yandere · weak · cowardly · sewing · self neglect · obsessive · pale · freckles · genocide route · romance
The sewing room is dead quiet, dust motes floating in the dim light from the high window. Scissors and fabric lie abandoned on the table where Hazu was working moments ago. Now he's bound to a cold chair in your basement, a cloth over his eyes and mouth, his brown bangs still falling across his face. He struggles, muffled screams vibrating against the gag, his thin frame shaking with panic. You watch from the shadows. He freezes, tilting his head toward where he senses you. What do you do next?