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Summary: choso starts coming home quieter than usual. sukuna notices first.
Warnings: bullying (school setting), teen violence, protective sibling dynamics, emotional themes, hurt/ comfort, family conflict, sukuna being sukuna, slight angst
Part 1 part 2
The house always felt different after ten oâclock.
Quieter.
Not silentâsilence was impossible when three boys lived under the same roofâbut quieter.
The kind of quiet that settled over the house in layers.
The dishwasher hummed softly from the kitchen.
Rain tapped occasionally against the upstairs windows.
Floorboards creaked as the house settled for the night.
And somewhere down the hallâ
âOH COME ON!â
Yuji.
Immediately followed by:
âYUJI!â
Your voice carried from the bedroom.
A pause.
Thenâ
âSorry!â
Three seconds later:
âTHATâS SO UNFAIR!â
You closed your eyes.
From beside you, Kento slowly turned a page in his book.
Neither of you spoke.
There was no point.
The cycle would simply continue.
Sure enoughâ
âYUJI.â
âSorry!â
Again.
The response came so quickly that he was clearly expecting it.
You couldnât help the small laugh that escaped you.
The sound earned a glance from your husband over the top of his glasses.
A familiar look.
Part amusement.
Part exhaustion.
Entirely parenthood.
The bedroom was warm.
A single lamp glowed from the nightstand beside Kentoâs side of the bed, casting the room in soft amber light. Shadows stretched lazily across the walls while the rain-muted world outside disappeared behind drawn curtains.
You had only just finished your shower.
Your hair was still slightly damp.
Your favourite bathrobe hung loosely around your shoulders.
The scent of your shampoo lingered faintly in the room.
For the first time all day, everything felt calm.
At least for a moment.
Kento sat propped against the headboard beside you, one hand holding his book while the other rested comfortably atop the blanket.
Reading.
Or pretending to.
Youâd been married long enough to know when he was actually focused.
And when he was simply staring at the same paragraph repeatedly while thinking about something else.
Tonight was definitely the second one.
Downstairs, a cupboard door opened.
Then another.
Then another.
You lifted your head slightly.
Kento didnât even look up.
âSukuna.â
It wasnât a question.
A statement.
The sound of something falling immediately followed.
A pause.
Then silence.
Your husband sighed.
Long.
Slow.
Practiced.
The sigh of a man who had spent sixteen years raising Sukuna.
âI bought snacks yesterday.â
âHe found them yesterday.â
âThat quickly?â
âHe is your son.â
You smiled.
âUnfortunately.â
That finally earned the faintest twitch at the corner of Kentoâs mouth.
Not quite a smile.
Close enough.
The house settled again.
Yujiâs shouting became slightly more distant.
Sukunaâs scavenger hunt downstairs continued.
Somewhere down the hallway, Chosoâs bedroom remained quiet.
Too quiet.
Your smile faded slightly.
Without meaning to, your gaze drifted toward the bedroom door.
Toward the hallway beyond it.
Toward the room where your middle son had disappeared hours ago.
You hadnât missed the way heâd barely touched dinner.
Or how tired heâd looked.
Or the way heâd avoided eye contact whenever you asked if he was alright.
Mothers noticed things.
Even when their children desperately wished they wouldnât.
You curled your legs beneath the blanket.
âKento.â
The page stopped turning.
A tiny thing.
But you noticed.
Immediately.
âMm?â
You stared at the rain-speckled darkness beyond the curtains.
Thinking.
Trying to find the right words.
Because saying them aloud somehow made them more real.
âIâm worried about Choso.â
The room fell quiet.
Not awkward.
Not surprised.
Just quiet.
Because Kento already knew.
Of course he did.
After a few seconds, he closed the book.
The soft thud echoed through the room.
âI know.â
The answer came immediately.
Too immediately.
Like heâd been thinking the exact same thing.
You looked over.
His glasses had slipped slightly lower down his nose.
His expression was thoughtful now.
Concerned.
The same expression heâd worn earlier at dinner when Choso left the table.
âHe didnât eat much.â
âNo.â
âAnd he went straight upstairs.â
âYes.â
You pulled absently at the sleeve of your bathrobe.
âHe seems sad.â
The words sounded wrong.
Too simple.
Too small.
There were a thousand ways to describe the feeling sitting in your chest.
None of them felt adequate.
