingy.
– His smile changes when he speaks to adults vs peers — more polite with adults, more relaxed with some classmates.
She scrolled further down.
There were entries that read less like notes and more like diary confessions:
"When he helped that crying first-year find her classroom, I felt something in me unclench. I didn't know people could be like that."
"He shouldn't have to comfort others. People should comfort him. Protect him. But they just see a rare boy, not a person."
"If only he had met me sooner…"
Her cursor hovered over those lines for a moment.
Then she opened Haru_Photos.
Subfolders by month and year.
Hundreds of images, sorted and labeled.
She knew which day each was taken.
Where he was standing.
Who else had been nearby.
Even her phone's gallery was mostly empty of anything not related to him.
She bought new storage cards just to keep space free.
It wasn't "crazy" to her.
It was "order."
It was "safety."
She was building a world in which he could never disappear.
As long as she had all this, even if the world turned their eyes elsewhere, she wouldn't forget him.
---
Hanma Studio — The Day She Learned He Was Shared
Long before the game clip went viral, there had been another shock.
The first time she saw his face on a modeling page.
She'd been scrolling through an entertainment news site absentmindedly — something to fill the silence after a late grading session.
Most headlines meant nothing to her.
Then she saw it.
A thumbnail.
A familiar pale face.
She'd clicked so fast her finger nearly slipped.
An article opened:
"Hanma Studio's New Mystery Boy Model Takes the Net by Storm!"
The photos were there. Professionally shot.
Haru standing in soft lighting.
Haru looking off to the side, gaze gentle.
Haru wearing clothes chosen by strangers.
For a long moment, Akari simply stared, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears.
On one hand, there was pride — a fierce, possessive pride.
Of course the world noticed him.
Of course they saw what she saw.
How could they not?
On the other hand… the realization that now, thousands — maybe millions — of women were seeing the same gentle softness that had once felt like a secret between her and a quiet school corridor.
Something black twisted inside her.
She scrolled through the comments.
"He's so pretty I want to scream."
"If that's a real boy, I'm going insane."
"Hanma Studio, give me his name."
"I'd marry him just to protect him."
Akari's lips curled, but it wasn't quite a smile.
"You think you can protect him?" she muttered. "You don't even know him."
They didn't know his favorite food.
They didn't know he sometimes skipped the last bite when he was worried about something.
They didn't know the way he rubbed at his wrist when he was nervous.
They didn't know which hallways he avoided because they were too crowded.
They only knew the version of him that Hanma had dressed and lit.
A staged miracle.
But she knew the unedited version.
That thought calmed the jealousy enough to be manageable.
She created the folder Hanma_Studio_Monitoring, saved every image, every article, every mention.
Because if they were going to show him to the world, she was going to watch them just as closely.
No one would use him without her knowledge.
Not if she could help it.
---
Back to Tonight — Game Boy Haru
Now, after all of that, came something new:
The game.
She opened Game_Haru_Clip and played the short video again.
His avatar moved gracefully.
Sword strikes aligned with rune patterns perfectly.
Dodges timed with minimal wasted motion.
And then there was his voice.
"Let's do our best."
Such a simple line.
But it was him.
Her ears recognized it before her brain did.
She opened a new document: Haru_Online_Identity
She began to type.
In-game nickname: Haru
Game: World of Ancient Ruins – Path to Heaven
Class: Rune Swordsman
Style: Pattern-reader, calm player, optimizes positioning. Not panicky.
Her fingers flew, spilling more thoughts onto the keyboard.
He said in party chat that he doesn't go outside much. That matches his real-life situation.
He laughed quietly when someone called him newbie. He never shows off. Exactly like at school.
Even online, he doesn't brag. Just says, "Let's do our best."
She sat back for a moment and inhaled slowly.
"Haru…" she murmured. "Even in a game you're like this. You just want to do well and not trouble anyone, isn't that right?"
Her expression softened, almost fragile.
Then hardened again when she remembered the girls in his class, crowding around him during lunch. The modelling staff. Random fans online.
There were so many hands reaching for him.
So many eyes.
"I won't let them take you away," she whispered. "Not completely."
The idea of joining the game flickered at the back of her mind.
She could create an account.
Make a cute character.
Stay near him.
Help him in dungeons.
But she didn't move toward that yet.
Not tonight.
She wasn't ready to step into his world so directly.
She preferred, for now, to learn everything first.
---
The Things She Never Had
As she closed a few windows on the computer, her eyes caught a reflection in the blank portion of the screen.
A woman in her mid-twenties.
Well-kept hair.
Neat clothes.
