OnyxMew

Suguru was supposed to stop by tonight. However, he had to take care of his "nuisance," as he called his wife. A rather bitter claim, considering the way he'd held you against his chest earlier, his arms wound around you, gentle yet trapping all the same. Keeping you there as Satoru sat beneath your exposed slit. Panties had become a clothing option removed around year three or four, and he tentatively lapped at your juices while Suguru's fingers brushed through your hair. You could still hear his voice, soft and warm despite the cruelty hidden beneath. A thick finger had tilted your chin upward until your weary, blissed-out gaze met his half-lidded violet one.

"If I could stay here with you all day, I would, but duty calls, my dove."

You only wished you were the bird he claimed you to be. At least then you would have wings. The horizon would belong to you instead of them. A treat to imagine sometimes, usually on nights when sleep refused to come despite the drugs in your system fighting for your body to rest. Endless skies painted in baby blues and golden rays. Freedom so vast it hollowed your chest with longing. Anything would be better than a cage, even an endless sleep.

You supposed it was a mercy that Suguru wasn't here tonight. No risk of being dragged from your crate and into their bed in the dead hours of the morning. No Satoru burying his face against your throat, his voice dissolving into desperate little whimpers as he begged you not to leave him with his cock nestled deep inside you. Sometimes you wondered if he was searching for the woman he had once loved. Not you. Not the person you'd become after your wedding night, after discovering what kind of monster you had married.

You should have run. Should have thrown yourself from the hotel balcony and trusted the pavement more than the man waiting at the end of the aisle. Instead, you stayed. Or perhaps you were simply too pathetic to leap.

The beeping continued as your thoughts drifted through a haze of exhaustion. When you stirred again, your mouth felt stuffed with cotton. Satoru must have put too much in your kibble last night. Yet something felt off. After seven years of hell, one learned to recognize the smallest inconsistencies. You couldn't taste the lingering graininess. Nor the taste of the chalky bitterness of crushed multivitamins. All you could hear was that soft, rhythmic beep from a machine nearby.

For a moment, you wondered if you'd finally gone mad. Perhaps this was what happened when a bird spent too long in a cage.

Then other sounds emerged from the fog.

Voices. Footsteps. The distant murmur of nurses drifting through a hallway.

Your eyes fluttered open.

Fluorescent lights glared overhead, nothing like the perpetual twilight of the basement you'd come to know so intimately. Beneath you was not the cold metal flooring of the crate but the soft embrace of a mattress, swallowing you in warmth, like Suguru's waiting arms. The air smelled sterile and clean, yet beneath the antiseptic lingered the overwhelming fragrance of flowers. Bouquets crowded every available surface, vibrant bursts of life pressed into a room that felt strangely unreal.

A hospital.

Before you could fully process the realization, another sound reached you. Familiar footsteps.

"Visiting hours are over, Satoru!" a nurse called after him, irritation dripping off the tongue. You wished you could tell her not to waste the effort.

You could practically picture the careless shrug he'd offer in response. The charming smile. The complete disregard for rules that were never meant for men like him. Because knowing Satoru, he probably brushed right past her without a second glance. And knowing Satoru, he probably believed he owned the place.

Perhaps he did.

The Gojo family owned enough of the city to make the distinction meaningless. And Satoru Gojo sat comfortably at the center of it all.

You squeezed your eyes shut, counting sheep in an attempt to calm your racing heart. One. Two. Three. Anything to avoid confronting whatever strange dream this was. A hospital? Had you done something in your sleep?

The click of the door interrupted your counting. You stumbled somewhere between sheep twenty-three and twenty-seven. You'd have to start over. Ever the nuisance, Satoru somehow managed to invade even your sheep counting.

"Hey, baby."

Your ears perked at the softness in his voice. You'd grown so accustomed to his exaggerated baby-talk over the years that normal speech sounded almost foreign coming from him.

"I brought you more flowers. I don't want you to miss a year of us together. Happy year three."

You heard the quiet clack of a vase settling onto what little space remained. A moment later, the mattress dipped beside you. A careful gesture, as if the bed might break from his presence. Or you might too. An arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, mindful of IV lines and wires. You felt him shake. Once. Twice. Almost in time with your counting of sheep. Maybe he knew you were awake. Maybe he thought enough comfort might coax you back to him. A moment later, something warm dampened your hairline.

Tears.

You refused to process them. Satoru had cried before. Thrown tantrums. Pouted. Begged. Sulked when you forced yourself behind the couch, and he could no longer reach you, forcing him to call for Suguru to deal a punishment. This type of tear was different, far more raw than the version you've seen. As if you'd taken a beak to his ribs and pecked straight through his heart, splitting it open just for you.

"Suguru says it's time to move on. Says you and I were only arranged, that I shouldn't have gotten so attached."

Silence settled between you, and despite everything, your chest loosened.

You hated that it did.

Hated that hearing his voice still felt like coming home. How your body relaxed into him. As if some part of you recognized him as safety.

When he was the reason you needed saving.

You tried to remember the bites, the bruises, the cage, the crate, the years. You tried to remember every violation against your human rights disguised as affection, everything that should have filled you with disgust. Yet all you could feel was the way he clung to you now. Broken. Loving.

His face nuzzled against your temple. Wet kisses pressed against your skin, not heated and open-mouthed like usual, but damp from the tears spilling freely down his cheeks. You could almost picture those impossibly blue eyes glistening.

Maybe it had all been a nightmare.

A horrible, twisted nightmare.

"Suguru says we'll get rid of the crate," he whispered, his voice cracking as his lanky body trembled beside you. "If you come home with us."

The words shattered the fragile hope forming inside your chest.

If it had all been a nightmare, then why did he know about the crate?

And why would you trust a man like him?

Naobito sat comfortably in an antique velvet chair behind the recently fabricated mahogany desk he had commissioned nearly three months ago. The rich dark wood gleamed beneath the sunlight filtering through the windows, every corner polished to perfection. It was expensive and excessive, exactly the kind of thing Naobito liked to surround himself with.

“Father.” 

Naoya spoke, his expression remained neutral, but the sharpness at the end of the word was enough to tell Naobito that whatever he had come to discuss was important …at least in Naoya’s eyes.

“Yes, Naoya?” Naobito exhaled a stream of smoke from the cigar hanging lazily between his fingers.

“I have a question.”

“For you to disturb me this early in the morning, it must be something important.” Naobito leaned back slightly in his chair. “Speak, boy. What is it?”

“Why did you let those bottom-feeders move in to town?” Naoya asked, his eyebrows furrowing tighter.

“You mean Sukuna and his boys?”

“Yes.”

Naobito brought the cigar back to his mouth, inhaling slowly before letting the smoke drift into the room.

“They paid good money for it.”

Naoya grunted lowly. “I ran into Sukuna yesterday, at the saloon. The way he spoke clearly showed that you two have some kind of history.” 

Naoya was clever. He knew how to twist things, how to say just enough to make people reveal more than they intended. It was a skill he had inherited from his father, though neither of them would openly admit it.

Naobito stopped reading the newspaper. His head remained facing forward, but his eyes shifted upwards towards his son. With his free hand, he pulled the cigar from his mouth.

“We might, but what were you doing in the saloon with them? Is that why you missed yesterday’s dinner?”

“I went to see her.”

Her. Naobito knew exactly who his son was referring to. You. Father Clarke’s daughter. Of course, he knew who you were. After all, he was the one who had suggested Naoya begin persuading you. 

An arrangement between his son and the priest’s daughter would provide the Zenins—especially Naobito, and eventually Naoya—with even greater influence over a town filled with religious zealots. With your father being one of the most beloved priests across New Clementine, it would only be a matter of time before more doors opened to them, allowing their influence to spread even further across the land. 

Most people on this continent were religious fanatics who proudly called themselves Catholics or Christians. Naobito never cared much about learning the difference between the two. He wasn’t one of them. Not truly. But when the situation demanded it, he could play the role perfectly. Another humble follower of the Lord. Another respectable man spreading God's teachings.

How easy it was to fool these people. Tell them exactly what they wanted to hear, smile at the right moments, quote old scripture when necessary, and they would practically hand over their trust themselves.

Most of them, anyways. Father Clarke was one of the exceptions. 

While Father Clarke had never openly confronted him, Naobito knew the priest had his suspicions. The old man was observant, he paid close attention to smaller details. Fortunately, suspicions meant nothing without proof, and Naobito had always been careful. 

Good, let him theorize. Let him spend sleepless nights wondering. As long as those suspicions remained trapped inside the priest’s head, they were harmless.

Truthfully, Naobito had hoped Father Clarke never returned from his trip to Sourwater. Yet somehow he had managed to come back. Worse. He had returned with two more idiots.

The priest hadn’t revealed much about what they had found in Sourwater. Only that the town had been massacred and that they needed to travel north to the reservation because apparently Kenai and Elsu were necessary to continue the investigation and uncover whoever was responsible.

However, Naobito wasn’t stupid.

The problem ran far deeper than what Josiah was willing to admit. He could see it in the man’s face. Hear it in his voice. There were things Josiah wasn’t saying. Questions he wasn't answering. 

Naobito intended to discover exactly how much the priest knew before the man interfered with matters he had no business involving himself in.

Naobito gritted his teeth. “Stay away from those men, boy. You hear me?”

“Why? Aren’t they just more of those stinkin' dwellers in town?”

“Stay away from them, Naoya.” Naobito commanded. “And as for your girl, you need to hurry up. I can speed some things up, but there’s only so much I can do. That matter depends solely on your actions.” his expression hardened. “Don’t embarrass our family in front of the whole town. You know how much they care for that girl.”

If Naobito had still been a young man, he would've courted you himself instead of relying on his useless son to do it for him. You weren’t an ugly woman. Quite the contrary, actually. The only unfortunate thing about you was who your father happened to be.

Father Clarke knew exactly why Naoya kept visiting. At every opportunity he could, the priest found some excuse to keep you away: a chore, church work, helping a friend, anything, anything to keep Naoya at arm’s length.

Naoya clenched his hands into fists, annoyed that his stubborn father had left him with more questions than answers. No matter. In due time, he would figure out what was truly going on. Why his father wanted him away from those men, why Sukuna unsettled him so much, and why Father Clarke had brought two strangers back from the reservation.

“Yes, father.”

Naoya bowed his head slightly before leaving the office. The doors shut behind him with a quiet click as he turned down the hallway and retreated into his room, his mind already turning over possibilities and suspicions of his own.

The bedroom door creaked softly as Mary pushed it open with her front paws. You followed her into the kitchen, still half asleep as thoughts drifted through your mind about what today might bring. Father was back, Satoru was back, and now there were two strangers staying in your home. It made you anxious. Anxious about what was happening, about what they had discovered in Sourwater, and most importantly, about what would happen next.

When you got to the kitchen Kenai was already there, standing in front of the stove with a cast-iron pan in hand. Eggs sizzled on the hot metal while the scent of bacon and toast filled the kitchen.

“Good morning,” said Kenai. “I made breakfast. Eggs, toast, and bacon. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Good morning,” you yawned, still trying to wake yourself from sleep. “No, I don’t mind. Thank you for breakfast. It smells really good.”

You sat down at the dining table, waiting for Kenai to serve the food. Besides your chair, Mary anxiously wagged her tail, staring at your plate with big eyes, hoping you'd share a piece of bacon with her.

“Your father already ate.”

Kenai set down three plates. One in front of you, one for himself, and one for the other man they had arrived with. What was his name again? Elsy? Elsa?

You looked down at the plates on the table. “This one’s for Elsa, yes?” you asked.

Kenai laughed. “Elsu,” he corrected. “And yes, it’s for him. We’ll be needing all our strength for what comes next.”

“For what comes next?” you repeated, already bringing a piece of toast to your mouth.

Kenai gave you a tense look and adjusted the hem of his shirt. “I uhh… think it’s better if you discuss this with your father.”

It was evident he hadn’t meant to let that slip.