Because Choso wasnât usually sad.
Sensitive, yes.
Quiet, absolutely.
But there was a lightness to him.
A warmth.
And latelyâ
Something seemed different.
Like someone had turned that light down.
Beside you, Kento was silent for a long moment.
The rain continued tapping softly against the window.
Down the hall, Yuji yelled again.
Neither of you bothered correcting him this time.
Eventually Kento removed his glasses.
Setting them carefully on the nightstand.
âI noticed it last week.â
You blinked.
âYou did?â
âI thought it might pass.â
The honesty surprised you.
Not because Kento wasnât honest.
Because he usually waited until he was sure before voicing concerns.
If he was admitting heâd noticed somethingâ
Then heâd been worried for a while.
Your stomach tightened.
âHe hasnât said anything to me.â
âNo.â
âOr you?â
Kento shook his head.
A frown appeared between his brows.
Small.
Rare.
âI asked if something was wrong.â
âAnd?â
âHe said no.â
You sighed.
Of course he did.
The answer was so painfully Choso.
The boy could be carrying the weight of the world and still insist he was fine.
Another cupboard slammed downstairs.
Then footsteps.
Heavy footsteps.
Definitely Sukuna.
The sound moved toward the stairs.
Then disappeared.
The house settled once more.
You leaned slightly against Kentoâs shoulder.
Without thinking.
Without asking.
His arm immediately shifted around you.
Automatic.
Years of habit.
Comfort.
Marriage.
For a while neither of you spoke.
The warmth of the room wrapped around you.
The rain continued outside.
And beneath all of it sat the same shared worry.
A parentâs worry.
The quiet fear that your child was hurting somewhere you couldnât reach.
Eventually you broke the silence.
âWhat do we do?â
Kentoâs fingers brushed lightly against your arm.
A small reassuring gesture.
The sort he always gave when he was thinking.
âWe wait.â
You frowned.
âI hate waiting.â
âI know.â
Another pause.
Then softerâ
âBut if something is wrong, heâll tell us when heâs ready.â
You hoped he was right.
You really did.
Neither of you noticed the light beneath Sukunaâs bedroom door still glowing across the hallway.
Or the fact that he wasnât asleep.
Because while you and Kento worried quietly from your roomâ
Sukuna was lying awake in his own.
Staring at the ceiling.
Thinking about Choso.
Thinking about school.
And thinking about three boys who were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
Summary: choso starts coming home quieter than usual. sukuna notices first.
Warnings: bullying (school setting), teen violence, protective sibling dynamics, emotional themes, hurt/ comfort, family conflict, sukuna being sukuna, slight angst
Part 1 part 3
The house is quiet in that rare, fragile way it only ever is when all three boys are still out.
Rain had passed earlier in the evening, leaving the streets outside damp and reflective under the glow of streetlights. Inside, the Nanami home feels warm in contrastâlamplight spilling across clean wooden floors, the faint scent of dinner already simmering away in the kitchen.
Youâre leaning against the counter when Kento walks in.
His tie is slightly loosened. Jacket still on. The kind of tired that sits behind his eyes rather than on his face.
Still, the moment he sees you, something in his expression softens in a way only you ever get to see.
âYouâre staring,â he says quietly as he sets his briefcase down by the door.
âIâm appreciating,â you correct, turning back to the stove.
A pause.
Then the faint sound of him exhalingâsomething almost like a laugh, but too small to be anything heâd admit to.
He moves closer behind you, not touching at first. Just there. Present. The warmth of him behind your shoulder is familiar in a way that makes the whole room feel steadier.
âYouâve been standing there long enough for dinner to burn,â he says.
âItâs not burning.â
âIt smells like it is.â
âItâs caramelising.â
âThatâs what people say when itâs burning.â
You turn your head slightly just in time to catch the faintest upward curve at the corner of his mouth.
Itâs small.
Private.
Yours.
When he finally does touch you, itâs gentleâtwo fingers brushing lightly at your wrist as he checks whatever youâre cooking with the kind of unnecessary precision he applies to everything in life.
âYouâre tired,â he says after a moment.
âSo are you.â
âThatâs irrelevant.â
âItâs not.â
A silence settles between you, not uncomfortableâjust lived-in. The kind that comes from years of shared mornings, late nights, and raising three boys who have never once made anything easy.