Calm face.
No one at school would suspect what her room looked like.
No one would think she had once beaten her bullies so badly she'd been expelled.
No one would imagine that, as a child, she'd sat alone at the edge of playgrounds, knees drawn up, watching other girls gather and laugh, never joining them because the idea of being rejected again hurt too much.
She had never had a crush.
Never had a partner.
Never even had a real friend she could tell everything to.
Loneliness had become part of her bones.
Silence, her second skin.
Haru had broken that without meaning to.
With just one small smile and one polite apology in a corridor, he cracked open a part of her she thought had died.
Now, that part had grown teeth.
"I won't lose you," she whispered into the dim air.
---
Watching Him From Afar
Later that night, Akari put on a long coat, slipped her phone into her pocket, and stepped outside.
The city was calmer at this hour.
Street lamps cast yellow light on the pavement.
A few cars rolled past lazily.
She took a bus toward the upper district.
She didn't go often. Not enough to be noticed.
Just sometimes.
Just enough to reassure herself that his world still existed beyond screens and papers.
As the bus passed near the familiar area, she stepped down and walked along the quiet sidewalk. Large gated houses loomed behind trimmed hedges, windows lit softly.
She kept her distance.
She didn't need to know exactly which house was his.
It was enough to know he was somewhere nearby.
Somewhere behind those walls, maybe sitting in his room, maybe lying on his bed, maybe holding his phone… maybe thinking about tomorrow's modeling… or school… or nothing at all.
She stopped at an intersection where a tall tree stood.
From there, she could see a row of windows from one particular mansion.
A light was on in a second-floor room.
For some reason, she liked to imagine that was his.
She leaned against the tree and watched quietly.
"You're there," she murmured. "And I'm here."
Her fingers brushed the small photo she kept inside her coat pocket — a printed image of him in uniform, cut neatly down to just his upper body.
"I'll protect you," she said softly. "Even if you never know."
She tilted her head, listening to the distant sounds of the city.
Cars.
A dog barking.
A faint laugh somewhere.
It all felt far away.
The only thing that felt real was the small window of light above the hedges.
She stayed there for a while, just watching.
Then she turned away and began to walk back to the bus stop.
As she walked, she thought:
Saeko.
Reina.
That actress.
Those random girls in the comments.
The studio manager.
All of them were gathering closer to him.
All of them thought they had a chance.
"They don't know him like I do," she whispered.
They didn't know his quiet habits.
They didn't know how his eyes dimmed slightly when he is tired.
She did.
That made her feel strangely calm.
"I was first," she said. "I saw you before they did. I loved you before they even knew your face."
The bus arrived.
She got on, took a seat by the window, held her bag close, and let the city slide by in streaks of light.
Back in her apartment, she would add more notes.
More screenshots.
More clips.
She would build her world around him more tightly, more completely.
Because as far as Akari Hoshizuki was concerned…
As the rare boy called Takahara Haruya shone brighter and brighter in the eyes of the world…
She wasn't losing him.
The world was only finally catching up to what she had always known:
That he was worth watching. Worth loving. Worth keeping.
And in her mind, one thought settled like a final line of a story:
"If the world tries to take him from me… then the world is the part that needs to disappear, not him."
Her lips curved into a small, almost serene smile.
She unlocked her door, stepped back into her shrine-like room, and closed it gently behind her.
The walls full of his face greeted her in silence.
She felt at home.
---
— To be continued…
+———————+——+————————+
Author Note 📝
Phewwww… that was a LOT of drama for one day.
I basically dropped a whole psychological bomb in this chapter, didn't I?
Yes yes, I know. I could literally hear you all going:
"BRO WHAT IS THIS?! WHO SUMMONED A LEVEL-100 YANDERE BOSS??"
But hey, the story needed spice, right?
Today's chapter had enough drama to qualify as a full TV series episode, so tomorrow I promise we'll balance it with something fun and interesting. Get ready for chaos, comedy, and… even more chaos.
Oh, and by the way—
Our dear Akari-sensei has now decided to download the same game Haruya plays.
Yes. She plans to FIND him in-game.
Yes. That means she's entering the battlefield.
Now imagine what's going to happen when she logs in…
And sees not one, but TWO girls — Reina and Saeko — already guarding Haru like knight bodyguards.
Just… imagine that collision.
Imagine the jealousy level.
Imagine the EXP required to survive that encounter.
So prepare yourself, my dear readers.
Tomorrow's chapters are going to be wild.
Very wild.
Pray for Haru's peaceful life… because he's not getting one anytime soon.
— king_fuzu