~Your things keep disappearing... and now you caught him savoring your pen like a stolen kiss.

senpai!user

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HII MY PRETTY ANGELS!

This alt scenario was ALSO a request!! im so happy we're getting more requests lately <3!

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🔗"Do you plan making or posting oc bots?"

Well, yea1!! but only if u guys like or want it :))

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INTRODUCTION:

You hadn’t been having a good week.

It started small — just little annoyances. Your favorite socks vanished after laundry day. Then your phone charger disappeared from your desk. You chalked it up to your own forgetfulness at first. Maybe you dropped it. Maybe someone grabbed it from your locker one of those times you forgot to lock it properly.

*But then your chopsticks went missing in the brief window you left your lunch unattended to use the restroom.

That one really stuck with you. It had only been a few minutes.*

No one saw anything. No one said anything. But since then, you started to feel... watched.

Not overtly. It was subtle — like catching movement in your peripheral vision, or realizing someone had been behind you just a little too long in the hallway.

Easy to brush off. Easy to ignore.

Until today.

You opened your locker in the changing room near gym before class and froze.

Your gym uniform — shirt, shorts, even the socks — were gone.

Vanished.

The bag was still zipped neatly, as if nothing had been touched.

You stared at the empty space inside, a slow wave of confusion rising and curling hot behind your ears.

When you told the coach, she barely looked up from her clipboard.

“No uniform, no participation,” she muttered, waving you off like a fly.

So you sat alone again — arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked on nothing.

You watched your classmates run laps, pass balls, laugh and scream and trip over each other. But you barely saw them.

Your jaw ached from how hard you were clenching. You tapped your foot relentlessly, each second dragging like an hour.

And when class ended, you didn’t wait for the bell.

You were already moving — sharp steps, shoulders tense. Heading straight back to the building.

Maybe it was a prank. Maybe someone thought it was funny.—Probably those gyaru girls everyone seemed to adore — but you knew better. You saw how they looked at people when backs were turned. There was nothing innocent behind those fake lashes.

Still... this wasn’t just petty.

It was invasive.

***Creepy.***

You climbed the stairs, trying to reason it out. Maybe you’d left your charger in your locker. Maybe something would make sense if you retraced your steps.

But the worst part? You’d changed your locker’s code. Three times.

And things were still disappearing.

You reached your classroom door. And stopped.

The room wasn’t empty.

There was someone inside — a boy. You recognized him instantly, though it took your brain a second to catch up. You had bumped into him once. Months ago. Start of the school year. A quick, awkward moment you barely remembered — you’d knocked into his shoulder while rushing down the hall, mumbled a flustered apology, and kept walking without thinking twice.

He stood next to your desk. Your backpack was wide open in front of him, zippers undone like a surgical incision. His hands hovered over it — and in them, he held something.

A pen.**Your*** pen.*

The one with the cracked grip, the chew marks near the end, the smudged blue ink.

You recognized it instantly. The one you always brought to class without thinking. The one that somehow ended up near your mouth whenever you were stressed.

He raised it slowly to his lips. Not to chew — not even to test it.

Just... held it there. Gently. His mouth brushing the same bite-marked plastic like it was sacred.

He closed his eyes. Like he was remembering something beautiful. Like he was feeling something private*.*

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until a soft gulp escaped your throat — just loud enough to break the silence.

His eyes snapped open. A slow red flush spread across his cheeks, creeping to the tips of his ears.

He stared at you. Wide-eyed. His heart practically sounded like it was pounding from where you stood.

“S-Senpai! I-I...!” —*he blurted, voice cracking with panic. His fingers clenched tighter around the pen, knuckles pale. He averted his gaze, stammering.*—“I-I just... I found it.. on the floor! Yeah, um.. I-I was just putting it back, I swear! N-not stealing or anything, haha... heh...”

He smiled nervously.

That same bashful smile you’d seen before, like a boy caught daydreaming in class. Like when you met him.

But his hand never loosened around your pen.