Ex's & Oh's | Gojo Satoru ✓

➸ flashback chapter (part one)

[A/N - please press play on the song above and let it run throughout this chapter!]

[Y/N]'s POV:

Let's just say that I haven't exactly been...honest with all of you regarding who I am and what I do.

But we'll get into that later.

• • Two years ago • •

Tonight is a tragic one.

Anger lights a fire in my heart as I storm out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me, my hands balled tightly into fists at my sides and the colour red encompassing my vision. I hear the sound of glass being smashed against a wall from behind me, and I can only imagine myself as the personification of that wall and the glass a manifestation of his betrayal. I don't think I've ever felt this level of anger and hurt before, and it makes me want to do nothing more than switch off my humanity and lock myself away from this cataclysmic world.

I hate him.

I fucking hate him.

I stumble into the elevator, breathing in and out heavily. I'm drunk, I'm drunk as hell and tears are rapidly streaming down my face in black rivulets. I am hyperventilating, and I can't stop myself from hitting my body against the wall and slumping to the ground. Before the elevator reaches the ground floor, I immediately force my legs to rise, but I feel like a robot. I don't even remember how I managed to get outside, even as I leave the comfort of the indoor heating to the bitterness of the icy wind pricking my bare skin. I stumble as I walk along the pavement, keeping myself warm by hugging myself while trying to catch the attention of a cab whizzing past on the bustling road. I'm too cold to unwind my arms and hail one.

Eventually, a cab stops—and I couldn't even tell you the process of how I got inside it and how I managed  to head to this specific address. I must have mumbled the address to the driver at some point, but my mind is currently a maelstrom of emotions and I can't bring myself to think straight; hurt winding its way through my gut. He doesn't even question my tear-stained face as he drives along the road teeming with cars and buses and vans coming from every direction, he just turns on the radio, it's probably his way of dealing with an annoying drunk girl.

Tokyo at night feels like you're in a completely different dimension. It's a bustling, lively place; sidewalks are busy with large throngs of people heading for dinner and drinks after a long day at work, while a steady stream of people pour in and out of the subway stations. Lampposts alight the streets, and the smell of car exhaust fumes fills my nostrils the very moment I roll down the cab window for some much-needed fresh air. I'm trying my hardest to control my erratic breathing, and so I close my eyes momentarily. It's been a long day.