himezoro

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

It wasn't like you were asking him to fire the asshole. Even if you wished he would.

You worked with Yorozu without any actual issues in spite of her snide remarks.

It wasn't like ignoring Naoya would be that much harder.

But once, again, you were wrong.

In a handful of hours, you had already came up with an entire catalogue of things to hate about him.

You hated his smarmy smirk and the annoying voice that came with it.

You hated the way his stare kept drifting towards your chest like he was entitled to the view.

Hated how strong his awful cologne was and how he swaggered around like he was somehow so much better than the rest of you.

He bragged to you while you made drinks about how this was really beneath him, just some PR stunt for his powerful family to make them seem more humble while his father ran for political office.

Almost acting like you should be honored to be breathing the same air as him, grateful to exist in the same space.

Was he born an absolute moron? Or was his misogynistic attitude simply a result of how he was raised? Spoiled until whatever soul he had rotted?

Suguru constantly throwing you those longing glances every time you had to go up to the bar and put in drink orders wasn't helping, especially when you had an annoying fly buzzing around you berating you for just being a woman, demanding to know why you were doing things a certain way as if he was the one that knew the best.

"Can we talk after work?" Your former lover murmured softly when you finally sent Naoya to run out some of your food while you waited on a drink.

"I'm really tired," you quietly replied, rubbing underneath your eyes as you glanced away from him at the handful of tables you had left. Satoru was checking on his own, laughing with the customers - until he somehow sensed you looking his way, his head tilting back towards you just for his smile to immediately transform into that annoyingly cute pout.

"You've been frowning almost all night," Suguru softly pointed out, concern etched into his face that made your chest constrict. You shouldn't let it get to you. Shouldn't let him get to you. Not when you both knew you were sleeping with someone else.

"Long shift," you shrugged, reorganizing your apron as you realized you were already running low on straw again with a sigh.

Suguru noticed.

He could be annoyingly observant when he wanted to be.

"I'll take your drink out for you," he said, giving you an out instead of trying to trap you in a conversation.

Should you appreciate him for being considerate? Or was it really just the bare minimum?

You couldn't tell when some small sliver of you still attached to him sorta wished he'd try harder to get you to stay.

"Thanks," you mumbled, walking away before he could say anything to make you second guess your relationship with him even more.

Besides, you could use two minutes in the storage room to take a break and breathe before you imploded on the idiot who'd been tagging along with you to all your tables.

Was Naoya your sign to quit?

To go home and immediately put in all those applications you'd been pushing off? The universe screaming at you that this wasn't where you were supposed to be?

The door to the storage room swung open right as you were about to reach for it, stepping back just in time to avoid getting hit as Choso's eyes widened, ringed with red as he abruptly coughed and cleared his throat.

"Shit, sorry," he muttered, his deep voice coming out even more gravelly than usual as he dropped something in his pocket.

"No worries," you swallowed hard as he stepped around you, squeezing your shoulder as he brushed by in some gesture of...friendliness?

You were pretty sure he wasn't even thinking about it, his attention already back on the kitchen as he started back towards it, probably hoping to return before Sukuna caught on to what he was doing.

The storage room was empty though, although the smell of his vape was still lingering in the air when you walked up to the shelves.

You reached up for extra straws, exhaling hard as you tried to recollect yourself, the same thought that you only had to make it through another hour before you could go home.

Sixty minutes to suffer through Naoya's never-ending onslaught of complaints and bitching. The irritating comments he'd mutter under his breath and that snotty scowl that was making your tables tip you less despite your best attempts to put on your prettiest smile and turn up the charm.

You had a few minutes before you'd have to go check on your tables again, so maybe you could go to Nanami and ask if he'd go ahead and send Naoya home now so you could tell him all the awful shit he'd been saying to you.

The door opened, but you didn't turn around, distracted still stuffing the straws in your apron when you felt a sudden weight behind you. Part of you almost thought it was Gojo, that this was some stupid joke or him trying to catch you alone to apologize.

But you realized the second the scent of his cologne hit you that it wasn't him.

"So, did you fuck the boss to get your job?" Naoya sneered in your ear, his hot breath making you wince just before something hard pressed into your back.

You felt fucking ill, bumps racing down your arms as you begged your body to move. Some bright red sign flashing danger in your mind while your legs refused to budge as his hand crept underneath the hem of your dress.

"Heard that other waitress yapping about what a whore you are," he snickered, grabbing your ass right as you snapped out of it, twisting hard and bringing your elbow back hard into his face out of pure instinct.

There was the sound of something snapping, but you were storming out before he could retaliate. Throat constricting tight as the edges of your vision blurred, hearing the footsteps behind you but not turning even when he called you a fucking bitch, ignoring the other voices of concerned coworkers you passed by as you hurried straight for Nanami's office.

His head snapped up when you threw the door open and walked in, neat blond brows immediately pinching together in worry at whatever expression you must have been wearing. But you couldn't catch your breath, hands shaking as you weakly gestured behind you as he got out of his chair.

"What happened-"

"He just cornered me in the storage room and grabbed my ass and I-"

You didn't even get to finish stammering out an explanation before loud footsteps made you whirl around.

"You broke my fucking nose," Naoya snapped, absolutely seething as he started back towards you. Blood was pouring down his nostrils, one hand pressed against it to slow it down, but it was still dripping all over the floor.

Before he could get to you, Nanami was moving around to put himself in between the two of you.

"Did you touch her?" His stern voice dropped somehow lower, a degree of lethality in it you weren't expecting when you shrank back.

"Don't act like you didn't like it, you fucking slut," Naoya scowled at you, pointing a bloody finger at you. You were automatically shaking your head, scoffing back at him as Nanami protectively held out a hand in front of you.

"You're fired," Nanami spoke firmly, his shoulders tense as stood completely still. He almost looked like a statue, frozen and frigid as he held fast in place.

"She hit me," he gawked.

"You groped her," Nanami grunted back.

"What the fuck did you do?"

You caught a glimpse of pink in the doorway before Naoya's head snapped backwards - literally.

Sukuna had grabbed his roots, dragging him by his scalp without hesitating for a second, an undignified squeal escaping your former trainee at being physically pulled out of the room.

You didn't have to take a wild guess to assume he happened to overhear.

"You, you-" Naoya stammered, unable to come up with anything remotely intelligent to say as Sukuna just laughed at him.

"What? You don't see a problem with touchin' people when they don't like it so why should I?" He sarcastically retorted, practically growling as he pulled him through to the hall.

Nanami started trailing behind them, and your feet were following before common sense could stop them, even if you knew that it probably wouldn't end well.

Everyone in the kitchen had paused cooking, something clearly burning and making your nose scrunch as all the servers and bartenders stopped what they were doing to watch the latest show.

It wasn't the first time Sukuna had, uh, escorted someone out, but it was the first time it was by the hair. Or with a broken nose.

"My father will-"

"Aw, you wanna go cry to your daddy?" Sukuna mocked him, refusing to stop until he was opening the side door and throwing him out on the concrete before stepping outside too.

"Sukuna, that's enough," Nanami scolded, intending to intervene before it could escalate, well aware of all the eyes on the four of you now as you followed both of them out the exit, but Sukuna wasn't finished.

And neither was Naoya.

"Are you sleeping with her too?" He snapped, mouth opening wide in a nasty smile like he was begging for a few teeth to be knocked out of it. Sukuna shoved him back down against the concrete when he tried to stand, but you were trying to slip past Nanami to preserve what little you had left of your pride after it had been stomped on so many times in the past two weeks.

"I would rather fuck a cheese grater than go within ten feet of your-"

Someone was picking you up before you could finish while Naoya was began sputtering a frenzied insult back.

You didn't get to see what shut him up - just hearing the heavy thud as you were carried back inside.

"Put me down," you huffed, squirming as you were placed back on the ground - while everyone who'd been staring at the door immediately went back to pretending to work.

"You're trembling," Suguru pointed out as you turned around to face him. Grinding your molars as you dug your nails into your palm to stop yourself from shaking, your sharp inhales not doing much to make you seem put-together when you shrugged.

You wanted to tell him you were okay.

But you couldn't come up with something to say that would convince him of that. Not when he knew you well enough to see it all over your expression that everything was wrong.

His hand was on your back, not too far from where Nanami's had been earlier as he rubbed soothing circles over it like he used to do once upon a time. Leaning in closer, attempting to comfort you out of what? Habit?

To try to win you over by reminding you of what things used to be like?

"He pressed his dick against my back and grabbed my ass," you muttered, swallowing the disgust that had crawled back to the surface. Desperate for a shower like you'd be able to scrub the phantom feeling he'd left off your skin. "I was just defending myself."

Sukuna had stepped back inside, Nanami right there with him as he slammed the door shut. You cringed at the sound, the lump in your throat calcifying into something too hard for you to choke down when his mouth twitched down into an even deeper scowl glancing between you and Suguru, who refused to remove his hand.

Probably trying to prove a petty point to Nanami that he wasn't just going to let him have you just like that.

Although the blond man was busy rubbing his temple, jaw clenched at the second mess you made that he'd be stuck helping clean up while Sukuna's stare settled squarely on you again.

"You should've hit that asshole harder."

reblogs + comments are always greatly appreciated

series | latest oneshots | patreon

He was aware that he’d really fucked things up with you in high school - mainly because he hadn’t quite comprehended the idea that someone else would stake a claim on you before he could find the chance to do so himself. 

In his mind, his affection for you had been obvious, and yet, Ryu still decided to get in the way. 

He couldn’t really blame you for basking in the attention that Ryu provided you with back then - not when he’d overheard you explain your reasoning to your friends. You hadn’t believed that Sukuna was serious, had thought that he was just playing with your heart with the intention of one day breaking it. 

Like he’d ever do such a thing. 

So you’d settled for the next best thing, someone who was clear about their intentions, someone who had offered you more than noncommittal flirting. And while Sukuna understood that, he was by no means willing to sit idly by and let Ryu have you. 

He’d spent weeks planning it out - picking the perfect night, the perfect weapon, the perfect words to say as Ryu bled out on the floor. He’d pictured himself as the caring friend, a shoulder to cry on when you discovered your boyfriend laying dead in the garage. 

What actually transpired that night wasn’t really what he’d planned. 

He’d killed Ryu just as he’d intended to, but after he’d cleaned himself up and gone to find you amongst all the bodies at that party, he discovered you in a state of total despair. Apparently your boyfriend, the boyfriend that was lying dead in the garage, had cheated on you. 

With Yorozu no less. 

Your distressed state changed things. You were already clinging to him, more malleable than he was used to you being, clearly a little drunk and sobbing about how you weren’t good enough. It wasn’t an opportunity that he could pass up, forgetting the murder he’d committed in favor of placating you, purring all the right words in your ear until you were putty in his hands. 

He had you in that bathroom without a single thought to how it might complicate the discovery that would be coming your way later in the night. It was short-sighted, he understood that now - a little more patience could’ve earned him four years of bliss with you.

Instead, he had to suffer you avoiding him like the plague all because of your misplaced guilt. If only you could understand that you didn’t technically cheat on your boyfriend, since he was already dead by the time Sukuna sunk into you. 

Not that he could ever tell you that. 

He’d killed Yorozu for the part that she played in the whole mess. If she hadn't thrown a spanner in the works, Sukuna’s plan would’ve played out just as he’d intended, and you wouldn’t be so anxious and cautious around him like you were now. That woman always seemed to find a way to make Sukuna’s life difficult, and he didn’t want to risk any more hiccups when it came to you. 

Besides, he’d seen the way Yorozu spoke to you, you’d probably be happy if she simply disappeared from the world. He did you a favour. The same was true of Ryu’s death - you deserved better than someone who would cheat on you. Sukuna would worship the very ground that you walked on - why couldn’t you understand that already?

But as frustrating as it was, he knew that he just needed to be patient. 

Now that you were back in town he wasn’t going to pass up his chance. Even through all your guilt and your weak protests about some boyfriend back in the city, there was nothing that would stand in his way this time. 

You were always meant to be his, and he knew that you wanted it just as much as he did - you just weren’t quite ready to admit to it yet. But that was okay, Sukuna was more than happy to help nudge you in the right direction. 

First and foremost, he needed to make sure that something was done about that boyfriend of yours or he’d get nowhere - not now you were so touchy about the idea of cheating. 

The day after Toji’s party, Sukuna found himself at the door of the office trailer on the construction site, knocking on it softly and waiting until he heard your soft voice calling out for him to enter. 

It was fortunate that he had such a clear line of access to you, able to apologise face to face rather than waiting for things to be on your terms. He was sure that you’d chalked it up to pure luck that he happened to work for your father, but there was no luck involved - he’d chosen that job out of desperation, hoping that it might one day open an avenue to you.

He just hadn’t anticipated how excellent an avenue that would be.

Likewise, he imagined that it looked like pure chance that he’d cut his hand on some glass the day before, happening to run into you in some kind of meet cute scenario that neither of you could’ve foreseen. Unfortunately, that was all artificial too. Once he’d found out that you were working in the office, he’d cut across his palm with a knife to give himself a reason to go in there and see you. 

It had all worked out great, considering how tenderly you’d held his hand in yours, patching him up like some kind of cute little nurse. 

He’d almost thought things would be easy after that. He’d heard the tremor in your voice, seen the flush on your cheeks, and had figured that you’d succumb to him immediately. But the way you’d reacted at Toji’s party had really put a damper on things. 

Hitting him with an outright rejection all because of fucking Ryu and this new guy was not what he’d been anticipating.

He bet that those damn friends of yours had something to do with it. Yuki had always hated him, taking steps to make sure that he got nowhere near you as long as she was around. He was itching to ensure that she meet the same fate as Ryu, but he was smarter than that - he couldn’t go killing people that you knew indiscriminately or you’d start to suspect something.

Unless Yuki became an insurmountable barrier to the success of your relationship he’d let her live. 

Besides, it was probably better that he avoid putting you in a position where you’d become overwhelmed with grief and trauma - that just wasn’t conducive to a healthy relationship. 

Dealing with your emotional state after Ryu’s death was hard enough as it was. 

Pushing his way into the trailer, he picked up on the way your eyes widened in surprise for a second before you took control over your expression. You looked cute, propped up on a comfy swivel chair, wearing some oversized baggy hoodie that he wished was his. The idea of you wearing his clothes sent him into overdrive. 

There were dark shadows under your eyes, unsurprising considering how late it was by the time you ditched him in the garden the night before. 

“Cut yourself on some more glass?” You asked cautiously. 

He wasn’t quite sure if you knew that he’d been lying about the nature of yesterday’s incident. He didn’t think so - you’d always struck him as mostly naive, opting to see the good in people and believe that they were generally telling the truth. It was a feature that he admired about you, a worldview that differed so significantly to his cynical mindset. 

“Not yet. Maybe later though.” 

He wasn’t going to shut down the opportunity to have you bandage him up again if he could get away with it. 

You pursed your lips. “Why are you here then?” 

“I wanted to apologise.” He had to bite down on his lip a little to stop himself from grinning at the way that your eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting him to say anything akin to that. To really sell his words, he ran a hand through his hair, almost bashfully, acting all embarrassed to be showing up and saying such things. 

He wasn’t embarrassed - he wasn’t even really sorry, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“You were right, what we did that night was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened, not like that at least. Ryu deserved more respect - I just liked- like you so much, and I got carried away, both then and last night. Sorry.” 

The majority of what he was saying was a lie, outside of the part where he said that he liked you. It was what you wanted to hear though - if he was going to disarm you he had to placate you first, tell you all the sweet things that would bring him back into your good graces. He certainly couldn’t go around telling you the truth, which was that he had no interest in showing Ryu any respect - before or after his death. 

In fact, knowing that Ryu was dead in that garage, picked apart by Sukuna’s own hands, had probably turned him on even more than usual on that fateful night. 

Maybe one day you’d be receptive to hearing such a thing, after he’d corrected certain flaws in your manner of thinking, but that was a long way off. He needed to take it one step at a time and eventually he’d get everything he’d ever wanted. 

“Oh. Uh- thanks, I appreciate that.” 

You were fidgeting with your hands, eyes darting about as if you were too nervous to look at him properly. It was annoying, because he’d spent so much time in high school working on your relationship, building your confidence up until you finally slept with him. Now here you were back at square one, avoiding eye contact with him just like you had when you’d first met. 

“We should start over,” he said, placing a hand down on your desk, encouraging you to acknowledge him. “Let me take you to lunch today.” 

“I don’t know-” 

“As friends. I’ll pay, as an apology for last night.” 

You glanced up at him then, an almost defensive look in your pretty eyes. He’d come on too strongly yesterday and it had really put your guard up around him. It was his own fault - he should’ve taken a more lowkey approach, but knowing you were back in town after years apart had him acting a bit crazy. 

“Just as friends?” You confirmed, the words coming out slow. 

“Yeah. I’ll get you those pancakes that you like at Doug’s and you can tell me all about that little boyfriend of yours.” 

—

Kashimo was mind-numbingly boring. 

You’d been talking about your boyfriend, if he could even be called that, for about five minutes now, and there wasn’t a single thing about him that convinced Sukuna he was even remotely deserving of your time. 

Sitting across from you in a comfy booth at the back of the diner just felt right, and from the way that you were speaking about Kashimo, he couldn’t really imagine that man is his position right now, gazing at you affectionately as you scoffed down your pancakes. There was no way your new boyfriend would appreciate it, appreciate you, in the way that Sukuna did. 

The only reason that he hadn’t voiced that opinion aloud was because he wanted you to keep talking. This was the most he’d heard you speak in a long time without your tone affected by an edge of caution, and he was enjoying hearing the angelic timbre of your voice - even if he was less than moved by the content itself.

From what he could figure, you weren’t really that interested in Kashimo yourself. He’d heard you speak more excitedly about Ryu than you currently were about this university fling of yours. It all sounded very safe and nice - the usual story of meeting in some elective class, with him asking you out on a couple of dates, which you of course said yes to because you’d never been very good at saying no. 

It wasn’t like things got more exciting from there. He took you on the classic dates to independent coffee shops and artsy cinemas, trying to impress you and trick you into believing that he was some deep, free thinker - as if every other university boy wasn’t doing the exact same thing. 