You sighed. “Alright. Do you know where he is?”

“I think he was headed out to church.”

“Mass. I forgot. Today’s Sunday again.” you rubbed your forehead with a sigh. The stressful week had made you completely lose track of time.

“I imagine you want to go there?” Kenai chewed another bite of food.

“Of course. Thank you for breakfast.” you tossed a small piece of bacon to Mary.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

After you finished eating, you remained at the table for a few minutes longer, mindlessly tracing the rim of your cup. The morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, warming the room and illuminating the dust particles floating through the air. 

Eventually you stood up and returned to your own room, changing from the nightgown into a white church dress. Then you fixed your hair, checked your appearance one final time in the mirror, and finished preparing for the day ahead. For a brief moment, you studied your reflection. The past week had been more exhausting than you realized. Dark circles rested beneath your eyes, and there was still a sharp tension in your shoulders that refused to disappear.

Once you were done, you said goodbye to Kenai and Elsu before stepping outside. The town was already awake. Shop owners unlocked their doors, horses trotted through the muddy streets pulling wagons behind them, and townsfolk greeted one another as they began their day. The church bells rang in the distance, reminding everyone that Mass would begin soon.

You hurried over, the familiar sight of its steeple rising above the surrounding buildings. By the time you arrived, a few townsfolk were already seated in the pews. The familiar scent of candle wax and old wood greeted you the moment you stepped inside. Deacons moved quietly around the church, preparing everything necessary.

Father and Junpei stood off in one corner, discussing everything Junpei had gone over during his absence. From where you were, you could see Junpei speaking more than usual, occasionally gesturing with his hands as he explained something while your father listened attentively, nodding along from time to time. Every so often father would correct him on a detail or offer a suggestion, the younger man immediately taking the advice to heart. It reminded you how much Junpei looked up to him.

As Mass began and Josiah carried on with Bible study, discussing more of the Lord’s teachings, you sat in your usual spot near the front with the rosary tightly held in your hands. His words filled the church, echoing softly on the wooden walls, but you found yourself struggling to focus on them. You couldn't take your eyes off him. Not because you weren’t interested in what he was saying, but because now that he was finally back, you found yourself looking at him. Really looking at him.

The years had aged him. Wrinkles stretched across his forehead, deepening whenever he furrowed his brows while reading from the Bible. The laugh lines around his mouth had become more pronounced than you remembered. The skin beneath his neck sagged slightly now, while dark circles lingered beneath tired eyes—were they from the journey, or was he simply exhausted after carrying the weight of so many people’s burdens for so many years?—Then there were the gray hairs, they had spread through his eyebrows and across what remained of his thinning hair. Even his posture seemed different now; not weak but heavier, as if the years sat upon his shoulders alongside every confession, every funeral, and every grieving family he had ever comforted.

You were grateful he was back. More grateful than words could ever describe. Seeing him standing there brought relief you hadn't felt in days. The terrible scenarios that had haunted your mind while he was gone slowly seemed foolish now that he stood only a few feet away. But seeing him like this... so tired, so worn down. It made something ache inside your chest.

Perhaps it was time for him to retire. To finally pass the position to someone else.

Junpei would be a worthy successor. He had proven that much last week. You remembered how nervous he had been before his first Mass, only to surprise everyone with how well he handled it. However, he was still young, and there was always the possibility that the covenant wouldn't choose him just yet. Regardless, all you really cared about was your father. You wanted him to spend what remained of his life free from this burden. You wanted him home with you, so that for once, you could be the one taking care of him. To make him breakfast in the mornings. To remind him to rest when he worked too much. To stop worrying about everyone else for a change and allow someone to worry about him instead.

You had noticed the struggles over the past few years. The way he occasionally faltered while walking. How his knees sometimes threatened to give out for a split second before he caught himself. The trembling in his hands whenever he carried something heavy for too long. Even now, while turning a page in the Bible, you noticed a slight shake in his fingers before it disappeared. They were small things. Tiny things. The kind of things nobody else seemed to notice. You always did, because he was your father, and every one of those signs hurt. It hurt watching the man who had cared for you since you were a baby slowly deteriorate with things that once were natural for him to do. It hurt knowing that no matter how badly you wished otherwise, time was moving forward, and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop it.

You forced yourself to focus on the sermon. Yet even then, as Father Clarke continued preaching before the congregation, you couldn't help but hear how fragile his voice had become too. It wasn't enough for anyone else to question it. Most people probably didn't even realize the difference. You however, heard the slight strain whenever he spoke for too long, the moments where he paused to catch his breath before continuing. 

The audience continued listening to him with the same respect in spite of everything. They saw a pillar of strength when they gazed at him. A man selected by God to lead them through the challenges of life. They were blind to the weariness concealed behind his smile and the burden he bore on a daily basis for the sake of everyone around him. Perhaps it was the reason why it struck so badly, because while the whole town leaned on Father Clarke for support, there was no one there to help carry him.

After Mass was over, you wandered through the streets of Whiskey Falls. Thankfully, the sun was shining brightly today, and most of the sticky mud had finally dried back into dirt. It was one less thing to worry about, staining your boots every time you stepped outside. Unfortunately, that did not erase the horrible smell of manure.

Honestly, something should really be done about it. Not only was it an awful smell, but surely it scared away travelers too? Oh, who were you kidding? Whiskey Falls was never short on visitors. 

Being a livestock town with almost everything a person could need, people were bound to flock there no matter the season. If it wasn't cowboys trotting through with their horses and causing a ruckus every few days, it was wealthy travelers from Saint Beaumont stepping off the train with polished shoes and expensive luggage. They would stay at the hotel for a few nights simply because they had never seen a place like this before. The traditional wooden buildings, the endless farms stretching across the countryside, the dense forests surrounding the town, and the swift river that cut through the landscape all felt exotic to them.

Apparently Saint Beaumont was different. A city, they called it. Their buildings weren't made from wood but from stone, brick, and something called concrete. Their roads weren't covered in dirt and mud either. They were properly built, paved, and maintained. Strange. The idea of such a place almost sounded unreal. Perhaps one day, when you had enough money, you would visit and see it for yourself.

The idea played in your mind as you continued walking, occasionally greeting familiar faces passing by. Mrs. Arizona sat outside her house rocking gently in her chair while gossiping with a neighbor. A group of children ran down the street chasing one another with sticks in hand, pretending they were famous gunslingers from some dime novel. Further ahead, a ranch hand guided a small herd of cattle through town, forcing several people to step aside and make room.

Life carried on as usual.

You slowly pushed open the wooden doors to the saloon. Of course you were back here. It was everyone's favorite gathering spot. The place in town most filled with life. Today, however, it felt strangely empty. Only a handful of souls occupied the room. Two men sat at the bar with drinks already in hand while the rest of the seats remained empty. The usual laughter, music, and conversations that filled the building were nowhere to be found. Even the air felt quieter.

Confused, you walked over to Utahime.

“Hey,” you called out. “Where’s everyone? Why is this place so empty?”

Utahime cleaned the bar table with a cloth, not bothering to look up.

“Haven’t you heard? The circus is visiting town. Everyone's out at the fair today.” she sighed. “Hopefully I can close early today, or maybe Dorothy can cover my shift so I can go there. I feel so left out being stuck here while everyone else is having fun.”

“Dorothy? Who's that?”

“Ah, the other bartender. We cover each other's shifts when one of us isn't available. But I forgot about the circus coming over, so I stupidly agreed to work today. Whatever… I'll just ask her early tomorrow morning since she's out there having fun right now.”

“Alright, I'll leave you to it then. Hopefully Dorothy takes pity on you tomorrow.”

“I hope so too,” Utahime groaned. “If not, I’m going to be stuck listening to drunks complain all day while everyone else enjoys themselves.”

“You'll survive.”

“Barely.”

You shook your head, trying not to laugh as Utahime crossed her arms and sulked. She gave you a saddened expression as you turned around and headed back towards the front doors.

You felt bad for her. Being trapped inside all day while everyone else enjoyed themselves sounded miserable. Still, the moment she mentioned the circus, excitement bubbled inside your chest. It had been years. Years since one had last come through Whiskey Falls. You had only been six years old back then. While most of the details had faded with time, you still remembered how happy you had been. The bright colors. The music. The games. Your father holding your hand as the two of you wandered from attraction to attraction, determined to experience everything the circus had to offer.

A small ache settled in your chest. You doubted he would want to come with you this time. No matter. Maybe you could bring him something instead. Perhaps cotton candy or a balloon, something simple to make him smile.

Around you, more and more people seemed to be heading in the same direction, their conversations filled with excitement and anticipation. Children tugged at their parents' hands while groups of friends hurried ahead, eager not to miss anything.

In the distance, colorful circus tents stretched on the horizon, their stripes standing brightly beneath the sun. Wagons surrounded the grounds while tiny figures moved between them like ants from this far away. Even from where you were, you could already hear music drifting through the wind, accompanied by bursts of laughter and excited voices.

The last time you'd seen the circus, your hand had been wrapped securely in the palms of someone you loved, their presence making the world feel bigger and safer all at once. Now you stood there alone, watching from afar. 

The crunch of dirt beneath your boots accompanied each step towards the fairgrounds. Out in the open distance stood the entrance, a large brightly painted sign welcoming visitors inside, with a small booth resting off to the side. Beyond it towered a giant red-and-white striped tent surrounded by smaller carpets of every color, stands, and wagons. The closer you got, the louder everything became. Music glided through the air accompanied by bursts of laughter, excited shouting, and the constant murmur of hundreds of voices blending together into one overwhelming sound. 

You stood in front of the booth. The sign read:

Children ¢15

Adults ¢35

Elderly (ages 60+) ¢20

You frustratedly shook your head. 

Unbelievable how expensive things were becoming. Just a few years ago all you had to pay was five cents. Now it was thirty-five. You placed the coins on the counter. The man inside grabbed them and handed you a ticket in return with a bright smile.

“Enjoy!”

Yeah, after all that money wasted you best believe you were about to enjoy every single thing this fair had to offer.

Inside, the fair was enormous. The stands and tents stretched in every direction. Different vendors sold all types of sugary sweets and strange foods while games and attractions occupied nearly every open space available. Everywhere you looked there was something happening. Crowds gathered around performers, merchants loudly advertised their products, and children darted between people while exhausted parents hurried after them.

Wandering without any particular destination in mind, you examined everything around you, trying to decide what to do first. Everything felt overwhelming. You just wanted to try all things at once. 

Almost immediately your body made the decision for you as your stomach growled loudly, demanding lunch before anything else. Following the smell of food, you made your way over to the vendors. The closer you got, the stronger the aromas became. Different spices mixed together in the air alongside the scent of grilled meats, fresh bread, and sugary desserts.

Normally you'd eat something simple, but today wasn't a normal day. The circus was here and that meant trying something new. 

Unfortunately, most of the stands had long lines stretching in front of them, and you weren't particularly interested in spending half afternoon waiting around. All you wanted was a quick bite before throwing yourself into everything else.

Scanning over the stands you noticed one almost empty. You started walking over to it. Thankfully there was only one person in line.

As their order was being prepared, you stepped closer and examined the menu hanging above the counter.

It read:

Spaghetti $8

Gnocchi $8

Lasagna $14

Pizza $3

Panzerotto fritto $1

Gelato $16

You could almost feel yourself pass out from the prices. What was wrong with people these days? Why was everything so expensive?

The person ahead of you moved aside the moment they received their order. You stepped forward, finally coming face-to-face with the man running the stand. He had creamy beige skin, short black hair, a silly upturned mustache, bushy eyebrows, and dark blue eyes. A white apron covered his clothes while a matching white hat sat neatly atop his head.

“How can I help you?” the man asked in a cheerful high-pitched voice. His accent sounded different from any you'd heard before.

“Uhh, can I please have a piss-a?” you answered, frowning slightly at your own pronunciation. You weren't entirely sure if you had said it correctly. Truthfully, you'd never even heard the word before today.

