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This must be more serious than the usual parent-teacher conference, because Principal Vaughn had attended personally. Sarina and Bruce Scott shared worry not with their eyes but with a light touch of fingers, a secret language two people married for decades could speak. (And that mutual yanderes spoke particularly well.)
Principal Vaughn cleared his throat and puffed out his chest in a way that displayed his long, white beard. “Jezebel has always been a good student, very handy with a knife and has all her poisons memorized. This isn’t a disciplinary meeting. We’re simply…concerned about her.”
Coming from a yandere, such words were far more damning than anger or blame. It took a lot to make a yandere concerned. Even one in the educational profession, where people were expected to at least pretend to care about the children. Sarina clutched her husband’s arm tighter.
Principal Vaughn continued, “Recently Jezebel turned down a bribe from a classmate to swap seats. If it had been merely a matter of money or her chasing the same beloved, we would have no concerns. But she openly said that ‘It didn’t feel right’ and seemed ‘kinda creepy.’ I must ask, has she been exposed to foreign media…?”
His voice trailed off as Sarina burst into tears.
Bruce put an arm around his wife. “I’m afraid so. We don’t believe in close monitoring, we’re no parental yanderes. Even so, we couldn’t help noticing that Jezebel has been reading a lot of foreign novels ever since her sister moved to Scotland.”
“A bad influence,” Sarina hissed, anger underneath the tears.
“I happened to see her internet browser open yesterday.” Bruce hung his head. “She was reading stories tagged ‘green flag love interests’ and ‘consent is sexy.’ She was in the middle of a scene where the main character gets rejected by her crush and just…accepts it! They even decide to stay friends!”
Sarina wailed and gnashed her teeth.
Soothingly, Principal Vaughn said, “There’s no need to overreact at this point. Teenagers like to rebel. A young yandere might be drawn to the naughty taboo of asking for consent and taking no for an answer. Or perhaps she’s been watching those harmful TikTok videos about how to repress your inner yandere. That only leads to a greater explosion later, of course. Just wait and see, when she falls in love, such silly notions will entirely go out the window.”
Serena blew her nose into a tissue, then said, “We left town for a week, and she didn’t pull any mischief. She didn’t find someone to stalk. Why, she didn’t even steal any of our heavy duty weapons illegal for minors!”
“That is worrying.” The principal’s eyebrows drew together into a unibrow. “Could she have been radicalized online? There are extremist groups who prey on the youth, feeding them anti-yandere propaganda. Yandere teens can become isolated from their peers as the first blush of love sets in and many friends abandon them for stalking a beloved. The extremists exploit that loneliness. They pretend to be sympathetic, then they start radicalizing our children with a false, gentle, changeable love.”
“I’ll install monitoring software on her computer as soon as I get home.” Bruce sighed. “Jezebel got top grades in hacking, though. I’m sure she can find a way to get around it.”
Principal Vaughn nodded. “Jezebel has always been an excellent student and a strong fighter. Doesn’t she have a cobra lily? I cannot imagine a child with a carnivorous plant being a green flag.”
“She tested red in middle school,” Bruce said. “But middle school color tests are unreliable…and with how she’s been behaving recently…in some ways it would be easier if she was a lemming, we could marry off a lemming, but she’s very smart. She recognizes yandere behavior—then avoids it.”
Sarina clung to her husband’s arm. “I can’t bear to have another child turn out to be a failure! We can’t lose Jezebel too!”
“Don’t panic,” Principal Vaughn advised. “If she’s acting out for attention, then overreacting will only make it worse. I recommend a more subtle approach. I’ll refer her for counseling at school. How about you give her some gifts to encourage her yandere urges? I’ll make a list for you.”
Sarina knocked on the metal door.
Jezebel called, “Come in.”
The vault door had been left unlocked. Sarina despaired for her child. When she and her husband had gifted Jezebel with a small one-room vault, they’d hoped the teenager would use it as a practice for designing a fancier vault. Instead, Jezebel had turned it into a personal study room with bookshelves and a desk. There was nothing wrong with being studious, but at seventeen, shouldn’t Jezebel at least be thinking about how to frame her crush for cheating on an exam as blackmail material?