There was no passion in your voice, nothing that moved Sukuna to believe that Kashimo was a genuine threat in the way Ryu had been. As far as he could tell, you were only dragging the whole thing out because it was comfortable, and perhaps out of fear of having to turn the boy down. 

Sad really, how unwilling you were to chase after your own happiness when it was right there in front of you - content to settle for mediocrity just to make some irrelevant person happy. That was another trait of yours that he desperately needed to correct one day. 

“So, what do you actually like about him?” Sukuna asked, interrupting your spiel about some music charity that Kashimo was currently working for.

He’d noticed that you were talking a lot about Kashimo’s jobs and hobbies, and saying very little about your actual relationship. Your descriptions of Kashimo sounded more like you were reading off a wikipedia page rather than dating the guy.

You blinked a couple of times, as if caught off guard by his question. “Oh- uh- well, he’s really nice. Like, such a genuinely kind person.” 

Sukuna frowned. “Nice? Come on, that’s the first thing you thought of? There’s gotta be something more than that, right? Is he good in bed or something?”

“I’m not gonna talk about that,” you said defensively, cheeks warming. To Sukuna, that response was a pretty conclusive no - if he was something special then you’d probably be willing to discuss it. “I mean, I admire how creative he is. He’s the lead singer in a band and he’s really good. Plus I like how dedicated he is to his work and stuff…”

It wasn’t convincing, he was pretty sure that you weren’t even that convinced. You still hadn’t mentioned anything about how he made you feel, or the things he did for you. Everything just felt impersonal.

“Right. So are you guys gonna get serious then?” He asked, enjoying the way that you grew noticeably frazzled, taking a long sip from your cup of coffee to buy yourself some time before responding. 

“I don’t know. We live so far apart now, and he’s always busy with stuff, we’re not even uh- super official so, yeah… I don’t know.” 

Sukuna grinned, glad that you’d finally come clean about the status of your relationship, or perhaps situationship, just as he’d suspected it to be from the start. That made things simpler, how hard would it be to break you up with someone that wasn’t even really your boyfriend? 

“It kinda sounds like he’s stringing you along.” 

You giggled softly and shook your head. “More like I’m stringing him along. He asked me to move in with him when I left town but- yeah, I don’t know. After everything with Ryu, and some other stuff, I just don’t feel like I’m ready for something that serious.” 

Sukuna hummed. He suspected that the ‘other stuff’ that you referred to had something to do with him. It wasn’t like you were doing a good job of hiding your desire for him, putting up something of a fight whenever he’d approach you but ultimately faltering under the smallest amount of pressure. He knew that you still wanted him, held back only by your own morals and guilt. 

There was a reason that you still agreed to go out to lunch with him, and it wasn’t really because you just wanted to be friends. You were no better at resisting him than he was at resisting you - you were just better at pretending. 

“That’s fair enough. It’s smart to take some time to think about what you want, no point rushing into anything.” 

Unless you were rushing into his arms, of course. 

“Exactly,” you said with a smile, turning your focus back to the plate in front of you and scooping up the final few mouthfuls of pancake, smearing syrup over the corner of your mouth in the process.

Sukuna couldn’t help but think how sweet you looked. He’d love to lean over the table and lick the mess from your face, taste the sugariness of the syrup paired with your enticing lip gloss. Though he assumed you probably wouldn’t appreciate such an action, not right now, at least. Instead, he pointed to the corner of his own lips, alerting you to the presence of the sticky substance. 

Your tongue darted out to clean it, failing miserably. Rather than allowing you a second attempt, Sukuna picked up his napkin and reached over to you, softly dabbing up the liquid. You froze beneath his touch, watching him cautiously, your shoulders only relaxing when he pulled back without further incident. 

“There you go,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks.” It was a shy, bashful response, leaving your cheeks ever so slightly flushed. A heavy silence hung in the air between you for a few seconds before Sukuna decided to fill it with more of his bullshit apology, now that you were done with all the Kashimo talk. 

“I really am sorry, you know. For what happened that night with Ryu, and for coming on too strong lately. I get that you have a boyfriend, and still feel guilty about what we did. I respect that you can’t just move on and pretend like nothing happened.” 

You offered him a small smile, nodding along at his apology. “It was just- that was the worst night of my life, you know? I can’t look at you and not think about it.” 

“I know, I get it.” 

“Maybe one day, maybe after a bit more time, but right now I still find it hard to live with myself.” 

The sad little smile marring your pretty face didn’t sit well with him. You were such a good, kind person, always worrying about how your actions affected others. It wasn’t like you were responsible for Ryu’s death - no one was, with the exception of Sukuna alone. Besides, Ryu had cheated on you first, you deserved to get your own back for that. 

“I’m not saying this just to get my way, but you know that it wasn’t your fault, right?” 

“I know that, I just-” 

“I get that you can’t really see it, I just wish that a horrible coincidence wasn’t the thing that stopped…this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, mirroring the sad nature of your smile. 

“Me too.” He barely heard you, your voice a whisper. He watched the way your fingers twitched nervously, as if contemplating whether you should be having this conversation with him at all. 

“To be honest, I’m just still kind of angry with myself. I wish I’d told you how I felt before Ryu did. Or at least, I wish we hadn’t had sex that night, maybe that way I wouldn’t be tainted for you? I know you’re with Kashimo now, and I’ll respect that, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t wish we could be together.” 

He was putting on his best ‘I’m so sad and I’m so sorry’ face and hoping that you’d eat it up. You were the type of girl who had infinite empathy for those around her, the kind of girl who would cry when an animal died in a movie. He was sure that you’d be easily moved by his sorrowful expression. 

“Sometimes I wish that too,” you said honestly, eyes flitting between him and the table. “Everything just ended up getting too fucked up - maybe we just weren’t meant to be.” 

“Maybe,” he hummed in agreement, despite his brain screaming about how you were dead wrong on that front. “But who knows what life holds. I think that if we were meant to be, one day we’ll find a way to each other. Just like how we stumbled across each other again working for your dad, nothing is certain.” 

Boldly, he reached out across the table, his fingers grazing the back of your hand. You didn’t pull away, eyes dropping down to his fingers but making no further acknowledgement of the action as you raised your head once more, staring evenly back at him. 

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

He wished he could read your mind, eager to pick apart what you were thinking. Were you moved by his desire to be with you? How much pushing would it take for you to give in? You’d literally said that sometimes you wished you were with him too, how hard would it be to get you to take the leap? 

Once again the silence felt heavy, gazes focussed on each other. You were fixing him with an odd sort of look, lips parted like you wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out. He wondered if there was a part of you calculating what would happen if you were to throw caution to the wind and give him what he wanted.

He certainly hoped so. 

But you seemed to realise your mistake before you could quite get there, swiftly scrambling to fill the silence, pulling your hand away gently and turning the conversation back around to Kashimo, as if that would obscure your flustered reaction to his touch. “My- my boyfriend is coming to visit in a few weeks.” 

Sukuna’s gaze darkened in annoyance for half a second, frustrated to be shut out again, only to quickly conceal it. He needed to stop viewing this as a short term game - if he started getting angry that you weren’t being more receptive more quickly, he’d be at risk of getting shut out completely. He couldn’t act like some needy incel, he needed to act like your genuine friend and wait until the perfect opportunity arose to pull you to his side. 

Besides, Kashimo’s presence could be a good thing - he could use it as an opportunity to sabotage your relationship, to make that man look bad and make himself look good. If push came to shove, he could use it as an opportunity to deal with Kashimo in the same manner that he dealt with Ryu. 

“Oh yeah? You should introduce us.” He offered, as if he hadn’t been telling you how much he wanted to be with you just moments prior. 

You bit down on your lip, folding your hands carefully beneath the table, firmly out of his reach, as if recovering from the spell you’d temporarily been under. “I- um- don’t know if that’s a good idea.” 

“Aw, come on.” He leaned forward, propping his chin up on his hand. “We’re starting fresh, remember? I won’t mention any shit from the past, we’re just friends. I can be perfectly civil with him, just like I always was with Ryu.” 

That wasn’t a lie - he’d be outwardly friendly and he wouldn’t outright mention your past entanglements because it wouldn’t serve him well to do so. 

Should you let him meet Kashimo? Probably not, because he was certainly going to venture out of his way to twist the situation in his favour, but you’d absolutely never know that. You’d always been far too trusting. 

As far as you’d see any interaction between them, Sukuna would be the perfect friend, displaying kindness and interest with absolutely no ulterior motives at all. He’d been good at acting that way with Ryu, and he was certain he’d find Kashimo just as easy. 

People really weren’t all that complex. 

“He’s coming just in time for the reunion, so you’ll probably see him anyway,” you said with resignation, as if you’d spent the previous few seconds considering all the ways that the meeting could fall apart. 

Sukuna practically beamed. “Great. Can’t wait to meet him.” 

—

In the weeks leading up to Kashimo’s visit, Sukuna made sure to utilise his time to the fullest extent, preparing for what he knew would be his best shot at effectively drawing you to his side. 

Part one of his plan went off without a hitch, as it involved maximising the time spent with you over those weeks. That had been pretty easy considering your shared employment - he’d eat lunch with you every day without fail, be it in your office trailer or out at Doug’s. At first you’d shown something of a reluctance towards those daily meetings, but it only took around a week for you to come around. 

You’d always been at least a little fickle where he was involved - he just needed to push the tiniest amount for you to be all pliable, even if you desperately wanted to pretend that wasn’t the case. 

So by the time Kashimo arrived, you and Sukuna seemed to be the best of friends. You’d opened up to him significantly, giggling freely at his jokes, openly seeking him out for your lunchtime hangouts, and even letting slip vital information surrounding your true reservations about your relationship. 

It was ideal for him, it felt almost like how you’d act with him back in high school - back when you’d go running to him to complain whenever Ryu would upset you, as if he wasn’t supposed to take that as a sign of how much happier you’d be with him. 

You’d confided that you weren’t passionate about Kashimo - you were sitting on the fence, wondering if you’d ever feel genuine love for him beyond simple comfort. Words that came as music to Sukuna’s ears - even if he was sure to hide how happy it made him. 

In his time with you he’d done an excellent job of playing friend, and with the exception of your first lunch together, he didn’t bring up his love for you again. He needed it to look like he had your best interest at heart whether it involved him or not. Otherwise it would be hard for him to seem genuine when all his scheming came to fruition at that stupid reunion. 

So, dealing with you he had down - he was proud of it, it felt like he was halfway to success. However, the second aspect of his plan, which had little to do with you, was a little trickier to pull off in the way he was hoping. 

His original idea had been to dig up dirt on Kashimo, figuring that most people had at least some skeletons in their closet - Sukuna certainly did after all, though likely in a more literal sense than most. 

Subsequently, he’d gone online and stalked the guy to the greatest extent possible, which was minimal, because Kashimo had one of those stupid private Myspace profiles where only friends were able to see your stuff. That was annoying, and led to Sukuna making a fake account, with some stolen picture of a hot girl. 

Kashimo accepted the friend request from ‘her’, which meant Sukuna had access to his posts and photos, but was dismayed to find nothing sinister at all. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, considering that Kashimo had you as a friend on the platform - if he was up to anything weird, he probably wouldn’t be sharing it in such a public place. 

That led Sukuna to make an attempt at chatting with Kashimo online, figuring that he could send a few flirty messages and have the man gagging for the fake woman that he’d so painstakingly created - spending an ungodly amount of time curating her profile to make her seem so real and interesting, all artsy like the type of girls he’d imagine Kashimo to be ideally into. 

And yet, that asshole shut things down instantly, replying to messages with cool responses, even pushing back with an ‘I have a girlfriend’ message when Sukuna started to come on too strong. Unlike you, Kashimo seemed steady in his affection for you, already loyal to a fault, which was really fucking annoying. 

Since the guy wasn’t engaging with anything obviously shady, and was unwilling to be pushed to cheat, which would’ve provided clear evidence of the man’s rotten nature for him to share with you, Sukuna decided that he needed to take matters into his own hands. 

If Kashimo wasn’t going to do it himself, Sukuna would do it for him. 

Wasn’t he fortunate to have a friend that was so good with photoshop? 

“Alright.” Satoru said, flicking through the pictures on his computer screen, scrutinising each incriminating image of Kashimo that he’d so painstakingly edited. He was sitting cross-legged on his swivel chair, while Sukuna lounged on his bed, waiting for him to finish up before passing judgement on his creations. “This’ll probably work.” 

Sukuna sat up, peering over Satoru’s shoulder at the screen, grin widening with each image that he observed. Satoru had really put his graphic design degree to good use, because Sukuna totally bought that the images were real. So many of them were awful for Kashimo, displaying him engaging in all manners of debauchery: snorting coke, getting in fights, touching girls who certainly weren’t you. 

Perfect. 

This was one of those rare times where he was actually grateful that he had Satoru as a friend, and he was equally grateful that the man had such a low moral compass for most things. Some friends would stop their buddies from trying to sabotage the relationship of a girl they liked - not Satoru though. 

He’d known for years how much Sukuna was into you, and was more than happy to help the relationship along for the sake of the boy he’d been friends with since birth. 

Obviously, Satoru didn’t know everything. The murders were something that Sukuna would be keeping to himself, since he wasn’t sure that his friend would be as willing to abide by that. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“So, what’re we doing with the pictures now?” Satoru asked, twisting around to look up at Sukuna.

That part of his plan wasn’t really in place yet. He knew that he wanted to dig up dirt on Kashimo, or in this case - invent it, but he wasn’t sure how to go about presenting it all to you without him looking bad. You couldn’t see him as having any nefarious intent or the whole thing would collapse. 

“I guess I just show them to her after the reunion? Tell her Kashimo confided in me or some shit. Tell her he added me as a friend on that private Myspace we’re making for him, I don’t know.” 

Satoru frowned. “No, no, no - it can’t be you telling her dude, do you think she’s stupid? She knows that you’re into her and she also knows that you’re kinda a jerk. If you show up with a load of printed images of her boyfriend she’ll smell bullshit from a mile away.”

He had a point. 

“Then what? I play the long game? Pretend to make friends with the dude and then bring out the photos when she wouldn’t be expecting it?” 

Satoru hummed, scratching his chin as he stared up at the ceiling. For a moment, Sukuna thought he’d zoned out entirely, gaze fixed on the plastic stars that had decorated his room since childhood. Sukuna had spent many a sleepover staring at those stars, wishing that he lived in a house as nice as Satoru’s. 

“What if I tell her?” Satoru suggested. 

“Huh?” 

Sukuna didn’t love the idea of Satoru talking to you. Despite the fact that the two of them had been best friends their entire life, it didn’t prevent jealousy from taking root where you were involved. He knew that Satoru was handsome and charming, knew that girls tended to like him. Sukuna didn’t want you falling for that trap off the back of Satoru revealing your boyfriend to be rotten.

Satoru rolled his eyes, well aware of Sukuna’s tendency to be possessive. “Its more real if it comes from someone other than you. She can hear it from me and then go running into your arms for comfort later, and you can be all clueless. Isn’t that your ideal scenario?” 

It was. 

“I can go up to her, and talk about how I think I’ve seen her boyfriend before. I can ask her if he was at- what gig was it that we saw on the website for his charity? Green Clover? I can ask if he went to a Green Clover gig lately and when she says yes, I can act all weird until she asks me what’s up.”

“Act weird?” Sukuna asked. 

“Yeah, I can act like I just realised something that I feel a bit awkward to say, then when she pushes, I can spill that I saw him doing some unsavory things, and that I have him on a private Myspace account where he posts all of his partying stuff. Oh! On the fake Myspace profile we created, let's make some phoney emails from escorts and stuff!” 

“Sure.” Sukuna liked that idea. He wasn’t great at this side of things - he barely bothered with technology himself, and couldn’t profess to understand it. His flip phone was mainly used for the sake of texting you and his friends, he wasn’t bothered with all the new online shit like Myspace - making a fake account to befriend Kashimo had been pushing the extent of his skills. If Satoru hadn’t been willing to help, perhaps he just would’ve jumped straight to dealing with Kashimo the old fashioned way, which probably would’ve backfired significantly. 

All this build up was necessary. Your view on the man needed to be shifted before anything unfortunate could befall him. 

“Cool, I’ll start on that now. Man, this is so fun, I wanna build more fake profiles. Maybe your girl will get another boyfriend after this one and we’ll get to do this all over again!” Satoru’s voice was cheerful, and it was fortunate for his mood that his blue eyes were fixed on the screen again and not on Sukuna, who was positively glowering at that statement. 

“Don’t even joke about that shit,” he snarled. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Satoru dismissed him with a wave. “You guys are destined or whatever, I’ve heard it all before. Let me focus. Once I’ve done this we can go over all the details to make sure there’s no holes in the story.” 

Sukuna nodded, laying back down on the bed, shoving several of Satoru’s plushed animals to the side. He couldn’t understand why the man had so many, he was in his twenties for fuck’s sake, did he really need thirty teddy bears to cling to at night? 

“One thing I’m concerned about,” Satoru said after a bit of silence, “what if, after I tell her, she straight up confronts Kashimo and he denies everything?”

Sukuna shrugged. “You say he’s just lying to save his skin. We’ve got proof after all.” 

“Not really though.” 

“I’m not worried about that part.” Sukuna said honestly. “She hates attention, so I don’t think she’d confront him at the reunion, plus she said he had to head home right after. Besides, she’s the type of girl who likes to think things through - especially after everything with Ryu - it's more likely that she’ll shut down and give it some thought before confronting him at a later date. She might want to wait until after she’s had a chance to see your evidence too.” 

Satoru hummed. “That doesn’t solve the issue though, does it? She’ll still confront him eventually.” 

A smile curved up on Sukuna’s lips, one that Satoru didn’t quite catch, his focus still fixed on the glow of the computer screen. 

“You just work on getting these fakes right. Let me worry about the rest.” 

—

The reunion was being held in the gymnasium of the high school, all set up with dozens of big tables, with a massive banner in school colours reading ‘welcome back, class of 2003’. It didn’t look unlike various school dances that Sukuna had attended during his time as a student, albeit there were bottles of wine on the table at this particular function, and the attendees all looked significantly more grown up than they had back then. 

He supposed he’d probably changed too - although he’d always been big, and he’d gotten the first of his many tattoos at sixteen, so perhaps his transformation hadn’t been as significant as other people’s. 