“Pizza. Piz-za.” the man corrected with a smile. “It's Italian.”

He quickly turned around, grabbed what appeared to be dough, and began pressing it flat with a wooden roller.

“Italian?”

“Yeah. Across the Atlantic Ocean there's a place in Europe called Italy, that's where I'm from.”

“Ohhh…”

“You've never heard of it?” the man continued working, now spreading tomato paste across the flattened dough before sprinkling shredded cheese over the top and placing it inside an oven.

“Can't say that I have, nope. Sorry…” you awkwardly scratched the back of your head.

“Ah, that's alright. Where are you from, if I may ask?” he turned back to look at you.

“I'm from here.”

“Whiskey Falls?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, I've never been here before, but it’s fine. Only have live in America for two years. Can't explore everything at once.”

“Ohh… that's nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, it's why I joined the circus. It allows me to travel all across the country while still earning my keep and being protected.” he paused briefly before continuing. “Gotta say, you guys have a lot of problems out there. I haven't personally met any of them, but I've heard all about these outlaws, gangs, bounty hunters…” the man's expression became noticeably more serious. “Those other hunters too, I guess…”

You frowned at his last words, you knew who he was referring to, and oh how much those men gave you the creeps. You weren't ignorant to what was happening out there in the world. The dangers lurking beyond the safety of towns and settlements. It was one of the main reasons you were grateful to live somewhere like Whiskey Falls. Every time you heard stories about what happened on the open frontier, your entire body felt numb. It was a cruel world.

Suddenly a ding rang. The Italian man immediately turned around and removed the pizza with a large wooden paddle.

“Here, try it.” he handed over the freshly baked pizza. 

It was quite small, honestly. You could comfortably hold it with both hands.

Skeptical at first, you took a bite, letting the flavors settle on your tongue. The combination of warm bread, melted cheese and tomato sauce was unlike anything you'd tasted before. With every chew, the flavor seemed to grow stronger.

Your eyes widened, then widened even more. Without realizing it, you immediately took another bite and another and another. The pizza disappeared entirely within seconds.

The Italian man laughed. “It's good, am I right?”

You nodded enthusiastically, wiping your mouth with a handkerchief you had tucked away inside your pocket for emergencies. You'd clean the old piece of cloth later.

“If you want, I can make you another. Larger this time.” the man behind the stand suggested.

“No, it's quite alright. Thanks. Don't want to get too full before dinner.”

You pulled out your purse, handing over the money.

“Thank you for coming.” the man gave a polite smile.

You nodded back before turning away from the stand. The sounds of the fair immediately swallowed you again as laughter, music, and excited voices carried from every direction.

Lunch was finished which meant the real fun was about to begin.

There were attractions in every direction, making it difficult to decide where to go next. Bright banners fluttered overhead while people drifted between tents and booths. 

Immediately your attention was drawn to a row of fenced pens. Strange animals were inside them. Animals you'd never seen before. Several children crowded around the enclosures, begging their parents for a few coins so they could buy feed from the attendants. Most of the adults eventually gave in, unable to resist the pleading looks directed their way.

The first animal caught your attention. 

It was a bird. A very large bird. Ridiculously large. Strong legs supported its body while black feathers covered most of it, except for the white feathers decorating the tips of its tiny wings and tail. Its neck seemed impossibly long and ended in a small head framed by enormous eyelashes.

According to the sign besides the enclosure the animal was called an ostrich.

You stared at it for a moment. The ostrich stared back. The two of you continued staring at each other until the bird suddenly lowered its head and began pecking at the ground, apparently deciding you were not interesting enough to warrant further attention. How rude.

You continued looking, some animals you recognized, others you didn’t. A few pens later stood another strange creature.

At first glance it looked similar to a horse or perhaps a donkey. Its neck was long like the ostrich's, though far furrier, and its large eyes observed the crowd. White and brown fur covered its entire body. A llama said the sign. 

You couldn't help but laugh when a small boy approached the animal with a small cup of grass and leaves. The llama leaned forward, stared at him for a second, then promptly spit directly into his face. The horrified scream that followed only made you laugh harder. The boy's mother looked far less amused.

Further down stood yet another enclosure.

This animal was strange too. At first it looked like a turtle, then you noticed it wasn't. It was much larger and carried a heavy dome-shaped shell on its back. According to the sign, tortoises were different from turtles. They couldn't swim, preferred living on land, and spent most of their lives eating plants and vegetables.

Interesting. Not nearly as entertaining as the llama, but interesting.

The final animal was perhaps the oddest of them all.

Its rounded body was covered in coarse shaggy fur while long limbs dangled awkwardly beneath it. Three enormous curved claws extended from each foot, and its small rounded head seemed almost too tiny for the rest of its body.

The creature moved slowly, very slowly. Painfully slowly. You watched it for nearly five minutes before realizing it had barely changed positions. A sloth. Its name felt very appropriate considering it appeared committed to doing absolutely nothing.

You eventually left the exhibit and headed for the games and activities that were waiting further ahead, already feeling the excitement to win a few prizes. 

There were all types of games around here; bottles placed on a table for people to throw small circular objects onto them, another table with cups for people to toss balls inside, a water bucket filled with apples for people to catch using only their mouths.

A burst of complaints suddenly drew your attention elsewhere. A man sat atop a small chair suspended above a larger water trough with a bright red target besides him. A group of teenagers took turns throwing balls at it, determined to knock him into the water. They missed repeatedly until one finally managed to hit the center. The mechanism released immediately, sending the unfortunate man crashing into the water below with a loud splash. You laughed alongside the crowd as cheers erupted around him. 

There were all sorts of activities happening around the fairgrounds. People laughed, children screamed excitedly, merchants called out to passing visitors, and performers wandered through the crowd entertaining anyone willing to stop and watch.

As you continued walking, taking in everything around you, a familiar head of blonde hair caught your attention.

“Hey, Yuki!” you approached her with a greeting.

“Oh hey, what are you doing here? Didn't expect to see you today.”

You awkwardly smiled, heat creeping up to your cheeks.

“Oh, by the way, this is Choso. I've been meaning to introduce you guys to him, but with everything that's happened recently, I haven't had the time.” Yuki stepped a foot back, allowing you to get a better look at him.

You recognized him immediately. He was one of the men who had been sitting with Sukuna that day in the saloon. He was tall, though a bit shorter than Sukuna …and Yuki, his pale skin contrasting sharply his long dark brown hair that reached just above the shoulders. Small dark eyes rested beneath thin eyebrows, while unusual markings stretched across the bridge of his nose and along both cheeks. Like Sukuna and Toji, he wore black despite the scorching afternoon heat. Honestly, you had no idea how any of these men weren't melting beneath all those layers.

For a brief second Choso's eyes widened in recognition too. Then, just as quickly, his expression returned to its usual blankness.

“Hi.” he said, bringing a hand up in greeting.

“Uhh, hello there. I'm...” you introduced yourself.

Based on his reaction, it was obvious he already knew exactly who you were.

Noticing the suspicious look lingering on your face, Yuki quickly stepped in. “Choso's allergic to the sun, if you're wondering why he's dressed like that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean his friends are allergic to the sun too?”

The man immediately glared at you while Yuki burst out laughing. It might've sounded like a joke to her, but you definitely weren't joking. The more you learned about these men, the stranger they became.

Choso rolled his eyes and turned away, grabbing one of the balls resting nearby. Only then did you realize they had been playing one of the carnival games. A stack of cans sat arranged neatly at the end of a table. Players received three chances to knock them all down and win a prize. Choso pulled his arm back before launching the final ball. The remaining cans scattered through the air, sending Yuki jumping in excitement.

“Good job!” she smiled brightly while giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

The worker behind the stand picked up the fallen cans and arranged them neatly again before handing Choso a small plush toy as his prize. Without hesitation, he passed it to Yuki.

Immediately her eyes lit up.

“Thank you!”

Before Choso could react, she threw her arms around him in a hug. For a brief second he simply stood there frozen, as if his mind had stopped working entirely. Then shook his head and let out a quiet chuckle before placing an arm behind her back.

The sight was cute. It was nice knowing that Yuki was enjoying herself and that she felt comfortable enough around him. Then again, Yuki had always been like that with everyone. Friendly, open, and capable of making friends almost anywhere she went.

“Sooo, how do you two know each other?” you questioned, kicking a small rock on the ground.

“Oh.” Yuki paused, placing a hand on her chin as she thought back to the memory. “Choso helped me a few days ago. The gate to one of the sheep pens came loose or something, I'm not really sure what happened, but all the animals escaped and I had to run after them. Luckily Choso happened to be nearby and helped me round them all up. Ever since then we've been friends.”

“I see.” you nodded at the story, though your eyes lingered on Choso for a second longer than necessary. “Well, I'm just glad you're okay. You seem really happy to be here.”

“I am. I've never been to a fair before. Well...” she rubbed the back of her neck. “At least not a fun one like this.”

“That's good.” you smiled, then glanced at Choso again. “I was just worried, that's all.”

“Worried?” Choso finally spoke up.

You looked back at him. “Yeah.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “About what?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Well, you know...”

“No, I don't.” the stare he gave you was intense. “You can say it.”

You awkwardly cleared your throat. “Well, you just met him a few days ago.” you motioned vaguely at him. “And people around here don't exactly have the best experiences with strangers showing up out of nowhere.”

Immediately Choso's expression darkened. “So because I'm a stranger, I'm suspicious?”

Before you could answer, Yuki placed a hand against his chest. “Hey, it's okay.” she laughed nervously. “She's just worried about me, that's all. She's a good friend.”

“She doesn't look worried.” Choso muttered.

“She is.” Yuki insisted. “That's just how she is.”

Choso stared down at her for a moment before briefly glancing in your direction. The look he gave you made it clear he wasn't convinced, but when his eyes returned to Yuki, some of the tension left his shoulders. He seemed to weigh his options, debating whether the argument was worth continuing.

Eventually he let out a long defeated sigh. “Alright. Alright.” he stepped back and folded his arms.

Yuki immediately brightened up again. “Hey, they're doing a show in a few minutes inside the big tent. You wanna come with us?”

Besides her, Choso rolled his eyes.

“Oh, wouldn't I be interrupting you two?”

“Nonsense!” Yuki waved the concern away. “Besides, Choso's friends are going to be there and I'd honestly feel a lot better having someone I know around. No offense, Choso, but your friends are kinda weird.”

He laughed. “No worries. I get it.”

“Great! Well, what do you say?”

“I mean, sure. If it's no problem.”

“Then that's settled.”

Before anyone could protest, Yuki immediately grabbed your hand with one hand and Choso's with the other, dragging both of you through the crowd. The giant red-and-white tent seemed to grow larger with every step while music and laughter drifted from somewhere inside. Whatever was happening in there, it sounded like it was about to begin.

The tent was huuuuge, rows upon rows of chairs occupying most of the space while a smaller stage stood in the center beneath the bright lights. People continued pouring inside, searching for seats as low murmurs filled the air. The scent of sawdust hung back beneath the smell of perfume, sweat, and buttery snacks people had purchased from the vendors outside. An awful combination.

The row you had chosen was completely full except for five chairs. Choso sat at one end with Yuki besides him, leaving her directly in the middle between the two of you. To your right remained two empty seats.

“I’m so excited for this.” Yuki whispered, barely able to contain herself.

“I know, me too.” you agreed while shamelessly stealing a piece of popcorn from the bag Choso had bought for her.

The two of you engaged in pointless chatter while more people slowly filled the tent. The empty seats gradually disappeared one by one until only a few remained scattered throughout the crowd. Children bounced impatiently in their chairs while adults settled in for the show. Soon enough the bright lights illuminating the audience dimmed, leaving the stage as the main focus of attention.

“Is it starting?” Yuki looked up excitedly.

Before you could answer, another voice suddenly joined in.

“Choso, you didn’t tell us you were bringing company.”