Kento leans slightly closer, voice dropping just a little.
âYuji said he was going to attempt cooking again.â
âThatâs not a sentence I like hearing.â
âHe was very enthusiastic.â
âThatâs worse.â
And this time, he actually laughsâsoft, brief, almost disbelieving.
Itâs interrupted by the front door opening.
⸝
The atmosphere shifts immediately.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just⌠subtly.
Like the house itself recognises the difference between peace and whatever is about to walk in.
Yuji comes in first, talking about something that doesnât matter, already halfway through taking his shoes off.
Then Sukuna.
Quiet.
Eyes scanning the room once before he moves inside.
And then Choso.
Slightly behind them.
Head lower than usual.
Sukuna notices immediately.
Of course he does.
⸝
Dinner is louder than usual in the beginning.
Yuji talks too much.
Sukuna talks too little.
You try to balance it out.
Nanami mostly listens, occasionally correcting Yujiâs table manners without even looking up from his food.
But Choso is different tonight.
He eats slower.
Less.
His shoulders stay slightly tense even when nobody is speaking directly to him.
You notice first.
Nanami notices second.
Sukuna notices instantly.
He just doesnât say anything yet.
⸝
After dinner, Choso is the first to leave the table.
âIâm going to bed,â he says too quickly.
Itâs not even late.
Yuji frowns. âAlready?â
âIâm tired.â
No one stops him.
But Sukuna watches him go.
And something in his expression changes the moment Choso disappears upstairs.
⸝
It doesnât take long.
Five minutes.
Maybe less.
Sukuna is already standing.
Walking up the stairs.
No noise.
No announcement.
Just movement.
He finds Choso exactly where he expected him to be.
Sitting on the edge of his bed.
School bag still on the floor.
Uniform half undone.
Staring at nothing.
Sukuna leans against the doorframe.
âTalk.â
Choso doesnât look up. âGo away.â
âThatâs not an answer.â
âItâs nothing.â
A pause.
Sukuna steps inside anyway.
The room is quiet in a different way than downstairs. Softer. Heavier. The kind of quiet that sits on the skin.
Choso finally glances at him.
A warning in it.
âJust leave it.â
Sukuna exhales through his nose, impatient now.
âYouâve been like this for days.â
âIâm fine.â
âYouâre not.â
Chosoâs grip tightens slightly on his sleeve.
The smallest tell.
The only one Sukuna needs.
âDid someone do something?â
Silence.
Thatâs the answer.
Sukuna straightens slightly.
Expression sharpening.
âChoso.â
âDonât tell Mom.â
That stops him.
Not fully.
But enough.
Choso finally looks at him properly now.
Eyes steady, but tired in a way heâs trying very hard to hide.
âItâs not a big deal,â he says quietly. âJust⌠donât tell her.â
Sukuna doesnât respond immediately.
For once, he doesnât push.
Doesnât argue.
Just watches him.
Like heâs trying to decide what kind of anger this is.
When he finally speaks again, his voice is lower.
âWho was it?â
Choso shakes his head once.
âDrop it.â
Another pause.
Then softerâ
âPlease.â
That word lands differently.
Sukunaâs jaw tightens.
But he nods once.
Not agreement.
Not acceptance.
Just understanding.
âIâm not dropping it,â he says finally. âIâm just not telling her yet.â
Choso doesnât answer.
Because thatâs all heâs going to get.
⸝
Downstairs, dinner plates are being cleared.
Normal life continues like nothing is wrong.
But Choso doesnât come back down.
Not that night.
And when Nanami eventually glances toward the empty staircase, he doesnât say anything.
Summary: choso starts coming home quieter than usual. sukuna notices first.
Warnings: bullying (school setting), teen violence, protective sibling dynamics, emotional themes, hurt/comfort, family conflict, sukuna being sukuna, slight angst
Part 2 part 3
The corridor is loud in the way school always is right before lunch.
Lockers slam shut in uneven rhythm. Trainers squeak against polished floors. Someone laughs too loudly at something that isnât even funny. The air smells like floor cleaner, damp coats, and the faint metallic scent of rain still clinging to people who forgot their umbrellas that morning.
Sukuna is leaning against the wall near the science block.
Half-listening.
Half-not.
A group of boys from his year are talking nearby, but heâs not part of it. He rarely is. He just exists at the edge of things, watching everything without ever really joining in.