The room was already filled with people, some sitting at tables while others mingled around the room, holding glasses of wine or bottles of beer. He’d arrived fashionably late, not the least bit eager to be one of the first ones at the event, only really attending at all because he knew that you would be here. 

He couldn’t care less about most of these people, didn’t even know half of them - a reunion was something that he was wholly uninterested in. He couldn’t give less of a shit if Kusakabe was married now, or if Nanami had started up his own business in the city - the only person who mattered was you. 

It was easy enough to spot you as he pushed through the sea of people. You were sitting at a table towards the edge of the room, with Shoko and Yuki to the right of you. The three of you were giggling about something or other, and he felt his heart pick up with joy at the sight of you. Your smile was so radiant - he loved the way that it lit up your whole face, crinkling the corners of your eyes. 

If only you could smile at him like that everyday. Waking up to that sight each morning would probably send him straight up to heaven. 

You were his angel. 

Thoughts of your beauty almost had him forgetting his current situation, only brought back down to earth as he scanned over to your right, all of his joy quickly dissipating at the sight of the man sitting beside you. 

He’d spent enough time stalking the guy and forging imagery to recognise Kashimo on sight, with those shiny cerulean eyes of his and obnoxiously dyed hair styled in a stupid half bun. He looked even more ridiculous in person than he did in his pictures - what you saw in the guy was absolutely beyond him. 

Much to his chagrin, Kashimo seemed to be chatting away to Choso, who was supposed to be Sukuna’s friend. He was going to keep that betrayal tucked away in the back of his mind for the future, but he supposed Choso probably didn’t have much choice - Yuki had no doubt encouraged him to play nice, and the boy had no backbone when it came to her. 

She really was the worst. 

Either way, there was no point in contemplating things. He was prepared for all this - of course he was going to see you and Kashimo together, that was normal, you’d come here together, he just needed some time for the reunion to get rolling, then Satoru would swoop in and kick things into motion. 

But first, he needed to make himself as friendly as possible. 

“Got space for me here?” His crimson eyes were fixed on you as he approached the table. “You guys are the first people I’ve seen that I actually know, I mean, did these people even go to our high school?” He jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the other tables. 

“I’m certain you have other friends you can sit with.” Yuki deadpanned, her expression less than pleased with his presence. He’d anticipated such a response, so he ignored her entirely, keeping his gaze set on you. 

You wouldn’t cast him aside, not after all the time you’d been spending together over the last few weeks. You were friends, and what kind of person would turn away a friend? Definitely not a kind soul like you. 

“Of course you can sit with us.” You chirped with a smile, gesturing to the empty seat next to Choso. “We were just talking about that time that Gojo got really drunk before a school dance and then got up on the stage and confessed his love to Shoko.” 

“Humiliating.” Shoko said, covering her eyes, “I still get nightmares about it.”

“I think Satoru does too.” Sukuna said with a laugh. 

He could remember that night well - him and Satoru had drunk a shit ton of absinthe before the dance, and unlike Sukuna, Satoru had no skill at all in holding his liquor. Shoko had tried to help get him in a car and safely home, only for him to escape her grip and tell her that he loved her. 

He couldn’t remember anything the next day, and considering that he’d been dating some other girl at the time, she wasn’t best pleased at hearing her boyfriend profess his love for someone else. 

It was really funny though. Even Satoru could laugh about it now that the humiliation had worn off a little. 

“Oh, Sukuna, this is Kashimo by the way,” you said as the laughter died down. “Kashimo, this is Sukuna, he’s an old friend of mine.” 

“Hey man,” Sukuna said politely, holding a hand out for Kashimo to shake. He ensured that his grip was strong, almost testing the other man’s strength and finding him to be inferior, just as Sukuna had expected. 

“Damn, you’re pretty bulky. Do you live at the gym?” Kashimo asked, pulling his hand back and shaking it ever so slightly, as if trying to hide the extent to which the handshake had bruised him. 

“Something like that. Working construction keeps me strong.” 

“Oh, do you guys work together?” Kashimo asked, glancing between the two of you. 

“Kinda.” You shrugged non-comittally. “I mostly work alone because I’m inside the office all day while he’s out doing the actual work.” 

Sukuna sucked on his lower lip, very interested in the way that you’d effectively just lied. Considering that Sukuna was in your trailer every day without fail, your response didn’t make a whole lot of sense - it was clear that you didn’t want Kashimo to know how close the two of you actually were. 

That was fine. It just reassured him that you definitely still had feelings for him. If you had nothing to hide, you’d be more upfront about your friendship. 

“What do you do Kashimo? Something creative? You’ve got that cool look about you,”

Kashimo practically beamed at the praise, completely disarmed as he launched into a whole spiel about his music charity thing, which Sukuna had no interest in listening to because he’d already heard it all from you. Not to mention, he could probably recite that man’s whole life story after all the internet stalking he and Satoru had engaged in. 

Some people were just so easy to play - give them the smallest compliment and they were really ready to believe that someone had their best interest at heart. Thank god for fools like him making Sukuna’s life so much easier. 

Largely zoning out Kashimo’s words while he droned on and on, Sukuna’s gaze flickered momentarily over to you, satisfied at the realisation that you were already staring at him with wide eyes. It was almost like you were seeing him for the first time, comparing him to the man at your side and finding yourself captivated by your old flame. 

He offered you a smug smile, meant only for you, appearing and disappearing in the span of a couple of seconds. He then turned his attention back to Kashimo, and proceeded to slip into his role. Until Satoru came to drop his bombshell, Sukuna would be nothing less than perfect. 

It was after food had been served out on the tables that the part of the plan he’d been awaiting finally fell into place. 

Sukuna had headed away from the table for a while, under the guise of wanting to speak with Toji, but really because he wanted to give Satoru a window to speak with you without him being there. 

They’d discussed it beforehand - Satoru was to wait for Sukuna to leave the table and that was his cue to go and deliver the news to you. 

Away from Kashimo, of course. 

And his blue-eyed friend seemed to play the role perfectly, heading up to your table and engaging in excitable small talk just like he always would, making all the girls laugh raucously. He spent almost five minutes building rapport at the table, before turning to you and saying something with a serious expression, having you follow him over to a more secluded part of the room. 

From there, you were out of Sukuna’s line of vision, and he just had to hope that Satoru would deliver the message like he was supposed to. He should really have more faith in the man, but he felt jittery about the idea of anything going wrong. He’d already destroyed one chance with you and it had cost him four years of time at your side. 

He didn’t want to fuck this chance up. 

“Hey, who's the hot guy at your table?” 

He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Uro sidling up to him, swirling wine in her glass. Her eyes were fixed on Kashimo, who was still locked in conversation with Choso.

Shrugging, he mumbled an answer about how Kashimo was your boyfriend, uninterested in really engaging in conversation with someone as annoying as Uro.

“Really? He’s so hot, better looking than Ryu. How does she even get these guys?”

Sukuna was moments away from telling her to fuck off, potentially proceeded by a long rant about how Uro couldn’t even begin to compare to your level of beauty, but he held himself back as a sudden thought popped into his head. 

How would you feel if you came back from your harrowing conversation with Satoru, only to see your boyfriend chatting with Uro? 

He shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve heard this guy is rich as fuck too. Apparently he gets into all the best clubs in the city. He’s a real catch. I feel like he’s probably on the fence about their relationship too right now.” 

Shooting a sidelong glance at Uro, he caught the way that her eyes practically lit up at his words. It was an insane reaction since she was currently dating Toji, who was only two metres away, but she’d always been a shameless little golddigger. 

She ran a hand through her long pink hair, pulling a compact mirror from her purse and quickly applying a new layer of lip gloss before making off in the direction of the table, swinging her hips seductively as she walked. Sukuna wanted to roll his eyes at the corniness of the display, but he wasn’t going to deny that Uro was effectively doing him a favour, so he wouldn’t ridicule her too much. 

Taking another sip of his drink, he watched the scene play out. Uro pulled out a chair next to Kashimo, giggling and leaning in close as she introduced herself. Her body language couldn’t be more obvious, but Kashimo seemed to indulge her all the same, clearly giving her the same speech that he’d given Sukuna, as if she was there with friendly intent. 

You clearly didn’t take it that way, because as you stumbled back into Sukuna’s field of vision, your expression already stormy, you stumbled to a halt mere paces away from your table, lips parting in shock at the sight. 

Uro had moved on to touching Kashimo’s shoulder when she laughed, and that happened to be the position they were in when you saw them. Sukuna watched the hurt and betrayal cross your pretty face, eyes shimmering with tears as you turned away silently, walking off down the hall and abandoning Kashimo to his conversation. 

Perfect. 

Things literally couldn’t have been working out any more perfectly than they were. 

He gave it a couple of minutes to not make things look obvious before heading down the hallway after you, pushing through the double doors and into the dark corridor beyond, heading to where the toilets were located. He hoped that was where you were, it would be annoying if you’d just up and left, but he supposed he could always drop by your house in that case. 

About ten minutes elapsed before he started to get fidgety, wondering if he should go and look for your car outside. Fortunately, the bathroom door swung open before he could make the decision to leave. 

You stumbled out into the hallway, your eyes and cheeks red from crying, eyes widening in surprise as you practically stumbled into him, steadied by his hands gently gripping your shoulders. 

“You okay?” He asked, eyes taking in your disheveled form. You still looked beautiful, even with your dress all crumpled, your make-up smeared every so slightly. 

“Yep. Peachy!” You said with a shuddering breath, fresh tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, hands soothing your shoulders softly, playing the perfect role of concerned friend as if he didn’t already know everything you were about to tell him. 

“It's nothing, just stupid stuff. I think I’m just gonna go home. I just realised that high school actually sucked for me so I don’t know why I thought it would be fun to be reminded of it.” 

Sukuna tilted his head sympathetically, thumbs rubbing circles into your soft skin. “Is this about Uro?” 

You barked out a humourless laugh. “So you saw then? I bet everyone did.” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty shameless.” 

“It wasn’t like he was stopping it either,” you shot back, lip wobbling ever so slightly. “I’m not really surprised after everything I heard from Gojo earlier, but I feel like I just got overloaded with information and its fucking me up. I feel like I’m sixteen again finding out that Ryu fucked Yorozu.” 

“Everything you heard from Gojo?” He pressed, his face a practiced picture of confusion. 

You shook your head. “Don’t get me started. Turns out Kashimo wasn’t really who I thought he was, so now I just feel like a big idiot.” He could feel you shaking beneath his grip, completely blindsided by everything that was happening so quickly. 

He hummed, pretending to think that over, before dropping a hand down to your wrist. “Come on, let's get you some fresh air. Sounds like you need it.” He softly tugged you down the corridor, and you followed with little resistance, letting him keep your wrist firmly in his grip as he led you out the back of the school. 

The two of you ended up on the field out the back of the building, and Sukuna dragged you over to a bench, sitting you down and making it clear that you had his rapt attention. 

“Tell me what happened, I feel like everything’s a bit too fragmented for me to piece together.” 

“Gojo knows Kashimo. He met him at one of those gigs that Kashimo runs. He said he saw him doing drugs and publicly touching other women.” You took a deep breath. “I know we aren’t exclusive, I chose that, but Kashimo was always telling me that he wanted to be exclusive, that I was the only one he was seeing. He always said he never did any of that partying stuff too. Guess it was all lies.” 

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, red eyes fixed on the field before him as he contemplated what to say next. He figured that to really put himself in your good graces, he might as well take a gamble. 

“Are you sure? Maybe Satoru was talking about someone else.” 

You shook your head, offering Sukuna a little smile as thanks for his optimism. “I don’t see why Gojo would bother to lie about it. It's not like Kashimo is easily mistaken for someone else, and this happened at a gig for one of the bands that Kashimo manages - there’s no mistaking it. Satoru said he could show me some private Myspace profile Kashimo has, but to be honest, I’m not sure I even want to see.” 

Your lack of interest would spell a serious waste of several hours of Sukuna and Satoru’s time, but he supposed he could live with that. 

“Seeing Uro all over him kinda just affirmed everything Gojo had to say. I was on the fence about him anyway, so this is just a sign I guess.” 

“Mmm.” Sukuna started down at the daisies surrounding his feet, giving you the space to continue if you wished to. When you offered him nothing but silence, he opted to fill it. “If you were on the fence anyway, why do you seem so upset?” 

His question was tender, expression soft as he gazed into your teary eyes. Instinctively one of his hands found its way to your cheek, carefully wiping away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. You let him do it, taking another deep shuddering breath. 

“It's not really about Kashimo, I guess.” 

“Then what’s it about?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just- I feel like this is how it always goes for me. Guys who seem nice make me think I can trust them, only for the rug to be pulled out from under me. Ryu seemed lovely until he fucked Yorozu, Kashimo seemed perfect until I found out he was doing all this shit behind my back. Do I just have a terrible judge of character?” 

“Maybe.” He hummed, a soft smile spreading over his face at the way you pouted up at him, clearly not in the mood for jokes. “Men tend to be pigs.” 

“You included?” You asked. 

Oh, definitely.

“I mean, I took the chance to sleep with you the second things went wrong with Ryu, so yeah, I guess it includes me. I’d never pull any of the shit they pulled with you though, I can guarantee that.” 

You nodded thoughtfully, eyes glancing down at your hands in your lap. Sukuna’s hand was still gently caressing your face, stilling tears in their path. He wasn’t sure why you hadn’t pulled back yet, but he’d gladly push his luck as far as it would go. 

“If Uro so much as looked at me I’d tell her to fuck off. Yorozu too. Any woman, actually.” 

You huffed softly. “I believe that.” 

“Yeah?” He’d almost thought that you’d hit back and call him just as bad as everyone else that you’d dated. He was arguably worse - not in his treatment of you of course, but fundamentally as a human being. 

“Yeah, I saw how you treated Yorozu back in high school. You never gave her the time of day.” 

He scrunched up his nose. “Obviously not. She’s annoying as hell. I’m glad she disappeared.” 

“Me too.” 

That caught him off guard, because he’d always thought that you were just too kind to really admit to such a thing out loud. Apparently not. That was a good sign, it meant that one day, in the distant, distant future, you might be receptive to hearing about all he’d done to have you at his side. 

“Honestly, I wish Uro would just disappear too,” you added. 

“Never say never. Maybe she’ll fuck off to be a star too.” 

“Maybe.” You said with a soft giggle. 

If only you knew how willing Sukuna was to make such a thing happen if you really wanted it. For now he was keen to keep Uro alive, because she could certainly serve a purpose just like she had today, but perhaps one day, when he could be more honest with you about his actions, he could kill her for you as a big profession of love. 

Wouldn’t that be romantic? 

“I’m being serious though, you know. I’d never do anything but treat you with the reverence you deserve.” Slowly he pulled his hand back from your face, before sliding his arm around your shoulders. It was a cautious action, allowing you ample time to shuffle away. But you stayed perfectly still - just like all the other times he’s reached for you. 

Your lips parted in surprise, a soft smile gracing your features as you nodded, leaning into his side ever so slightly. “Noted.” 

“I know you’ve got all these reservations about us - the guilt and all that shit. But twice now your choices have failed you. Perhaps it's time to start doing the opposite of what you believe the best path to be.” 

He wasn’t sure what to think of the way that you giggled.

“You really want me huh?” You wiped tears from your cheeks as you gazed up at him, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Spouting all this deep thought nonsense just to try and make me give you a chance.” 

He smirked down at you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. He could’ve backed down, argued that everything he was saying was genuine, but you didn’t seem unhappy, so he figured it was best to go along with the flow. 

“Yeah, you got me. But I don’t think you’re opposed to it. I can see it in the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.” 

The way that you bit on your lower lip was painfully sexy. You made no effort to deny his words, and that might as well have been an admission of love in his eyes. 

“You’re so infuriating,” you said.

“So I’ve heard.”

“And incredibly persistent.” 

“Some would see that as a positive,” he pointed out with a smile. You seemed more at ease now, your tears having stopped entirely. You shook your head with amusement, his heart fluttering in his chest at the action. 

“Look, I’m not having this conversation right now, outside of some stupid reunion where I’ve just found out my boyfriend has been lying to me for months.” 

“So you’re saying you’d be willing to have this conversation another time?” 

You rolled your eyes, shooting him an incredulous look. “You have really selective hearing.” 

“That’s not a no.” 

You snorted. “You’re right, it's not. I just need some time, gotta deal with this Kashimo thing, and figure out if I could even forgive myself for what we did all those years again. Then maybe we can have this conversation.” 

“Mmm, so you do really like me, huh?” 

Letting out a deep sigh, you slipped out from under his arm and stood up, stretching a little. “If Ryu hadn’t died that night…I don’t know. Things might be different - I guess they still could be. Of course I like you, I’ve always liked you.” 

“Me too-” 

“But, like I said, that’s a conversation for another time. I’ve been running from those feelings for four years and I’m not going to jump into your arms the same night that I find out my boyfriend’s been fucking me over. Be patient and maybe good things will come your way.” 

His eyes were shiny with joy, staring up at you eagerly. He sort of enjoyed the way that you were tugging at his leash, laying down the law with him. It was the most you’d ever given him outside of that night that Ryu died. 

He was fucking ecstatic. 

“For now, I’m gonna go back inside, I’m gonna tell Kashimo I feel ill and get the fuck out of here. Then I’m gonna berate him over text message and tell him we’re done.” The initial shock of the situation seemed to have worn off for you, tearful expression giving way for something more hardened. 

You’d grown up a lot from the girl who’d crumbled upon finding out about Ryu’s cheating. 

“And you’re gonna wipe that stupid smirk off your face and go back in there, and you’re gonna act like none of this happened. When I’m ready to talk to you about what I feel for you, I’m gonna let you know. Is that acceptable?” 

He was really struggling to wipe the grin off his face, such an action wasn’t inherently in his nature. But he did give you an affirmative nod - he’d take a few moments before rejoining the reunion to try and stop himself from looking too excited. 

It wouldn’t do to have Kashimo suspecting anything. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he purred.

You stared down at him for a moment, nibbling on your lip for a second before leaning down and planting a quick kiss on his lips. It happened so fast that he hardly had time to register it, failing to kiss you back in any capacity. That was probably for the best, because if he’d had time to do anything, he would’ve pulled you into his lap and kept you there. 

