#mamakuna

The village stops and stares as the duo walks, because ordinary people are rude but not stupid and they recognize power for what it is. Whispers follow them and then spread around the village like one of Sukuna's flames. Within minutes, everyone knows that the cursed boy has returned - with another man at his side. And everyone means - everyone.

''Little reed!'' Sayo rushes out of one of the buildings - a tall woman with sharp eyes, a strong nose and long, red-pink hair. The bottom of her blue kimono blows in the wind as she rushes towards the pair. Her smile is bright, almost blinding, and dimples her cheeks. ''You've returned! And oh, you've brought a guest!''

Her hands worry over him, ghosting just shy of actually touching skin. Warm eyes take in the raised scarring on the tattooed skin, some old, some new.

Then, her hands find his face, making contact now, tilting his head this way and that. He lets her, an almost exasperated look in his eyes, but there's also relief in the way his eyebrows smooth out and his shoulders relax ever-so-slightly.

"I have, and I did," Sukuna says, even, but Sayo has raised him since he was but a small thing able to fit into her arm, four eyes looking curiously at every little detail. So, she ushers them with her, towards her small home. Humble, but it is warm and familiar and their home.

"Come in, come in," she fusses as they enter, taking off her shoes and putting the pot, filled with water, on the still-smouldering coals.

She pretends not to hear the white-haired man's teasing whisper - "How are you like this when your Okaasan is… like that?"

She smothers a smile, the coals keeping the secret. "Tea?" She calls over her shoulder. Two sets of footsteps follow her question like dogs being called for a treat - one heavy, like a mountain refusing to move for the wind; the other lighter but steady, like a river coursing its way through the mountain regardless, knowing exactly where it's headed.

"So," she starts as they sit down. She clicks her tongue as Sukuna sprawls, one leg pulled inward and the other foot firmly on the ground, knee high to prop his elbow on it. The sound is mostly a formality - ever since her son had learned that he was allowed to take up space, he had sat like this like a bad habit he couldn't shake. The barely-there quirk of his lips shows her he knows full well what his crime is.

Her other guest, however, knows his manners and sits neatly with his legs underneath him. Good.

"So, who did you bring along?" She asks, her eyes flitting between Sukuna and the white-haired man.

"Oh, right," Sukuna says, rubbing the back of his head with his upper right arm. Sayo narrows her eyes at the nervous gesture; there was no need for it, was there?

"Okaasan, this is Gojo Satoru. Satoru, my mother, Ryoumen Sayo."

Somehow, this feels important. Like he'd doing more than just introducing her to a friend, but she can't quite put a finger on what's different.

Gojo has a sparkle in his eyes as he bows politely. "Nice to meet you, Ryoumen-san." A glance to Sukuna, who already looks as though he is regretting bringing him here. "Nice to finally have a name, Kuna. I thought I was going to have to refer to Ryoumen-san here as 'Mamakuna' forever."

A beat.

Then, a bright, pealing laugh erupts from Sayo's throat. Her wide smile dimples her cheeks, and her eyes scrunch up. "Mamakuna?" She repeats, amused.

Gojo's shoulders relax, and he smirks, a wild, untamed thing. "Yes," he responds in kind. "Because someone-" he shoots a look at Sukuna. "-didn't share his dear Okaasan's name, so I had to come up with something."

"You did not," her son vehemently disagrees. It makes Gojo cackle, shriller than her own laugh but not any less warm. Something in Sukuna's eyes softens at that, and he subconsciously shifts closer to Gojo-

Oh.

"Little river," she sing-songs, and all four eyes snap over to her in a look of pure mortification at her tone.

"O-Sa-"

"You finally found yourself a special someone, huh?" She cuts through his protests as if her words were made of his technique instead.

The way his ears turn red is telling, and she grins wider as she waits for the confirmation.

"… Yes, I did-"

She doesn't miss the hint of nerves in his voice, but she is also a little preoccupied with trying not to vibrate out of her skin with joy.

Her little reed had found himself a special someone!

