Again?

15

Moral of the story:

Not every person you meet is good. You might be nice to them, but there's a rare chance they'll return the favor. The situation I am currently in shows it really well.

"You're. . ." I swallowed the limp in my throat. "here to kill me?"

He huffed. "Miss, what else do you think I am here for?"

My eyes widened at how calm he sounded. He sounded as if he did that for a living. My heart pounded in my chest, every beat echoing my terror. Please, please, please, just take me as a hostage.

"Why-" My voice cracked.

He cut me off with a cold smile. "No more talking."

Before I could react, he pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the hallway, and a searing pain exploded in my thigh. I screamed, collapsing completely onto the floor, clutching at the wound. Blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky.

"I might have missed on purpose the first time., he said calmly, stepping in closer. "I don't do that normally."

I looked up at him, tears blurring my vision. "W-why-"

"Why am I doing this?" he finished my question with a chilling smile. "Gojo Satoru's lover." he added, bending down. ". . . (L/N) (Y/N). Need I say more."

I gasped in shock, my heart pounding even harder than before. "No," I managed to choke out, shaking my head. "You've got the wrong person. I am certainly not his lover."

He straightened up, studying me with cold eyes. "Don't play dumb with me," he said, his voice hardening. "I know who you are. And I know what you mean to him."

"We are JUST acquaintances." I insisted, fear and confusion knotting in my stomach. "I've never been involved with him romantically." Lies.

He scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Getting involved with people like us will just put both parties at risk." He aimed the gun at me once again, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Panic gushed through me as I stared down the barrel of the gun. My mind raced for a way out, but there was no escape from the reality closing in around me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I squeezed them shut, bracing for the unavoidable.

What did I do to deserve this?

"You really should know who's going to pull the trigger," he continued, his tone disturbingly casual. "After all, it's a name you won't soon forget."

I forced my eyes open, meeting his cold, unyielding gaze. "It's Fushiguro," he said, pausing as if to let the weight of the name sink in. "Fushiguro Toji."

The name echoed in my mind, adding to the pain in my thigh where the bullet had hit. I tried to move, but the fear and agony left me paralyzed, my body shaking.

The pain in my leg was too much to bear. I couldn't think straight. Every instinct told me to run, to fight, to do something—but I was frozen, stuck in a nightmare with no way out.

Suddenly, a rush of air and a blur of motion caught my attention. Before I could understand what was happening, the gun in Fushiguro's hand flew away with a loud crack. Blood spattered across my face, and Fushiguro's severed hand landed with a thud beside me.

Fushiguro let out a horrible scream, clutching the mangled stump where his hand used to be. We both turned to see a figure standing at the top of the staircase.

We both looked up in shock to see Satoru standing at the top of the staircase, his blue eyes glinting menacingly from beneath his lifted blindfold. His presence was overwhelming, an aura of raw power radiating from him.