Before he could speak, you were gone, stalking back towards the doors to the school, a slight blush warming your cheeks. He was practically frozen, basking in the feeling of affection that overcame him at the contact, savouring the taste of your lipgloss. 

He needed more of that.

And soon he’d get it. 

—

The rest of the reunion passed without issue. You disappeared off home, and Kashimo stayed for about half an hour before calling it quits himself. 

Sukuna couldn’t quite decide if Kashimo sensed something amiss with your behaviour when you stopped by his table to say goodbye. He didn’t think that it really mattered. As far as he was concerned, his gambit had paid off and his position with you was finalised. You were going to break up with Kashimo and everything would work out in Sukuna’s favour. 

And to make sure there was no chance of anything getting in his way, Sukuna had some matters to take into his own hands. 

He needed to make sure that you and Kashimo had no opportunity to talk about the accusations, and that meant dealing with Kashimo, before he could start asking questions around the specifics of why he was being broken up with. 

He’d be more careful than he was with Ryu, he’d learned from that experience. You couldn’t find out that Kashimo was dead - this time Sukuna was going to make sure that the man disappeared. You already believed that he was a piece of shit who’d been cheating behind your back, it wouldn’t be too far a reach for you to believe he’d simply gotten tired of you and ghosted. 

It would be even easier for you to believe if Kashimo were to send you a shitty text from his phone. 

Yeah, Sukuna would do this in a much better manner than he did with Ryu. There was no space for sloppiness this time around. 

“Car trouble?” 

Sukuna had pulled his car up next to Kashimo's, leaning out the window as he observed the blue-haired man. Your boyfriend was pulled over just outside of town, the hood of his car open, with him bent over it with a look of defeat creasing his brow. 

A flicker of relief registered in his blue eyes at the sight of Sukuna, grinning at him from his own perfectly functioning truck.

“Yeah, something’s fried. Don’t know what. I only took this thing to the garage recently, can’t believe it's breaking down on me already.” 

“I can take a look, I’m pretty good with cars,” Sukuna said with a friendly smile. 

“That would be a big help.” 

Sukuna shut off his truck and leapt out, rounding the car to take a look at the engine. He wasn’t really looking at it, since he was already well aware of what the issue was, having caused it himself. It was easy to sneak into the carpark during the reunion when no one was around, giving him ample opportunity to fuck with Kashimo’s shitty little car. 

“Alternator’s clearly fucked,” he said finally. “I could hit it with a hammer and you might get a few more miles out of her, but you’re gonna need to get that shit replaced as soon as possible.”

“Think it would manage seventy miles?” Kashimo asked, sounding defeated. 

“Doubtful.”

“Shit.” 

“My dad’s got a garage though, I could go and see if he can help out? I should even be able to get you the friends and family discount, although he’s a stingy asshole so we’ll have to see what mood he’s in.” Sukuna stepped back, slamming the hood of the car closed and walking back to his own truck. 

So far this was going exactly as he’d hoped - part of him had been worried that the alternator would hang on for longer than he ideally wanted, and he’d have to follow the fucker halfway home. Running into him out on the highway would be much harder to explain than meeting him just outside of town.

It seemed like it was his lucky day. 

“Hop in, you might as well come with me rather than hanging out around here. There’s weird folk about.” He had to bite down on his lower lip to not chuckle at the irony of his statement, since Kashimo would be far safer if he remained in his car. 

Kashimo gave him a grateful smile, clearly sensing nothing amiss. He rummaged around in his car for a few moments and grabbed his backpack before jumping into the passenger side of Sukuna’s truck. “Thanks man, I owe you one. You’re a good guy, can see why my girl gets along with you.” 

“Yeah?” 

He started up the engine, taking a glance over his shoulder before doing a U-Turn and heading back towards town. He imagined that most people would feel stressed if they were in his position, going back and forth in their minds about whether they should go through with their plan. Perhaps their hearts would be thumping, blood rushing in their ears. 

Sukuna felt none of that. He was completely calm, his heart rate steady, his mind clear. Now that he had Kashimo in his car he felt secure, because he knew with certainty that he could carry out the next bit with flawless efficiency. 

He’d done it before - more than once. In this sort of field, that practically made someone a professional. 

All he’d felt when he’d killed Ryu was satisfaction. The same when he bashed Yorozu’s head in. He’d feel no more remorse over Kashimo. He’d do anything if it meant that he could be at your side, with all potential threats thoroughly eliminated. 

Could anyone really blame him for doing such a thing? He was in love.

“Yeah, not many people would bother helping some guy they barely know - I’m just the new boyfriend of your buddy, it's not like you have any obligation!” Kashimo said fondly. Sukuna had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at how thickly the man was laying on the praise. “You’re a pretty cool dude, y’know?” 

Sukuna chuckled, eyes locked on the road ahead of him. 

“Don’t sweat it. I’m really just doing her a favour.” 

a/n: reader be folding for him so easily :(

hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you for the support! comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! <3

taglist: @indiewritesxoxo @alebrasil0101 @unikittylover57 @maomimii @xadenpoop @mxchiii @tinkspen @martianzmars @drasticallyinluv @grimm3r @choyuxx @janellawliet @nanamigirl4ever @actuallynarii @aiive @chloe022r @targaryenposts @erasersslut @loulasav @natsolox @kenstarsworld @elviqss @blu3berryies @cupidstrace @ksjtozaki @feyrinnn @heartless-rythm @beaniesayshi @shazzer29 @mortallyshadysoul @neverlandqueen36 @sweethoneycream @mikkmmmii @sikurgvx @8nitxe @lexispeak @inmywhitegown @unlimited-impressions @absolutelycaffeinateddevil @paulineeo @onlykuna @jjkfannn34 @queendom-of-yuki @blinmkk @emmaiscool22 @angelbabyy111 @moonsquid49 @0imliterallybatman @crunchycathy @yailuxe 

You’d been the one to discover him - you and one other party-goer. The vision of him, his guts strewn about the place, ribs pulled out one by one, was something that would never leave your mind. Even now, four years later, you’d still occasionally see the image when you closed your eyes. 

An unshifting feeling of guilt had followed you ever since that night, deep sorrow for the acts that you’d committed. You could never quite forgive yourself for the fact that, instead of being at his side throughout that party, you’d been holed up in the bathroom, letting another man fuck you over the sink. 

If you’d been faithful, maybe he’d still be alive. 

There’d been plenty of effort on your part to bury that thought via various different methods. You’d gone off to university, where you’d partied, gotten insanely drunk and fucked your fair share of guys in an attempt to drown your sorrows through hedonism. When that only seemed to make things worse, you’d isolated yourself from your peers, turned to support groups and therapy, hoping that you could let the whole thing go. 

And to be fair to the tenacity of your therapist, while your guilt hadn’t disappeared, it had shrivelled up considerably in that time. 

Enough that your heart no longer palpitated whenever you were back in your hometown - a blessing, considering that it looked like you’d be staying there for the foreseeable future. 

You’d tried to get a job out in the city, but with the dire state of the employment market, you found yourself coming up empty handed. You couldn’t afford to stay in the little apartment that you’d rented out throughout university, leaving you no choice but to return to your childhood home. 

There, at least you could be employed and earn a little bit of money for your future. Your father owned a construction business, and with various expansion efforts taking place on the outskirts of town, his company had been growing in size significantly. It meant that he was keen to have someone manage the more admin heavy tasks that he was struggling to keep up with. 

While it wasn’t your calling, it sounded like fairly easy work and it would keep your dad happy. Besides, there was a part of you that was excited to move back to your hometown. Most of the people you’d known from school were still around, either in a similar situation to you, or having never attempted to leave in the first place. 

Considering that you’d never really clicked with anyone at university, bar one guy that you were currently engaged in some sort of situationship with, you were excited to be back with people that you’d known for years. 

Perhaps that would dispel some of the loneliness you’d been feeling. After years of guilt and isolation, it was time to start moving on. 

“Everything going okay, sweetie? Need anything?” Your dad popped his head around the door of the trailer that served as his office. You’d been rapping your fingers on the wooden desk, staring blankly at the computer before you, waiting patiently for excel to start up. The machine looked like it had been made in the 80s, and it certainly operated like it. 

“I’ll be all good once this thing cooperates.” You responded with a smile. 

“Be nice to it and it’ll be nice to you!” He chuckled, as if the ancient technology was sentient in any manner. You nodded along all the same, knowing that he was being genuine. He wasn’t the most tech literate man, and honestly believed that these things could smell your fear. 

A ridiculous, but endearing quality of his. 

“I showed you how to make an accident report, right?” He continued, expression turning a little more serious. “One of my guys has hurt his hand. Nothing serious but we gotta write it up - think you can handle that, sweetie?” 

You shrugged. How hard could it really be? All you had to do was open up a word template and fill out the questions accordingly before filing it away - any seven year old with two IT lessons under their belt could figure it out. 

“Sure. What was the accident?” 

“I’ll just send him in to explain, he should really be off the clock for today anyway.” Your father gave you a thankful smile before heading back out the door. It swung shut with a heavy creak, and you fidgeted with a pen for a few moments, staring at the digital clock on the desk as you waited for the worker to arrive. 

You hoped that they were a quick talker - it was already 4pm, and you were meant to clock out at 5. Ideally you didn’t want to be here any later than absolutely necessary. 

The door creaked open once more, and you barely raised your head. You didn’t have much interest in your father’s employees, most of them were on the older side, and had been working for your dad since you were a little girl. There was a limited amount of good work in town, and your dad offered one of the few places where a man could find steady employment. 

Naively, you’d assumed that it would be one of those men entering the office. A pleasant old guy who had worked here long enough to remember you coming along for ‘bring your daughter to work’ days. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the deep, familiar voice that sent tingles crawling up your spine. 

“Well, well. Isn’t this a nice surprise.” 

You blinked a couple of times as you looked up, voice failing you at the sight of the man towering over your desk. He’d grown even taller since the last time you’d seen him, if that was even possible. His pink hair was a little longer, still pushed back from his forehead as it always was. More tattoos had appeared on his tanned skin, the ones lining his face just as striking as ever. 

The soft, involuntary gasp that fell from your lips was a little embarrassing, especially considering the way that his grin widened at the sound, sharp canines on display. His red eyes were alight with that same intensity that had always burned within them, that alluring gaze that always felt like it was stripping you down to nothing. 

“Should’ve told me you were back in town,” he said, eyes dragging slowly up your figure, as if assessing all manner of ways you’d changed in the years since he’d last seen you. 

“I- I’ve only just got back, a few days ago.” 

It wasn’t a lie, you really only had been there a couple of days. That wasn’t exactly the reason that you hadn’t reached out though. You’d been avoiding him ever since the murder four years ago, guilt curling in your stomach at the mere thought of him. He’d been the one with you in the bathroom at that party, hands gripping your hips, buried to the hilt inside you. 

While your poor boyfriend bled out in the garage below, Sukuna had been whispering filthy things in your ear, holding you like you belonged to him. 

It was a mistake that you could never take back - a moment of lust, of frustration with your boyfriend, clouding your judgement into a single, awful decision.

“You working here now?” He asked with a tilt of his head, pulling out the chair opposite the desk and sitting down. His tongue swiped across his lip for a moment, the silver of his piercing glinting in the golden light streaming through the window. 

You could still recall the feeling of that little metal ball against your pussy, sobbing softly as he teased it against your clit, fingers digging hard into your thighs, holding you still for him. You hated to admit that for every night you’d spent picturing your ex-boyfriend’s lifeless body, there was a night spent replaying that evening with Sukuna. 

How pathetic. 

“Something like that, yeah.” Your tone was cautious, not sure what to make of all this. You hadn’t expected Sukuna to be working for your dad, had almost expected him to have gotten out of town by now. Despite appearances, he was a smart guy - it wasn’t like some construction job in a dead end town was all he was capable of. 

“Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other then.” 

The statement hung heavy in the air, his eyes fixed on yours. It felt like a test, to see if you’d squirm beneath his statement that almost certainly held double meaning. This was how he’d spoken to you back in high school, greeting you with teasing lines that would never fail to make your heart race, to further your attraction for him. 

He knew exactly what he was doing. 

Even now, your cheeks reddened ever so slightly, gaze dropping down to the desk in an attempt to escape the intensity of his eye contact. 

“I guess so.” 

You fell silent, not sure how to continue. It felt awkward, almost scary to be in his proximity again. There was still so much tension between the two of you, things left unsaid after that evening together. You’d slipped from his grip, lost in a sea of guilt, unwilling to face that night. The few times that Sukuna had reached out via text, you’d ghosted him.

He was a reminder of your sin, one that you wanted to wash away, no matter how much you ached for a repeat of how it felt to have his body pressed against yours. 

It seemed like he was finding your reaction amusing, elation drawn across his handsome face. With the silence stretching on, he leant forward, planting his elbows on the desk. Your skin prickled as he drew closer, almost able to feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke. “So, aren’t you meant to be writing an injury report for me or something, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth opened and then closed again, unsure as to whether you should object to the nickname. One one hand you were currently in some sort of relationship, even if it was a little fraught, and therefore shouldn’t abide by men calling you sweet names. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the way that it built pressure in your gut, to hear the word drawled out in his deep voice. 

“Oh, uh- yeah, one sec.” 

You scrambled to pull up the report, goosebumps rising on your skin at the acute awareness of how closely he was watching you, a soft little smile curving his lips. The air in the room felt too close, charged by his presence. Trying your best to ignore it, you focussed on the document, filling in the parts that you already knew - the basic things like his name and date of birth. 

It was only then that you turned back to him, heart stuttering at the sight of his smug expression. “What- what’s the nature of your injury?” You asked, after clearing your throat, reading the question word for word off the document. 

Slowly, he turned his hand over, revealing his palm to you. You flinched back in surprise at the sight of a deep cut ravaging his tanned skin, blood still trickling from the open wound. He didn’t seem bothered by it, more amused by your shocked reaction. 

“Fuck. my dad said it was nothing, that’s deep!” 

Sukuna pursed his lips before shrugging. “There’s been worse. Some old dude’s arm got chopped off two weeks ago.” 

“Still, we need to clean that up.” You urged, the tense atmosphere lightening a little now that you’d broken the initial barrier of awkwardness. Report forgotten for the moment, you rummaged around in the desk drawers until you found what you were looking for, pulling out a first aid kit. 

He sat still, watching you eagerly as you looked through the kit, pulling out cleansing wipes and a roll of bandages. You didn’t hesitate to reach for his hand, his fingers warm beneath yours while you held him still. You made quick work of wiping up the blood, before wrapping a bandage firmly around his damaged palm. 

You’d have to lecture your father later about taking better care of his employees. If you hadn’t been there what would’ve happened to Sukuna? Would he have just gone back to work as normal? 

What happened to the guy who lost his arm?

“How did this even happen?” You asked, exasperated. 

“Aw, you worried about me?” His palm was still outstretched on the table, even though you’d long since retracted your own hand. 

“I’m worried about everyone working here if this kind of thing is normal.” 

His grin didn’t waver, telling you that in his mind, it was the former. Regardless, he offered you the answer you’d been seeking. “Just some glass buried in the dirt, I didn’t see it before I was sticking my hand in there.” 

Your gaze flicked back down to his hand, brow a little furrowed. You weren’t sure why he’d be doing that in the first place, and his hands were miraculously clean for someone who had been digging around in the mud, but you figured it was best not to pick him up on it. It wasn’t like you really understood the processes surrounding what went on around the worksite. 

“You should be more careful.” 

“When I’ve got a nice little angel in here ready to patch me up when things go wrong? Nah, I think I’ll be more reckless.” He sported a boyish grin, one that you were all too familiar with. It had been reflected in the mirror the last time you’d seen him, when he’d been all up in your guts. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way his smile made your heart pound. It was wrong - you didn't deserve anything with Sukuna - that was your atonement for the cheating, for the betrayal of your boyfriend all those years ago. 

Moving back to the computer, you typed out a quick description of the wound, followed by Sukuna’s short explanation of how it had happened. You then detailed the first aid that had been administered, before sending the document over to the printer to create two copies. Sukuna stayed silent through all of it, crimson eyes just watching as you headed over to collect the freshly printed reports. 

You could feel the way that his eyes lingered on your ass as you walked, making little effort to hide his continuing desire for you. It was as though you hadn’t been gone for four years, like Sukuna had been keeping you in the front of his mind this whole time. 

It was embarrassing how giddy the idea made you feel. 

“Toji’s having a party at his place tonight, you should come,” Sukuna said. 

Biting down on your lip, you hesitated. Partying had stopped being your scene a long time ago - after your first year at university you’d mostly just stayed holed up in your room. Parties came with too many reminders of what had happened to Ryu all those years ago, and you found that it was easier to avoid them altogether. 

Besides, you weren’t sure that hanging around with Sukuna was the best course of action for you. Your history considered.

Sensing your hesitation, he continued. “It would be nice to catch up under better circumstances. Y’know, when I’m not bleeding out and all.” He held up his hand with a charming smile, and you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“I think you’ll be fine,” you said. “I’m a great doctor.” 

“You are.” He agreed. “I think a really great doctor would come and check up on their patient later, to make sure the wound hasn’t reopened.” 

It was a smooth line, that had always been the way that he operated. You were well aware of what he was doing - wise to the gentle, enticing, flirting that was so characteristically him. But it would be wrong to give in, even if you wanted to. Anything between you and Sukuna would always be marred by that fateful night.

Besides, you had your situationship to consider - even if Kashimo wasn’t technically your boyfriend, he still deserved some level of respect. 

The rejection, the lie about being busy, had been sitting on the tip of your tongue when the creaky door to the trailer opened. Your dad stepped in with a kind smile, glancing between the two of you. “Everything all good in here?” 

“Y-yep!” You stuttered over your words, cursing yourself. You hadn’t wanted your dad to sense any tension between the two of you, but the way that you fumbled as you handed Sukuna his copy of the accident report had your dad frowning. 

You weren’t generally a flustered girl, usually very calm and collected. The flush that decorated your cheeks paired with Sukuna’s amused gaze clearly had some cogs turning in his head. 

“Oh, do you guys know each other? You must be around the same age.” 

“We went to school together,” Sukuna said, easily. “It’s nice to see each other actually, we haven't had the chance in the last few years.” 