"That's amazing," she all but squeals, quickly getting up and ruffling his hair like she used to when he was a child - earning her a huff and a half-hearted glare.

After a heartbeat's hesitation, she reaches over to Gojo and does the same to him. He immediately leans into the touch, like a cat, looking amused and pleased.

"Tell me everything," she demands. "How did you two meet? How long have you known each other?" Then, she whirls around to look at her son. "And Sukuna, why haven't you mentioned him once in your letters?"

Her son has the decency to look guilty at that. Good. Gojo lets out an impressed whisper. "Damn. Never thought I'd see the great Ryoumen Sukuna look this emberassed."

"Satoru."

"What? You said I should just be myself! Smartassery included."

"No, I said-" Sukuna sighs. Sayo's mouth quirks up again as they start bickering like an old married couple. Cute.

She lets them be for a moment as she moves to prepare the tea. She keeps an ear out, listening to them, not trying to be nosy. But she is a mother and she wants to know if Gojo is good for her son.

They dish out playful jabs and insults - nothing too extreme - and trade little 'yes, but remember when you-'s that spoke volumes of their shared history and affection for each other. Each jab grows more ridiculous and incredulous, like children arguing for the sake of arguing.

She had rarely seen Sukuna so relaxed and off-guard with anyone that wasn't her.

Their argument gets cut off as she clears her throat and hands them their tea. Sukuna looks sheepish, while Gojo looks utterly unashamed.

"As amusing as your argument is," she teases, "I am still curious. How did you two meet?"

"Ah, well," Gojo speaks up, leaning forward and looking way too eager to share the story. "My clan had sent me out on a mission to fight this curse. Very powerful thing. Special grade, if you know what that means?"

She shakes her head. "Not really, but continue."

Gojo nods. "Alright, it's not really that relevant, anyway. Just know it's very powerful - as in, people on Sukuna and I's level can handle it, but anyone below struggles. Anyway, I get to the area, only to have this lunatic-" he rolls his eyes and jabs at Sukuna. "-randomly join me in the middle of my battle!"

"Again, you looked like you needed help." Her son takes a calm sip of his tea, but the belly mouth curls ever so slightly, belying his amusement.

Gojo snaps his head to gawk at him, sputtering. "Hey! For the thousandth time, I had it handled!"

"It was about to tear through your Infinity and your Reds were weak as shit," Sukuna points out - not cruelly, but seemingly a fact.

"I was saving up to Purple it! Ugh, whatever." Gojo rolls his eyes, looking at Sayo with a look that screams 'look at what I have to deal with'.

She has a feeling he's just as bad, but she doesn't point it out. Instead replying with a calm, "Continue."

"Right, right," Gojo says. "So, my first impression of Sukuna is just him charging head-first at a special grade curse. But, well, even I could reluctantly see that he helped more than he got in the way, so we worked together. Took a few accidents to learn each other's fighting styles and find a rhythm, but eventually, we did defeat the curse. And about half the surrounding forest."

Sukuna snorts. "Please. You fired Red and Blue all over the place. Of course there would be deforestation."

Gojo huffs. "Anyway. After that, I… may or may not have shouted at him for just showing up in the middle of a fight like that."

"That does sound rather dangerous," Sayo responds mildly, making eye contact with her son.

"Right!" Gojo nods sagely. Sukuna looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"So, that's how you met," Sayo says, taking a slow sip of her own tea. "What happened then?"

"Satoru stuck to me like an octopus and refused to let go," Sukuna deadpans.

"Emotionally," Gojo emphasizes, as if Sayo had expected him to cling physically. Although that made for a rather amusing mental image.

Sukuna sighs as though he'd suffering greatly. "Also physically, eventually. Regardless, Satoru was curious about me, and I admit I was… intrigued by him as well." He ignores Gojo's exaggerated coo. Instead, he continues dryly: "It didn't take long to learn that was a mistake. He came back to bother me. Again. And again. And again."

"Oh, please, that's what friends are for," Gojo huffs. "Anyway, we spent more time together, fought more curses together, and found we were pretty compatible. We went from acquaintances to friends to more over the course of… I think four years?"

