The Walls

"Mother, why does father kill all those sorcerers?"

That was how it started. Just one question. If only you could possibly know what it would lead to. Your eyes narrow as you pause your fabric work, studying the embroidery as if that might give you a good reply.

"Because they're evil people," you finally say, puffing up a little with indignation. If Sukuna knew his heir was asking such dumb questions, he'd probably blame you on the spot.

"...alright," was the only response that came before your daughter walked away to go wander the grounds like usual.

It's true that Sukuna had wanted a son rather than a daughter, but when he saw the newborn for the first time, you could've sworn you saw just a hint of...affection? No, that wasn't quite right. More like begrudging acceptance. Like he'd rather have at least one heir than no child at all.

It escalated over the next few days. Even after you'd told your daughter to stop asking questions and trust her parents' guidance, she wouldn't relent. "Even the kind ones?" She'd asked once. "There aren't any kind ones," you had said firmly in response, to which she only nodded a little and walked off.

The odd behavior finally reached a peak when she approached Sukuna, of all people. "What now, brat?" He growled, two of his four eyes focusing in on the sixteen year old girl that he – sometimes reluctantly, it seemed – called his heir. She flinched before taking a deep breath and asking her father the same question she had been pestering you about for months now: "Father, why do we hate jujutsu sorcerers?"

Sukuna glared at her, one of his eyes twitching. "Are you stupid, child?" He asked harshly, leaning down to be on her level. "They kill us, massacre us, eradicate us...and you ask why we hate them?"

Your daughter's brow furrows together. You rush forward to intervene, bowing deeply to Sukuna as you firmly grip your daughter's arm. "I-I apologize, my king. Please, she's just a child – only sixteen!" You try to defend her so you can at least get her away from her father – if only to scold her properly...but Sukuna stops you. "Silence," he snaps. "I want to know what kind of fool my own heir thinks herself to be." Your eyes widen before narrowing to glare at your daughter. You had tried to do something, but now you couldn't. You couldn't believe you had raised such a fool! What kind of person, child or no, asks something like to the King of Curses?!

It's idiotic, it's crazy, it's–

"I'm not a fool," your daughter says simply.

She's insane. Your own flesh and blood has gone absolutely insane. Plain crazy. You never thought you'd see the day.

Sukuna inhales sharply. If you were stupid, you might think he was laughing. But you're not stupid...unlike a certain sixteen year old child who thought – somehow – that she was going to make it out of this scot-free.

"Tell me, brat," Sukuna says the word with exactly the amount of irritation you'd expect in this situation, "have you ever met a jujutsu sorcerer?"

"No, father."

"Have you ever spoken to one?"

"...no, father."

Sukuna scoffs. "Then tell me, child, did you know that they think themselves to be above us cursed spirits? Did you know that they hate us, and we don't even have to do anything to warrant such hate? Are you aware, daughter, that any one of them would kill you at just a moment's notice?"

For once, your child seems to quiet down and consider her father's words. "...no, father. I didn't know those things," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna lets out a long-suffering sigh. "You are my only heir," he states finally. "I won't have you running off and wasting all of the hard work I've put into your upbringing. Understood?"

She nods. "Yes, father. I understand."

"Good." He turns to you. "Take her to go train. It would seem she needs it." You nod and quickly whisk your darling girl away to the training grounds.

You thought that was the end of it. Oh, how horribly wrong you were.

You catch her one night. Wandering around the palace grounds like normal. You've come to accept that your daughter doesn't sleep like normal people. Why would she? She's the child of a cursed spirit, of course nothing about her would be normal. You would shrug it off, and you're just about to...but you see her looking around worriedly before leaving the palace grounds. Your eyes narrow as you follow her further and further away from the palace, until she's just outside where her father's domain would reach. And then he shows up. You recognize hi immediately. A jujutsu sorcerer, about your daughter's age. He's low ranking, not strong enough to be dangerous...but the fact that he's even talking to your child at all makes you bristle. How dare he? Doesn't he know who she is? Who her parents are? Pathetic. He's pathetic, you decide right then and there. Not only that, but Sukuna needs to know, and soon. Among the chatter that he shares with her, you manage to catch a name. Raikan.

Raikan.

You tell Sukuna as soon as possible. He should know. You step into the throne room with your head bowed respectfully, even as your face is twisted up with anger.

"Speak, woman," Sukuna says dismissively. You sigh as you realize that 1. He hasn't even looked up from the scroll he's reading, and 2. he doesn't even recognize you yet. You clear your throat and stand up a bit straighter. It's a bold move, you're well aware, but you're too irritated to care right now. "My lord," you address him by one of his many titles through clenched teeth. When he finally looks up, his eyes – all four – widen a bit. "You. I didn't expect to see you here so early," he says, finally addressing you.

"Your daughter has a crush on a jujutsu sorcerer," you snap, internally flinching at how mad you can't help but sound. Oh well. At least Sukuna seems amused at what he probably sees as pouting, even if only a little bit. But then your words fully register in his head and he stands up, sending the nearest servant scurrying. "What," he growls. "Repeat that for me."