You nodded along, hoping that Sukuna wouldn’t divulge any further information than that. Your dad certainly didn’t need to know the intimacy with which you’d known each other. In fact, you were rather confident that your dad would hate the idea of you bringing home a guy like Sukuna. He’d always been eager for you to find a nice man with a good job. 

“I was just inviting her along to a party actually. Loads of people she knew from school will be around, I bet they’d love to see her.” 

Sukuna smirked at you as he spoke, like he’d picked up on your hesitation and had known exactly how to counter your uncertainty. To an outsider it all looked so innocent, just an old friend looking to encourage you to reconnect. To your father, there would be no hidden intentions behind the invite, no history to consider. 

“Oh isn’t that nice!” Your father exclaimed with a bright smile, taking Sukuna’s bait easily. “You should definitely go, sweetie.” 

He’d been worried about your apparent isolation throughout most of your university years, and didn’t want you moping around in your room now that you were back in town. To him, this probably sounded like the perfect opportunity to reconnect. 

And you supposed it probably was. 

You just needed to make sure that you didn’t do something you’d regret. 

—

Toji lived in a nice house in the suburbs. 

It didn’t really surprise you since his family had always been wealthy. They ran some sort of agriculture related business and had made millions from it. All of the Zenin kids went on to work there, no need to worry about university or getting their foot in the door somewhere - Naobito would take care of them all. 

It had been Naobito’s house that Ryu’s murder had taken place in all those years ago, during a party that Naoya had been throwing. Apparently they’d sold up after that, moving into a new place across town. Naobito had been very publicly enraged about how the murder had damaged the value of their old house - a place that, for all intents and purposes, had previously been a lovely place to live. 

Toji’s house was smaller than either of the Zenin mansions were, but still larger than most houses in town. The sound of music was blaring from within, a handful of people hanging around on the lawn, smoking and chatting. You didn’t recognise any of them, but Toji was a few years older than you, so you wouldn’t be surprised if they were classmates from his own school year. 

Taking a deep breath, you made your way up the fancy driveway and through the front door, trying not to think too much about the last time you’d attended a party just like this one. It wasn’t like the same thing would happen again, it was narcissistic to believe that the murder had anything to do with you in the first place. 

Even if your guilt wanted you to believe it. 

Inside, you discovered a scene that wasn’t too unlike the parties you’d attended in high school - although, there was a lot less hiding where drinking alcohol was concerned. Some terrible skater anthems were blasting, seemingly courtesy of Toji’s buddy Choso, who had a DJ rig set up in one corner. Everyone was dancing and mingling, and you felt a mild panic wash through your body at the overwhelming number of people. 

Especially because most faces seemed unfamiliar to you. 

The fear dissipated at the sound of a familiar voice, a gleeful shriek of your name followed by the weight of being tackled into a bearhug. “I can’t believe you’re actually back!” Your senses were overwhelmed by the smell of some rosy smelling perfume and the light blonde hair of your attacker falling in the way of your eyes. 

Yuki felt like she was squeezing the life out of you, making up for years of limited contact with a single hug that had you gasping by the time she finally released you. “Hey,” you said with a smile, eyeing her up. She looked gorgeous in a halterneck burgundy dress, her hair flowing freely around her shoulders. 

She’d been one of your best friends in high school. The two of you had always been joined at the hip, along with Shoko, who was currently catching up to Yuki, trying not to spill her drink as she hurried over to you. “Hey girl!!” She was much more careful with the hug that followed, only wrapping one arm around you, aware that her plastic cup was too full to take the risk of hugging you properly. 

“Didn’t think we’d be seeing you until Saturday!” Yuki said with a smile. 

She and Shoko were the two people that you’d actively told about your return to town. While you’d drifted apart over the last four years, all off at your respective universities, you’d still called them every now and then to catch up, keeping each other updated with important life matters with regular texts. 

Yuki had moved back to town permanently after university. She’d landed one of those cushy corporate jobs that lets you work from home four days a week, in which your main job is responding to emails for an obscene amount of money. She could certainly afford to live in the city, but she and Choso had been dating for about a year now, and he had no interest in leaving town. 

Shoko was still going through medical school, attending a university a mere ten miles from your little town. Her mother had been sick when she was first going through the application process, and had therefore opted to select a school nearby. It meant that she could live at home, be with her mom, and save a load of money in the process. 

It would be nice to have your little group back together, and you’d all planned to go and get your nails done together on Saturday, treat yourselves to a nice girl’s day out. You were certainly long overdue one - there was so much that you needed to bring them up to speed on. 

“Yeah, I thought you weren’t big on parties these days?” Shoko enquired. 

“I’m not, but I figured it would be nice to pop along and see some familiar faces.” 

You really hoped they didn’t ask you who had actually invited you to the party. They both knew what had happened with Sukuna four years ago. They were part of an elite, private group that was aware of the truth. That group consisted only of the two of them, and your therapist. And, you supposed, anyone Sukuna might have told. 

In their eyes Sukuna was bad news - they believed he’d manipulated you into sleeping with him and cheating on Ryu when you were in an emotionally volatile state. They weren’t technically wrong, but it didn’t account for how badly you’d also wanted Sukuna, how little he’d actually had to try to get you bent over in that bathroom. 

You’d fantasized about Sukuna long before that night.

Either way, like true friends, they never accepted that any of the blame lay with you, and piled everything on Sukuna - and partially on Ryu for the part that he played in the situation, since he’d cheated on you first. Although blaming the latter was harder to justify considering the depressing end that he’d met. 

It was easiest to just blame Sukuna. And for that reason, they’d been on Sukuna watch for a long time, ensuring that the two of you wouldn’t cross paths, warning you not to respond to him when you’d tell them about texts he’d sent to your phone. 

They’d definitely be angry if they knew you’d come here because of him. 

“Let me get you a drink,” Shoko said, “I’m pretty good at cocktails, you used to like mojitos right? I can make you one.” 

“Oh, it’s fine, I can-” 

“No, no, you guys head out to the garden, I’ll do it!” 

Shoko scuttled off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving her drink in your hands while she went to make you a fresh one. You stared after her, a little perplexed by her insistence since you weren’t sure she’d ever gone to get a drink for you at a party before. For one panicked moment you wondered if the two of them thought you needed babysitting for your first home town party in years. 

Yuki caught your confusion before your theories could evolve any further. “Utahime is in the kitchen, Shoko is down bad for her. She’s just looking for an excuse to go back in there.” 

“Oh right!” You giggled softly. Shoko generally kept things like crushes close to her chest, and was likely doing everything she could to deny having any feelings towards your former classmate, but Yuki had always been far too astute to have such secrets kept from her. 

“Anyway, most of the people we know are out in the garden.” Yuki grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd of bodies in the direction of the patio doors at the back of the house. “No idea who most of the people at this party are though! I think they work for Toji or something.” 

Making your way outside, you were greeted with a beautifully manicured garden, set up with a lovely firepit in the middle, surrounded by an array of benches, crates and camping chairs for people to sit on. You couldn’t picture Toji labouring away outside, so you could only imagine that he had a gardener to keep things in such pristine shape. 

Yuki led you over to the firepit, waving at various people that you’d known from school, parading you around like a trophy. You supposed that your presence was a novelty, since you’d been absent from any such gathering for a long time. 

As she brought you around to the far side of the pit, you caught the eye of Sukuna, sitting in between Toji and Gojo. His gaze locked onto you immediately, a small smirk playing on his lips as he gave you a nod, raising his beer ever so slightly in greeting. Yuki gave you no window to respond, her grip on your hand firm as she ushered you past the man. 

She didn’t want you to acknowledge his presence. 

Even as Gojo stopped you with a bright smile, gushing over how long it had been, Yuki inserted herself in front of Sukuna, effectively shutting down any chance at conversation, giving you a few minutes to fill in Gojo on the last few years of your life before interrupting and dragging you away, claiming that she “deserved more of your time than any stupid boy.” 

The two of you eventually found a seat on a crate a little further around the circle to where Sukuna was situated, next to Mei and Manami, who both seemed thrilled to see you. They hadn’t been your closest friends by any stretch of the imagination, but they’d both been in lots of your classes, and had shown plenty of support when Ryu died. 

As such, you found yourself getting caught up in conversation with them for a while, attention only waning when Yuki started gossiping to Mei about some guy that they worked with, your mind starting to tune out the conversation, eyes drifting in the direction that you knew they shouldn’t. 

Sukuna was already staring at you when you looked over at him, red eyes lighting up in amusement at your lack of resistance to his presence. Unnerved by being caught, you were quick to glance away, reminding yourself that your current kind of boyfriend, kind of friends-with-benefits, probably wouldn’t approve of you looking at or thinking about Sukuna in the way that you did. 

You’d made the mistake with Ryu, you wouldn’t make it with Kashimo.

In a bid to avoid Sukuna’s gaze, your eyes drifted over to his left, where Toji was spread out on a camping chair, lounging in it like it was a throne. He’d always been the type of person that commanded a heavy atmosphere, confident in himself despite all his failings. He and Sukuna had much in common on that front, though you’d always found Sukuna much more palatable. 

There was an intelligence to Sukuna that you couldn’t really see in Toji. You were certain that he was street smart, but his conversations tended to hold little weight. If you weren’t interested in discussing gambling or sex, he wasn’t interested in you. 

Sitting pretty on his lap was Takako Uro, twirling her vibrant pink hair and slapping his shoulder as she giggled at some joke. The sound might as well have been nails dragging down a chalkboard as far as you were concerned, for she was decidedly not your favourite person. 

She and her best friend, Yorozu, hadn’t been all that nice to you during high school, deciding for some reason that you were a decent target of ridicule. You were aware that jealousy had a big part to play in that, since Yorozu had always been down bad for Sukuna, who would never care to spare her a glance but seemed to have all the time in the world for you. 

It led to plenty of instances of bullying - spreading rumors about you, leaving nasty notes in your locker, hiding your normal clothes after gym. For the most part you ignored it, rose above it even. You had good friends, and you knew that Uro and Yorozu would never take it too far for fear of how Yuki would deal with them if you were to tell your friend about their actions. 

That didn’t stop Yorozu from sleeping from Ryu though, bragging about how he’d had her over the desk in an empty classroom, while you were still dating him. She’d said it loud enough for you to hear, turning to grin at you as she smashed your first relationship to pieces. Revenge for garnering interest from a man who wanted nothing to do with her.

That incident was why you’d been so angry at Ryu that night that he’d died, why you’d been so pliable to Sukuna’s advances in a manner that you wouldn’t usually be. 

You supposed that in a way, you got the better of Yorozu in the end. She might’ve fucked your boyfriend, but all it did was drive you into the arms of the true object of her affection. Not very clever of her really. 

“Ugh, gross,” Yuki said, wrinkling her nose as she followed your gaze, just in time to catch Toji sticking his tongue down Uro’s throat. “Thought she’d be less insufferable without her other half but somehow she’s worse now.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you glanced up at her. “Without her other half?” 

“Yorozu.” 

You shot her a blank look that told her you understood who she’d meant, but lacked the context to understand Yorozu’s absence. 

“Oh you don’t know?” Yuki asked, a little surprised, as if you were missing out on common knowledge. “She skipped town after high school. Ran away in the middle of the night, just left some dumb note for her parents about how she was gonna go be a star. No one’s heard from her since.” 

“Oh.”

You weren’t sure what else to say, mainly because you were trying to stop a massive grin from creeping across your face.

“Uro was devastated, all this crying and screaming about how Yorozu wouldn’t just ditch her like that. Doesn’t seem all that surprising to me though,” she said with a shrug. “Yorozu’s always been a bitch.” 

You laughed softly, trying not to look too overjoyed that you wouldn’t have to worry about running into her ever again. It was a little spiteful, but a big part of you hoped that she never managed to become a star. In your mind she’d ended up in some nasty crack den somewhere before she even made it halfway to Hollywood. 

Although, considering how panicky most people in the town had been following Ryu’s death, you were surprised that a simple note had been a valid enough explanation. “Did her parents not search for her?” 

“Nah, Uro kicked up a whole fuss reporting her as a missing person and the police got involved, but Yorozu’s parents basically shot it all down. Apparently, she’d spouted off about this plan non-stop, so they told Uro to just let it go. Police didn’t find any signs of foul play.” 

You hummed, eyes flicking back over to Sukuna for a moment, breath knocked from your lungs at the intensity with which his red eyes were fixed on you, crimson irises glowing in the light of the fire. You wondered if he was relieved that Yorozu was gone - she’d always stuck to him like glue no matter how hard he pushed her away. 

The ugly thought jumped into your mind that you’d actually be happy if Yorozu had met the same fate as Ryu. She wasn’t the worst person to be wiped from the world. Not that you’d ever say such a thing aloud. 

Considering some of the things Sukuna had said to her, you wouldn’t be surprised if he felt the same. 

“Anyway, good riddance. Things have been nicer without her around,” Yuki said easily, taking a long sip of her drink. 

“Yeah.” Your response was absent-minded, thoughts already drifting back to Sukuna - transfixed by the way that his thighs were spread so easily on the bench that he occupied, tattooed biceps on display in that blank tank that clung to him so perfectly. You should really stop staring, stop inviting any opportunity for interaction, but your body had always been a traitor when it came to him. 

You’d hoped that your friends would draw your attention back to them. Shoko and Utahime had joined you, sitting together on their own bench and giggling away at something that Mei had said. Surrounded by people, it was harder to get caught up in that magnetic pull that Sukuna seemed to command over you. 

And yet, as there was a call to play Spin the Bottle inside, one that your friends all jumped at, you found yourself declining. You had a boyfriend - that was the excuse that you gave, claiming that he wouldn’t like you kissing some other guy, and you’d rather stay out here in the fresh air anyway. 

They’d tried to convince you for a few minutes before conceding, leaving you sitting on the crate, drink in hand, left practically alone. Almost everyone that had been sitting around the fire had gone inside, leaving only a handful of people dotted around. Most of them were strangers to you. 

Except for one. 

He wasted no time sidling up to you, taking a seat next to you on your little crate without so much as asking if it was okay. 

“Looking kinda lonely over here.” His voice was deep, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand came to rest on the crate behind you, no doubt under the guise of maintaining balance, but you could feel the slight brush of his skin against your back. 

You shrugged as nonchalantly as you could, pretending your heart wasn’t racing. “I’m doing just fine.” 

“Yeah? It's funny, the way you were looking at me made it seem like you wanted me to come over.” 

You opened your mouth to bite back, to say that you wanted no such thing, but it would be a lie. You did want him to come over, you wanted him next to you, craved his attention. Even though you knew you shouldn’t, knew that anything with him would be built on bloodied foundations, it didn’t stop the desire. 

If you were more religious, you might’ve considered Sukuna to be the devil himself - a manifestation of all your deepest temptations, built solely from sin. As such, you really shouldn’t keep giving into him. 

And you were trying your best, really. 

“You look good.” The compliment was easy, straightforward. It shouldn’t have made you flush as deeply as you did. 

For a second, you almost forgot yourself, the response of so do you lingering on the tip of your tongue, only for you to force it back down your throat. 

Instead, you did the responsible thing. “I- uh- have a boyfriend.” 

The glimmer in his eyes dulled a little, smile faltering for such a miniscule second that you weren’t even sure it had happened at all. “A boyfriend?” 

Boyfriend wasn’t really the right word, not from your side of things at least, but you were certain that if you referred to Kashimo as a situationship, Sukuna would disregard it as a whole. As far as he was concerned, if there was no actual relationship then you were fair game. In the case of Ryu, even that hadn’t stopped his advances. 

Though he’d at least been more subtle, more careful, waiting for the perfect moment. 

“Yeah, a boyfriend,” the words felt foreign in your mouth, too heavy, your heart unmoving for Kashimo in the way that it should be. Half of you even considered calling the whole thing quits and crawling onto Sukuna’s lap there and then. 

But that wouldn’t be fair - not when Kashimo had been there for you unwaveringly. He was a good guy, the type of guy who’d take you out on cute little dates, supported you when your anxiety popped up from time to time, understood your trauma from Ryu’s death. He’d been patient around stuff like sex, taking things slow, always listening to whatever you wanted. 

He was a good guy. 

You knew that he wanted to be your boyfriend. You were the one standing in the way of any serious commitment. That had been the case with any man you’d met in the last four years, and you’d convinced yourself that it was a trauma response, that you were afraid of what had happened to Ryu happening to any other boyfriend you had. 

In the depth of your soul you knew that wasn’t really the case. 

The reality was, you compared every man that you met to Sukuna, and always found that they came up short. They didn’t ignite that fiery lust within your chest, didn’t fuck you like he did, didn’t make you feel giddy like he did. 

“You sound enthralled by him.” Sukuna said, sarcasm heavy in his tone. 

“I- it's steady.” The defence was pathetic and you both knew it. 

It was steady, it was nice, safe. He was the type of guy who had a good job, who you could bring home to meet your parents without fear of what they might think. 

Even if Sukuna did work for your dad, if you were to bring him home, you were certain your parents would hate it. They didn’t want you with someone like him, someone tough and volatile, someone who pushed you to cheat on your boyfriend.

They wanted you to be with someone like Kashimo. He was the exact type of guy that you should’ve wanted for yourself. 

And yet there you were, right at Sukuna’s side, not quite shutting him down despite having plenty of reasons to. 

“Sounds like he isn’t keeping you interested. I’m sure you wouldn’t run into that problem if you were with me,” Sukuna purred, a confident grin stretching across his handsome face.

Your eyes widened at how straightforward he was with his words, willing to lay out his intentions on the line. It was as though he’d spent a great deal of time considering what he’d missed out on all those years ago, and didn’t want to lose it again. 

And you had to fight the impulse to nod your head and agree, because you were certain that you wouldn’t run into that problem if you were with him. But unfortunately that wasn’t all that dictated a relationship. And what kept you from Sukuna wasn’t really Kashimo - you were just using your current situationship as a convenient excuse. 

“No.” You said with a shake of the head, turning him down despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. “We killed someone, Sukuna. We don’t get to be together.” 

He rolled his eyes, clearly displeased by your dramatic wording. “We didn’t kill anyone. Ryu would’ve died whether we were fucking in that bathroom or not. Trust me.” 

It was probably true, you’d always known in your heart that it was probably true. Your therapist had made it abundantly clear to you that you should not be held responsible for his death. You’d already punished yourself plenty, that was what she’d said, at some point you had to forgive yourself. 

