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It has been a few days since Gojo came to Shoko's house, and ever since then, you've found it difficult every day as you're much less productive.
Every night, you spend time bawling your eyes out, feeling like you deserved all the pain you said to Gojo in the last few days.
Of course, you didn't mean any of it. If Naoya hadn't forced you into this, you would've just rushed back to meet Gojo and tell him how sorry you were and that you didn't mean any of it.
You hate yourself so much because you can't do anything in this situation. You hate how the Zenin family holds a lot of power in the modeling industry and luxury brands. It's so unfair. And you hate how much Naoya is doing to you. You despise that man a lot.
"Picking you up in an hour. Make sure to wear something pretty this time and don't overdo anything on your beautiful face. If you say no, then you will know what's gonna happen." You read the message sent by Naoya as you clenched your phone tightly.
"Fucking dickhead," you breathed out.
You got up and decided to shower, as your eyes had been swollen a lot from the amount you've been crying.
As soon as the morning after Gojo went to Shoko's house, you went straight back to your house, and Gojo kept his promise. He never visited nor contacted you anymore.
You sighed as you stripped off all your clothes and warmed your body inside the warm bathtub as you leaned back.
Once out of the shower, you decided to wear a luxurious black mid-length dress and topped it with gold jewelry.
You put on some light makeup and a touch of lipstick on your lips.
You scrutinized your reflection, frustration etched on your face as you clenched your hand. The bitter irony stung – dressing up not for Satoru, the man you loved, but for a man you despised.
Descending the stairs, the sound of a doorbell resonated. Opening it, you were met with Naoya, a familiar smirk playing on his lips, one hand casually tucked into his pocket.
"Gorgeous as always," he whistled, attempting to touch your face, only to have his hand sharply slapped away. "Don't touch me," you glared, a mixture of defiance and distaste in your eyes.
Naoya, unfazed by your rejection, maintained his smirk, a calculated glint in his eyes. "Feisty as ever, Y/n. Still playing hard to get?" he teased, ignoring your evident discomfort.
"Just take me to whatever place it is. I want to go home early," you spat.
"I won't allow you to go home early," he chuckled as he patted your head.
"Fuck off," you glared.
"Okay, I was just joking. Let's get into the car, shall we?" He extended his hand for you to take, but you quickly pushed him away and walked toward his car as Naoya just chuckled deeply, looking at your back.
