𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 : a Tokyo Revengers Fanfiction.

━━━━ Seven.

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❝The Morning After❞
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That morning, when you woke up to the sound of your phone with an incoming call, you didn't know where to put your head in; memories of the night before rushing in quick waves that drawned you in all kinds of embarrassment... but surprisingly, you didn't regret it. Your night could be summarized in one short sentence: no more alcohol.

At least, that's what everyone says after a night out.

—Who is it? —You hawked to clear your morning voice, the phone next to your ear.

—Is this (Y/N) (L/N)? —getting rid of the warm covers that hugged your body, you sat on the bed; the seriousness of the voice at the other side of the line finishing the job of waking you up.

—Yes, who is it? —You asked again; this time, your tone, void of any sleepiness, adopted the same seriousness as the one the man you were talking to was using.

You didn't know why, call it a gut feeling, but you knew, you just knew, that something was wrong.

—Miss (L/N), this is Fuji Yamamoto. Before anything, I would like to inform you that this call is being recorded for safety reasons and that we made sure that this line is the most secure possible for you and your well-being.

You frowned as you began to raise from your bed, making your way to the window as you listened carefully trying to recall if you ever heard that name, just to find yourself failing at that. And besides, "we"? Who were "we"?

—This is an official call from the Investigation Department of our National Headquarters, miss (L/N), would you have a minute?

You just blinked a few times, registering what the man just said. Was this some kind of joke?

—National Headquarters? —You repeated, not quite believing nor knowing what he was talking about.

—Interpol's National Headquarters located in Japan, miss (Y/N).

Yeah, a joke for sure.

—Oh okay, have a good day you too! —and just with that, you hung up.

Throwing the phone on the bed, without caring, you made your way to the bathroom, ready to start your morning.

Until the ringtone of another incoming call stopped you in your tracks.

You didn't even know why you took the phone between your hands, you could have just ignored it, but you did nonetheless.

—Look, if you're trying to troll someone, you can call another person. —putting the call on speaker, you started washing your face.

—I know this might be a bit unbelievable, miss (L/N), but this is a pressing call, so I'll go straight to the point.

He had a nice voice though, and your hands were all soaking wet, so you just listened while you dried them and your face with a towel.

—We have in our database that you graduated last year with your criminology degree, on top of your class and even placed yourself on top of world's most distinguished, is that right? —He didn't wait for you to answer the question so you just kept your mouth shut, your frown deeper each time he spoke. —And we also found your surprisingly high IQ level. You're practically a genius, miss (L/N).

You decided to keep quiet, not very pleasant memories of your childhood flooding your mind.

—I did say that I was going to go straight to the point, so miss, we need your help.

You didn't know if you should laugh, cry or tell this guy to fuck off at this point

—Is this a joke? —Was everything you could say after all that monologue of his.

—No, miss (L/N), this is a serious matter, and an urgent one for that. The fate of a few lives is practically in your hands, and with your knowledgement and intelligence, we're sure those lives will be well guarded.

Now seriously, it was a joke, wasn't it?

It's true, everything he said was true. You graduated on top of the whole world for what you knew, as extravagant as that sounded, not only in college, but school and high school. Your IQ was one of the highest ever seen or heard of. Recalling all of those times when you were praised for your achievements, the times you were called a genius, and even the overwhelming sensation that came with all of that. The anxiety of it all coming back again.

This could be a joke for all you knew.

—Okay.

Then again, you couldn't help but buy it.

—What do I have to do?

. . .

I know this one is not very enjoyable but I promise the next one is not going to be like this.

❤️✨️