And yet it felt impossible to fully push that feeling off your chest. 

“I betrayed his trust. I don’t get to ride off into the sunset with the man I was cheating with while he’s laying six feet underground. That’s my punishment.” 

Sukuna was staring at you like you were stupid, red eyes narrowed in disappointment. “Punishment from who? At this point you’re just punishing yourself, and me.” The hand he had positioned behind you moved, wrapping around your waist carefully. It was a test, to see if you’d push him away. 

You didn’t. 

“He was a piece of shit, he cheated on you, baby. Gonna live in regret because of a guy like that? Not sure why you were even dating him. You could’ve been with me the whole time.” 

You nibbled on your lip, unhappy to hear such words coming from his mouth, trying to break down your walls. He said it like it had ever been that simple. You hadn’t understood the depth of Sukuna’s feelings before you’d gotten together with Ryu, and had assumed that all he’d really wanted was to play with you like he played with other girls. 

What Ryu had shown you was something real, tangible. He’d been straight forward in his affection, asked you to be his girlfriend without any doubt surrounding where you stood with him. It wasn’t the confusion that you felt with Sukuna, never quite sure if you were the object of his affection or his prey. 

“Maybe you should’ve learned how to use your words back then.” 

He grinned at you. “I really think that would’ve taken away some of the fun.” 

You rolled your eyes in disbelief. You certainly didn’t consider what had gone down between the two of you fun. You’d spent plenty of high school wondering, fantasising about Sukuna, wondering if his flirting was something legitimate. It had stressed you out to the point where your heart would go into overdrive whenever you’d see him, never quite sure where you stood. 

When Ryu had asked you out, after experiencing nothing but vague flirting from Sukuna, you’d figured you’d take the opportunity. Everyone else you knew had done stuff with guys and you didn’t want to be left behind, didn’t want to be played with by a guy who wasn’t really interested. 

Even having sex in the bathroom of that party wasn’t really fun, no matter how good it had felt. It was too corrupted by feelings of guilt for you to look back upon it fondly. Because even with your continuing lust for Sukuna, the emotion was never simple, always caught up with this big ball of insecurity and shame. 

He was staring at you, pressing on when you offered no response, not even a hint of a smile at his comment. “I’m using my words now,” he said with a sigh. “I missed you, I want you. Is that straightforward enough for you?” 

He leaned in closer to you, breath warm against your face. His arm tightened around your waist, and you could feel heat building between your thighs, memories of the feeling of his big hands gripping your hips all those years ago flooding your mind. 

“We can go inside and I can show you just how much I missed you, make you forget about all of that Ryu shit - help you remember that before that fucker died, you were thinking about breaking up with him and dating me.” 

That was true. You’d told him that the first time you’d fucked. Your fingers had been white with how tightly you were gripping the sink, breaths coming out in ragged gasps as you whined Sukuna’s name. Between thrusts you’d mumbled about how good he made you feel, how much bigger he was than Ryu, how you wished he was your boyfriend instead. 

Of course, with the discovery that followed, your priorities had changed - you’d grown too disgusted with yourself to follow through on any of that, keeping yourself as far away from Sukuna as you could to stop yourself from facing how awful you were. 

You still felt awful. But it was harder to shut him down when he was right next to you, his scent heavy in your nostrils. It was unfair how good he always smelt, how familiar. It had the power to draw you closer to him, eager to be wrapped in his scent. 

He must’ve felt you lean into him ever so slightly, because he took it as permission, free hand moving to your chin and tilting it up ever so slightly. Your skin tingled under his fingers, eyes widening as you met his gaze. 

“Such a pretty girl.” 

He leaned in, and for a moment you let him, his lips grazing yours before you found the sense to push him away. You weren’t sure if it was your ongoing guilt from the situation with Ryu or if it was out of loyalty to Kashimo, but you knew that doing anything with Sukuna wasn’t right. 

Not right now. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You reminded him finally, shuffling away from his arm. His face fell at being thwarted by that line for the second time that night. 

“Its not like that stopped you before.” 

Your mouth opened in shock, staring at him in disbelief. Even if he was right, the audacity to state that so plainly made you feel sick. How could he not feel bad about what had transpired? Could he not see how guilt-ridden you were over that one mistake? 

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever done,” you said, bitterly. “If I could go back and undo it, I would.”

You didn’t divulge the fact that you might’ve done some other things differently too - might’ve chosen Sukuna over your boyfriend in the first place, broken up with the guy when you first felt things getting stale. You’d strung him along because you were too scared to hurt his feelings, fucked Sukuna because you’d wanted him for months and couldn’t ignore you impulses any longer. 

It wasn’t surprising that Ryu had fucked Yorozu when you’d been so distant with him ahead of the incident, your mind too fixed on someone else. 

Because you were awful. 

Every choice you’d chosen had been the wrong one, and you weren’t going to let history repeat itself. Any chance for love with Sukuna had been thoroughly fucked up by the events of that fateful night, it would always be corrupted by it. 

If you chose him, you’d be living with your sin, affirming it to be correct. That just wasn’t possible. 

“Yeah?” He asked with a purr, seemingly unphased. “Because you’re looking at me like you’d crumble and let me fuck you in the bathroom again if I so much as touched you.” 

Your mouth opened to reject his words, to tell him that he was dead wrong. But that flutter of butterflies made itself known in your stomach and you knew that you were about thirty seconds of convincing away from folding. 

It was pathetic, you were so pathetic. 

You needed to leave. 

“Fuck you,” you just about managed to hiss, the weight of your words completely lost. You both knew there was no spite behind it, both knew that he was right. He hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted in high school, hadn’t had the chance to pull you into his grip. 

He wasn’t the type of man to fail twice. 

It was just a matter of time. 

next chapter

a/n: hope you enjoyed this first chapter! this one is very much a set up for the juicy stuff that's coming, I can't wait to share the next few chapters with you all because sukuna is both needy and unhinged (and you'll be getting his pov next chapter!)

thank you for the support, comments and reblogs are appreciated as always! <3

taglist (open): @indiewritesxoxo @alebrasil0101 @unikittylover57 @maomimii @xadenpoop @mxchiii @tinkspen @martianzmars @drasticallyinluv @grimm3r @choyuxx @janellawliet @nanamigirl4ever @actuallynarii @aiive @chloe022r @targaryenposts @erasersslut @loulasav @natsolox @kenstarsworld @elviqss @blu3berryies @cupidstrace @ksjtozaki @feyrinnn @heartless-rythm @beaniesayshi @shazzer29 @mortallyshadysoul @neverlandqueen36 @sweethoneycream @mikkmmmii @sikurgvx @8nitxe @lexispeak @inmywhitegown @unlimited-impressions @absolutelycaffeinateddevil @paulineeo @onlykuna @jjkfannn34 @queendom-of-yuki @blinmkk @emmaiscool22 @angelbabyy111 @moonsquid49 @0imliterallybatman @crunchycathy @yailuxe 

It’s… you.

And Sukuna.

And Yuji.

All holding hands.

There’s a big, messy red heart drawn over all three of you.

You stare at it.

“…Yuji…”

“I made it,” he says quickly. “So you won’t be mad anymore.”

Your chest tightens.

“I’m not mad at you,” you say gently.

“I know,” he nods. “You’re mad at him.”

A pause.

“…yeah.”

Yuji looks over his shoulder, like he’s checking for something, then leans in closer to you and whispers-

“He’s really sad.”

You almost scoff. Almost.

But Yuji keeps going.

“He was walking around and being all grumpy and didn’t even yell at me when I spilled juice,” he says, eyes wide like that’s the ultimate proof. “That means he’s super sad.”

Your lips twitch.

“…did he send you here?”

Yuji hesitates.

“…no,” he says. Then quieter, “I just… heard him talking.”

Your heart dips a little.

“What was he saying?”

Yuji scrunches his face, trying to remember.

“Um… he said… ‘she’s being stupid,’” he starts, and you immediately roll your eyes-

but then he continues-

“…and then he said ‘I messed up.’”

You still.

Yuji looks up at you, hopeful.

“And then he said he didn’t know how to fix it,” he adds softly. “So I’m fixing it.”

That hits harder than you expect.

You look back down at the drawing in your hands, tracing the uneven lines of the three of you.

“…he’s bad at apologizing,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Yuji nods seriously. “He’s bad at a lot of things.”

You laugh a little at that.

Silence settles for a second.

Then Yuji gently pushes the drawing closer into your lap.

“So you forgive him now?”

You hesitate.

“…I don’t know.”

His face drops just a little.

“…okay,” he says, but he doesn’t move away.

Instead, he climbs right into your lap like he belongs there, arms wrapping around your middle in a tight little hug.

“He really likes you,” he mumbles into your shirt.

Your breath catches.

“I know he’s mean,” Yuji continues, completely unfiltered, “but he only does that when he’s scared or dumb.”

You choke out a laugh.

“Or both,” he adds helpfully.

“…that sounds about right.”

Yuji pulls back just enough to look at you.

“So… you don’t have to forgive him a lot,” he negotiates, very serious again. “Just a little bit. Like this much.”

He pinches his fingers together, showing the tiniest gap.

You stare at him.

God.

You sigh, your anger melting in slow, helpless pieces.

“…fine,” you mumble. “A little bit.”

Yuji gasps like you just granted a miracle.

“Really?!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you smile, brushing his hair back. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

Yuji grins.

“…too late.”

The door behind you creaks again.

You turn-

And there he is.

Sukuna.

Leaning against the frame like he hasn’t moved in ages, arms crossed, trying to look unaffected, but his eyes give him away immediately.

Relieved.

Careful.

Hopeful, even.

“…you sent a five-year-old to do your job?” you raise a brow.

“I didn’t send him,” Sukuna mutters. “He snuck out.”

Yuji beams proudly.

“I fixed it.”

Sukuna huffs, pushing off the wall, walking in slowly.

“…did you?” he mutters, eyes flicking to you.

You hold his gaze for a second longer than you should.

“…a little bit,” you say.

He exhales quietly. Shoulders dropping just slightly.

“…good enough.”

Yuji looks between you both, then claps his hands.

“Okay! Hug now.”

You and Sukuna both freeze.

“…no,” Sukuna says immediately.

“Do it,” Yuji insists.

“No.”

“Do it.”

You snort.

Sukuna glares at you like this is somehow your fault.

Yuji grabs your hand. Then Sukuna’s.

And before either of you can protest-

he shoves them together.

Your fingers brush Sukuna’s.

He doesn’t pull away.

“…there,” Yuji says, satisfied. “Fixed.”

You glance up at Sukuna.

He’s already looking at you.

“…you still mad?” he mutters.

“…a little.”

“…fair.”

A pause.

“…I messed up,” he adds, quieter this time. Real this time.

Your grip on his hand tightens just a little.

“…yeah. You did.”

Another pause.

“…I’ll do better,” he says.

You study him.

Then sigh.

“…okay.”

Yuji cheers like someone just won a championship, throwing his arms around both of you at once.

“GROUP HUG.”

Sukuna groans.

You laugh, cheeks turning a faint pink when you feel Sukuna pressing a kiss to your forehead.

A more toughened person might’ve been able to accept the situation for what it was, pick themselves up and dust themselves off before moving on with what needed to be done. It was what you’d done in the past when confronted with obstacles like Kenjaku. It had never been easy, but you’d pushed your emotions to the side and been the hero that the city needed you to be. 

Doing so where it came to Sukuna felt like a step too far. He wasn’t like Kenjaku - a man who had inspired nothing but your anger. Instead he’d teased out a side of you that you’d believed had been shut off for good, seen you in a state of vulnerability that no one else had. How were you meant to disconnect yourself from the way he made you feel? 

Because even though you hated him, even though he’d genuinely humiliated you to the highest degree, there was no stopping the deep desire in your heart that told you how much you loved him. 

How pathetic. 

It was that searing love that kept you on the floor of his apartment for a whole hour before you finally found it in you to break your bindings and stand up, after a long internal debate over whether you really wanted to bother facing him at all. 

But what kind of magical girl would you be if you didn’t?

He was raining destruction down on the city that you’d sworn to protect, there was no option but to put him down. It was the right thing for the people suffering in the streets below, and perhaps more importantly, it was the right thing for you. He’d reduced you down to nothing, and you couldn’t let him get away with that. 

Even if your own emotions couldn’t seem to get a handle on that idea in their current tumultuous state. 

In an effort to put off the task at hand for as long as possible, once you were free of your bindings you took the opportunity to snoop around his apartment. Perhaps you could uncover some hidden weakness or a detailed step-by-step plan to tell you what he was going to do next.

You uncovered nothing of the sort, but you weren’t really sure what to think of what you did find.

There was a picture of you, of Shining Star, pinned on his bedroom wall - it was laden with holes and still had a few darts stuck in it. It struck you as very strange to have a picture of someone you hated hanging up in your bedroom, especially considering that its positioning meant the image was the last thing he would see before sleeping each night. 

But it was pointless to read into that too much. 

A simple bit of digging around in his room had you discovering the sex tape he was referring to, on a literal tape for some reason, with your name scrawled along the side in his oddly pretty writing. What was more horrifying was the fact that it was wrapped up in a pair of your used panties, a revelation that had you reeling. 

There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was doing this all for the point of exposing you publicly - your panties would be useless for such a task. If he didn’t care about you, it was unclear why he would bother keeping such an item. Perhaps as a display of sexual domination over you, playing out his own little power fantasy to demean you privately?  

It certainly made you feel small. 

Even if he hadn’t done everything else, even if he’d been nothing but a model boyfriend with this being the single exception, finding out that he stole your underwear and recorded secret videos of you would’ve been a major red flag. 

How could you be so stupid as to let him do any of this to you? 

It was total humiliation, a true destruction of your very being. All you’d wanted was to be loved, to have something genuinely good happen to you for once in your miserable life. Were you too naive to have believed that good thing could’ve been Sukuna? 

It was if life itself was laughing at you for having the audacity to dream. You’d already had your miracle, who were to ask for anything more? 

Deciding that there was no point in torturing yourself further by lingering in Sukuna’s apartment, you took a couple of minutes to steel yourself before heading down in the elevator and out into the hellscape that your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, had turned Tokyo into. 

The scene was far more catastrophic in scope than anything you’d seen when it was Kenjaku at the wheel. The storm was raging - rain and wind pelting you the moment you stepped out of the apartment building. You could hear a distant rumbling, which you hoped was thunder rather than some gargantuan monster hidden just out of sight. 

Slipping on your amulet, there was a sense of safety and security that flowed through you as you took on your alternate form. Usually it felt uncomfortable to be her, like wearing another person’s skin. Today you wanted to be anyone but yourself, so the transformation felt like wrapping a comfort blanket around yourself, protecting the broken form of the real you. 

You couldn’t do this, but Shining Star could. She was always there to pick up the slack wherever you faltered. 

The first task on your mind was figuring out where Sukuna was. As long as he was still standing, he could likely conjure up monsters until the end of time. That meant that it would be pointless to start eliminating those before dealing with him - you had to stem the bleeding ahead of anything else. 

Finding him didn’t seem like it would pose an issue. He hadn’t exactly hidden himself from you by any means, practically broadcasting his malicious aura from halfway across the city. All you had to do was follow the overwhelming pressure that grew with each step, restricting the air in your lungs, causing your head to throb. 

Clearly, he wanted you to find him. His intent had always been a final duel, a showdown between the two of you in your most powerful forms. Perhaps he had some sense of honor that stayed his hand back in his apartment, unwilling to kill you in your human body. Or maybe this was just an extra layer where it came to humiliating you - demonstrating your weakness to the world by defeating you even as a magical girl. 

His intent didn’t really matter now. There was no point in speculating. 

While locating him didn’t pose much of an issue for you, actually reaching him was another story entirely. The long trek to his chosen vantage point in Shinjuku was something that you could only describe as deeply harrowing. You’d seen monsters before, that was nothing new - you’d even witnessed death before, but never on the scale that you encountered that day. 

It looked like some scene out of an apocalypse movie, with bodies and blood strewn across the street, frightened wails coming from every direction, too many for you to ever attend to each one. Not that you didn’t do your utmost best - making short work of every monster placed in your path, saving any civilian that you happened to stumble across. 

There was no thanks in the eyes of those that you saved, instead you were met with glints of hurt and betrayal, a silent question asking why you hadn’t stopped this before it had even begun, a hatred that you were sure you were deserving of. 

Everyone who had died in this attack had died because of you, because of your stupidity, your pathetic desire to be loved.

You weren’t sure what you’d do after you’d taken down Sukuna, but you knew that the people of this city, of the world, would never trust Shining Star ever again. Perhaps it was just better that you disappear entirely, take the chance to part from this earth at the same time as your enemy. 

Dying together would be something of a poetic end, ridding the planet of two people who had cursed them. 

It wasn’t a decision that you’d made fully, even by the time you finally caught up with Sukuna. 

He sat alone atop a building, waiting patiently for your arrival, fixing you with that intimidating red gaze as you appeared on the roof before him. Your chest was heaving from the effort that you’d exerted crossing the city to reach him, your hands and arms covered in blood - be it from monsters or civilians, you weren’t really sure. 

You wondered if his chosen location was selected for a reason. Perhaps a place of significance to him? Or, more likely, somewhere annoyingly far from his apartment, forcing you to face down the twelve labours of Hercules before reaching him. He probably wanted you tired, unwilling to take any chances where it came to you defeating him. 

Unfortunately, you wouldn’t go down so easily. 

“You took longer than I thought you would. Trouble undoing the rope?” He asked. 

His stance was annoyingly relaxed, sitting cross-legged on the hard concrete. Two hands were resting in his lap, one was leaning against his chin, whilst the other was twirling a knife dexterously between fingers. 

Taking note of the weapon, you observed the liquidy sheen that seemed to cover the sharp blade. It was likely a poison, perhaps the same one that he’d used on you earlier in the day. As a magical girl, you were largely impervious to damage whilst in this form, but you weren’t safe from everything. 

Kenjaku had been the one to discover that - trying all kinds of things before he finally developed the formula that weakened Yuki enough for him to finally strike a killing blow. He obviously hadn’t expected it to work at the time, considering that he only had one vial of the poison for use. If he'd had more you probably would’ve died back then. 