Sayo turns to look at Sukuna slowly. "… Four years."

He winces at the flat tone of her voice. "Listen-"

"No," she cuts in. "How come I haven't heard of this before?"

"Because I…" Sukuna falters, his voice quieting. He doesn't look at either of them when he speaks. "I was… afraid. Afraid it wouldn't last at first. Then, that when I would write about Satoru, tell you we would come over, I would lose him soon after that letter was sent."

Silence reigns for a little while as they all process that confession. Gojo shifts a little closer, lacing their hands together in a show of silent comfort.

Sayo frowns. On some level, she's aware that in their line of work, losing a loved one was a valid fear. But she had not raised her son to live by his fears.

"I understand," she murmurs. "Though a mention at least would've been nice."

Sukuna winces as if her words were a physical blow.

''O-Sayo-'' he starts, but she cuts him off.

''Shush,'' she says firmly but not unkindly. ''It has already been forgiven, little reed. I understand your fear. But I regret that it has caused a distance, no matter how small.''

Sukuna is silent at that, all four eyes cast to the floor in contemplation.

Sayo doesn't want this visit to linger with any bitter notes, so she hums a tune - the same one she hums when grinding ink, and his eyes snap to hers. Gojo tilts his head as if he's hearing something familiar.

She lifts her right hand, the red thread loop still on her arm, tied with an abalone knot. Its colour had faded from years of weathering. It was clearly well-loved and important.

Sukuna's eyes widen upon seeing it. ''You kept it,'' he says softly, almost reverently. Something seems to settle - like a crane remembering where its nest is.

''Of course I did, little river,'' she says tenderly. ''Always. You will always have a home here - remember that.''

She watches him swallow thickly, his grip on Gojo's hand tightening. She turns her gaze to the white-haired sorcerer, meeting his gaze through the blindfold he wore - steady, even, but full of warmth.

''As do you.''

She watches him shift, too, as if the concept of having a home to return to and not just a house to stay at is foreign to him.

No more.

''Come here,'' she says, beckoning them closer. ''My boys.''

She pulls them into her arms - the angle is a bit awkward, for they are much taller and broader than she is. But she is a mother first and foremost, and so she makes it work. Sukuna relaxes into the touch in much the same way a large cat does - languid, content, boneless as if he was warming himself in the sun. Satoru, however, is tense at first, like a stray cat who hasn't known affection in a while. She hums the tune and runs her hands through their hair. Eventually Satoru, too, relaxes.

''Remember,'' she says in the space between their breaths. ''That no matter how cruel the world is to you, you will always have a home to return to, here.''

Satoru breaks first. His breath hitches against her shoulder, and his body tenses like he's holding back. But before she can speak, her son puts his hand on Satoru's back.

''Toru,'' he murmurs, voice slightly muffled against her other shoulder; his, too, is rough with emotion. ''It's okay.''

Satoru struggles with himself for a moment longer. Then, the first sob leaves him - a high, keening, sad little whimper. He tears off his blindfold to rub at his eyes, his face scrunched up like a child who refuses to cry.

''None of that,'' Sayo says at the same time Sukuna gently coaxes: ''It's okay, Toru.''

Satoru laughs - wetly, choked, and so fond. ''Has anyone ever told you it's unfair how similar you are?''

Mother and son exchange a glance, amused twin smiles on their face. ''Not particularly,'' Sukuna answers slowly. ''But you need to stop deflecting, my love.''

Satoru puts his face back onto her shoulder, and like a sulking child, says: ''So do you.''

Sayo laughs softly, carding her fingers through soft, white locks as Satoru shudders against her. He's crying so quietly she would've missed it if she had been on the other side of the room.

''He's right, you know,'' she muses, her gaze shifting to Sukuna. Knowing. ''You are both safe here, I promise.''

It works as she knew it would - he shudders, like a dam breaking, and moves to tuck against her as if he were still a small child, barely reaching her hip.

They cry like men who have held the world on their shoulders on their own for way too long, and there's nothing shameful about it. Just release.