When you turned around you saw Sukuna. Of course it was him, and with Toji too nonetheless. He looked just as unimpressed as always. 

“We’ll move up.” you offered, already beginning to stand. “That way you can sit together.”

“No need.” Sukuna waved the suggestion away. “Choso seems like he doesn't want interruptions, and besides...” his eyes briefly drifted towards you. “The view is much better from here.” a smug smirk appeared on his face.

Choso immediately grunted and rolled his eyes again.

“Okay...” you and Yuki exchanged confused looks as the two men sat down. Yuki remained on your left, Sukuna now occupied the seat to your right, and Toji claimed the remaining chair at the far end next to Sukuna.

Great. Just great.

“So...” Sukuna spoke up. “Where's your boyfriend? Did you two finally break up?”

The man didn't even wait five minutes before causing problems.

“He's not my boyfriend.” you admitted, already annoyed.

“No?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Then what is he? Your best friend? A cousin? Your enemy? An acquaintance? Your fiancé? Future husband?”

The bastard was enjoying this. It was evident in his voice. You shot him a sour expression, irritated by how openly he was toying with you, but before you could retaliate another voice cut through the conversation.

“Sukuna, leave her alone.”

It was Choso’s.

“Alright, alright.” Sukuna huffed dramatically. “Just messing with you, sweetheart.” he leaned back into his chair. “You're no fun, Choso.”

The sound of drums suddenly echoed throughout the tent.

“Finally.” Yuki sighed happily.

A man emerged from behind the curtains dressed in black pants, a white button-up shirt, a golden corset, and a red jacket adorned with elaborate gold embroidery; a matching red tie rested around his neck while a black top hat completed the extravagant outfit. He strode confidently to the center of the stage, his smile bright and welcoming.

He stopped in the middle of the stage and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to the Magnific Travelling Cirque! We are honored to have each and every one of you here tonight.”

The crowd immediately erupted into cheers and applause. The man waited patiently, basking in the attention. He gave a small bow, removing his hat and pressing it against his chest before placing it back on his head.

“Yes, thank you, thank you! I am your gracious host, Antone Van Dusen—or just Tony for short, though only my friends call me that.” he grinned. 

A few people in the audience laughed.

“And by the end of tonight, I hope all of you will consider yourselves my friends. Now, during my extensive travels across this great land and many foreign lands beyond, I have searched for wonders unlike any others. Marvels that have left kings speechless, travelers bewildered, and entire crowds questioning whether what they witnessed was real or merely a dream.” he slowly paced across the stage, his voice carrying effortlessly through the tent. “I have crossed oceans, climbed mountains, wandered deserts, and traveled roads most sensible people would never dare step foot upon, all in pursuit of one goal: to bring the extraordinary to ordinary folk.” his grin widened. “And because every dreamer deserves a chance to witness the impossible, I have ensured that the price of admission remains delightfully affordable.”

Delightfully affordable he said. You almost snorted. As if you hadn't nearly fainted earlier when you saw the prices.

Antone continued without missing a beat. “And the show is held without profit to me. It's true! For it is blessing enough to bring these gifted artists to you.” he paused dramatically before continuing “I discovered this first act in a tiny village in Italy. When I found him I fed him, bathed him, rescued him, and shaved him from head to toe. He is truly a wonder to behold.” his voice rose. “Now presenting... Luigi Monti!”

Antone disappeared behind the curtains and seconds later music filled the tent. The curtains parted, revealing a mountain of a man. Muscles bulged from nearly every inch of his body. Just as Antone had claimed, the man appeared completely shaved except for his mustache. He wore only a thin blue-and-purple shirt and matching shorts.

In front of him sat a massive weight.

Luigi flexed his muscles proudly, drawing whistles and cheers from different parts of the audience. A few women giggled. The strongman soaked in the attention for a moment before spitting into his hands and rubbing them together.

The chatter throughout the tent died down. Everyone watched in silence.

Luigi bent down and grabbed the handles. At first nothing happened. Then slowly, very slowly, the weight began to rise. Veins bulged along his arms and neck while every muscle in his body strained beneath the effort. His entire frame trembled as he lifted it higher and higher, the heavy metal creaking slightly until it finally rested above his head.

The crowd exploded into cheering. Several people rose from their seats to clap.

Luigi grinned triumphantly before lowering the weight back down.

CRASH! 

The stage shook beneath the impact. The applauses only grew louder. Several workers hurried onto the stage pushing a tall machine covered in numbered markings with a bell mounted at the very top. Another worker dragged out a massive hammer that looked heavy enough to break a man's back.

Without hesitation Luigi grabbed it. The strongman swung the hammer over his shoulder and brought it down.

CRASH!

The plate at the bottom of the machine slammed downwards, launching a small metallic ball racing to the top. Everyone watched it ascend higher, higher, higher, until a DING echoed. The bell rang loudly throughout the tent. 

The audience continued with their cheering even more aggressive than before. Luigi raised both arms victoriously before finally bowing as the curtains closed in front of the man.

“Tch.” Sukuna clicked his tongue. “I could've done that myself.”

“No, you couldn't.” you clapped your hands.

“Wanna bet?”

Antone emerged from behind the curtains.

“Yes, yes! Truly a feat of incredibility!” he spread his arms wide. “I told you he would bring all manner of personal satisfaction. He certainly does for me...” he chuckled to himself. “But ladies and gentlemen, if you thought that was impressive, then prepare yourselves. Our next performer comes from the distant lands of Brazil and possesses a talent so extraordinary it borders on the impossible.” he lowered his voice dramatically. “She breathes fire.”

The crowd immediately stirred.

“Yes! Actual fire!” Antone pointed towards the curtains. “Presenting... Paola Jardim Clemente!”

A gorgeous woman wearing a flowing green dress stepped onto the stage. Two wooden sticks rested in her hands while a lantern burned brightly nearby. She lit one stick before using it to ignite the second.

The tent fell quiet, everyone seemed captivated.

Paola moved gracefully across the stage, spinning the flames through the air as though they were nothing at all. The fire danced around her hands, illuminating her face in shades of orange and gold. She passed the flames between her fingers, brought them close to her mouth, extinguished them, and reignited them moments later.

Her movements were elegant, hypnotic, like watching a dance and a magic trick at the same time.

The audience watched in amazement.

Then Paola grabbed a golden flask, took a drink from it, stepped into the center of the stage and exhaled. A massive stream of fire came from her mouth.

Gasps echoed throughout the tent. The flames illuminated everything around in brilliant shades before finally disappearing.

For a brief second nobody reacted, then the audience burst into thunderous applause. Even Toji, who barely reacted to anything, was cheering now.

“Wow.” Yuki stared at the stage in amazement. “She looks like a dragon. You know, from those storybooks people read to children.”

“She does.” you agreed. “She's amazing.”

Paola smiled and gave a bow before disappearing behind the curtains.

Almost immediately Antone reappeared. “Oh wonder! Incredible!” he fanned himself with his hat. “It's getting hot in here.”

Several audience members laughed.

“Well then, perhaps our next performers can cool things down. I discovered these remarkable twins in the mysterious lands of Yemen. Please welcome Mazhar and Marwa Mohammedi!”

The curtains opened for the third or fourth time. You stopped counting after the first. 

A woman dressed in pink danced across the stage with a massive snake draped around her shoulders. Next to her stood a man in red who looked nearly identical, a flute resting between his lips as he played a soft melody.

The snake moved alongside the music, or perhaps alongside the dancer. It was difficult to tell.

The twins danced around one another with practiced precision while the snake slithered across Marwa's arms and shoulders as though it too had rehearsed the performance. The music rose and fell alongside their movements, guiding every step and turn.

The audience watched in fascination. Some people leaned forward. Others looked mildly concerned every time the snake raised its head.

The music eventually slowed.

Mazhar—still with flute in hand—lowered himself besides a basket placed at the center of the stage while Marwa remained standing behind him. As the instrument continued playing, the snake slowly descended from her shoulders and lowered itself into the basket. The animal seemed to be hypnotized by the melody of the flute. 

The final note lingered through the tent. The audience applauded once more. The twins smiled and bowed, holding their hands together before disappearing in the curtains.

The show carried on for a while longer. Performers from different countries stepped onto the stage one after another, each bringing something different to the audience. Some made people laugh, others amazed them, and a few left the crowd scratching their heads wondering how such things were even possible. 

As the acts passed, the audience followed the same routine every time: watching in wonder, applauding once it was over, and eagerly waiting to see what would come next.

Antone stepped onto the stage once more.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, I know it has been quite a show, but I promise we have one final act. Unlike our previous performers who came from distant corners of the world, this next woman comes from here, the United States of America. Like me, she has traveled the world collecting stories, legends, and tales of the macabre. Stories that will leave every hair on your body standing at attention and send chills crawling down your spine. Please welcome Bee Bole.”

The curtains opened, revealing an elderly woman seated in a wooden chair with a book resting on her lap. Behind her stood a large white screen illuminated by dim lighting. Compared to the colorful performances before, the stage looked strangely simple. There were no exotic animals, no elaborate costumes, no giant props. Just an old woman and her book.

“Hello there, children,” she greeted warmly. “It's so nice for you all to join me tonight. Now I know you must all be exhausted after such a long day, so come closer and allow Auntie Bee to share some stories she gathered from all across the globe.”

The lights dimmed further. Behind her, shadows began appearing on the screen. Bare trees swayed in an invisible wind while their twisted branches stretched across the white canvas.

“This first story comes from a land not far from here. It comes from Méjico, as they call it over there... In the streets of Méjico there exists a legend about a woman.”

A shadow appeared with long hair and flowing dress. A lonely figure standing.

“The legend says Maria was once the most beautiful woman in town. Men admired her. Women envied her. Mothers pointed her out to their daughters and told them to grow up to be just like her.”

The shadow gracefully moved across the screen.

“And one day Maria got married.”

A second silhouette appeared next to hers.

“For a time she was happy. She had a husband, a home, and eventually two beautiful sons.”

Two smaller figures appeared before the couple.

“But happiness has a way of slipping through our fingers. Little by little, Maria began noticing things. Long absences. Broken promises. Strange perfume that did not belong to her.”

A fifth silhouette of another woman emerged in the far back. The man's shadow slowly turned away from Maria.

“Some say her husband betrayed her. Others say he abandoned her entirely. Whatever the truth may be, Maria's heart broke all the same.”

The shadows separated. Maria stood alone.

“Her grief turned to despair. Her despair turned to rage.” Bee's voice lowered. “And in that moment of madness, Maria committed an unforgivable sin.”

The two children appeared besides their mother.

“She led her sons to the river. And there...” Bee gave a dramatic pause. “She drowned them.”

The shadows struggled against the water. Splashes echoed throughout the tent. Then stillness.

“After realizing what she had done, Maria threw herself into the same river.”

The silhouette disappeared beneath the surface.

The atmosphere inside the tent shifted. A few people shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“Now her spirit wanders forever in search of her lost children.”

The shadow returned. Wrong. Twisted. Its once graceful figure now bent unnaturally.

“Mis hijos...” Bee whispered, her voice echoed softly throughout the tent. “Mis hijos... ¿Dónde están mis hijos?”

The ghostly figure stretched its arms outward. Searching. Begging.

Nobody spoke. A few awkward claps eventually sounded from somewhere in the audience while others exchanged nervous looks.

“Scary, I know.” Bee smiled. “But our next story comes from much farther away. A strange place called Japan.”

The moment she said it, something felt strange. A tension settled over the row, subtle yet impossible to ignore. You exchanged a brief glance with Yuki and judging by the confused look on her face, she seemed to feel it too.

“In these distant lands there exists a Yōkai. A demon.”

The shadows shifted to something new. A shrine appeared nestled among mountains. Then a woman. Pregnant.

“Long ago, during a terrible drought, a shrine maiden found herself carrying a child. Food was scarce. Crops withered beneath the sun. The rivers shrank. People starved.”

The audience listened quietly.

