Chapter Text
"Please," you pleaded desperately, hurrying after your proffesor through the echoing halls. "I swear, just one last chance. I can do better, I know I can!" Tears threatened to well up as you clutched your exam papers tightly.
A year past your expected graduation, you found yourself in this position due to dismal grades.
Your exam results were abysmal, a testament to a year spent more on revelry than study. Parties, fun, and friends had taken precedence, leaving you unprepared and now facing the consequences.
Your chosen path was that of a speech pathologist, a profession driven by a personal issue.
With your deaf mother's struggles with speech and limited ability in sign language due to numb hands, you were determined to make a difference not only for her but for others facing similar challenges.
Division 1 of language pathology was your current battleground, a small cohort of just ten individuals. It was a rarefied group, and you were determined to prove yourself worthy of its ranks.
He sighed heavily, halting in his tracks and adjusting his glasses with a flick of his fingers. "Fine, there's another similar exam in two weeks. This is your last chance, L/n Y/n. Consider it final," Professor Han declared, a note of exasperation in his tone.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" You clasped your hands together, overwhelmed with gratitude as you shut your eyes tightly in relief.
"I won't let you down!" you exclaimed, a surge of determination coursing through you. Professor Han shook his head before continuing on his way. You pumped your fist in the air before pivoting on your heel and heading towards your dorm.
The college campus sprawled across four buildings, nestled within the confines of a bustling city.
Yet, despite the urban setting, safety was a growing concern. Recent gang violence had gripped the city, prompting increased police presence from neighboring jurisdictions.
Just the other day, a woman fell victim to a brutal ambush, her life taken in the dead of night.
It was a frightening reality, but one you often brushed aside, as such occurrences seemed rare. Despite the dangers, you lived a modest life. After your mother was hospitalized, you moved in with Toji and Megumi.
Megumi was your cousin- your mom and his being sisters. However, Megumi's mom passed away when Megumi was barely two years old.
Despite the tragedy of losing his mother at such a tender age, Megumi remained a bright spot in your life, his innocence bringing a sense of hope amidst the darkness.
He was such an adorable kid, and you'd often pop by to lend Toji a hand in looking after Megumi, your five-year-old cousin. Currently, you resided in a dorm with your newfound friend, Hana.
She was a year younger senior, but the two of you hit it off well. Being the oldest senior on campus after having to repeat a year, everyone was a bit younger than you.
However, it had been a month since the semester started, and you just flunked your first exam of the year. Now, you had to retake it to stay on track for graduation.
As you entered your dorm, unlocking the door with a sigh, you found Hana sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in a magazine. "Hey, y/n!" she greeted cheerfully.
"Hey, what's all this?" you replied, noticing a bag filled with Halloween decorations.
"Oh, Halloween's around the corner, so I thought we could get a head start on decorating," she said with a grin, sitting up.
You snorted as you dropped your bag onto the floor. "It's still a month away, but sure."
Living with Hana was a breeze, especially since she was such a neat freak.
She insisted on handling all the cleaning in the house, and while you sometimes felt guilty, she always reassured you that it was her pleasure. "I just love cleaning," she'd say with a shrug.
Hana had always been low-key. She rarely ventured out to parties, preferring to keep to herself with her small circle of friends.
But you? Oh, you used to be quite the social butterfly a year ago. Always at parties, mingling with friends, swooning over attractive guys – you were the epitome of a typical nineteen-year-old girl, just living life to the fullest.
But all that changed when you made the decision to retake a year. Determined to buckle down and prioritize your studies, you gravitated towards a more studious crowd. You had your sights set on that degree, no doubt about it.
"I'm going to go and study, let's go out and eat when I'm done," you told her, grabbing your textbooks.
Two weeks had flown by, and now it was exam time. You felt like a force of nature, having poured your heart and soul into studying. Every concept, every detail – you knew them all like the back of your hand.
Confidence surged through your veins as you received the exam papers. You breezed through each question, not just answering them but expanding upon them with ease. This was it – you were acing this exam without a doubt.
With a grin plastered on your face, you handed in your completed exam, practically floating on air. You couldn't remember a time when you felt this fulfilled after an exam.
The sensation of knowing every answer was intoxicating.
As you stretched and let out a contented yawn, a figure caught your eye. It was Geto, approaching you with a casual air.