Sukuna must’ve discovered the same poison all these years later. Perhaps he’d built upon Kenjaku’s work and built something even more potent - you wouldn’t be surprised since the two had obviously known each other. 

Either way, the message was clear enough - you couldn’t allow your skin to get even lightly scraped by that knife, or it could be game over. 

“I was busy trying to save people.” You lied, not especially eager for him to know that a great deal of your time had been spent sobbing on his floor. 

He stood up slowly, rising to his full height. You tried desperately to calm your beating heart, which was hammering against your ribcage at the realisation of just how large he was. You liked to think that the reaction came from a place of terror rather than a fleeting, invasive thought about how genuinely beautiful he was. 

Sauntering over to the edge of the building, he seemed to survey the scene below for a few seconds before turning back to you skeptically. “That’s funny - it sure doesn’t look like you saved anyone.” 

The humor in his tone had you seeing red, and for that reason you didn’t bother dignifying his jab with any sort of a response. Flinging yourself forward, your sword was at his throat in an instant, leaving a shallow cut on his tanned skin which might’ve provided a killing blow if not for the way that one of his hands grabbed your arm, flinging you back hard across the floor.

“So eager.” 

He moved towards you slowly, picking at his nails like he had all the time in the world. Slowly, you pushed yourself up to sitting, watching him carefully for any hints of a surprise attack. He stopped mere meters before you, crouching down so the two of you were at eye level. 

It was only then that his grin faltered. 

“You’ve been crying,” he remarked, flatly. 

Lips parting in disbelief, you found yourself frozen at his comment. You’d assumed that there’d be some sort of follow up, some mocking quip about how pathetic you were to have fallen for something so false. And yet, that seemed to be his entire statement, a simple observation that confused you more than you’d like to admit to. 

“Obviously?” You murmured, dumbfounded. 

You were sure that your eyes were desperately red and puffy, it wasn’t like you’d made any real effort to obscure the fact - did he think that you’d be all sunshine and rainbows after what he’d just pulled? He’d made it clear that his goal was to destroy you, and yet he seemed confused that he’d succeeded. 

“Why?” He asked. “Because you feel humiliated?”

You blinked a couple of times, finding it hard to believe that he was genuinely so dense as to not understand the origin of your distress. 

“Because I’m heartbroken.” You said finally, spelling it out for him, hating the way your voice cracked under the pressure. For a few seconds you assumed that this was some new method of torture that he’d come up with, forcing you to admit your feelings to him even after all the suffering he’d caused. 

That thought was instantly dispelled by his reaction.

What had been completely obvious to you apparently wasn’t to him, based on the sour look of sheer disbelief that morphed across his handsome face at your words. “Heart-broken?” He repeated your words, his tone almost bitter. “Why?” 

“Don’t you think we’ve been over this already?” You mumbled. 

In your mind, the conversation you’d held in his apartment made your feelings clear enough - you’d been prepared to give up your life if it would ease his pain, you’d told him that you loved him. Did he think your feelings had changed in the hours that had elapsed since then? 

Did he think you’d be less heart-broken just because your relationship had been proven as a farce? 

Even if it was false to him, everything had been real to you. The humiliation that he’d intended for you - exposing you and stealing your necklace, that had hurt. But that pain was nothing compared to the sheer agony of your heart shattering into pieces, your desire for him never faltering despite it all. 

“I told you nothing was real,” he sneered. “It's pointless for your heart to be broken. All you should be feeling is rage and humiliation and then despair at the realisation that someone like me will take your life away. Stop being stupid.” 

“It's pointless…” You echoed, unable to hold back a disbelieving smile. “I guess that fixes how I feel then, huh?” 

“You don’t feel anything for me. I’m your enemy. Stop trying to manipulate me.” 

The look on his face was one of pure scorn. A laugh bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it, giggling raucously at the insinuation that your feelings were an act of manipulation, like you weren’t falling apart right now. You had no crocodile tears to cry, and if you could force yourself to hate Sukuna and cast aside all feelings for him - you would.

That would make your job much easier. 

“And to think that you believe I’m the stupid one here,” you murmured. You’d already made it clear back in his apartment that if he felt anything for you, it was not born from manipulation. Not that he’d ever be mature enough to understand such a thing. “But what’s the point in talking now? You’ve made your intentions clear, let's put an end to this.” 

There was a glimmer of hesitance in Sukuna’s gaze, recoiling ever so slightly at the flippant manner at which you’d dismissed him. You wondered if he’d expected more conversation, a similar situation to what had gone down in his apartment, in which the two of you danced around genuine violence but never really came to engage in it. 

You weren’t going to waste your time on something like that any longer. Being near him was agony for you, and you couldn’t allow any hope to fester in your mind. If you allowed yourself the belief that something could be recovered from the ashes of your relationship you’d know that you were truly lost. 

This had to end. 

He wanted a showdown with Shining Star, and that was what he was going to get. There’d be no more conversation between the two of you. By the time your fight had been resolved, one of you would be dead. 

To say that the fight between the two of you was messy would be something of an understatement. 

Sukuna’s skill far surpassed that of anyone else that you’d fought. Monsters tended to be predictable, and the only strong villain you’d battled with was Kenjaku. In comparison to the King of Curses, Kenjaku seemed amateur. 

He was painfully fast, slashing through the air with ease in an attempt to slice you to ribbons. You were lucky that your magical girl form kept you impervious to damage, or you were sure that he would’ve killed you moments after starting your combat. 

The two of you traded endless blows, finding many instances in which your blade scraped across the surface of Sukuna’s skin only to strike just short of a lethal target. Often, one of you would manage to pin down the other only for the victim to wriggle free at the last second, avoiding what would be certain death. 

At some point, in one of those moments where he had you beneath him, Sukuna managed to lightly nick you with his blade before you broke free of his grip. It wasn’t a high enough dose to bring you to your knees completely, but you could feel your physical resistance faltering, your strength waning ever so slightly. 

It was around that time that you were certain you were going to lose, your resolve faltering as he knocked you back to the ground, slashing a deep cut across your forehead before striking you hard across the face. He was saying something about how much he despised you, but you couldn’t quite make it out over the ringing in your ears. 

As your vision blurred, you stared up at him and wondered how this could be the same man that had held you so tenderly once. 

Why did you still yearn for him to hold you tenderly again? 

You wanted to give in, wanted to give up. It would be so easy to just close your eyes and let him beat you to death. You were just so tired, and you didn’t want to fight him. You’d never have to face any pain again if you just let it happen, right now. 

But you couldn’t. 

At least, Shining Star couldn’t.

You had a duty to fulfill. Those poor civilians below were counting on you to win, regardless of how you felt about your adversary. You had to keep going, no matter what. 

So, against all odds you summoned the strength to shove him off you, to keep on fighting him until the very bitter end regardless of your aching heart. 

The contract was very clear. 

It was your duty to kill him. 

And when the fog of your battle finally cleared, you were the one who emerged victorious. Your blade embedded through two of his hands, pinning them down above his head. You were sitting atop his chest, knees digging into his other two arms, keeping them immobilised at his side. Four red eyes were fixed on you, irises swirling with a concoction of fear and hatred. 

If this were Kenjaku, if this were anyone but Sukuna, you would’ve swiftly removed your blade from its current position and used it to remove his head. It would’ve been a clean, easy victory - one that allowed you to close the book on this saga and move on. You could defeat the rest of the monsters and clean up the city, just like your contract dictated. 

Unfortunately, you were too far gone in your own rage and sorrow to act in such a measured manner. 

You struck him over and over again. Your fists rained down onto his face, bloodying it with each extra hit. You could barely see the impact that you were having through the blood marring your own face, dripping into your eyes and obscuring your vision. It was hard to tell how hard you were hitting, your body feeling heavy with each strike. 

You only realised that you were crying when your hands started to meet nothing but open air, your strength failing you as your fists came down to rest gently on the wide expanse of his chest. Open sobs left you, body shaking vigorously while Sukuna simply lay there beneath you, the proof of his survival evident in the way that his chest was rising and falling under your hands. 

There was a desire within you to stay in that moment forever, to just give up right there, sob and sob until Sukuna regained his strength and claimed victory for himself. 

And yet, that little voice in your head, the voice of your contract reminded you that you could do no such thing. This wasn’t a job that you could half finish - you had to make sure that the task was completed in its entirety. If you wanted to cry, you could do it later.

Rubbing blood and tears from your eyes, you observed Sukuna below you, your heart clenching involuntarily at the gruesome sight laid out before you. 

His face was a total mess - his nose broken and bleeding, his lip busted open, eyes swollen and bruised. Even so, he was still conscious, red eyes staring evenly back at you, waiting to see what you’d do. You could see a hint of horror in his gaze, but you knew he was resigned to his fate all the same. 

“Go on then, do it.” His voice was raspy. “You know you want to.” 

It would prove his point in a way, you supposed. He’d said that you’d put him down just like you put down Kenjaku. Despite the circumstances being entirely different, he likely still saw that as a moral win - proof that he was always right about Shining Star being rotten to the core. 

Slowly, you withdrew your sword from his pinned hands, watching the way his limbs sagged the moment the weapon was freed from them. Your sword was the ultimate foil to all things evil, poisonous to any monster that it might strike. He wouldn’t be capable of moving his arms for a while. You said nothing as you raised the blade up, hands shaking from the effort of lining it up with his heart. 

Hesitation stayed your hand, heart clenching at the sight of his damaged face, at the mixture of fear and resignation flickering in his four crimson eyes. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t sway you. He was evil incarnate, he’d ruined your whole life, he deserved to die. Your contract dictated that he needed to die. 

But every time you tried to move your blade, you found yourself overcome by memories of the last couple of months. His hand brushing against yours, dinners on the sofa in your apartment, midnight outings to the convenience store, his body on top of yours as you moved together between your sheets.

The feeling of him pulling you closer at night even when he thought you were asleep.

Bile built up in your throat, some external force egging you on to strike even against your own will. None of those memories mattered more than your duty. They couldn’t matter. He’d said it himself, he didn’t care. You had to do this, had to kill him, there was no other choice, you had to-

Driving the blade downwards, Sukuna braced himself for the impact, eyelashes fluttering as he shut his crimson eyes. 

The impact never came. 

Your blade struck the floor beside his head hard, a cry of pure frustration falling from your lips as you proceeded to fling the sword as far from you as it would go. It clattered across the concrete obnoxiously before the world fell silent. Sukuna’s eyes opened once more, narrowing in confusion at the sight of you fumbling with your amulet, pulling it off and returning to your human form. 

“I can’t,” you said simply. “I just…can’t.” 

You could hardly look at him, knowing that only pain would await you. So instead you clambered to your feet, turning away from him in an effort to conceal the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks at the thought of all you were about to lose. 

“Fuck,” you hissed. 

What you were doing right now was a betrayal, the complete antithesis of what the contract required from you. The wording was explicit in your duty: when faced with a supernatural monster who poses a threat to society, you must put them down. And yet, here you were, walking away from a man who fit the description perfectly. 

All because your weak little heart couldn’t face the idea of destroying someone who had held you so tenderly. 

He’d killed people, and if you didn’t destroy him more people would die. And yet, for the first time in your life, you couldn’t find it in you to let that realisation rally you. You’d spent years protecting and saving, an endless life of trying desperately to be what this nation needed, with all of the pressure on your shoulders alone. 

You just couldn’t do it any more. 

The mess that Sukuna had caused was repulsive to you, but there was no will left in your broken body to get stuck in and clean it up. 

Why did the responsibility always have to fall to you? 

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on you for some time, with Sukuna’s betrayal acting as the final nail in the coffin. You simply couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t live your life like this any more. 

You couldn’t kill him. 

Even if that decision would ultimately kill you. 

“Please, just go and live a better life.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. “You’ll never see me again so just- lay your monsters to rest and forget your hatred. Don’t throw away your existence to bitterness.” 

Taking a deep breath, you took one last glance at him. He was staring back at you like a deer caught in headlights, his red eyes wide with confusion and something akin to regret. Your chest seized, fighting the urge to walk over to him and tend to his wounds. All it would do was prolong the pain. 

There was no going back, no pretending that what had transpired wasn’t reality. 

Even if you didn’t have the courage to kill him, you could never see him again. This was the end one way or another. 

And with a deep breath you turned your back to him and left. 

—

Sukuna’s red eyes were trained on the ceiling above him, light streaming in through the large windows of his bedroom. He hadn’t been to work in months, claiming to Gojo that he’d been badly injured in the apocalypse that had plagued the city nearly half a year ago. 

It wasn’t technically a lie, you had severely injured him. Gojo certainly didn’t need to know the details of all that though. 

Since the incident, Sukuna had largely become a shut-in, rarely leaving his apartment for any reason outside of Uraume forcing him on regular mental health walks. He’d spend almost all day in bed, staring listlessly up at the ceiling, wishing that things had gone down differently. 

You were right, after all. 

He’d been stupid, he’d been so focussed on the hatred that had plagued him his whole life that he couldn’t see that the peace he’d been seeking had been right in front of him this whole time. In the short months that you’d spent together, you’d given him everything he could’ve possibly wanted, the acceptance that he’d always desired. 

And he threw it all away thanks to his own pride - his own curse.  

He felt more hollow now than he ever had, a gaping cavern in the place where his heart should’ve been. It was a gap that you’d been filling for longer than he’d realised, and now that you were gone, he wasn’t sure how to cope. 

He wished he could’ve even kept you as an enemy, but you didn’t even allow him that. You were simply…gone. 

It was humiliating how much time he spent lamenting over you, scrolling through pictures in his phone of the two of you looking happy together, watching the video he’d recorded of the two of you having sex, even though he knew it was gross to do so. He didn’t care, he’d do anything to get a hit of you. 

You’d been gentle with him until the very end, and that was what stung him the most. After all the pain and hurt he’d intentionally inflicted on you, you’d still loved him, still pitied him. When given the chance to kill him you’d shown him mercy, chosen his life over the whole city, decided that his existence was worth it. A mercy that he knew wouldn’t have shown you if your roles were reversed. 

You’d looked at him in his rawest form and accepted him. 

And he threw it all away. 

Now there was no way for him to even know if you were still alive. 

He knew for sure that you weren’t in Tokyo. The media had been reporting non-stop on the mystery surrounding what had happened to Shining Star, with the nation practically on a manhunt for the real you in those first few months following your disappearance. The search had only started to die down recently, with the assumption being that you had died in the villain attack in your valiant attempt to save the city. 

Technically, Sukuna had been the one to save the city, or at least, he was the one to revert it back to its prior state, but no one would ever know that. He was more than happy for the world to believe that it was all thanks to you. He supposed it was, in part. His loss to you, coupled with your parting words, had moved him in a manner he was almost loathed to admit to. 

You’d seen straight through him, had understood him in a way that no one really had before. All he’d wanted was acceptance, to be truly seen, and you’d given him that tenfold. 

It was laughable really, the extent to which he’d ruined both his life and yours, all for nothing. He’d lived with shame his whole life, but the guilt of losing you weighed on his shoulders heavier than any sin he’d ever committed. 

“I think I’ve found her.” Uraume’s voice was gentle, floating through the closed door of his bedroom.

His servant had learned the hard way that Sukuna didn’t want anyone in his direct space right now, almost cutting Uraume’s head off the last time they nonchalantly entered his room. It was humiliating for someone to walk in on him crying while he stared at a photo of you, after all. 

“Are you sure this time?” He called back, not eager to get his hopes up. 

This wasn’t the first time his servant had thought they’d found you. It was very disappointing the first time, a month after your disappearance, when he’d excitedly shown up to a small island in Okinawa in hopes of finding you, only to discover that the person Uraume had located was someone else entirely. 

Uraume hesitated for a second before speaking, as if doing a double check of the image they were looking at.

“Almost certain.”

Mere hours later, Sukuna found himself on the way up to Hokkaido, taking the plane to Sapporo before renting a car and driving off into the snowy wilderness. He’d shaved and cut his hair, making an effort to look like he hadn’t spent the last few months lounging around in his underwear sinking into a desperately deep depression. 

The photo that Uraume had showed him was unmistakably you. 

Regardless of the disguise that you had on - the big wooly hat and red scarf to conceal the lower half of your face, he could still tell it was you. Your eyes were so distinctive to him, he’d spent so long gazing into them, wishing that you’d look at him once more. 

The picture had been taken from CCTV footage in a small village nestled among mountains in the northern part of the island. It wasn’t hard for him and Uraume to narrow down your location from there. Uraume had always been particularly good at this sort of work - it was how they discovered your secret identity in the first place. This time was no different. 

By the time Sukuna arrived at the address that Uraume had given him, it was late at night. Since your lodge was located in the forest, far from any other houses, he decided to ditch his car about a mile down the road, eager to avoid you becoming notified of his imminent arrival. Trekking through the light snow, an early sign of the turning season, he considered what he wanted to say to you. 

He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this, what it was that he stood to gain. All he knew was that he needed to see you, needed to ease his bleeding heart. 

His confusion around what he actually wanted meant that your reunion didn’t get off to the best of starts. Primarily, because instead of ringing the doorbell like a normal person, Sukuna broke in through your window in the middle of the night. 

The reason for that? He wasn’t really sure. He was afraid that any other attempt at engagement would have you fleeing from him immediately. It was from that line of thinking that his next blunder was born, because instead of just waking you up, he climbed on top of you and pinned you down beneath him to ensure that you couldn’t escape. 

“Still have the audacity to break into my house after all this time?”

Sukuna froze at the sound of your croaky voice, eyelashes fluttering as you stared up at him calmly. He couldn’t feel any real resistance in your body beneath him, there was no attempt to push him off of you like he would've expected. 

There was only a sad resignation in your eyes while you awaited your fate, whatever he should choose it to be. 

“What do you want this time?” You asked quietly, pushing on following his silence. “If you’ve come here to play with me some more, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. I barely have the strength to walk anymore, let alone fight you.” 

With his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, he studied your face. You looked painfully gaunt, with your skin stretched thin over your cheekbones, your eyes sunken. Beneath his body, you felt impossibly small. You’d always been smaller than him, even in the human form he was currently donning, but you’d never been this tiny. 

Now you just felt frail. 

“What- what’s wrong with you?” 