“Yet despite the suffering, the life inside her continued to grow.”

The silhouette rested a hand on her stomach.

“When the time finally came for the child to be born, everyone gathered to witness the miracle.” Bee paused. “But what came into the world that night was no miracle.”

The silhouette changed. Several people gasped as the shape slowly took form across the screen. Four arms. Two faces. Four eyes. A second mouth resting upon its stomach. The figure looked grotesque, something that should not have existed.

“Horror spread through the shrine.”

The monstrous infant stretched across the screen.

“The villagers called him cursed. An abomination. A monster sent to punish them.”

The child sat alone. Tiny. Isolated.

“The other children feared him.”

Several smaller silhouettes appeared before running away.

“Adults crossed the road to avoid him.”

More shadows turned their backs.

“Some prayed for his death. Others wished he had never been born at all. But monsters are not born believing they are monsters.”

The silhouette remained alone.

“They learn it.”

The child grew older.

“Day after day.”

Taller.

“Year after year.”

The figure continued changing.

“Until eventually the child becomes exactly what the world always insisted he was.”

The silhouette towered across the screen now. A man with four arms and two faces.

The crowd watched quietly.

“He ravaged villages. Murdered without mercy. Devoured those unfortunate enough to cross his path.”

The monstrous figure laughed. In one of its lower arms rested the silhouette of a crying infant.

“Men called him a demon. Women whispered his name in fear. Parents used stories of him to frighten misbehaving children.”

The figure continued growing larger across the screen.

“Years later, heroes finally defeated him. Yet legend tells the demon split his soul into twenty of his fingers before dying.”

The shadows shifted to a younger man holding one of the fingers.

“Whoever consumes them gains unimaginable power...”

The figure raised it to his mouth.

“But in return...” she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, “they become possessed by the King of Curses himself.”

The shadow swallowed the finger. Darkness consumed the screen. 

The tent remained completely silent. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the men seemed unsure whether they should be frightened or amazed. Only after several long seconds did applause begin spreading through the audience, hesitant at first before growing louder.

You turned your head. 

Sukuna sat perfectly still. His eyes remained fixed on the stage. The applause washed around him, yet he seemed not to hear any of it. The expression on his face was impossible to read. Not amused. Not bored. Not irritated. Just distant. For the first time since meeting him, he looked completely caught off guard.

Slowly you reached over and nudged his arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Huh?” his head snapped towards you so sudden it almost made you jump. For the briefest moment his eyes widened in what looked almost like fear before he realized who had spoken, then it disappeared just as quickly.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he swallowed hard.

“You seemed tense for a moment.” you smiled teasingly. “Don't tell me that story scared you. I bet none of it is real and just something somebody made up.”

“Sure...” he answered quietly.

You studied him for a moment longer. He still looked tense. His shoulders remained stiff against the chair while his jaw tightened ever so slightly. His breathing seemed shallower than before, and despite the air filtering through the tent, a bead of sweat rolled slowly down the side of his forehead. Maybe it was because of how crowded the tent had become. Maybe it was the heat from the lanterns. Maybe. Yet something about his reaction felt different.

Bee continued with her stories, telling tales of Baba Yaga, an old witch who lived deep within the forest, followed by the Headless Horseman and mischievous Poltergeists known for causing disturbances wherever they went. After that came the Banshee, a wailing spirit whose cries were said to foretell death before tragedy struck. The audience reacted much as they had throughout the evening, laughing, gasping, and occasionally shivering whenever a story became particularly unsettling.

Yet as the stories carried on, your attention drifted less and less towards the stage and more to the man sitting besides you. Every so often you'd glance in his direction, expecting him to have returned to his usual smug self. Instead, he remained unusually quiet, lost somewhere inside his own thoughts. He looked genuinely unsettled.

Soon later Bee’s stories came to an end and she closed her book, giving the audience one final smile. The crowd applauded politely, before the old woman stood from her chair and disappeared behind the curtains.

A minute later Antone returned to the stage.

“Well, that was Bee Bole. Hopefully you'll all be able to sleep soundly tonight.” he chuckled. “Be sure to check underneath the bed and inside your closets. Ahh, I'm just kidding with you. There are no such things as vengeful spirits, half-human sea creatures luring sailors to their doom with enchanting songs, and there are certainly not men turning into werewolves beneath the full moon.”

A few people laughed, others looked considerably less convinced.

“Well, that will be everything for today, folks. Thank you all for stopping by. Remember, we'll be hosting more performances tomorrow, so you're all welcome to return. For now, enjoy the rest of the circus!”

Antone bowed deeply. Behind him the curtains opened one last time, revealing the performers lined side by side. The audience applauded as every performer stepped forward and bowed together.

Slowly people began rising from their seats.

The tent immediately filled with random chatter. Conversations overlapped as people stood from their seats, gathered their belongings, and began making their way to the exit. One by one.

“Well that was amazing.” Yuki stretched her arms. “The fire lady was definitely my favorite.”

“The strongman.” Choso answered immediately.

“Of course you'd pick the strongman.”

“He was impressive.”

“He picked up heavy things.”

“Very heavy things.”

Yuki rolled her eyes.

You couldn't help laughing.

Next to you, Sukuna finally seemed to return to himself. The distant look that had haunted him during Bee's stories was gone, replaced once more by the familiar smug expression you'd grown accustomed to, or perhaps he was simply pretending.

“Ready to go?” Choso asked from the end of the row.

“Yeah.” Toji stood up first.

The rest of you followed shortly, joining the flock of people heading to the exits. 

The cool air greeted you the moment you stepped outside. Lanterns illuminated the fairgrounds as the laughter and music continued across the night. Some families were already heading home, but many others remained behind, determined to enjoy every last moment before the circus closed for the night.

You glanced back to the tent for a second. From the outside it looked harmless; colorful, bright, filled with wonder. Yet despite that, Bee's stories lingered stubbornly in the back of your mind. A monster born in a drought. Ancient curses. Hungry spirits.

You shook the story away. They were only tales …at least, that's what you told yourself as you followed the others deeper into the fairgrounds.

The five of you walked away from the giant tent. The circus felt just as alive as before, if not more so. Music drifted through the air while the colorful lanterns flickered to life around the various booths and attractions. 

“That was amazing!” Yuki exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, it was.” you smiled at her.

“I’ll probably come back tomorrow. The host mentioned they have more performances, so I’m curious to see what types of shows they’ll do next.”

You nodded. “Have fun, Yuki.”

“Bet I will. Hey, want to finish trying out those games?” she pointed at one of the booths farther down the street.

For a moment the offer was tempting, but you still had one last thing to do before leaving. You still needed to buy something for your father. One of those foreign pastries perhaps. It wasn't much, but at least it would allow him to enjoy a small piece of the fair despite being unable to attend himself.

“Uhhh, Yuki?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to go. It’s getting quite late and I don’t want to get home when the sun's fully gone.”

“Oh.” the excitement in her expression softened slightly. “Okay... I’ll see you later then. But hey...” she grabbed both your hands. “I had lots of fun with you today.”

You smiled warmly at her. “I did too.”

Neither moved, the sounds of the fair and cicadas carried on around. It had been a long time since you'd enjoyed yourself this much. 

Yuki gave your hands one last squeeze before finally letting go. “Well, I'll see you around.”

“See you around.”

With that, the two of you parted ways. You turned and headed back to the food stands while Yuki returned to Choso. 

The evening crowd had begun to grow thicker now, people stopping at booths with the same idea in mind; buy sweets and snacks before heading home.

You had barely made it halfway down the path when you heard it. The crunch of boots on dirt. At first you paid it no mind. It was a fair after all. Hundreds of people were wandering around. Of course there would be footsteps. Then it happened again. And again. Each time matching your pace almost perfectly. Your eyebrows furrowed. Maybe it was a coincidence. You slowed slightly. The footsteps slowed too. You sped up. They sped up. Now that was suspicious.

Stopping completely, you turned around only to find Sukuna standing a few feet behind you.

“Why are you following me?” you called out.

“I’m not.” he insisted without missing a beat.

“Hmmph...” you narrowed your eyes suspiciously before turning around and continuing down the path.

The footsteps followed again.

Deciding to ignore him, you continued. After looking through several options, you eventually settled on something simple. A pie. Large enough to divide between everyone back home—yourself, father, Kenai, and Elsu. Something small for everyone to enjoy together. Father would probably insist on giving away his slice to someone else, but that was exactly why you bought enough for everyone.

“Thanks.” you handed over the money to the vendor and accepted the small box containing the pastry.

And of course, standing directly behind you like some oversized bear, was Sukuna.

You sighed. “Why are you still following me?”

“I am not. I’m simply buying myself something to eat.” he stepped besides you and looked at the man sitting behind the stand. “A biscuit, please.”

The worker nodded and accepted the coins before handing him the pastry wrapped in a thin cloth. Sukuna immediately took a bite, crumbs sticking to the side of his face.

“So...” he chewed. “You taking that to someone or keeping it all to yourself?”

You exhaled. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m buying this for my father.”

As Sukuna spoke, your attention hovered elsewhere. Down at the end stood more familiar figures. Geto and Riko. Geto appeared occupied with whatever while Riko laughed. Not that she never laughed. She did, but usually only with him, however, this time was different. Toji was sitting at their table too and she was talking to him, laughing with him. Actually laughing. Willingly participating in the conversation with someone else besides Suguru. And from the looks of it, she seemed unusually talkative too.

How strange. Riko was rarely like that with anyone else, no matter how hard everyone else—you, Shoko, Utahime, Yuki, even Satoru and Yuta—tried. Still, it was nice seeing her like this. Maybe she was finally becoming more comfortable around other people. Maybe she was finally beginning to open up.

A voice suddenly interrupted.

“Hey. Are you listening to me?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his expression clearly annoyed that you had been ignoring him.

“Yeah, sorry.” you blinked. “Got distracted. What were you saying?”

You glanced back at the sky. The sun had lowered considerably now. Orange and pink painted the horizon while the first stars slowly began appearing overhead.

“Actually...” you adjusted the pie box in your hands. “Can you save it for another time? It’s getting late and I don’t want to be out after dark.”

Sukuna grinned. “Worried daddy’s gonna scold you for breaking curfew?”

“No.” your boot pressed harder into the dirt, dragging slightly as you shifted your weight. “Just don’t want to get back home so late.”

It wasn't entirely a lie, just not the whole truth. The real reason was much simpler… Naoya. For whatever reason, every unpleasant encounter seemed to happen around sunset or after. During the day he was usually occupied somewhere on the Zenin estate, but once evening came he suddenly appeared everywhere.

Sukuna studied you quietly. The way your heel dug into the dirt. The anxious shift of your posture. The furrow between your brows. The worry lingering in your eyes.

“And why’s that if he doesn’t mind?” Sukuna tilted his head. “After all, the real fun begins when the moon comes out. The town becomes a whole lot more interesting at night.” he chuckled softly, though from the sound of it he seemed to be talking more to himself than to you.

“I just don’t want to run into any trouble.” you admitted.

“Trouble.” he repeated, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Would this trouble happen to be a certain rich idiot with an ego so big it needs its own property deed?”

Despite yourself, a laugh escaped. “Could be talking about any other man with that description.”

Sukuna barked out another laugh. “Heh. Fair point.” his smile widened, revealing those unusually long upper canines. “But jokes aside,” his expression softened ever so slightly. “You want me to walk you home? Make sure you get there safe?”

“Oh.”

The offer caught you off guard.

You quickly waved a hand. “No, don’t worry. That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine. You should just stay here and enjoy yourself with your friends.”

He clicked his tongue. “Nah. It’s fine. I should probably get back home too. It’s getting late for me as well.” his eyes wandered briefly before returning to you. “So what do you say? Your house is on the way to mine anyways.”

“You know where I live?”

Sukuna froze tho only for a second, but you noticed.

“Uhhh...” he cleared his throat. “Saw you a few days ago when you were on a date with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. Stop saying that.” you stomped a foot against the ground.