"Hey, you're y/n, right?" he inquired, causing you to pause. You recognized him – the guy infamous for running around the campus naked last year after losing a bet.
Tilting your head slightly, you silently prompted him to continue.
"My friend over there was wondering if he could get your number," Geto chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. Your gaze shifted to the indicated "friend" – none other than Gojo fucking Satoru, the insufferable junior you couldn't stand.
Memories flooded back of his arrogance and the way he casually toyed with others' feelings. You remembered the girl- who was your friend at the time he left misled, leaving her heartbroken in his wake.
With a scoff and a roll of your eyes, you delivered your response. "Tell your friend to fuck off. I'm taken," you lied smoothly, leaving Suguru standing there confused.
The sight of Gojo and his entourage only added to your disdain for the newly minted seniors.
They exuded an air of entitlement that grated on your nerves, especially when it came to someone like Gojo, with his notorious reputation for playing with hearts.
Trying to shake off the irritation, you joined your friends and made your way to the cafeteria, eagerly anticipating the distribution of the exam papers one day.
Zero.
Your eyes widened in disbelief as you stared at the fucking number on your paper. It felt like a punch to the gut. How was this even possible?
You had studied relentlessly, knew the material inside and out. It had to be a mistake, a glitch in the system.
Frustration bubbled within you as you glanced at the campus's score poster, your heart sinking further.
This couldn't be happening. A week had passed since the exams, and now you were faced with the crushing blow of a zero? It defied all logic.
Anger simmered beneath the surface as you vowed to get to the bottom of this apparent injustice. There had to be an explanation, a flaw in the system, anything to justify such a catastrophic outcome.
Your anger fueled your actions as you barged into the headmaster's office, the force of your frustration evident as you slammed your hands down onto his desk.
It was disrespectful and rude even, but at that moment, fairness outweighed propriety.
"Why did I receive a zero?" you asked the Headmaster Gakuganji, your tone sharp with indignation. However, he met your outburst with a calm demeanor, continuing to focus on his paperwork without acknowledging your question.
Your frustration reached its peak as you realized his silent dismissal. With an exasperated exhale, you reluctantly withdrew from the office, giving a firm knock before re-entering.
"Come in," Yaga's casual response contrasted sharply with your boiling emotions as you stepped back inside.
"What can I help you with?" His posture remained composed, arms crossed and legs crossed, exuding an air of authority.
"There's been a mistake on my exam. It's impossible for me to have received a zero. I was well-prepared and confident in my knowledge," you asserted firmly, maintaining unyielding eye contact with the headmaster, determined to convey the seriousness of your situation.
As Headmaster Yaga sighed and began navigating through the computer system, your heart pounded with anticipation. However, his explanation left you reeling in disbelief.
"You didn't write anything on your paper, therefore you received a zero," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone devoid of sympathy.
Your eyes widened in shock, and you leaned in to peer over the screen, hoping for some sort of mistake. "What? That's not possible! I answered every single question. This is wrong!" Your voice rose with frustration, anger boiling within you.
Headmaster Yaga maintained his composure, calmly presenting the facts. "Your name is the only thing written on the exam paper. There are no other papers from you aside from this one. With four teachers meticulously reviewing each exam, it's highly unlikely that your paper was overlooked or misplaced."
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, reality sinking in with a heavy finality. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do," he concluded with a resigned huff.
Your scoff of disbelief echoed through the room as you took a step back, running your hands through your hair in frustration.
Who could have done this? Was it sabotage, a grudge held by a teacher? Or perhaps a simple oversight, a paper slipping through the cracks? The uncertainty gnawed at you, fueling your anger even further.
As the weight of defeat settled over you like a suffocating blanket, you couldn't help but feel a wave of desperation wash over you. "C...can't I just redo it again..." you pleaded, your voice tinged with hopelessness.
But Headmaster Yaga's response dashed any lingering optimism. "Sorry, Miss L/n, but there's no further opportunity for this exam," he clarified, his tone firm yet apologetic.
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as a sense of injustice consumed you. "But... it's not fair. I studied so hard..." Your voice quivered with emotion, the frustration and disappointment almost overwhelming.
With a sigh, Headmaster Yaga offered a glimmer of a solution. "Talk to Mrs. Yumeo, she might be able to assign you a project for completion," he suggested, his words offering a small ray of hope in the darkness of your despair.