Thatâs when he sees Choso.
Heâs coming down the corridor alone.
Head slightly lowered.
Uniform too neat, like heâs trying to hide inside it. His school bag is held tightly over one shoulder, fingers curled too firmly around the strap.
Sukuna notices immediately that Choso isnât walking like he usually does.
Not calm.
Not steady.
Smaller.
Like heâs trying not to take up space.
Then Sukuna sees them.
Three boys.
Same year as Choso.
Theyâre not subtle about it.
One of them walks slightly too close behind him, matching his pace. Another one drifts to the side, cutting off space without actually touching him.
The third one is smiling.
Too wide.
Too sharp.
Sukuna straightens slightly without realising it.
He doesnât move yet.
He watches.
⸝
The first thing they do is the easiest to miss.
One of the boys bumps into Chosoâs shoulder as they pass a group of younger students.
Not hard enough to knock him over.
Just enough to make him stumble half a step.
A deliberate mistake.
The boy laughs immediately.
âCareful, yeah? Youâre walking like you own the place.â
Choso doesnât respond.
He just adjusts his grip on his bag strap and keeps walking.
Sukunaâs jaw tightens slightly.
But he still doesnât move.
⸝
They follow him past the vending machines.
The hallway narrows here, less people around.
The noise from the main corridor fades slightly, replaced by the dull hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
One of the boys walks a little faster, overtaking Choso.
Stops right in front of him.
Forces him to pause.
Choso looks up for the first time.
Just briefly.
Immediately looks back down again.
The boy tilts his head.
âHey, Kamo.â
No answer.
The silence is intentional now.
Choso is trying to disappear into it.
That makes the boy grin.
âYou donât talk much, do you?â
Still nothing.
Behind him, another boy laughs.
âMaybe he thinks heâs better than us.â
The first boy steps closer.
Close enough that Choso has to tilt his head slightly just to avoid eye contact.
âYou always like this?â he asks. âOr just when youâre scared?â
Choso finally speaks.
Quiet.
Controlled.
âIâm not scared.â
A beat.
Sukuna watches from the end of the corridor.
Expression unreadable.
But his eyes sharpen.
⸝
The boy laughs like heâs been given permission.
âOh yeah?â
He glances at the others.
âDid you hear that?â
One of them smirks.
âSay it again then.â
Choso doesnât.
He just stands there.
Still.
Trying very hard not to react.
Thatâs when the second boy steps in closer and taps Chosoâs shoulder with two fingers.
Light.
Mocking.
âRelax. Weâre just talking.â
Choso flinches anyway.
Tiny.
But Sukuna sees it.
Immediately.
Something in his chest tightens.
⸝
The third boy finally speaks properly.
âYou know, itâs kinda weird how you act like you donât know anyone here.â
He gestures vaguely at the corridor.
âLike youâre just⌠visiting.â
The first boy leans in again.
âYeah. Like you donât belong.â
Chosoâs fingers tighten around his bag strap again.
Harder this time.
âYou donât have toââ he starts.
But the boy cuts him off.
âWhat? You gonna cry?â
Silence.
The kind that stretches too long.
Too uncomfortable.
One of them snorts.
âBet he cries like a baby when he gets home.â
That one lands differently.
Sukunaâs posture shifts.
Subtle.
But real.
He pushes off the wall slightly.
Still watching.
⸝
The first boy bumps Choso again.
This time on purpose.
Harder.
Choso stumbles a step sideways.
His books shift in his bag.
He doesnât drop anything.
But his shoulders tense instantly.
âStop it,â he says.
Not loud.
Not confident.
Just⌠there.
The boy smiles.
âOhhh, he can talk.â
Another step closer.
âSay it properly then.â
Choso looks up again.
Longer this time.
His expression is controlled, but Sukuna can see it now.
Heâs holding himself together.
Barely.
âI said stop it.â
The boy laughs again.
And thatâs when it happens.
He reaches out and flicks Chosoâs forehead.
Not hard.
But humiliating.
âMake me.â
⸝
Thatâs the moment Sukuna moves slightly forwardâ
just one stepâ
but then stops again.
Watching.
Measuring.
The air in the corridor feels different now.
He can feel it.
Something building.
Something deciding.
Choso stands still.
Completely still.
And for a second, Sukuna thinks he might actually walk away again.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
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