Sukuna immediately laughed at the reaction. “Alright, alright. Just messing with you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. There was no way he had simply happened to see you. Not with how quickly that excuse came out of his mouth. Before you could question him any further, he stepped next to you and offered to grab his shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Without giving you time to argue, he guided you away from the fair and into the road leading back to town. Behind you, the circus continued buzzing with life. Slowly, the sounds began to fade the farther you walked away, leaving behind only the crunch of dirt and the presence of the infuriating man stubbornly walking you home.

The two of you walked from the outskirts of Whiskey Falls back into town. Night had begun settling over the valley, bringing with it the sounds of creatures emerging from their daytime hiding spots. Fireflies drifted lazily above the grass like tiny floating stars while an opossum froze the moment it heard approaching footsteps, collapsing dramatically onto its side and pretending to be dead. Somewhere high within the trees an owl hooted, its call echoing softly through the darkness.

It felt calm, serene. Your heart was at peace. 

Father was back home safe. Whatever horrors he had witnessed in Sourwater, whatever dangers he had faced during his journey, he had returned. That alone felt like a blessing.

Of course, he hadn't come back alone. Kenai and Elsu were strangers, but you found yourself trusting them surprisingly quickly. Perhaps because father trusted them too. Perhaps because they carried themselves like honorable men. It was refreshing after having to constantly deal with Naoya and his endless persistence.

Then there was Sukuna. You still didn't trust him, not completely. He was still new to town, still a stranger, and trust was not something you handed out freely. But despite that, you couldn't ignore the things he had done. The first night in the saloon he had seemed intimidating. Dangerous. The sort of man sensible people crossed the street to avoid. Yet after spending time around him, that image had begun to crack. Not disappear. Just crack.

He was still intimidating, still unsettling, but he'd also helped you. Twice now. First when Naoya had humiliated you in front of half the town. And now by stubbornly insisting on walking you home.

You cleared your throat. “Soooo, what made you decide to come to Whiskey Falls?”

Sukuna glanced sideways. “Heard it was a comfortable town. Peaceful. Quiet.”

“And do you like it?” you asked, holding the box.

“Hmm.” he scratched his jaw. “So far, yeah. Few vermin running around here and there, but nothing we can't tolerate.”

“Ahh, I see.”

The road stretched ahead beneath the growing moonlight.

“What’s your story with those two other men?”

“Toji and Choso?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing special.” Sukuna shrugged. “Just good friends of mine. Known them for a long time.” his eyes shifted to look at you. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing.” you shuffled slightly. “Just curious. We're neighbors now, right? Should probably get to know each other better.”

“Right...” Sukuna smirked. “But enough about me. What's your story? Or rather, what's the story with lover boy?”

You immediately rolled your eyes. “Naoya? It's nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Guess he has a thing for me or something. I don't know and honestly I don't care enough to ask. I don't like him.”

“Seems pretty smitten to me.” Sukuna chuckled.

“You know, for someone who threw the man into the mud, you seem a little obsessed with him.”

That shut him up immediately.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes. “I am not.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just think it's pathetic how hard he tries.”

You laughed softly. “Sure.”

The glare he sent you only made you laugh harder.

Before long the familiar outline of your home came into view. Relief immediately settled in your chest and your pace quickened. The pie box tightened in your arm as you hurried up the front steps.

Just as your hand reached for the door, it opened. Josiah stepped outside. The worry on his face disappeared the second he saw you.

“Daughter.” he exhaled heavily. “Thank the Lord. I was beginning to worry, especially after what you told me before.”

“I’m okay, pa.” you stepped forward and kissed his cheek. “Here. I got sweets for you and your friends to share.”

You handed him the box.

Josiah smiled warmly. “That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you.” his eyes moved past your shoulder, the smile faded.

You turned around.

Sukuna had stopped a few feet away.

Neither man spoke. Neither smiled. Neither looked away. It felt strangely similar to watching two wolves sizing each other up.

“Father,” you said, oblivious to the tension. “This is Sukuna. Sukuna, this is my father.”

The silence lingered another second before Sukuna removed his hat.

“He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, I'm Ryomen.”

Father Clarke accepted it, his grip remained firm. “Father Clarke.”

Their handshake lasted a second longer than necessary.

“Father Clarke, eh?” Sukuna tilted his head slightly. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” his smile never quite reached his eyes. “Everybody speaks highly of you. How your sermons make people cry. How you always know exactly what to say. Seems the whole town looks up to you.”

“Nothing to boast about. I'm simply doing the Lord's work as He commands.”

“How...” Sukuna paused. “Admirable.”

“Yes…” Father Clarke continued “My daughter tells me you're new in town.”

“That's right.”

“Settling in alright?”

“Can't complain.” Sukuna smiled. “People have been very welcoming.”

“I'm glad to hear that. Whiskey Falls is a quiet place. We don't get many newcomers, just visitors and travelers here and there.”

“That's exactly why I came.”

The priest's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” Sukuna placed his hat back atop his head. “After a while you get tired of moving around. Sometimes a man starts looking for somewhere he can finally settle down.”

Father Clarke remained silent for a moment. “Most people come here looking for peace.”

“That's the idea.”

“Then I pray you find it.”

The smile never left Sukuna's face. “I appreciate that.”

Something felt odd. Not in a rude or hostile way. It felt… strange. The way they looked at one another. The way neither seemed willing to break eye contact.

Father Clarke folded his hands together. “Have you traveled much, Ryomen?”

“A little.”

“A little?”

“Here and there.”

“Interesting.” the priest nodded. “Traveling teaches a man many things.”

“It does.”

“Sometimes things he'd rather not know.”

“That's certainly true.” Sukuna chuckled.

The silence that followed felt heavier.

“Father...” you laughed awkwardly.

Neither man reacted.

Father Clarke continued. “Well, regardless, everyone's welcome in Whiskey Falls.”

“That's good to hear.”

“Though I always tell newcomers the same thing.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

The priest's expression remained pleasant. “Secrets have a way of surfacing in small towns.”

Sukuna's grin immediately sharpened, not widened, sharpened. “Do they?”

“Eventually.”

“Guess that's true everywhere.”

“Perhaps.”

The two men continued staring at each other. You suddenly felt very aware of how quiet everything had become.

Then Sukuna spoke. “Good thing I don't have many secrets.”

Father Clarke smiled, it was the kind of warm reassuring smile he used during confessions. The one that never revealed what he was truly thinking.

“Of course.” Father Clarke sighed. “Well, I hope you find what you're looking for.”

“I already have a few things in mind.”

Something about the answer made the hairs on the back of Father Clarke's neck stand up. You, however, remained blissfully unaware.

You laughed awkwardly again, stepping between the two men before the strange tension could continue any longer.

“Well... we should probably get inside. Thank you for walking me home, Sukuna. It was really nice of you.”

Sukuna's expression softened the moment his eyes landed on you. “Please. Ryomen is fine.” then his gaze briefly shifted towards Father Clarke, only for a moment. “And if Naoya ever bothers you again, don't hesitate to reach out.”

“Okay.” you smiled.

Sukuna placed his hat back on his head and turned away. The darkness seemed to swallow him the farther he walked down the road. Fireflies drifted lazily through the grass while a thin veil of mist rolled between the buildings.

You stepped inside and closed the door, immediately you were greeted by Mary wagging her tail excitedly while Gabriel rubbed against your legs demanding attention. Kenai and Elsu sat near the table talking quietly amongst themselves. The smell of dinner floated throughout the house.

For you, the day was finally over. For Father Clarke, it felt as though something had only just begun.

His eyes lingered on the door long after Sukuna had disappeared into the darkness. The conversation replayed itself inside his mind. Every word. Every smile. Every glance.

...Perhaps the old man was simply being paranoid after everything he had seen in Sourwater. Yet deep down, a feeling settled heavily in his chest. The same feeling he had experienced standing inside that abandoned church where Father Bell's remains were left abandoned.

Something was wrong.

Dividers by: @\viviansturns

Taglist: @ihavesomuchswag @typeobitch @sukuana @shanana-banana15 @imaginemoons @sukunascumdumpsterr @ejk31 @jenuinne @fudogh @imagine-lx2 @milessmoralessfr @aynaxuv @uh-pria @grimm3r @mruizsworld

The mattress dipped next to your head. A cool, scarred palm pressed against your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back with a click of the tongue. Suguru. He’d started his mother-hen routine as soon as you’d admitted (stupidly, in hindsight) to feeling a little sick and had yet to give it up. Part of it must’ve been nostalgia. His daughters were in their late teens. It’d been years since he’d had anything soft and vulnerable to dote on. But, as you glared at him through watery eyes, you would’ve sworn there was something else there. An edge. A shadow. The slightest, barest hint of anger that there was anything on this planet that could hurt you other than him.

But then you blinked at it was gone, replaced by stoic neutrality as he snatched a bottle off the bedside table and twisted off the childproof cap. You felt something pressed being pressed against your lips and pursed them tighter, in response. Suguru sighed.

“It’s just medicine, sweetheart.”

 Yeah, right. You’d heard that one before.

Your voice was all grit. Driveway gravel lubricated with battery acid and strained through a sandpaper funnel. “…label.”

Suguru rolled his eyes, but handed the bottle over anyway. You forced yourself to sit up, lasting just long enough to scan over the bold-font logo and excessive use warnings that you would be gleeful ignoring before collapsing back onto your pillow and letting Suguru place the pill on your tongue. It tasted like chalk and misery, which was somehow still better than the god-awful herbal tea he gave you to help swallow.

Meanwhile, Satoru watched it all, unmoving and unblinking. He tended to do that whenever Suguru was pampering you – forget he was part of scene and relegate himself a silent, observant feature of the background. He only came back to himself when you sniffled, ducking your head to sneeze into your comforter. A smile pulled at the edges of his lips, one of his hands reaching up to ghost over the curve of your jaw. “You’re kind of hot like this. All helpless and whiney, I mean.”

He moved to cup your chin. Suguru caught his wrist. “Don’t even think about it.”

“That’s not fair,” he pouted. “How come som virus gets to be inside of her and I can’t?”

This question was swiftly and mercifully deemed too stupid to answer. Suguru pushed himself to his feet and Satoru sighed languidly, flopping onto the bed next to you. “It’s not like I’ll catch anything. World’s Strongest Sorcerer, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t get sick, idiot.”

“But what if it doe—”

You cut him off with a conveniently timed coughing fit. The ugly type – prolonged and hacking, forceful enough to leave you panting while your throat burnt. Satoru grinned. Before Suguru could stop him, he threw himself into you and licked a long stripe over your open mouth, then laughed as you groaned and swatted him away.

“See?” he asked, smirking at Suguru. “Nobody died.”

Suguru responded by pitching the bottle of pills at his co-kidnapper, nailing Satoru in the head with enough force to crack the plastic.

​Ky Luc views everything around him as a stage for his amusement and his favourite playthings are your emotion but he doesn’t pull the strings too hard afterall he does value what he loves. He finds human emotions fascinating, love, compassion, pain, anger and everything in between. He finds human jealousy much more entertaining especially yours as it just proves how consumed you are of him even though you claim to hate your captivity by him. Ky Luc doesn’t do anything by accident, everything he does is preplanned and he knows which buttons to push to get under your skin.

You're flipping through the pages of a novel Ky has got you this week, the crackle of the fire is the only thing cutting through ky's bedroom when suddenly a knock came on the door. You looked up at it and Ky was alreasy moving to welcome the guest inside. Who could be coming here? A noble vampire woman comes in, silky hair, beautiful features, tall and composed. "Ah, My Lord, sorry of being a bother to you at this hour" she bows to him,"Thats quite fine M'Lady, come in" you thought that this was a space reserved for you exclusively? Well thats what he said anyways.