It wasn't the ideal outcome – far from it. But it was better than nothing, a chance to salvage something from the wreckage of your failed exam.
With a heavy heart, you nodded in resignation, bowing in apology before exiting the room.
Betrayed and defeated, you trudged away, feeling the weight of the world pressing down upon you.
It seemed as though fate had dealt you a cruel hand, leaving you to navigate the aftermath of your shattered dreams.
You lean against the window, watching the bustling activity of the campus below, lost in your own thoughts. The sight of students milling about, some deep in study while others laughed and enjoyed themselves, was a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.
A sudden touch on your shoulders sends a shiver down your spine, and you startle, turning to find Nanami standing behind you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
"Guess who got a 100?" he exclaimed, sticking out his tongue in triumph. However, his jubilant demeanor quickly faltered as he noticed your somber expression.
Nanami, known to you as your friend's younger brother and a junior at the school, stands before you, his presence a reminder of the connections you have within the campus community.
"What's got you so down?" he inquired, puzzled by your lack of enthusiasm.
"I got zero," you muttered, your voice heavy with frustration. Nanami arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "You didn't study?"
You scoffed bitterly. "I studied more than enough, but something happened to my exam paper, making it appear as if I received a big fucking zero. God I hate this school system," you muttered, leaning heavily against the window and banging your head lightly in frustration.
Nanami's expression shifted to one of concern as he processed your words. "So, you're saying the grade you received doesn't match what you actually wrote on the exam?" he clarified.
You nodded in confirmation, feeling a glimmer of hope that someone understood your predicament.
"Oh shit, you might've been targeted," he muttered, catching your attention with a puzzled expression. What could he mean by that?
"Huh?"
"Oh, no— I mean your exam paper," he clarified quickly before delving into an unsettling revelation. "You know those guys, the ones hanging around building 3? Word is they're cutting deals with rich students to give them better scores in exams."
Your jaw dropped at the implication. They singled out your paper? It felt like a particularly cruel move, even for them. Typically, you'd storm over there and give them a piece of your mind, maybe even involve the authorities, but...
Dealing with that gang was a different story altogether. You weren't naive; you'd heard the whispers about them. Especially about Ryomen Sukuna.
Ever since you were a junior, rumors of freshmen initiation and campus violence swirled. Fear pervaded, and the sense of security dwindled. Yet, the gang remained elusive, operating in the shadows but still picking on the vulnerable.
What nefarious deeds unfolded behind that building? Unfortunately, the CCTV cameras were conveniently absent from that area.
Perhaps the gang held some leverage over the college or law enforcement. Who could say for sure?
You didn't know how bad it was and you weren't planning to get involved but....fuck.
"Seriously, why target me!?" you exclaimed in frustration.
"I don't know, they don't target specific people, just papers," Nanami shrugged. You sighed deeply, clenching your fists.
"I'm going to talk to them," you declared, determination in your voice.
Nanami shot you a look like you were out of your mind. "Sure, if you don't mind dying."
You rolled your eyes. How dangerous could they really be? They were just young troublemakers playing wannabe criminals. Besides, what harm could they possibly do?
"I'll be fine, no need for the theatrics," you waved off his concern as you strode down the hall.
What harm could a few brats do on campus property? As you made your way to building three, you passed a group of students who gave you curious looks, clearly not recognizing you.
"Hey, you," you grabbed a girl's collar from behind, causing her to stop abruptly. "Where can I find Ryomen Sukuna?" you asked casually. The girl's eyes widened slowly before she slapped your hand away.
"Is this bitch insane?" she scoffed. "Looks like she's asking to get herself killed," her friend chimed in, and they both walked away, shooting you disdainful looks.
You grimaced. Annoying, arrogant brats—they had no manners, no respect, despite being younger than you.
You huffed, deciding to let the it slide as you pushed through the crowd.
"Hey, do you know where Ryomen Sukuna is?" you asked another student. They shot you a confused and slightly scared look before hurrying away. This scenario repeated itself four more times. It seemed like the students here were reluctant to discuss Ryomen Sukuna.
Until, finally, one of them gave you the answer you were seeking. "He's outside, right behind this building," the guy said, his eyes distant and cold as he scrutinized you from head to toe.
Strange. This guy gave you the creeps.
