𝗖𝗬𝗖𝗟𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗬
ғᴛ. sᴀɴᴏ ᴍᴀɴᴊɪʀᴏ
⌈Tokyo Revengers⌋
ᯓ꒰ •̫͡-•̫͡꒱ᯓ
❘❘❘❘❘❘ ❛ Returning back to the past, you ended up being entangled with your one and only lover in the past whom you've sworn to yourself was someone you hate. Turn...
━─── The restaurant pulsed with quiet life, soft conversations weaving together into a constant murmur, the occasional clatter of dishes punctuating the air. The scent of sizzling meat and freshly brewed coffee clung to the space, mingling with the faint perfume of vanilla from the candle flickering on your table. Outside, the afternoon sun bled gold over the city, its light pressing against the glass beside you, warming your skin through the cool barrier.
Your fingers ghosted over the five sheets of paper spread before you, the cheap print slightly smudged from the sweat of your palm. Each one was a thread, a carefully pulled stitch unraveling the tapestry of Hanagaki Takemichi's life, his movements, his allies, his goddamn tendency to stumble into chaos.
You barely recognized yourself in those pages. The past you and the future you were two different creatures entirely, like looking at the charred remains of a once-glorious empire, trying to imagine its former splendor. The future you was broken. A hollowed-out husk, suicidal and utterly fucked six ways to hell.
And all roads of destruction led back to one name.
Tetta Kisaki.
That conniving, power-hungry bastard with a god complex so inflated it could probably replace the goddamn sun. He had slithered into your life, sunk his venom in deep, and left you to rot in the aftermath. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't have ended up in the dirt. You could've been a king, a prodigy, a billionaire, someone untouchable.
But no. That fucker had to show up and ruin everything. Your life, your friends, your love life, everything!
Your fingers tightened around the papers, knuckles whitening. "I better investigate that bastard too," you muttered under your breath, voice taut with barely restrained fury.
"You investigating someone?"
The voice cut through the air, and holy fucking shit—
Your soul damn near left your body.
You jerked so hard the table rattled, your pulse slamming against your ribs. Your head snapprd up, wide eyes locking onto a pair of familiar lavender irises.
"Taka-chii?!"
Your breath hitched, the weight of the moment crashing down on you all at once. Of all the goddamn people to run into first, it had to be Mitsuya Takashi. The second division captain of Toman. The same Mitsuya who, years from now, would do everything in his powerto protect you. The one who, despite it all, you fucking abandoned.