She walks to the mahogany desk in the corner of his room and bends over to spread out a scroll she was holding, it seemed to be a map of the city although you couldn’t tell. "Acute observation you have there" he says, his voice smooth as velvet, "Perhaps I've underestimated your skills" She flushes, a pink hue reaching her cheeks, "I only wish to be of greater use to you, My Lord" she gave a small chuckle. Your throat tightened and heat flares inside your chest. You hate his captivity and want nothing to do with him so why do you feel this way for him?

Why does the casual tilt of his head praise for her makes you want to rip him apart? You put up your leg up on the other and placed the book in your lap while leaning back into the luxurious couch while supporting your head with your hand while resting your elbow on the armrest while the other hand flipped through the pages you both knew you weren’t reading because you are far too engrossed in their conversation.

He handles a stack of document and intentionally brushes his fingers with hers, "You've done well tonight, sit with me while I look over these files, won't you?" Thats it, that was the last straw. The audacity of this man enrages you. You closed your book with a thud before the noble woman could reply. She didn’t look at you but Hy looked at you almost instantly, "I'm going to bed" you say calmly. "But the night is so young, my love?" he says as he raises a dismissive hand towards the noble,"You may leave now, we are done for tonight" he says, his eyes boring into your soul.

The girl bows and gives you an arrogant look as she walks past the door. He walks towards you and stands right infront of you. "Move" you say blatantly, "Now why would I do that?" he asks with amusement plasteres on his face. He steps in closer and kneels infront of you, both his hands on your knees,"You look ravishing when you're angry, tell me what has spoiled my love's mood so bad?" You furrowed your brows giving him an irritated look,"Dont pkay dumb Ky" you said as you grabbed on of his hands and pushed it away from your knee,"Go back to your little assistant, she was more than willing to keep you comapny for the night" you said in an annoyed manner.

He let out a delighted laugh as he covered his face by resting his head on your thighs, his laugh vibrating against your skin. He lifts his head in front of your face,"There it is, you're jealous" he states, his breath hitting your face,"You claim to not like the cage I trapped you in but you can't stand the sight of anyone inside it either. You just love me so much, dont you?" "I'm not jealous" you insist, when he presses his lips on yours and gives a feather light kiss. He kneels back down to his original position,"Lying doesn’t suit your face my love" he continued,"You claim to want nothing to do with me, yet the moment I pay attention to someone else you practically want to kill me" his voice is a mix of softness and amusement. "She brushed her fingers against yours and she was so close" he smirk widens,"And if looks could kill I would be dead at that moment"

"And I have to admit, it was all fun and games but it was only to appease my twisted desires of seeing you jealous for me. She was just a tool to bring you closer to me" he admitted to his work and he had already planned to execute her in the next morning. She had already served her greater usefulness to Ky and it would be a waste of blood to keep her alive. You were still looking at him with a displeased face. "Oh my sweetheart", he cupped your face and brought it towards his. "I assure you there's no woman out there that I would enjoy other than you" he kisses you again softly and this time you give him the privilege of being kissed.

You don’t believe a word he says, but you knew the food wasn’t poisoned. Why would they go through all this trouble of locking you away to just kill you? You simply rejected the food because you were spoiled.

Living with Sukuna made you realize the finer aspects of life: Delicious food prepared by his chef, sweet wines and tender meat. You highly doubt you could confidently say you enjoyed Sukuna’s company, but you appreciated his culinary taste.

The sludge melting in the tray could hardly count as food. It was a meal fit for swine.

“So what plans do you have for me, if it isn’t the guillotine?”

He laughs, squatting down to meet your eyes.

“Did that monster fuck you dumb?” He goads. “I think you can figure it out.”

You already know. You are the sole concubine of the greatest calamity to ever consume your country. There was worth within you. These people looked to exploit that.

It was a good plan, unfortunately for them, it would backfire.

“We already sent your ransom to the King.” He spits the word out with vile and you can taste the hatred that lurks beneath his tongue.

“Hopefully he’ll make a proper payment before we send him his whore’s fingers.”

There was a history of resentment behind his eyes. A charred family, a burned village. Another crime Sukuna would never pay for. But since Sukuna wasn’t here to answer them, he directs that resentment towards you.

He burned your village too, you want to say, but your words wouldn’t matter to this man. He considers you a perpetrator since you chose to spread your legs rather than burn with the rest.

You can’t fault him for thinking that way.

You examine your hands. “It’d be a waste of fingers. He won’t answer to any ransom.”

The King of Curses cares only for himself. By now, he’s probably found another one to warm his bed. You were nothing if not replaceable.

“For your sake, you pray he does.” The man warns.

He leaves you in that cell and the door slams shut behind him. You glance at the tray he failed to take. In a few minutes, the rats would scarf it down. It hardly mattered to you.

This is where you would die. Whether you would be killed or slowly starve to death, forgotten.

Something tightens in your heart. Your eyes burn. Something’s stuck in your throat.

A part of you is happy with your tears. For years, you assumed you didn’t have any left.

It proves you’re still human.

~

You wake up to smoke.

Faint. Far away. It’s a familiar scent—one that’s plagued your nightmares for years and years.

You can hear screaming too. You can’t make out the words but you can hear the fear in their voices.

Lift yourself off the dirty cell floor. You shift forward, trying your hardest to pick up on whatever calamity was attacking your captors.

Eventually, that calamity finds you.

The door doesn’t so much as open as it does falter. The metal creaks and falls as he pushes through like it’s made of paper.

You stare at his two sets of arms, his bare chest, and those red eyes. You blink once, then twice.

It’s not a mirage.

“You came?” You can only ask.

Sukuna only glances around your cell. He eyes the floor in disgust.

“You reek.” He gruffs out, but his hands don’t hesitate as he lifts you up into his arms.

You’re pliant in his grasp, letting him bring you into his chest. Out of pure exhaustion, you rest your head on his warm shoulder. The scent of fire clings onto him.

Sukuna walks out of the cell in confident strides. You force yourself to peek out to see the destruction he caused.

Fire looms everywhere. You can see what used to be bodies, half burned on the floor. He’d come alone and yet he’d done enough damage to destroy a city.

You can’t bring yourself to look anymore and you bury your head back into his shoulder.

“Uraume will guard you from now on,” Sukuna says. “Disciplining the lowers is a pain.”

Uraume shouldn’t have to guard you at all because you are not supposed to return. Sukuna wasn’t supposed to bring you back. He was supposed to forget your existence entirely and move onto another poor soul to torture. You should be dead.

Subconsciously, your hand grips his bicep.

“Why…did you come back for me?”

For minutes he doesn’t respond. He continues his walk until you’re back outside. The sky is bright and blue, clashing with the fire that singes the trees. He must have burned down the entire forest. Whether it was out of rage or something else, you couldn’t be sure.

“I cannot allow anyone to break what’s mine,” he finally tells you. “It’s an insult.”

You close your eyes as he continues to walk back to his estate. You can hear his smile through his next words.

Urd Geales

He views humans as livestock but he ensures that livestock are used in a proper way with zero wastage. As his lover he sometimes likes to feed from you as it is an intimate act.

When he realises that your blood is leaving your body too fast and your pulse has dropped abruptly as well as all the colour in your face has faded he detaches immediately. He is deeply annoyed, not at you but at himself for not realising sooner and miscalculating your physiological limits.

Urd does not panic nor feel guilt, those are for lower beings. He prides himself in flawless executions of a task and the fact that he messed up this simple feeding utterly disappoints him. And damaging his chosen woman is an unacceptable error on his part. And you are now classified as a "high risk fragile asset". This incident does not stop him from feeding from you from time to time because he wants the intimateness from feeding off of you.

So aftercare from him is total bed rest, he will not let you stand up. If you need the bathroom he's right there, ask him to bring you there. He will order the maids to prepare high glucose fluids like sweet juices and iron rich foods to help your recovery. And if you complain about having to stay in bed all day he will take his work papers and rest on the headboard of the bed and have your head on his chest as he works. He isn't bothered by this, he considers this as extra bonding time.

Ky Luc

Ky Luc would be happily humming and feeding on you when suddenly he realises that your body has gone limp and when he looks at you he sees that your blood rushed to him far too fast compared to a standard feeding. "Oh? Uh-oh" he pulls back completely, his trademark smirk gone from his face. He's wide eyed and feeling panic, "Please don't die". He has never experienced draining a human dry because of strict rules of Urd about a human should be fed on and he has no clue about what to do now.

He feels genuine guilt as you were his favourite company in all of his life and he didn't mean to break his favourite human like this. He scoops you up into his arms and places you on the bed while he frantically fetches the sweetest things he can find like cookies, juice and anything really and it takes him some time because he's in the vampire world you can't just find actual human food here. So he panics more thinking that you might die if he takes too long. He force feeds you pastry and all the sweet things he has gathered even though you aren't responding much and not swallowing either. His panic grows but slowly when you regain some strength and you start eating he's finally able to mask his panic with his smirk again.

He chats with you a lot more than usual to keep you awake while you're regaining your consciousness and safe to say he will be prepared next time before feeding to take care of you if something like this happens again.

Ferid Bathory

Ferid is a manipulative, theatrical eccentric sadist who thrives on unpredictable situations but your sudden crash presents a unique problem to him.

When your blood floods into him at 2x speed he will be delighted with the velocity and taste until he starts feeling you go limp and heavy on his lap. He doesn't feel guilt in the traditional way but he doesn't like that he played too harshly with his toy. Internal panic strikes him because he actually values you and he is irritated about how human biology is so fragile. He will mock your fragility, "My my..what a delicate thing you are" but underneath the mocking he wants to lock you up and study how much you can take before you break.

despite his words earlier that week, he quickly ate them. sasha knows he's not a good man, maybe worse them all. at least with the other three they are upfront with their awfulness. sasha was insecure and manipulative. he wanted your trust and he pretend to be the good guy to gain your favor, but the line had been crossed again.

"emil, stop," he said so hopelessly.

the large man ignored him. emil had a tight grip on your hair and dug your nose into the ground like a bad dog. his breath was hot on your cheek as he growled, "all you do is make messes."

you sobbed and howled, your nose throbbed from the pressure. all you wanted was to be left alone but emil snuck up behind you. he startled you so bad that the food you were holding launched out of your hands, hitting both him and the floor. emil took it as a personal attack. you ruined the food so graciously made for you and all you do is bitch and moan. he clamped a hand on the back of your neck and squeezed the sides. your lips were tingling.

"she said she was sorry," sasha spoke more harshly, but emil was on a warpath. "emil, she can't fucking breathe."

"what? can't handle the heat, sasha?" emil sneered, not letting you go. "you should be grateful, this could be you instead."

those words woke him up. he really couldn't handle the heat, this was too much. this was no longer fun. right before his eyes, you were dying or maybe you were dead the second aleks saw you in the bar. you were a corpse they were dragging along, pulling the strings to make you dance.

aleks' voice rung in his head, *be a fucking man.*

so sasha, later that night brought you to the bathroom and cleaned up the blood that poured from your nose, dripping down into your busted lip. the overhead light sung and buzzed. he cradled your face and your blank eyes dazed off to somewhere sasha was scared he couldn't follow.

"if we do this, we have to be smart about it," he broke the silence.

your eyes slide over to him and the question was apparent on your face.

sasha swallowed before continuing, "what we talked about before. it can't be on a whim. there needs to be a plan and a back up plan upon back up plan. if we do this and get caught, that's it. there will be no hope for either of us."

