Evil spirits: Cursed Affection

Any regrets?

The phone vibrated on the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the caller ID. It was the only person she would take a call from right now. She grabbed the phone and left the room.

To shake off some tension, she rolled her neck left and right, loosening her facial muscles. Only then did she pick up.

"Hey, Satoru. You're calling early today-did you miss me?"

"When do I not miss you, (Y/n)?" His voice was more soothing than anything else. "Am I interrupting something?"

She thought she had masked her discomfort well enough. What had tipped him off?

"Why do you ask?" she countered, keeping her voice light as she leaned against the wall.

Gojo hummed. "I don't know, you just sound... a little off. Your usual charming self, but with a hint of 'I just committed a crime' in your tone."

(Y/n) let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, please. You're the one always getting into trouble."

"You wound me, sweetheart," he sighed dramatically. "But actually, I have some real business tonight. Might get a little messy."

Her fingers tapped absently against her thigh. "Messy how?"

"Nothing to worry about. Just some work in Shibuya." His voice was casual, but something about the way he said it made her pause. She didn't press further.

"Hmm. Well, you better not be getting yourself in trouble," she teased.

"Trouble? Me?" He gasped in mock offense. "I was about to ask if you wanted to go trick-or-treating with me, but now I'm reconsidering."

(Y/n) smiled, playing along. "You'd probably just steal all the candy from kids."

"Obviously. And then I'd give you the best pieces, because I'm a gentleman."

She laughed softly. "How considerate of you."

He sighed. "Wish I could actually see you, though. These phone calls aren't enough."

Her grip on the phone tightened. "...I know."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, warm yet fragile.

"Don't disappear on me, alright?" His voice was quieter now, more serious.

She exhaled, shifting against the wall. "I won't."

They exchanged a few more words-lighthearted again-before she finally hung up.

The second the call ended, her smile faded. She rolled her shoulders back, exhaling slowly before pushing open the door.

Anthony was still there, slumped against the chair, his breathing ragged.

"Where were we?" she murmured, stepping closer.

His body tensed. "P-please, no more."

(Y/n) tilted her head.

She stepped forward, slow and deliberate, letting the sound of her footsteps echo in the dimly lit room. Anthony flinched when she reached for him, but she only rested a hand on his shoulder-her grip light, almost comforting.

"Come on, Anthony," she said softly. "You're a smart man. You know this won't stop until I get what I want."

His breath was shallow, his fingers twitching where they were tied to the chair. Sweat beaded along his temple, his entire body trembling. She had seen that look before-the fragile line between pain and complete mental collapse.