"Everything felt different since the day you left me."
Wherein you finally return to Tokyo after five years and unfortunately, you have to deal with your rich, dumb, spoiled rotten, stupidly handsome ex-boyfriend.
Disclaimer: I do not own any JJK c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Your POV
Ugh, Tokyo
You have been waiting outside the airport for ages now, scrolling through a dating app to find a date while staying in Tokyo. You've got zero interest in wasting your precious time here on old acquaintances, especially not that childish man.
You let out a deep sigh. You've been standing for too long outside, you're starting to wonder if your trip all the way to Tokyo was even worth it.
Seeing him again? Definitely not on your agenda.
You want to crawl back to your own bed in your own luxurious suite way back in Milan. Work. Shopping. Party. Sleep. Repeat.
After retiring from being a sorcerer and breaking up with your ex-boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, you retreated back to Milan and started your own brand. After five years, your name was now all over the billboards, and you're the go-to for designer fashion, dressing up famous artists locally and internationally. You've built an empire while Satoru's probably still stuck in his ego.
You didn't know what really pushed you here. Maybe it was the fact that Masamichi Yaga was the one who raised you since you were a child. Or you just wanted to take a break from work and annoy your ex-boyfriend. Maybe tease him for a bit to spice things up.
You were just swiping along the list of rich men appearing on your screen, none of them fitting your taste. It's like searching for a needle in a haystack of mediocrity. You hadn't had the slightest thrill in your life during the years you were building your brand. Sure, you had flings here and there, but none of them really suited your interests. At the back of your mind, you were still comparing them to how Satoru treated you when you were still together.
You let out a deep sigh as you exited the app and took a picture of yourself instead. Then, you posted it on your social media account to update your followers that you're staying in Tokyo for a vacation.
The response to your social media post was instantaneous. Your followers flooded the comments with heart emojis, admiration, and requests to meet up. It seemed like your followers were excited about your impromptu vacation.
Scrolling through your own posts, you noticed your cab nearing your position. You let out a deep sigh before raising your hand to gain his attention.
The driver then brought your luggage to the trunk while you waited for him in the passenger seat. You were fixing your makeup so you would look presentable. You'd never know when you would bump into that dumbass.
The ride back was utterly quiet. Maybe because the driver was intimidated by your presence. He knew who you were. He was rather a fan of your works, but he doesn't have the money to buy a piece of the clothing that you made. He could see the news all over the magazines and television about your success and how you smiled during your interview. But now, you looked like a grumpy old woman.
You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath before exhaling. You could still remember how you were in the middle of your appointment with a celebrity, and your phone suddenly rang with Yaga's name written on the screen. He wanted you to go back to Jujutsu High School, but you refused his offer at first. You guessed your skills were still in demand, and despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself being drawn back into the world you had left behind.
For a few days, he kept calling with the same number over and over again until you said yes. But here's the catch; he wouldn't tell you the details of the mission unless you came down all the way from Milan to Tokyo to discuss this 'important' mission that he's got for you. Of course, as his acting daughter, you granted his wish. He paid for every single thing on your trip, which is a good deal for you. But knowing him, you knew he convinced Satoru to pay for everything.
So here you are, fidgeting with your fingers as the driver drove you to the place where you're supposed to meet Principal Yaga. You admit you're quite nervous. You're unsure of what your body and mind would do if you see his stupidly handsome face once you're back. But you swore you'd let him see that you're happy without him.
You leaned on your car seat to look outside as you took in another deep breath. The weather was utterly nice today. Perfect for a cup of coffee to calm your nerves before meeting Principal Yaga.
You were so used in the fast transportation in Milan, you almost forgot how transportation sucks in Tokyo especially during holiday seasons. You have been a sitting duck in the middle of a traffic jam and you were nowhere near your destination. You're starving and your phone were almost dead.
The car came to a sudden stop, and the driver turned to you with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, miss. It seems we're stuck in a particularly bad jam."
Your choice is either to sleep or listen to the boring ass radio that the driver was listening to. It was a radio station where they give love advices for couples having trouble with their relationship. The radio host chirped enthusiastically about rekindling lost connections, and you rolled your eyes, memories of Satoru flooding back.
You scoffed, reminiscing about the day Satoru and you called it quits. His ridiculous pride and egotistical bullshit took center stage. Both of you are Special Grades, yet he insisted on treating you like some incapable child in need of protection. That shit irked you to the core.
And then there was the cheating. Caught him red-handed. No need to delve into the details of how you found out; let's just say your instincts and cunning are second to none. His loss, not mine. Shaking your head, you relished the fact that you walked away from his drama and arrogance.
After that, he wouldn't quit sliding into all your social media accounts, but you made damn sure to block him everywhere. You tossed him one final message that you're jetting out of the country. Saw his pathetic plea, begging you to stick around, but you switched your number and ghosted for a solid five years. Worked your ass off trying to erase him from your mind, but guess what? Back in the same damn country where it all went down. All those years of effort to forget him? Seems like they went down the drain. The past might be buried, but you bet your ass you're keeping it that way.
After what seemed like eternity, the car slowed to a stop, a shiver ran down your spine, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.
The cab pulled up to the designated location, and you paid the driver with a fat amount of yen. As he handed you your luggage, he couldn't help but stammer out a few words of admiration for your work. You acknowledged his compliment with a polite smile, the grumpy exterior momentarily softened.
As you stood there, you can feel the eyes on you– some curious, some judgmental, and some downright envious. You thrive on it.
Now, all nervous and sweating, you wanted send your ass back to Milan. You thumped your foot on the ground, contemplating whether you should go or ditch him. It's not too late to turn back.