The question probably came across ruder than he intended, too caught off guard to formulate his thoughts properly. He reached out and turned on the lamp at your bedside, allowing him to get a better look at you. His heart wrenched at how dull your gaze was, at the way you’d shrunken down to a fraction of yourself. 

“Cancer.” You answered simply, meeting his gaze. “So if you’re here to kill me, it's really been a waste of your time.” 

Sukuna felt like he’d been struck across the face.

“Cancer.” He said flatly. “That’s not fair, your miracle-” 

“My contract is gone, Sukuna. It has been since the day I left you on that roof. No more miracles for me.” There was a slight tremble to your lips, which you seemed to quickly get under control. It was evident that you were more affected by his presence, by this whole situation, than you were really willing to let on. 

“Your contract?” He echoed, slow, sticky horror rising in his throat. He didn’t know the intricacies of how you’d become Shining Star, only aware that it had something to do with the disappearance of your cancer as a teenager. 

It was becoming clear to him now. 

“You wanted Shining Star dead, and I gave you that. My contract was very clear. I have to put down any evil I’m aware of. When I walked away from you, made that final decision to abandon any intention of killing you, I broke the terms. I don’t get to keep the miracle.”

Your contract was nullified all because of the mercy that you demonstrated to him. The very contract that had guaranteed a miracle, a life for you, had unravelled and left you back where you were at sixteen. 

He could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air between the two of you, the insinuation that your current condition was his fault. Even if he hadn’t put you down with his own two hands, all of the blame for your death would lie on him. 

In a way, his plan had worked out exactly as he wanted it to. 

What a tragedy that was. 

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, red eyes widening at the way that you laughed underneath him, your whole body shaking. The laughter turned into coughs and all he could do was sit by and watch until you were ready to offer him a response. 

“You’re not sorry,” you said, finally. “It didn’t mean anything to you, remember? I thought I was manipulating you the whole time.” 

Making it abundantly clear that you hadn’t gotten over anything, you threw his words back at him. There was a sick part of him that almost liked it, because it meant that he still occupied your thoughts. You hadn’t gotten over him and moved on, a fear that had festered in his mind more than he’d like to admit. 

He really was twisted. 

To do all that he did, spend all that time hating you, only to come crawling back here like some sort of love-struck teenager. What could he honestly expect from you other than hatred? 

It was what he deserved. 

“Why are you here?” You continued. “I told you to go and live a better life. This isn’t-” 

“I can’t,” he interrupted. You seemed almost shocked at his admission, your gaze softening just a little. “All I’ve been able to think about since that day is you. You’re all I’ve thought about for a long time.” 

Your lips parted and closed, eyes growing misty as you took a deep breath, averting your gaze from him. “I fucking hate you.” Your voice was shaky. 

“I know, you should-” 

“No, you don’t know.” Your voice was outright trembling now. “I loved you, and even through all the shit I was prepared to give you a chance, and you turned around and set it meant nothing. Now here you are and it's just too late. Why couldn’t you have just been honest back then? Why couldn’t you just have admitted that you loved me too instead of going through with any of this?” 

“It wouldn't have made a difference. The whole thing was just pretend, you would’ve resented me anyway.” Sukuna wanted to reach out and wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks, stomach in turmoil as you poured your heart out to him. 

“I would’ve forgiven you!” You yelled, meeting his gaze once more, the distress clear in your lovely eyes. “I would’ve forgiven you.” You repeated quietly, as if asserting the point to yourself. 

There was a point that he could’ve turned back, but the two of you were light years past it. 

How cruel. 

“I did- I do love you.” He whispered, his gaze refusing to leave yours. Even with the excruciating sorrow that lined your face, he wouldn’t look away. “The months that we spent together were the happiest I’ve been. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it back then.” 

He sat back slightly, aware that pinning you down was a pointless and ill thought out decision. That didn’t mean he was willing to get up fully though, too desperate for some sort of contact with you after all this time. You still made no effort to push him away, but you did shift your hand up to wipe at your eyes. 

There was silence for a long time before you finally spoke. 

“You should really leave,” your voice was soft. 

He tried to ignore the dagger to his heart at your lack of response to his admission of love, wishing that you would’ve at least said that you still loved him too, given him something to cling onto, a hope that something was still there between you. 

Although, what did it matter? You’d be dead soon either way. No matter what, he wouldn’t get to keep you.

“Do you have someone looking after you?” He asked. 

“Sukuna-” 

“Do you?” 

“No.” 

“Then let me stay, let me make amends.” His hope started to falter at the way that you seemed to visibly deflate at his offer, as if you were trying to sink into the mattress beneath you. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, finally. “I hate you, so much, but I’m not sure I can keep hating you if you stay and-” your voice cracked. “I really need to hate you. Because if I don’t then-” 

It was as if you cut yourself off, unable to properly articulate what you wanted to say. But he caught your meaning all the same - if he didn’t leave, you might forgive him, you might fall for him all over again. 

You might want to actually live the life that was ending whether you wanted it or not. 

Unfortunately for you, he’d always been a selfish man. If there was a part of you that still wanted him, he was going to reach for it and hold on as tight as he could. 

Leaning forward, his hand brushed the side of your jaw, thumb catching a stray tear as it rolled down your cheek. He waited for something, for you to push him away, to scream at him to leave you alone. You gave him no such reaction, leaning into his touch, your eyes blown wide. Softly, his lips met yours. 

There was no world in which he deserved this. He knew it, you probably knew it too. But the world had never been fair, and you were clinging to his hoodie like you were desperate for him to stay at your side, kissing him like you were making up for lost time. 

You really were stupid. 

He supposed that he was too, or he would’ve figured all this out before he screwed everything up. 

“Let me stay.” He mumbled as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “You told me to live a better life. This is it.” 

You huffed softly, shifting ever so slightly beneath the blankets. “I can’t believe you ever called me manipulative.” For a moment, he’d wondered if that was a rejection, until he felt your hand move to his jaw, tracing the tattoos tenderly. “You’ll never make it up to me, but you’re free to try. I’m in no position to turn down help.” 

Relief flooded his chest, only for the feeling to fade immediately as he gazed at your hand, only now recognising the frailty of it. The only reason you were giving him the time of day was because you were sick, because at some point in the future you’d disappear regardless. 

There was nothing for you to lose. 

And nothing for Sukuna to win. Not in the long term anyway. Neither of you had emerged from this as victors. 

“How long do you have?” He asked, taking your hand tenderly.

You gave him a half hearted shrug and the best smile you could muster. 

“Days, weeks, months? Who’s to say?” 

—

Six meagre weeks elapsed before you met your end. 

Six weeks that Sukuna would cherish for as long as he lived. 

Things never returned to normalcy between you in that time - how could they? Too much had transpired for things to ever go back to the way they were before. Even ignoring Sukuna’s betrayal and the fact that he now spent all of his time in his actual form, your cancer alone meant that the dynamic could never be what it was when you’d first met. 

You were too tired to ever really do anything, spending most of your days confined to your bed - reading or watching TV. Sukuna didn’t seem to mind, spending all his time sitting at your side, back resting against the headboard and quietly watching whatever shitty movie you’d selected that day. 

When you were hungry, he’d cook you food, when you were sick he’d hold your hair out of the way as you vomited in the toilet, when you were caught in the throes of despair over your oncoming fate he’d hold you close in his arms and wipe away your tears until you were all cried out. 

On days where you felt a little better, Sukuna would lead you out of the house, grasping your hand in his, making sure to steady you whenever you stumbled. He’d take you on short walks in the woods, ensuring that you were appropriately bundled up for the snowy weather. 

It wasn’t like you had any fat to keep yourself warm these days, after all. 

He’d discovered that the first time the two of you had made love in your cabin a week after he’d arrived. You’d reached out to him in desire and lust, bashfully admitting that on that front you’d missed him significantly. It was clear that the whole thing felt humiliating to you, flushing furiously as you mumbled the request. 

But he didn’t mind, not when he’d been dreaming about having you like that again for months. 

He almost fell apart at the sight of your naked body. 

You were still beautiful - really you’d always be beautiful to him, but the transformation that you’d undergone in the months you’d been separated was heart-wrenching. Your skin was desperately thin, your ribs and collarbone sticking out too visibly, legs so slim that he was surprised you could walk at all. 

The reverence with which he treated you that night became the norm for every passionate encounter from that point on. He handled you like you were made of glass, his hands gentle against your skin, careful not to put too much weight on you as he sunk into you. It was terrifying to think that you were the same person that he’d flung halfway across a building earlier that year.

He loved you all the same. Adoring the way your small hands would cling to his broad shoulders and whine his name softly, occasionally bringing your fingers up to his face and tracing the disfigured side, as if it didn’t repulse you in the way he’d always imagined it would. 

It sickened him to think that he never would’ve repulsed you, that all his years spent in hatred were totally wasted. He hated that he could’ve come to you as he was and been rewarded with the same love that now had to be torn from him. He could’ve had years at your side, could’ve grown old with you. 

There was nothing that he hated more than himself. 

But while you were still breathing, he kept that hatred at bay. He’d ruined everything else for both of you, he wouldn’t ruin your last few weeks of life too. For now at least, he’d be happy for the time that he could have with you. He’d spend his days looking after you, laughing with you, making love to you, and holding you close in his arms each night. 

Because for the time being, all that was good laid within his grasp, and that was all that really mattered. 

“I always hated being called Shining Star.” You mumbled one evening, huddled up at his side, wrapped in three blankets as the two of you sat on the porch together. The sky was exceptionally clear that night, a blanket of stars visible across the sky. 

“Yeah?” He asked. In his time with you, neither of you had really discussed Shining Star, or all that had happened between you, almost finding peace in this being a place where you could disconnect from all that. 

What was the point in reliving it when you were in your final weeks of life? That would just be cruel. He wanted to spend all his time kissing you and holding you as close to him as possible, rather than talking over the specifics of how he had caused your tragic fate. 

“I never got to pick it. I hated that stupid fucking outfit and the ridiculous sword too. It was all so dumb. I’m not surprised you hated Shining Star, because I really hated her too.” 

He watched you curiously, not all that surprised by your statement. He’d come to suspect that was the case around the time that he’d executed his plan. Though, he’d been too consumed by hatred back then to really understand the implications of your feelings. 

You were just like him, stuck in a role that you didn’t really get to choose. The perfect life that Sukuna had always believed you lived was nothing more than an act, a coping mechanism to stop you from falling apart entirely. 

“I wish things could be different, but I’m glad to be free of her, you know?” 

“So you’re saying you’re glad I did what I did?” Sukuna asked, half-joking. It earned him a pointed glare.

“Obviously not,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I am glad I don’t have to keep trying anymore. I’m not sure how long it would’ve been before I became like Shoko anyway, even if you hadn’t shown up.” 

He’d often wondered about that story you’d told him. He’d known you were lying about the specifics of Yuki’s death, but he’d never been sure if Shoko was another magical girl or if she had genuinely just been a person you’d known on the cancer ward as a teen. He supposed that your words confirmed it to be the former. 

“What actually happened to her?” He asked.

“She started ignoring the call to fight monsters - refused to ever put the amulet on. It drains your life force away until you finally die.”

Sukuna frowned, a little confused by your differing fates considering that the situations sounded similar. “Why didn’t her miracle get reversed, like yours?” 

“There was no need for her miracle to be revoked - her refusal to wear the amulet would kill her anyway. I think I was a special case.” 

You sighed, running a shaky hand through your hair, moving your gaze back up to the sky above you. In the light of the stars you didn’t look quite so frail or pale, he could almost pretend that you were the same person that he’d spent two bliss filled months with. 

“What I did, in being face to face with you and refusing to kill you, even though I had every chance to do so - that was me making an active choice to allow evil to continue in its path. After all, how could I be sure that you’d stop the monsters as I asked you to? It was a direct contradiction to my contract.” 

He hummed, the guilt that had sat with him for months hanging heavy in his gut. He’d known that your mercy was the reason for your current situation, but having you lay it out for him so directly certainly didn’t make him feel good. 

“What even dictates that?” He asked. 

In all this time he’d never really considered it. He’d known about your miracle, understood that you hadn’t been Shining Star from birth in the way that he’d always been a monster. But he’d never given much thought to the force that granted you your abilities in the first place. 

“Hell if I know,” you said, letting out a humorous huff. “Isn’t that insane? I’ve never known. A piece of paper appeared on my bedside one day telling me that I could be saved if I agreed to the terms. I was pretty delirious at the time so I thought I was hallucinating and signed it, because what did it matter?” 

Sukuna’s red eyes were wide in horror as he stared down at you, having understood that you’d had no choice regardless, but surprised at the extent to which you really hadn’t understood what you were getting yourself into - hardly of sound mind when you signed those papers. 

“Back then I would’ve done it even if I’d known it was all real though. No kid wants to die.” You said with a shrug. “And to be clear, I still probably wouldn’t change anything I’ve done in the time I’ve been alive. Even if I could do it all again, knowing that you were going to hurt me, it would still be worth it to have that time with you.” 

He stayed silent, trying to calm his pounding heart. “I still think you’re stupid,” he said softly. “If you ever get the chance to redo it all, you should stay far away from me.” 

Genuine laughter bubbled up from your chest as you leant in closer to him, taking advantage of his warm body. “I don’t think I could if I tried, because despite all the pain you’ve caused me, you gave my life some actual meaning for a little while.” 

It was hard not to genuinely despise himself after hearing the warmth that you injected into your words. How could he have hurt you in the way that he did, when you’d given him nothing but love and acceptance? This wasn’t the fate you deserved - you deserved better than death, and you certainly deserved better than him. 

He held onto you all the same, his lips brushing against the top of your head. As long as you’d allow him at your side, he’d stay there, even if he was unworthy. 

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a long time before you finally spoke again. 

“I think that the end is near, Sukuna.” 

His eyes widened, heart picking up fearfully at your simple statement. The way that you said it was so matter of fact, as if you were talking about the weather rather than your imminent demise. You wouldn’t look at him, your eyes fixed wistfully on the sky above. 

“No. You’re fine. There’s still time.” 

He caught the way you bit down on your lip. “I’m just- I’m so tired.” 

Panic caught desperately in his throat, his grip on you tightening, as if he could keep you tethered to this world so long as he held onto you tight enough. “There has to be a way - another miracle, something?” 

Your laughter was soft, gazing up at him with shining adoration. “All this coming from the man who said I meant nothing to him.” 

“Stop,” he mumbled, frustrated that you’d tease him at a time like this. “Please, there has to be something we can do.” 

Your hand moved to his chest, drawing circles comfortingly into his shirt. “Even if you could find a way, it would be another contract, another list of conditions for me to live by. I just can’t do it again,” you said. 

He opened his mouth to argue, to suggest that this time would be different because you had him and he’d protect you from anyone who might try to destroy your happiness. This time would be different because he’d be on your side. But you stopped him before he could say anything. 

“I think I died when I first signed that contract - my body just took a while to catch up.” The smile that you gave him was heart-wrenching, a flash of the mere teenager that had been forced into a role that she’d never wanted. 

It wasn’t fair. 

He should be the one to have died, it never should’ve been you. 

“Why are you crying? This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He hadn’t realised that tears were dripping down his cheeks until you playfully prodded at him, a wry smile on your haggard face. You had a point, this was the fate that he’d been chasing for all that time. 

And yet, sitting here with you in his arms, the last thing he wished for was your death. 

“I don’t want this.” His voice was quiet, barely audible. It felt like an important assertion to make to you, even here at the very end. He wanted you to know that he’d listened to you, he’d let go of his hatred in favour of holding on to you. 

He wished he could hold on for longer. 

“I believe you.” 

He stared down at you, hating you ever so slightly for the ease at which you said that. He was the last man you should ever put your trust in, he wasn’t deserving of your forgiveness, and yet you gave it to him anyway. Just like you always would. 

“I’m not as scared this time as I was at sixteen. You’re here to hold my hand.” 

His shoulders dropped at the finality of your words, raking his brain for anything to do or say that could change the direction of this evening. Coming up blank, he did the only thing that felt right, shakily reaching his hand out to yours. 

Slowly, he interlinked your fingers together, clutching your cold hand as tightly as he could. It felt so small within his grip, tiny and fragile, something for him to handle with the utmost care. You squeezed his hand weakly, letting out a deep sigh as you rested your head against his shoulder once more, staring up at the stars above. 

“In another life, I hope we meet again. I hope that in that world, we both do better.” 

He took a shaky breath, making no effort to stem the tears flowing from his crimson eyes. His eyes were trained on the side of your angelic face, committing your features to memory beneath the starlight. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he’d live in regret for the rest of his life, that he’d spend the rest of his lonely days missing you. 

He supposed that was what he deserved. 

But just for tonight, you were here in his arms and everything was right beneath the shining stars. 

“I love you,” he whispered, squeezing your hand tightly. 

You gazed up at him with shiny eyes filled with nothing but affection for the man who had ruined your life. 

“I love you too. I always will.”

a/n: sorry once again for this, although I'm sure some of you consider this to be the good ending since sukuna will literally never get over this and reader can finally have peace

I had two different endings in mind for this when I started writing - the other consisted of reader killing sukuna and staying trapped in the cycle, which just didn't feel like the right conclusion in the end!

thank you so much for all the love on this fic, its been by far my favourite series to write! I'll be focusing on finishing sweet tooth over the next few weeks before starting a new sukuna x reader x gojo fanatsy mini-series that I'm very excited about hehe

once again I'm sorry for the angst, and I hope you enjoyed reading!

taglist: @starmapz @feyrinnn @riri-1234 @cherrycokeline @4shrimps @dogggggggblog-kaye @winkii @keikeisuke @feyrasworld @sukubusss @motel6killer @yeagersss @gegeeeeeeeeeeex @autwizzy @adettee @himezoro @juiceboxluvr @sugrfairie @lmaogottazayn @pwd54gr54 @maya2848 @irislostinyouriris @anothergojostan @bam-boozledx @360seas @plaguecxlt @leave-rae-alone @daburasdoll @nicerthanu @monic19 @ankotaiyakii @aiive @indiewritesxoxo @throwmethroughawindow @wackywhip @seellove @kariatenoh @hashahasha @r0vena @dawnsoblivion @luvleixo @venettahaven @powerhayakawaa @dollienanaaa @justfiq @kaagrwl @yourfavkaur @martianzmars @jjkfannn34 @cupidstrace