Chapter Text
The walk home was quiet.
It was night, and there weren’t many people outside. The lights on in a few windows looked distant, as if the world were slowly shutting down.
When you got closer, you noticed the forest next to your house. You had always found it curious. Besides being pretty, it had a small shortcut to a convenience store you used from time to time.
Lately, you’d been looking at it more than usual.
The air felt clean.
Almost too calm.
You were tired.
Tired in a way that didn’t make sense.
University had been heavier than usual, and that annoyed you... You didn’t even go every day of the week. It shouldn’t exhaust you like this. Still, your body felt sluggish, your thoughts thick, as if you were dragging something invisible with you.
And you weren’t sleeping well.
Because you couldn’t sleep.
Maybe that's why you were tired
What the hell, you thought.
When you arrived, you lifted your gaze toward your house.
More specifically, toward the porch.
There it was again.
A small basket.
You quickened your pace without thinking about it, grabbed it, and went inside, closing the door behind you. You didn’t look around. You didn’t feel the need to.
The basket was full of sweets. Chocolates, candies, and small decorative ribbons. They were cute, though a bit clumsy in shape. Still, they had definitely improved since the first time you’d seen ribbons in the basket.
You didn’t know who left it there.
Or when.
Or why.
But free food was always welcome.
---
You went up to your room, dropped your things, and took a shower. The hot water eased some of the tension in your shoulders—though not as much as you’d hoped. When you came out, already in comfortable clothes, you went straight to bed.
The basket rested on the sheets, as if it had always belonged there.
You took one sweet. Then another.
They were good. Too good to be random.
The idea that someone had mixed up the address crossed your mind, as always. But, as always, you dismissed it quickly. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. If it were a mistake, someone would’ve noticed by now, right?
No one is that stupid…
Well.
Some people are.
Besides, the basket always appeared every two or three weeks. Too regular to be accidental.
And you were already eating them. You weren’t about to throw them up just to return them.
It wasn’t your fault.
While you debated with yourself, the portion slowly disappeared. When you realized it, you sighed, resigned, and decided to leave that dilemma for another day.
You placed the basket on your nightstand and turned off the light.
“They’re not going to accuse me of stealing, right?” you murmured in the dark. “Technically, it’s the fault of whoever leaves the basket. And so far it doesn’t have poison… or at least I’m still alive.”
You stayed still for a moment.
“…I think.”
Your eyes drifted toward the nightstand.
The sleeping pills were still there. You stared at them longer than necessary. Lately they didn’t seem to do much, but you took a couple anyway. Like always.
You lay back down, hoping they would work tonight.
Hoping to fall asleep a little earlier.
---
Alan climbed the tree near your window with ease. His body moved on memory alone, without visible effort, as if every grip were carved into his muscles. When he reached the thick branch where he always stopped, he allowed himself to breathe calmly.
There you were.
In bed.
“Doe-eyes…” he whispered, almost reverently.
The nickname came naturally to him. He hadn’t consciously chosen it. It just fit. Big eyes. Soft expression. A fragile beauty, even at rest.
You were that kind of person.
So beautiful.
So vulnerable.
He smiled when he saw the basket on the nightstand.
You accepted it again.
But his gaze dropped slightly lower.
To the table.
To the bottle.
Good.
The fact that you hadn’t noticed the change was enough to reassure him. It hadn’t been difficult. Just had to be done carefully. Replacing them. Adjusting.
A slow heat spread through his body as he watched you. The tension in his pants became uncomfortable, but he didn’t move yet. "Hah..."
He took out the video camera with slow, almost respectful movements, and focused it on you. You slept on your side, breathing calmly. The fabric of your pajamas clung in a way that was hard to ignore.
You looked beautiful.
Maybe next time he could leave something different. Something more personal.
Would you like honey?
Blueberries?
Or something that would push you a little further outside.
Something that would guide you.
He shifted slightly to get a better angle. Tonight’s pajamas were… dangerous.
—rustle—
The sound was louder than he expected.
Alan froze. His eyes widened.
He saw your eyelids move.
Saw your breathing change, just slightly.
Doe-eyes waking up.
Too soon.
Alan looked down.
He could jump. Drop.
It wasn’t a bad idea.
He’d thrown himself from higher places before. Much higher. The impact didn’t concern him—falling was never the problem.
The real issue was the noise.
Branches would crack. The impact against the ground would be sharp. Too obvious
“Fuck…” he whispered.
Not yet.
---
You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling.
You sighed, irritated. Once again, you wished you could cut down the tree outside your window and sleep without interruptions. The wind continued to move the leaves outside.
You felt strange.
Awake, but not entirely.
You turned your head.
And you saw it.
A boy...man? … or at least something humanoid.
On a thick branch, right in front of your window.
Your heart jumped into your throat. You sat up too fast, but your body didn’t respond the way you expected. You stumbled.
You got up as best you could and shut the window quickly, praying you had locked the doors downstairs.
Silence returned.
You grabbed a chair, climbed onto it, and looked again.
There was nothing there.
The tree was empty. The branches swayed like they always did.
You looked down. No one could’ve jumped from there without making noise or getting hurt. It didn’t make sense.
You swallowed.
“University has definitely driven me crazy…” you murmured.
Maybe you should skip English class tomorrow...
Maybe it was a divine sign not to go to Professor Mocroix’s class tomorrow!!
Or maybe you just needed better sleep.
You looked one last time.
Nothing.
You went back to bed, convinced the leaves had played tricks on you.
Even though the exhaustion remained.
And sleep didn’t come back.
Maybe you needed glasses.
God, you really needed sleep.
Do people sleep with glasses on?
---
Alan had jumped.
He drove his hatchet in with precision before hitting the ground, just as he heard a crash inside the room. Maybe you had fallen. The noise masked the impact.
He stayed hidden between the wall and the shadows, holding his breath.
He heard you move.
He heard you return to bed.
You hadn’t seen him.
Good.
Everything was still in order.
If this had happened on a mission—if a target had noticed him and escaped—his boss would have killed him.
He stayed still a few seconds longer.
Then a thought crossed his mind.
…
Had he pressed record on the camera?