The door opened easily: no alarms, no traps. Not even a few practice chains on the wall. Jezebel spun around in her wheely chair, her knees tucked up close to her chest. “What is it, Mom?” Her computer screen remained open to a page of vocabulary problems.
How happy Sarina would be if her daughter was pretending to study while spying on a classmate, but unfortunately it seemed unlikely.
Putting on a brave face, Sarina said, “I have some early birthday presents for you. I got them at a sale from a neighbor whose child vaulted a beloved early and doesn’t need them any longer.” It was a lame excuse, but she hoped to prod Jezebel to at least competitiveness if not yandere urges. She dragged the boxes into the vault. “What a great find! All dirt cheap! Here are binoculars, cameras, poison, and knives. Some of these blades specialize in removing different organs.”
“Mom, I’m busy studying for an exam tomorrow. Can this wait?”
What kind of child cared more about schoolwork than new knives? Sarina opened her mouth for a lecture, only to be distracted by nearly stumbling over a white wedge on the floor. She grabbed the wall to catch herself. “Is this a trap?”
Jezebel laughed. “Of course not! I installed that wedge so that the door could always be opened from the inside. Otherwise it could be dangerous.”
With a strangled gasp, Sarina fled in horror from a vault that could not be locked.
Currently Samantha and her partner Sam were the only cops manning the small station. Paradisus was not a nation that needed much policing. Well, other countries might argue they needed more police and laws. Paradisus was not a country that appreciated much policing. Citizens tended to handle grievances privately. Cops only pursued the most blatantly obvious cases, like that crazy lawyer who’d snapped a client’s neck in the courthouse. Even that guy had gotten off on account of the extreme annoyingness of his client.
When a teenage girl approached dragging two heavy-duty black trash bags after her, Samantha confessed to being curious. She sat up straighter behind her desk. “How can I help you?”
“My name is Jezebel Scott.” This was already odd, most yanderes didn’t give out their names so easily at a police station. “I’m here to turn over some dangerous items to the police. They were gifts to me, but I don’t want them. Someone could get hurt if I toss them in the trash.”
Sam left his desk and whispered to Samantha, “What is this about?” He was probably bored because they hadn’t received a single other visitor all day.
“I think she’s trying to bribe us, in a clumsy amateur way,” Samantha whispered back. Baby’s first bribe! It was so adorable, it made her eyes mist over. What did the kid want? For them to turn a blind eye to a crime? Perhaps she was too young to realize they’d do that for a donut.
Jezebel held up the first bag. “This one contains poisons. Of course I double-sealed each one inside another bag to prevent leakage.” She held up the other bag. “This one has knives. I put plastic on the edges to prevent any accidental cuts before covering them in bubble wrap.”
Sam opened the bag to take a look. “These are some good quality knives, are you sure you want to part with them?”
Jezebel gave him a blank look. “They aren’t kitchen knives, what use could I possibly have for them?”
“You could put the poison on them.”
“Then what?” The girl stared in seemingly sincere confusion.
Sam was starting to look confused too. “You know. Love rivals, bodyguards of your beloved, anyone who annoys you enough to pass the legal threshold.”
“I don’t follow.” Jezebel sounded sincere, she must be a great actor.
Samantha lowered her voice. “What could we do for you in exchange for these valuable gifts?”
Jezebel tilted her head. “You could make it so I never need to see these creepy items again.”
The girl was entirely too good at acting innocent. “Mmm, give us a hint. You can mouth the words.” Samantha was an honest cop, which in Paradisus meant she only took bribe money if she was willing to fulfil her end of the bargain.
“There is one thing…”
“Yes?” Samantha leaned forward to pick up on the slightest whisper.
“Could you lecture my parents about giving me dangerous items? It was very irresponsible of them. I’m not old enough.” Jezebel slid two cards across the desk. “Here are their business cards, thanks.”
Without another word, she turned and left the station.
