𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 | R. SUKUNA

38

• • •

News of the scandal spread like wildfire, with paparazzi capturing moments of you and Sukuna dancing, and even intruding into the hallway to snap shots of Sukuna's hand tracing your neck. It was nothing short of a scandal.

The constant barrage of phone calls the next morning was overwhelming, with your mother bombarding you with 44 text messages and repeated calls.

Headlines painted a picture of a potential new romance, suggesting infidelity on your part with Naoya, your fiancé.

With a weary exhale, you rose from the couch and retreated to the kitchen, seeking solace in a cup of herbal tea to soothe your frazzled nerves. The last thing you wanted was to confront the swirling drama.

Before you could fully collect yourself, Mariko barged in, her heels announcing her arrival with sharp clicks. "You're awake! Have you seen the headlines? They're all—" She began, but you interjected, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"I've seen it all," you replied wearily, pouring hot water into your cup.

"Oh," Mariko relayed, "Your mother has been calling. She wants to talk immediately." You emitted a noncommittal hum in response.

"I'll call her... I just need a moment of peace right now," you informed Mariko, who nodded understandingly before retreating.

Alone in the quiet of the kitchen, you took a few moments to gather your thoughts before deciding to confront the impending conversation with your mother. Dialing her number, she picked up almost immediately.

"Hi, Mom," you began wearily, bracing yourself for what was to come.

"Y/n," her voice was stern, cutting through the line like a blade. "Have you lost your mind? Is this how I raised you...?!" Her words were laden with disappointment and anger.

You closed your eyes, trying to maintain composure despite the rising tension. It was ironic, her mention of upbringing, considering she was never present during your formative years.

As she continued to scold you, she issued a final threat before abruptly ending the call. It seemed Naoya's family had been involved, demanding an explanation.

Your mother, in her typical fashion, had concocted a story, alleging that you were intoxicated and incapable of rational thought.

You couldn't help but scoff at the absurdity of it all, wondering what other falsehoods were being woven behind your back.

As you navigated through the tumult of emotions triggered by your mother's call, a message from Uraume unexpectedly flashed across your screen: "Can we talk?" it read.

It had been a year since Uraume last reached out, making the sudden contact all the more surprising, especially considering you knew exactly what she wanted to discuss.

Dialing their number, you could hear the distant murmur of voices in the background, indicating they were in a crowded place.

"Hey, how are you?" Uraume greeted.

They initiated a small talk with you before broaching the topic that lingered unspoken between you.

"I saw pictures of you and Sukuna..." they trailed off, her voice tentative. "Are you two still talking...?"

You paused before responding, choosing your words carefully. "Well, to be honest, he won't leave me alone," you admitted. "But he still doesn't remember me," you added, the weight of those words hanging heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry," Uraume's voice carried a note of sympathy. "I'm sorry you have to go through this. I know how hard it must be for you," they whispered softly.