"i'm ready for the consequences, are you?" you said in response.

you already knew damn well what happened the first time you escaped the aftermath. but sasha was never the victim of any of their grief riddled ire, if anything he was the perpetrator. vindictive to how you left him to their devices.

it happened weeks later after excessive planning. every possible route was planned, while everyone was asleep you had popped all the tires to the car, truck and sil's motorcycle.

you had been your night with sasha. you hadn't slept in your own bed since the first weekend being here. everyone took turns whisking you off to their bedrooms for the night, sometimes to actually sleep but not often. sasha had been your only reprieve among the four.

no one questioned as sasha took you to his bedroom, the only one that sat downstairs. you both watched the clock, each minute a century. by four am, the cabin settled. everyone had been asleep. neither of you spoke as sasha slide his window open. he crawled out first, he sneakered feet hitting the ground with a puff of dirt.

he reached out a hand towards you and you stared for a moment. sasha watched back, his eyes drinking up you backlit by the blue tint of his computer screen. your face pinched in determination but your eyes reflected just how depressed you were. you never looked so beautiful.

inhaling a shaky breath, you nodded your head more to yourself than to him. grabbing his hand, you jumped. kicking up more dirt, you ducked low. sasha reached upwards and shut his window. staying low, you both avoided where the lights were and the windows. going to the front, sasha grabbed his own motorcycle as you sliced into each tire.

done, you went back to him. biting his lip, sasha narrowed his eyes and began wheeling his motorcycle down the dirt driveway. you stayed to his side and neither of you spoke. your spine tingled in the need to run. it all felt to easy.

clutching onto yourself, you refused to turn back. you two walked to the edge of the path and took a right. moonlight guided you both. flashlights were out of the question and sasha left his phone in his room. harder to be tracked with nothing to track.

after a half mile, sasha revved his engine to life.

well, he tried. the motorcycle sputtered and puffed out fumes. his key jittered in the ignition.

"what the fuck?" sasha barked.

"what is going on?" you frantically asked. your shoulder scrunched upwards as your head was on a swivel.

he tried to turn the key again but nothing happened besides the clanking a stalled engine. "i-i don't know. it won't fucking start."

"did you forget to put gas in it?"

"there's fucking gas in it!" sasha growled, but you saw how his hands shook. he wasn't angry, he was scared.

"we have to abandon it."

"and do what, y/n? fucking trek 12 miles back to civilization?"

"yes! i don't know," you tugged on your hair. this wasn't in the plan. you can't go back. "i can't go back."

sasha kicked the wheel in frustration.

you shook your head as hysteria kicked up in your lungs. you were a cornered animals. "i c-can't go back. sasha, i can't. i will *die*." you sobbed and cupped your mouth to silence your own spiral.

"hey, hey, calm down," sasha pushed his kickstand down and came to hug you. "we can walk, let's walk. nothing changes."

deep in his arms, you nuzzled into his shoulder. nodding in agreement, you break away and reach for his hand. clutching onto you, he abandoned the bike and you both started your long journey.

a car rumbled behind you.

you both froze. your neck creaked to slowly look behind you. your eyes squinted from the headlights blinding you. reaching a hand up to cup over your eyes, you glared back. there, sat in the middle of the street was a cherry red impala. aleks sat in the driver's seat, visibly seething. the fucking psycho was driving on slashed tires.

"w-we need to go," you squeaked and tugged on the hand shackling you.

sasha stared like a deer ready to meet its fate. but you weren't going to lay down and take it.

"sasha!" you screeched, "fucking run!"

kicked into gear, he followed behind you, not letting go as you run into the welcoming abyss of the tree line. the headlights chased you both until the there was nowhere else to drive.

a car opening and slamming rung into the air. your shadows run before you, the headlights a beacon to your whereabouts.

"you're both fucking dead!" aleks screeched. you have never heard him so pissed.

this was stupid, so fucking stupid. you cried and just ran. sasha wouldn't let you go. pulling you from the light, he embraced the camouflage of the brush. footsteps stomped from behind.

there was no longer a destination, only survival. make it to whatever stream there was and follow it down until you hit any town. maybe you can take a bus or haul a cab or maybe hitchhike. less likely to be kidnapped if you and sasha stuck together. you could only think of an after, not a now. now felt so hopeless.

tugging you to the side, sasha tucked you deep in a thorn bush. you winced with each prick. he stepped to follow.

"get back here!" aleks cut in, closer than wanted.

snapping his head to the noise, sasha paused with pinched brows. turning back, he raised his pointer finger over his mouth. nodding in understanding, you watched as he smiled and shot up. running to the left, sasha directed aleks away from you.

scooting further into the thorns, you slapped a hand over your mouth. tilting your head, you listened closer. both of their footsteps were too far to hear now. silence had never been so deafening. each snap of a twig or rustling of the branches had you flinching.

your eyes drunk up the shadowy figures, adjusted to the darkness. it could have seconds or hours, but you stayed right where you were.

"find you."

you screamed so loud your own ears throbbed. a hand grabbed your ankle and tugged you out from the bush. thorns scrapped and embedded themselves into your arms and legs. you yelped as one cut right under your eye. kicking and grasping the dirt, blood stained the earth. hands clutching onto the willowy branches, you cried to stay inside the cocoon.

"no, no, no," you begged and bargained.

rocks and fallen twigs dug into your torso. taking your other ankle, your captor flipped you on your back. scared to look, you blindly punched and push into the air. you wailed and pleaded, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, let me go. please, please!"

"knock- knock it off!" he gathered your arms and pushed your wrists into the soil. straddling your hips, you were rendered completely immobile.

"sasha! sasha! help me, sasha!" you screeched.

your head whipped to the side. cheek burning, you were efficiently silenced with a firm slap. crumpling, all you could do is cry as aleks bracketed you.

"where's sasha, what did you do to him." the words wobbled out, terrified for what he will say.

"let me go! you fucking asshole, let me go!" sasha's voiced answered your question. tugged back to you, emil had sasha's arm twisted behind his back.

you whimpered and tried to tug free once more. likened to a mouse in a trap, you struggled against the bar snared around your ankle.

"i fucking knew something was up with you two," aleks growled in face, "but i didn't think you would betray us like this."

"fuck you!" sasha bellowed.

his head snapped towards sasha. "i expected it from her, but you sasha? after all we have done for you, you do this?"

"you're all fucking insane. i'm tired- we are tired of your bullshit."

aleks nodded with a pout, "i see. so this was your idea?"

sasha opened his mouth but you cut him off, "no! no, it was all me. please don't hurt him, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry aleks, don't hurt him."

"did i say you could fucking talk?"

you snapped your teeth shut with a click. nostrils flared, your wide pupils watched his own dark eyes bobble in rage.

"aleks, please don't," sasha begged, still struggling against emil.

"you need to learn your place, sasha, maybe this time it will stick."

emil kicked behind sasha's knee. he crumpled downwards. grabbing the back of his hair, emil kept his head up. "you're gonna wanna see this."

shifting his weight, aleks sat full on your stomach. releasing your left arm, he tucked it your side. knees digging into you, you were immobile. right wrist still in his grasp, his thumb stroked your inner wrist. the blood pumped faster beneath his digit.

"do you remember when you broke your wrist when you were seventeen?"

you nodded your head, body shaking.

"you were so funny. you didn't even cry when it snapped only when you found out you had to wear a cast. it made you feel claustrophobic if i remember correctly."

"aleks," you squeaked.

"let's test that pain tolerance."

your screech disturbed the air. wailing you tugged your snapped wrist from his hold but it only offset the bone more. thrashing your head, your feet kicked from the pain. eyes wide, everything tunneled.

"stop! stop, you're fucking batshit, aleks! you hear me? you're fucking crazy," sasha yelled, but your own screams drowned him out.

aleks got off you, letting you crumple into fetal position. you cradled your throbbing arm deep into your belly, crying into the dirt.

walking over to sasha, he kneeled down and clamped onto his jaw. tugged him nose to nose, aleks welcomed sasha's teary eyed glare.

"is it sticking?"

sasha spit. aleks stayed still and grinned sharp and wide.

"do you feel like a man? finally stood up just to be reminded how weak you are." pulled his head to look at you, aleks seethed, "this is your fault. remember that."

Given Ky Lucs position as a high ranking progenitor it is quite difficult to get him to be mad at you. He is a creature of immense power, ancient boredom and aristocrat embedded within him. He views humans as livestock and fleeting amusement. But when it comes to you his yandere tendencies manifest in the form of control, obsession, possessiveness wrapped in a deceptive layer of playfulness. Making him genuinely angry requires you to threaten his superiority over you, ownership over you and to break the illusions he created to keep you compliant with him.

If you attempt to seek appeal from another progenitor like Krul or Urd or even Lest Karr for protection and security elsewhere his possessiveness will turn into a lethal fury. He views you as his exclusive property and lover and the fact that you imply that another vampire can protect you better than him or that you belong near another noble vampire's court insults him and hurts his pride and power. And he is not one to back down on things like this and he will violently assert his power in front of you with any vampire who shows even the slightest of interest in you, showcasing that no one can protect you the way he can or rip you away from him.

For a yandere progenitor blood sharing is something very intimate and somewhat symbolises ownership over bloodbags but he considers you as his lover and uses you as his bloodbag. But he doesn't use you in the manipulative way, just to quench his thirst once a while and he takes care of you after so no worries. But god forbit if he saw you giving your blood willingly to anothet vampire it will shatter his calm exterior. If you fight him while he feeds on you while willingly offering blood to someone else or you offer it to save them or out of affection his jealousy will burn like hell and he will make the person suffer an agonizing slow and painful death and make you watch it to make you feel guilty and never do such things again.

But dont think this means he'll go easy on you, he will drain you dry till the brink of losing consciousness as a punishment.

Your physical body is a prized possession and he will take meticulous care to ensure its healthy and never malnutritioned. He sometimes will let you starve as a punishment due to disobedience but if you dare use that against him by willfully starving until he gives into your whims he will turn to force feeding by restraining you and remind you how you're in his custody now and your body is no longer yours to damage and he will do whatever he sees fit with it.

Ky luc is incredibly possessive of his old age relics and weapons including his first class noble sword. If you are foolish enough to sneak and use his own weapons against him by threats of hurting him or hurting yourself it will ignite a reaction of disbelief and anger within him. It doesn't take him long to disarm you effortlessly and pinning you down and mocking your futile and pathetic attempt at violence. And he will drill the lesson into you that you are powerless against him no matter what.

If Ky Luc executes your old friends or people you had affection for infront of you and you genuine grief and affection for them by pleading for their lives, weeping openly, gathering their body on your lap and kissing their still face it will infuriate him. He wants to execute in front of you to make you feel guilty but when you show such grief and love towards others especially lowly humans it makes his blood boil. He demands for your eyes to only look at him with such affection and love, he wants you to cry in concern for him, not those unworthy filths. He wants to be the sole author of your joy, grief, tears and every emotion that can be found within you.

Ky Luc possesses a massive ego and likes to be the center of attention of your world. If you ever compare his strength or abilies to a stronger progenitor like Lest Karr or Urd geales or even note how the kindness of a human is much more than his could ever be, his ego takes a hit. And he gets aggressive to demonstrate how no other progenitor or human could be as merciful and protective as he is towards you. He will make sure that he is the only being you think of as superior.

If you spend days, weeks, months being sweet with him, accepting the cage of a life you lived in and overall be a very obedient and loving girl only to slip past his security one day in attempts of escape or posin him even if it would have no affect on him or just simply do something that would break his trust on you he becomes infuriated and sorrowful aswell. He doesn't like that he can't have someone love him for the way he is and he doesn't even want someone he wants YOU and is that really too much to ask for in this miserable immortal life? He punishes you surely but he doesn't trust your affection anymore and sometimes when he feels very bad he tries to forget everything and believe your lies only to feel loved for even a minute.

The ultimate trigger of Ky Luc is that you would rather embrace absolute nothingness rather than exist in his world. If he catches you in an act where you actively try to end your life by provoking attacks from him or leathal injury from which he can't heal you his sarcastic smile and calm facade will face, replaced by panic and anger. And once he saves you, his fury is unparallel. He strips you of everything on you and every inch of privacy and keeps you locked up in a wing of the palace only he could go to and the room is so simple that there is absolutely no items that you could use as a weapon nor a window through which you could escape. And he effectively turns you into a living doll only for his eyes, only to listen to his words, only to be touched by him. Well once you regain his trust maybe some of your privacy may be returned to you.