"Uh, okay...thanks?" you replied uncertainly as you made your way outside the building.
There was something unsettling about this place. The pervasive rudeness and the cold, distant gazes of the students created a heavy atmosphere of despair.
As you turned the corner, you were greeted by a crowd of students. Old hip hop music blared from speakers, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and roaring motorbikes.
The air was thick with the smell of cigarettes and other substances, overwhelming your senses as you took a hesitant step forward.
Some people sat around a broken wooden table, engrossed in card games, while others engaged in conversations or rolled up weed.
God, what the fuck was this place?
As you made your way through, everyone seemed to halt in what they were doing, their eyes fixated on you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, under the intense scrutiny of their gazes.
This environment felt...unsafe.
You knew you had found the person you were seeking when your eyes locked with a certain pink-haired man seated in the center of a worn-out couch, surrounded by a haze of smoke—whether from weed or something else, you're not sure.
His arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, legs spread wide, and his tattooed face and caught your attention immediately. He wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated the contours of his abs, paired with sleek black jeans and matching Nike sneakers.
Other individuals lingered around him, adding to the tension in the air.
"Um..." You cleared your throat, noticing the sudden silence as the music ceased.
"Oh don't mind me... everyone..." you started, attempting to break the heavy atmosphere with a nervous chuckle.
However, as you saw no one moving and their stares only intensifying, you decided it was best to address the situation directly.
"You must be Ryomen, right?" you began tentatively, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression remained impassive.
You decided to press on. "There seems to have been a misunderstanding... about my exam paper," you continued, your words stumbling over each other in your haste. "I'm not here to demand its return, though that would be appreciated. I just really needed to pass this grade, and I've put in so much effort—"
Before you could finish your plea, you noticed Sukuna nodding to someone, and suddenly, you felt a sharp kick to your legs, causing you to stumble and fall backward, landing hard on the ground.
Your eyes widened in shock as you glanced up at the man before you. His long hair fell over a stitched gash on his forehead, lending him a menacing aura.
"Sukuna, you wouldn't mind if we took her, would you?" The man's grin was chillingly sadistic.
Sukuna's silence spoke volumes, conveying his answer. Without a word, the man yanked your arm, pulling you to your feet. Shock paralyzed you; you couldn't even muster a response.
Never in your life had you been treated like this, so it came to you as an obvious shock when it did happen.
The man leaned close, his words a venomous whisper in your ear. Your eyes flashed with anger, and you scowled in utter disgust.
How. Fucking. Disgusting.
With gritted teeth, you kicked at his feet, earning a pained groan from him and a muttered "bitch."
Seizing the moment, you bolted, sprinting as fast as your legs could carry you.
The onlookers rose, poised to give chase, but a sharp whistle from Sukuna halted them in their tracks.
You didn't dare look back as you ran, your heart pounding in your chest. Holy shit, what just happened?
You ran across the campus, finally arriving back at your original building. You were so confused and lost in thought.
That's not just wrong—it's illegal! All of it! Without wasting another moment, you hurried to the teacher councils, knocking urgently before entering. All heads turned toward you, surprise evident in their eyes until one approached.
"Hello, are you looking for someone?" she inquired.
"No, I—" You struggled to catch your breath. "There's... shit- i mean there is illegal activities happening behind building three!" Your eyes darted, searching their faces for a sign of concern.
They exchanged glances, a ripple of unease passing among them.
"Oh," one of the professors said, her smile unchanging. "We'll look into it."
Something was terribly amiss. Why weren't they more alarmed? They seemed unfazed, almost as if they already knew.
"They... they switched my papers!" You blurted out, panic rising in your eyes.
The professor just smiled, patiently waiting for you to finish. You scoffed in disbelief, scanning the room. This couldn't be happening.
Who are those people?
You stormed out of the room, frustration boiling over. Even a visit to the headmaster yielded the same unsettling response. Desperate, you called the police, only to hear the same refrain: "We'll look into it."
When you confided in Hana, even she seemed shocked. You knew you weren't imagining things. You needed more evidence against this group. The audacity of that man's words echoed in your mind, making your stomach churn.
"I'll fuck you so good, you'll be a good whore, won't you?"
They couldn't get away with this. Something was seriously wrong, but sadly, it didn't surprise you.
With the rampant gang violence and illegal activities plaguing the city, authorities rarely took decisive action.