Samantha’s jaw dropped so far, it seemed like it might hit the counter like a cartoon character. Sam rubbed his eyes. “Did we just get recorded for one of those TikTok videos the kids go crazy over these days? Did you see a camera?”
“No, I think she was sincere.” Samantha shook her head. “There must be something wrong with her up here.” She tapped her own head.
Sam asked, “Could she be a lemming?”
“A lemming would have stabbed or poisoned herself. She did an excellent job safety-proofing all the weapons, so she must have some intelligence. Just no common sense.” Samantha picked up the business cards. “Perhaps we should call her parents and warn them that their daughter might have fallen in with a bad crowd influencing her to misbehave. Today it’s turning over weapons to the police, in a few years it could turn into letting beloveds out of vaults.”
Because his wife had done the work last time, Bruce took his turn knocking on his daughter’s vault.
Jezebel called, “Come in.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to hide anything from me first?” he asked with a futile hope.
She laughed. “Of course not! Keeping secrets from my parents would be wrong.”
Bruce’s heart sunk further. He opened the door. “We received an odd call from the police station. You didn’t like the gifts?”
Frankly, she said, “I couldn’t imagine any use for them. But I kept the cameras and binoculars.”
“Yeah?” His spirits raised.
Jezebel held up a certificate. “I’ve joined a birdwatching club. I’m younger than most of the members but they loved my enthusiasm. See this? I took first place in their newcomer competition.” She beamed.
No matter how Bruce tried, he couldn’t manage even a fake smile. “I need to talk to your mother. We’ll resume this conversation later.”
Where had they gone wrong as parents?
Jezebel stood up just long enough to nudge the door closed. Then she returned to the instant messages on her computer. Sorry, Dad interrupted me.
Her sister Lily replied, I understand. Is he still pressuring you to be more like a yandere?
Yes. He wouldn’t even look at my first place bird watching certificate.
I’m sorry. Hang in there! You can’t leave until you turn eighteen, but I’m already working on the paperwork to sponsor you as a legal resident in Scotland. It’s a long process, they are very distrusting of Paradisusians, but I’ll have it ready for you before your birthday. Then we can live together again.
Jezebel smiled, so sincerely that it revealed her earlier smile had been a mask. Thank you, Lily. I don’t belong here. I want to see you again.
It was difficult to contain just how much she wanted to see her sister. With trembling hands, she closed the computer. She needed sustenance.
Her cobra lily plant grew up from her shoulders, spreading wide, the stem hooded like its namesake. The hood flared open, revealing the chamber the carnivorous plant used to trap and consume insects in the wild.
Here, Jezebel kept her precious collection: all the belongings of her sister that she’d managed to save before her parents had shipped everything away. She caressed a wet old textbook. “Lily, my Lily. I need to see you again. How dare our parents send you away?”
And for such a stupid reason, too. Just because Lily hadn’t manifested a power, their parents had shipped her off to live with distant relatives in Scotland and claimed it was “for her own good” because she was “too weak to survive in Paradisus.”
“I could have protected my Lily!” Jezebel clutched her hair. Sisters were more closely related than parents. They shared the same DNA mixture. It should not have been their parents’ choice to take away what belonged to her. They didn’t understand, they used to tell Jezebel that she’d stop being so attached to her sister after she fell in love. Jezebel’s nose wrinkled in disgust. If her parents had ever accepted platonic obsessions as valid, then they would have figured out the truth long before she’d gotten skilled at masking. Even if no one understood why powers manifested, she believed hers had been destined to be some form of lily.
Jezebel buried her face into her plant, breathing in the sweet scent. Different countries had different rules, but in order to become a legal resident in the United Kingdom, she would need years of proof about being a green flag and a perfectly clean record.
Even if it took years, she would find her way back to her sister again. How would her Lily survive without someone to protect her?
As a bonus, annoying her parents was the perfect revenge. They couldn’t even punish her for not getting into enough trouble. They could only suffer. Hmm, what should she do next? Perhaps her next school presentation should be about the creepiness of stalking.