"Your daughter has a crush on a jujutsu sorcerer," you repeat clearly, "named Raikan."

Sukuna storms towards you, already looking like he's about to throw a fit of rage. "She what?!" He roars, voice echoing in the spacious chamber. You don't flinch. You're used to this by now. Used to his bouts of anger. "Where is he? Where is the insolent fool who dares think himself worthy of my heir, my only daughter?!"

"I don't know," you reply simply. "But your daughter is currently in her room, none the wiser that we know of her little escapades outside the palace walls. If you want to know his location, I suggest you go ask her. And be gentle about it," you say firmly.

"Don't tell me what to do, woman," Sukuna snaps before storing off to his daughter's bedroom. You sigh and follow close behind, already preparing for the chaos about to ensue.

"...he's different!" Is the first thing you hear your daughter say. You cringe internally. All of the training she's done, and she's still horrible at negotiations. You do acknowledge that perhaps that's your fault as uch as Sukuna's. After all, if you're the daughter of the King of Curses, you don't usually need negotiation. You had more so taught her to crush her enemies rather than speak with them...

Regardless, Sukuna's response brutally yanks you from your thoughts. "I don't care if he's different! He's not! He would destroy you in an instant if he knew what you were! And then go brag to his clan about it!" He snaps. The way your child hesitates lets you know that she knows her father is right. As kind as Raikan may be, he's still a sorcerer. And he still has a job to do.

"He wouldn't hurt me," she finally says in a shaky voice, at which Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Have we taught you nothing? Have I truly taught you nothing?" He growls. "He would. He would bring your corpse back to his clan with a smile on his face if it meant another curse would be exorcized from this world. Eyes up," he says firmly when her eyes start to tear up. "I raised you better than this, child." Sukuna put a hand roughly on his daughter's shoulder, jostling her a bit. "I raised you stronger than this. Now act like it."

Your daughter nods and straightens up, quickly drying her tears. "Yes, father." Sukuna smiles wickedly. "Good. Go train. And when you're ready...you'll bring me that sorcerer's head on a platter."

She nods. "Yes...I will."

You, for one, have never been prouder.

You tried to keep your hands from shaking as you put on a nice (ish) outfit. The last time you had gone to see Pierrot's show, it had left you shaken and anxious. Of course, the gore didn't help, and when he found out, your beloved Pierrot had apologized profusely. But now you felt you were a bit more mentally prepared. You'd steeled yourself all day against the mental image of the (supposedly fake) blood and knives. It's true that Pierrot is talented, but even talents can be scary sometimes.

When he found out how much his last show had frightened you, he insisted that you didn't have to go to his next one unless you absolutely wanted to, though he lamented that he would miss seeing you in the audience. No, you'd decided. You wanted to see him happy and smiling, even if it was only over this tiny thing.

When you finally walked onto the circus grounds that night, the smell of over‐buttered popcorn, candy apples, and sugary cotton candy hit you like a truck. You inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet smells, feeling sleepy as you wandered slowly towards Pierrot's tent.

When you entered, Pierrot was already on stage. You almost took your seat in the back row, but seeing Pierrot's sad expression at that, you hesitantly moved up to the front row. From then on, after his show started, you could tell your precious Pierrot had a bit more pep and excitement during his performance. His eyes were on you nearly the entire time, admiring your dazed expression with a tinge of worry curling in his chest.

And then, when the show was over, and people began to file out, you carefully made your way towards the back of the tent, through the exit, and towards Pierrot's trailer. Your hands were shaking a little...but at least you hadn't felt like you'd wanted to crawl out of your skin at the sight of the less-than-nice part of the performance.

You knocked on the door to Pierrot's trailer, and he almost immediately opened it, tugged you inside, and sat you down in a chair before you could say anything. Your eyes widened as he sank slowly to his knees as if you were a scared animal, then slowly took your hands into his. His golden-yellow eyes stared into yours for so long that you started to squirm in your seat uncontrollably. "Uhm...Pierrot–"

"Are you alright?" He interrupted you suddenly, his voice a hoarse rasp as usually. "It didn't scare you too much, did it? I was so worried, I could barely focus on the show! You were shaking and your eyes were so wide – it was a bit cute actually, but...I would rather see you happy than fearful, least of all because of me, my dear."

"Pierrot," you murmured his name, gently petting the top of his head – or rather, petting the hat that covered his head, "I'm okay." The clown's head snapped up from your lap so fast you swear you hear it crack and pop a little. "Really?" He breathed. "You're sure? You're not scared of me?" Your heart breaks. "No, not of you, baby, never of you! I'm just...a little squeamish around blood. But not of you. I love you all the same," you say gently, cupping his face in your hands and bending over to kiss his forehead.

When you pull back, he's blushing and his pupils have turned to hearts. "Ah...I see. Then...you liked it?" He asks. You nod and smile. "Yeah." Your sweetheart then stands up, pulling you with him, and buries his face in your neck. "I'm so glad, my dear. I'd hoped you would say that." And with that, he sits down on the bed and pulls you closer so he can cuddle you.