Deciding to put the ordeal behind you, you tried to sleep it off, hoping to erase the memory and ease your anxiety. But oh how wrong you were.
Just as the next day arrived, you were targeted again.
Walking down the hall in your denim skirt and white shirt, a hand suddenly draped over your shoulder, jolting you back into a state of alertness.
You flinched at the touch, turning to see the same man from yesterday. Your heart nearly stopped. Then another arm swung over your other shoulder, belonging to a tall guy with thick brown hair and cold eyes.
"You're coming with us," the man with the stitched forehead whispered, his voice low so only you could hear.
"Oh, really?" You retorted with biting sarcasm, trying to wriggle free, but their grips only tightened. Concerned students passing by in the hall shot you worried glances, recognizing these annoying little brats.
You attempted to stomp on the man's foot again, but he anticipated your move, dodging out of the way.
"You sneaky little bitch," he chuckled.
They whisked you away from the building, dragging you back to where they last lurked. Your heart raced, pounding against your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins.
Anger boiled within you, and you hurled threats at the two, demanding they release their grip.
"I'm older than you brats, let go!" you hissed, your voice laced with indignation.
Ignoring your protests, they continued their relentless pull until you finally reached your destination. Two other boys came into view, their demeanor subdued and fragile. One with bangs concealing an eye, the other worn out and weary.
Forced onto your knees beside them, the ground scraped against your knee, eliciting a hiss of discomfort. Your gaze met that of a certain pink-haired boy for a fleeting moment before he diverted his attention elsewhere.
A crowd seemed to gather around the three of you
"Hey, Junpei, you hungry?" a guy squatted down, seizing Junpei by the collar. "Dig in! I've got a treat for you." With a sinister chuckle, he presented a cup filled with tiny cockroaches.
Your stomach churned at the grotesque sight. Could he actually be considering eating them? Yet, as you glimpsed the exhaustion etched on his face, the dimness in his eyes, you realized that anything was possible.
Junpei reached for the cup, his trembling lip betraying his inner turmoil. But before you could offer help or focus on him further, a blonde woman at your side yanked harshly on your hair.
"Eyes on me, bitch," she sneered, her grip unforgiving.
"Fuck you," you spat back with a scowl, defiance burning in your eyes. But before you could react further, her hand connected with your cheek in a stinging slap.
"Watch it," she warned, still gripping your hair tightly as she rose to her feet. The situation infuriated you, but you felt utterly powerless amidst the crowd's twisted enjoyment.
Just a nineteen-year-old girl, a year overdue in graduation—what could you possibly do in such a harrowing situation? Anger and frustration welled up inside you, gnawing at your sense of self-worth.
You clenched your jaw, biting down on your lower lip in a futile attempt to contain your rage and despair.
The day dragged on, each moment a battle of resistance against relentless torment. Forced to endure physical and psychological abuse, you fought back as best you could, but it seemed futile against the overwhelming odds.
Standing on one leg for twenty agonizing minutes, any falter met with a vicious blow to your stomach, leaving you doubled over in pain. The cycle repeated itself mercilessly, day after day, leaving you feeling trapped and helpless.
Desperate for help, you reached out to the school authorities, the police, anyone who might offer assistance. Yet, each attempt yielded the same frustrating response, leaving you feeling abandoned and alone.
Even your plea for aid on social media fell on deaf ears, the hashtags failing to garner any meaningful attention.
Scouring through articles about gang activity in the city only served to deepen your sense of hopelessness. With little information available, it seemed as though you were at the mercy of your tormentors, trapped in a nightmare with no apparent escape.
You sighed heavily, the pain in your ribs a constant reminder of the brutality you endured, especially from that insufferable blonde bitch.
The unfairness of it all gnawed at you—knowing you could take her on one-on-one, but their gang tactics made it impossible to fight back without facing overwhelming retaliation.
Hana's gentle voice broke through your thoughts, her concern evident. She understood your ordeal, as did everyone else, yet the fear of repercussions kept them from intervening.
It was a lonely battle, one you regretted involving yourself in.
"Stop, Hana," you replied wearily, your resolve unyielding despite the pain. "I won't change or drop out...not when I'm so close to graduating."
"I know, I know," Hana conceded softly, her worry palpable. "But you're hurting, Y/n. You don't even smile anymore."
