A soul-swap moment in one of the WIPs:
Sukuna had always thought Fushiguro's shadow would be heavy, but now he's in Fushiguro's skin and it doesn't feel any different. His shadow is just a shadow is just a shadow.
Oh but the view is different -- Sukuna has to suck it up now and admit Fushiguro really is taller.
Maybe the shadow thing is a muscle memory thing, Sukuna hasn't been in Fushiguro's skin particularly long, but Fushiguro's skin has a whole lifetime worth of getting used to that-goddamn-shadow.
"Please stop checking out my ass," Fushiguro pipes up nearby, Sukuna winces uncomfortably at being called out with his own voice. He's glared at with his own face and reflesively, unimpressed wells up before Sukuna can react.
"There's not much anyway," Nobara pipes up, not looking up from her magazine. Fushiguro does a thing with his face that Sukuna's face really wasn't meant to do -- it might have been confused indignation, Sukuna certainly feels indignant on Fushiguro's behalf.
But it doesn't immediately translate into a facial expression. There's a lot here inside Fushiguro's skin that roils around, it's not so much repression that leads to an inability to express it all -- but rather a general disconnect.
There's -- there's a part of Fushiguro here that Sukuna recognises as absent. Namely, Fushiguro doesn't see the utility of expressing what he feels (which is a lot) so he simply doesn't.
And then further down, there is a part of Fushiguro that cannot be described with any other term aside from wild. There is something in Fushiguro that cannot grow anything other than teeth. Furious and terrible and hungry. It'd scare anyone who found out.
Coincedentally, it's something that only Sukuna can love. Sukuna grins, giddy with this revelation, but because he is in Fushiguro's skin nobody sees him smile.
