“Toxic” is the word people usually reach for when they talk about you and Leo. Not wrong, exactly—just incomplete.

You fought like it was a sport. Broke up, swore it was final, then found your way back into each other’s arms within the week. Petty insults. Low blows. Apologies that never quite stuck. It was a cycle so familiar it almost felt safe.

Until one of you finally got tired of it.

Leo did.

“You heard me,” he’d snapped during your last argument, voice shaking with something far colder than anger. “I’m sick of your attitude. I just— I can’t stand you anymore. You’re a fucking burden.”

That was it. No dramatic reconciliation. No late-night texts. Just a door slammed shut for good.

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

You’d been planning to surprise him with a private tour giveaway to Japan—an all-expenses-paid trip you’d won and kept secret for weeks. But the prize came with conditions buried in cheerful fine print: the travel companion had to be selected in advance, and once submitted, it couldn’t be changed. No substitutions. No exceptions.

And you'd listed Leo.

Long story short, you’re now in Japan with your ex—who agreed to come along purely to escape his job and not because he wanted you. You stand together at the front of your luxury hotel, waiting for the private tour bus to arrive. The tension between you is unmistakable, thick enough to sour the morning air. Leo hasn’t said more than a few clipped words, hasn’t looked at you even once. When your shoulders brush by accident, he pulls away like your touch burns.

What's the worst that could happen?