A push of paranoia

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(Y/n) barely registered the sound of the door clicking shut behind Gakuganji. The weight of his words pressed down on her, suffocating.

'Director Anthony? Why would he order the cursed object?'

'And Gojo—'

'He was there when they were killed. Why didn’t he investigate?'

All the accusations, all the implications—it was too much. Her head pounded, a sharp, relentless pain spreading behind her eyes.

"Of course Gojo would lead you on. You’re his little project. A toy he’s shaping. Why else would he push you so hard? All the training, all the manipulation—"

The voice in her head wasn’t hers.

She stiffened, a cold dread creeping down her spine.

Lucas.

The curse user she had drained. His voice slithered into her thoughts, pressing down like a heavy weight on her chest.

Her breath grew shallow, uneven.

She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground beneath her cracking apart.

Her fingers curled into fists as nausea twisted her stomach.

She needed to move, to react—to do something—but her body felt paralyzed.

And then the thoughts started creeping in.

'Gojo knows nothing about your parents' death.'
'He led you on.'
'He pushed you, tested your limits, watched you like an experiment—'

A flash of memory jolted through her mind.

Gojo’s grin when he saw what she could do. The way his eyes had glowed with curiosity, with fascination.

Had she ever really been anything more than an asset to him? Something to be studied? Controlled?

A sharp throb stabbed behind her eyes.

Laughter echoed.

They were laughing at her.

"(Y/n)."

Ieiri.

(Y/n) barely registered her voice.

Ieiri had been trying to call Gojo, but now she had put her phone aside, stepping closer, concern etched into her face.

“(Y/n), are you okay? What did Gakuganji want?”

(Y/n) tried to answer. She should answer. But her mind was spiraling, drowning under the weight of paranoia and foreign voices.

She couldn’t stay here.

Not in this room. Not with Ieiri’s gaze pinning her in place. Not with so much noise—

Without another word, she turned and stormed out.

"(Y/n)!" Ieiri called after her.

She didn’t stop.

Didn’t look back.

She needed to get out.

To breathe. To think.

She ran as fast as she could toward the nearest exit from the school grounds—the same ruined gate where she had fought the day before. Blood still stained the ground. Her blood.

"You’re alive because of me." Lucas’s voice echoed in her mind.

“Shut up.” She gritted her teeth. She needed to get rid of him.

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