Sayo just keeps holding them, carding fingers through their hair, humming the tune again and again when the silence becomes too much. When sobs eventually quiet into sniffles and the fabric on her shoulders is soaked through, they pull away.

Satoru sags against Sukuna as if he cannot bear to lose physical contact. He rubs at his eyes, and Sayo can get a good look at them for the first time. They are a beautiful, crystalline blue, and they contrast with his white hair perfectly.

She doesn't realize she's staring until Satoru squeezes his eyes shut and burrows his face into Sukuna's chest with a groan. One of four hands comes up to cradle the back of his head, and as Sukuna's expression grows concerned, so does hers.

''Headache?'' he asks softly, and gets another groan in return. His gaze shifts back to her.

''His eyes,'' he explains softly, ''are really sensitive. Very pretty, but troublesome at times. It's what the blindfold is for.''

She nods in understanding. She stands up quietly, moves to one of the pots, and starts to prepare a cup of ginger tea. She hums softly as she works, and Sukuna continues to hold Satoru against him while carefully re-tying the blindfold. She occasionally glances at them out of the corner of her eyes, and she smiles softly to herself. Even a blind man could see how much they care for each other.

Minutes later, the cup of steaming tea is ready. Satoru takes slow sips, and both Sukuna and Sayo wait with bated breath for the tea to do its job. Eventually, some color returns back to Satoru's cheeks, and he relaxes a little bit.

''Thank you, Ryoumen-san,'' he breathes. She shakes her head and chuckles.

''Oh, no need for that. It was made with love and care.''

''Hmm, so that's why it tastes so good,'' Satoru teases, still a little weak, and they fall back into easy conversation as they wait for the headache to pass. They use the opportunity to catch up, share new stories, and recall old ones.

Much to Sukuna's dismay, Satoru and Sayo waste no time in trading embarrassing stories. From the start of his childhood - ''He used to get stuck in the sleeves of his kimonos all the time,'' Sayo recalled fondly - to more recent stories - ''He forgot to duck and nearly ate a tree branch when it whipped back,'' Satoru shares with delight.

As they talk, hours slip by unnoticed. Soon enough, the sun is starting to set.

''I admit,'' Sayo starts, breaking the lull in the conversation, ''I was not expecting visitors. We might need to forage for some extra herbs, vegetables, or mushrooms.''

''Smell first, don't tug the ring,'' Sukuna responds instantly, smiling fondly at the memories attached to that sentence. He's relaxed, his eyes nearly half-lidded from contentness - like a tiger lying in a sun patch.

She grins back at him, her cheeks dimpling. ''Better get to work then, little river.''

They all stand and stretch for a moment - much needed movement after hours of sitting.

Then, the home bustles with movement - Sayo moving to the pots, checking for ingredients, while Sukuna and Satoru slip on their shoes.

''Remember,'' she calls out playfully, because she was young once too, ''foraging, and nothing else!''

''O-Sayo!'' Sukuna says, exasperated. Satoru just cackles.

''Don't worry, the clothes will stay on!'' he says, earning an even more exasperated ''Toru!'' from Sukuna.

She shakes her head with a fond smile, and shoos them out. ''They better,'' she jests, ''now shoo. We need to eat soon.''

And if, a little while later, they return with more than enough ingredients and kiss-swollen lips? Well, she had been young and in love once, too.

Besides, they remembered to bring the herbs. Mugwort, shiso, and some mushrooms. Combined with what she had left in the pots, this would make a decent meal.

They set about preparing the meal. Satoru burns the edges of the rice, and her son chuckles about it like an old joke. Sukuna cuts the vegetables with the precision that is exactly right for his technique. Sayo brings it all together, guiding and correcting them - because with a mother present, they are still just boys.

But as they work, with laughter and stories filling the space where silence had been the day before, she thinksthat for once, everything will be just right.

I hope you enjoyed and that this healed some of our collective broken hearts over Mamakuna... She's so fun to write ngl.

Do you have a favourite line? Mine is ''They cry like men who have held the world on their shoulders on their own for way too long, and there's nothing shameful about it.''