Her observation struck a chord within you. The constant harassment during breaks had taken a toll on your mental well-being. It drained you, leaving you depleted and despondent.
A knock on the door interrupted the somber atmosphere, and both of you turned towards the sound. Hana moved to answer, revealing a tall, shy-looking guy with tousled brown locks.
"Hey, Kaito!" Hana greeted cheerfully, a grin lighting up her face. "We're heading to the library to study. You still coming?" he inquired.
"Yeah, sure, just give me a second. You guys can go ahead," Hana replied before closing the door.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Hana apologized, her expression contrite. "I have a test tomorrow that I need to study for... Do you need anything? I'll buy you something when I come back." Her offer was accompanied by an apologetic smile, tinged with genuine concern.
"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead," you assured Hana, mustering a smile despite your exhaustion. You wanted to be genuine, but weariness weighed heavily upon you.
Hana nodded, and within minutes, she was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit dorm room.
An exhausted sigh escaped your lips as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you. Retrieving your phone with a cracked screen—courtesy of the blonde bitch whore's kick—you couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at the memory.
Just as you were lost in your thoughts, your phone illuminated, revealing an incoming call from a familiar caller.
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you answered, feigning cluelessness.
"Who is this?" you teased, though the excitement in his voice was unmistakable.
"Goku!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, followed by a burst of giggles that warmed your heart. You chuckled softly, appreciating his infectious joy as you leaned back in your chair, gazing out the window.
Megumi had been immersed in that anime for weeks now, his enthusiasm undiminished since the last time you spoke.
"Gumi, how are you?" you asked, genuine concern lacing your tone.
"I'm fwine, just hungwy, that's all," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of a pout. You could practically visualize his expression on the other end of the line, and a sigh escaped your lips as you anticipated the inevitable.
As Megumi's words sank in, your heart sank with them. This wasn't the first time Toji had pulled done this. "Gumi, where's your dad?" you inquired, already dreading the answer.
"Gwone! Two days now..." His voice was tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation, and the sounds of him rummaging in the background only added to your concern.
Closing your eyes briefly, you fought back a surge of frustration. Toji's awful habit of leaving Megumi home alone was reckless and irresponsible, something you had scolded him about numerous times.
Despite your admonitions and pleas to call you if he needed to leave, Toji always brushed it off, telling you that he didn't want Megumi to be a nuisance to you and that you should focus on your studies instead.
But you understood Toji's perspective, too. His involvement in gang violence, driven by the need to protect his family and provide for his son after Megumi's mother's death, was a harsh reality you couldn't ignore.
It tore at your heart, knowing the risks Toji faced daily.
"Stay there, I'm coming, okay?" you reassured Megumi, the warmth of his excited hum on the other end of the line offering some solace.
With a determined resolve, you ended the call and quickly changed into comfortable attire, ready to face whatever awaited you.
A gray sweatpants and oversized t-shirt combo was your go-to "homeless" outfit, practical yet inconspicuous. You added a touch of makeup and donned a cap before heading out, ensuring your phone and keys were safely tucked away.
Before leaving, you sent a quick text to Hana, informing her that you would be gone for the night, just to ease her worry—she always was.
With that done, you locked the dorm door behind you and set off to retrieve Megumi.
The decision to grab some snacks before heading to Toji's place seemed like a practical one. Who knew how long you'd be staying there? Actually- you had a feeling you'd be staying there for a long time...
As you walked down the dimly lit streets, the setting sun cast long shadows, signaling the impending darkness that would soon blanket the city.
Your heart raced with each step, the fear of the night creeping in. Gang activities thrived after dark, and being out alone made you a vulnerable target.
Yet, your determination to retrieve Megumi overshadowed your apprehension.
As the streets grew quieter and shadows lengthened, a sense of unease settled over you.
The hairs on the back of your neck prickled when you noticed a group of boys eyeing you intently. Panic surged within you as you realized they started following you.
Shit, shit, shit. Were you going to end up like the woman from a week ago?
Your heart hammered against your ribcage, the sound deafening in your ears. With a sudden burst of adrenaline-fueled courage, you made a split-second decision to run.
Fuck it, we ball! The thought screamed in your mind as you broke into a sprint, your feet pounding against the pavement. Panic seized you as you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, the group giving chase.
A scream for help tore from your throat, echoing through the empty streets of the city.
You didn't want to die like this—not here, not now. Regrets flooded your mind as you cursed yourself for not focusing on your studies and graduating like a good student last year. Instead, you found yourself trapped in this terrifying ordeal.
As you kept running as fast as your legs could take you- you spotted another group of men.
With desperation driving you forward, you prayed for their assistance. But as you reached them and came to face with Ryomen Sukuna, you wished you hadn't.
His towering presence and intense gaze halted you in your tracks, his back muscles rippling beneath his shirt.
As he turned around, you locked eyes with him for a fleeting moment, feeling a shiver run down your spine.
There was something primal and dangerous about him, something you couldn't quite place. His gaze held an intensity unlike anything you had ever experienced.
The men behind you, realizing Sukuna's identity, slowed their pace and muttered apologies, eager to retreat. Sukuna's silent dismissal seemed to command their compliance, and they slunk away, leaving you alone with him.
But Sukuna's gang members weren't so forgiving. They harassed the retreating men, taunting and insulting them until they disappeared into the darkness.
Turning his attention back to you, Sukuna's piercing gaze bore into you, sending a wave of unease coursing through your veins. He puffed out smoke, a cigarette in between his fingers.
Maybe this was your chance to apologize, to make amends and avoid further trouble.
"Hey, um, I... well, first of all, sorry. I didn't mean any of it—" you began tentatively, but the disdain in Sukuna's eyes silenced you mid-sentence. His expression conveyed utter disinterest and contempt, making it clear that your presence was unwelcome.
You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze heavy upon you, and the words died in your throat. Perhaps apologizing was futile in the face of Sukuna's obvious disdain.
Your heart pounded erratically in your chest as Sukuna's hand gripped the back of your hair, his touch sending a jolt of fear coursing through you.
Confusion and terror clouded your mind as you looked up at him, searching for any sign of mercy in his intense gaze.
But mercy was the last thing on Sukuna's mind as he began to tug at your hair, forcing your head back.
Panic surged through you, and you instinctively reached up to pry his hand away, but his grip was like a vice, unyielding and relentless.
A chorus of laughter erupted from the onlookers, their amusement fueling Sukuna's sadistic intentions. Your pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears as you felt the burning tip of the cigarette inching closer to your neck.
"W-wait, no, please!" you stuttered, desperation lacing your voice as you struggled against his hold. But it was futile.
Your shrieks filled the air as the searing pain of the cigarette meeting your skin sent waves of agony coursing through you.
Your eyes squeezed shut in a futile attempt to block out the pain, tears welling up despite your efforts to hold them back. Through the haze of pain and fear, you met Sukuna's gaze, finding nothing but satisfaction and dominance reflected in his eyes.
"L-let go, you asshole!" you groaned, your voice strained with agony and defiance as he finally withdrew the cigarette, leaving behind a searing mark on your neck.
Sukuna's faint-barely visible smirk only grew, his eyes lingering on the spot he had branded you with a mixture of admiration and possessiveness.
You didn't understand what was going on and why he was doing it- but it fucking hurt.
Sukuna's grip on your hair loosened, prompting an immediate reaction from you as you lashed out, delivering a sharp slap across his face. Exhaustion and frustration surged within you, an overwhelming torrent of emotions.
A heavy silence fell, drowning out the echoes of laughter that had preceded it. Regret flooded over you in a relentless wave as you realized the gravity of your actions. You shouldn't have lashed out. Sukuna remained unmoved by the slap, but his scowl spoke volumes.
In swift obedience to Sukuna's unspoken command, his cohorts seized you, their rough hands gripping your arms as they forced you to the ground. A sharp kick to your side preceded the binding of your hands, tethering you to a nearby pole with no chance of escape.
Sukuna dragged a chair forward, its legs creaking against the ground until finally falling silent.
With a subtle gesture, he signaled to his cohorts, who promptly ushered forward two Doberman dogs, a chain hanging around their collar, their presence previously unnoticed in the eerie quietness of the street.
Your heart raced in your chest, each beat a thunderous reminder of your escalating fear. Were they going to unleash the dogs on you?
Panic surged through you; your childhood trauma of being chased and bitten by a dog resurfaced, intensifying your dread to an unbearable level.
Sukuna reclined in his chair, the flicker of his lighter illuminating the dark amusement in his eyes as he motioned for his men to proceed.
"Attack," they commanded.
Instantly, the dogs erupted into a frenzy, straining against their leashes with bared teeth and ferocious barks. The men struggled to restrain them, laughter mingling with the chaos as they taunted and teased the agitated animals.
Each bark felt like a stab of terror, every droplet of saliva a reminder of impending danger.
As the tension mounted, you found yourself succumbing to overwhelming fear, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably.
The absurdity of the situation hit you like a wave; here you were, facing a tormentor younger than yourself, yet his power over you felt absolute, rendering you helpless against the onslaught.
Clutching the pole for dear life, you shut your eyes tightly, hoping to block out the nightmare unfolding before you. Sukuna's impassive gaze bore into you, devoid of empathy or remorse, as if your suffering were nothing more than entertainment for his amusement.
The torment stretched on, each passing moment feeling like an eternity of agony and exhaustion. Whenever you dared to drift into the refuge of sleep, a cruel kick from one of Sukuna's lackeys would jolt you back to grim reality, ensuring that your torment remained unending.
However, despite the torment, you refused to succumb to Sukuna's twisted satisfaction. With gritted teeth and a fiery glare, you met his gaze head-on, determined not to grant him the pleasure of witnessing your vulnerability-or whatever sick pleasure he got from it.
Even as the clamor of the dogs subsided and your resolve wavered, you clung to the pole with trembling hands, refusing to surrender to the overwhelming despair that threatened to consume you.
Sukuna, sensing the situation, experienced an unexpected crack in his stoic self.
A scoff escaped him, morphing into an airly chuckle that echoed through the tense silence of the area.
The men exchanged surprised glances, their disbelief evident as they witnessed Sukuna's unexpected reaction. It was a rare sight to see him amused, let alone laughing. His sudden shift in demeanor left them uncertain, unsure of how to proceed.
However, Sukuna's amusement was short-lived. Abruptly, his smirk faded, replaced by a mocking expression as he considered the fate of his captive.
"Should... we leave her here?" one of the men hesitantly inquired, turning to Sukuna for guidance.
Without a word, Sukuna gathered his belongings, his silence conveying more than any response could.
"Stupid girl. What tangled mess have you stumbled into?" One of the men jeered as they gathered their dogs and departed, leaving you bound to the pole.
"Hey!" You yelled, struggling against the knots binding your wrists, panic rising within you. Were they really going to abandon you in the dead of night? And what about Megumi?
Fuck, you completely forgot about him.
It took a grueling twenty minutes to free yourself, your hands tenderly touching the bruised lines encircling your wrists. Your fingers brushed against your tear-streaked face, the mascara ruined and running.
You must have looked awful.
Clutching yourself, you began to move slowly, the closed store mocking your futile hope. Utterly humiliated and alone, this was not how you planned your night to unfold.
A sigh escaped your lips as you assessed the situation. Maybe it would have been better to accept the zero. And now you still had to face your professor about the project.
Each day grew more excruciating to endure, a relentless ache gnawing at your spirit.
As night draped its shadows, you finally completed the arduous journey to Toji's house nestled in a quiet neighborhood, grateful for the solitude it offered.
Shielded from prying eyes, you could hide the mess you'd become.
On the porch, you retrieved the hidden keys behind a plant, a familiar routine that led you inside.
With utmost care, you turned the lock, easing the door open, hoping not to wake up Megumi's slumber.
Stepping inside, you closed the door softly, slipping off your shoes with deliberate gentleness.
Suddenly, a small figure emerged, clutching a massive teddy bear by his side. Megumi rubbed his eyes, his gaze fixing upon you.
"Y/n?" he mumbled, his voice tinged with sleepiness and a hint of concern. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, a flood of emotions washing over you.
Though you yearned to head to the solitude of the bathroom and cry for hours, the presence of Megumi soothed your frayed nerves.
Crouching down to his level, you smiled softly. "Hey, sweetheart. Why aren't you asleep?" you asked, brushing his cheek tenderly.
"I was waiting fwor you..." he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You melted into his warmth, returning the embrace with equal affection, peppering his cheek with gentle kisses.
In that moment, amidst the shadows and the silence, you found solace.
You were home. And with Megumi by your side, everything felt a little less daunting.
Hopefully, everything would turn back to normal in due time.
You were way better off without him in your life.