Wormy

And you got away with it for a while– for years, to be exact. It became your secret hobby, observing the notorious Zenins like they were animals in a zoo. And in some cases, they acted as such. Aggressive, possessive, always fighting for dominance with each other while forcing the women to maintain the home and watch after the kids. They bred like rabbits, you noticed. You thought that maybe they needed a new hobby of their own.

Your parents told you to keep your distance from them, though they had no idea that you liked to sneak off and get as close to the family as you could. If they had, you’d no doubt be punished for your idiocy. Even as a child, you knew your parents had a good reason for ordering you to stay away from the Zenins, but it wasn’t until you saw the true extent of how cruel they could be that you finally understood it for yourself.

Aggressiveness, fighting for dominance– those weren’t things the adult men reserved for use against each other. No, they involved the children, too, not only forcing them to fight for their entertainment, but retaliating against them as well. 

But why? What was the purpose? As an eight-year-old little girl, you couldn’t figure it out; it confused you. Your parents were strict at times, doling out punishments as they saw fit, but… never to this extent. 

The boy running through the garden looked terrified, glancing over his shoulder as the other chased him down. The one in front tried his best not to trample the flowers, yet the one behind him didn’t seem to give it another thought as he ruined them. Both of their yukatas were smudged with dirt, even ripped in a few places, too. It was evident by just their appearance alone that they had been doing this for a while, only now deciding to bring it outside.

While trying to mitigate flower damage, the boy ended up tripping, and just as quickly, he turned over to defend himself from the other, muttering, “Jinichi, I never-” A harsh kick to his ribs had the boy groaning and curling in on himself. “Whatever Ogi said isn’t true-”

“No?” Jinichi questioned in monotone and laid another kick to his ribs. “Hear that, Uncle? Toji says you’re a liar.”

A man who you hadn’t noticed stepped into view, spectating the debacle with a critical glance. The boy– Toji, as you learned– shook his head, raising his eyes to meet Ogi’s. “I didn’t say you’re a liar, but whoever told you that I-”

Before you could blink, the man moved so quickly, pressing to Toji’s mouth the end of a long cane he was toting around. The boy fell silent, eyeing the wooden stick with a bit of fear. 

“Are you calling my attendants liars, then?” Ogi never gave Toji the chance to answer before he handed off the cane to the other boy and said, “You may continue as we’ve practiced. I trust that you won’t kill him, but don’t be gentle either. The conniving runt isn’t worthy of your mercy after what he’s done to you.”

As the man stalked off in the opposite direction, heading back toward the house, you watched Jinichi reaffirm his grip on the cane with a determined look on his face. Toji used his arms to pull himself backward, but not far enough that the tip of the wooden rod couldn’t ram right into his face when Jinichi finally swung for him.

You gasped a quiet sound, heart thumping faster and faster in your chest when you heard his pained groan. He angled his face toward the other, scared but not backing down. Blood dripped from his temple, down his reddened, battered cheek to fall off his jaw– the sight of it made you feel sick. To the other side of Toji’s face, Jinichi gave him a matching wound, then stood back to assess his work.

He twirled the cane with a precise, practiced move, gruffly offering, “I’ll make it quick if you just confess.”

With the back of his hand, Toji wiped away the blood that had dripped into his eye, smearing it down his face. “We’ve been brothers for ten years now. How long do you think that lie is going to work on me?” 

His brother didn’t respond and instead swung the cane for his side, hitting his target with a loud cracking sound. The noise that left Toji was painful, calling to you like a cry for help, yet you were frozen. Never in your life had you witnessed such violence. You gripped the fence just a bit tighter, noticing then how shaky your hands were.

Toji rolled onto his stomach, curling into himself to protect his injury, but in doing so, he was risking his back to an attack. When Jinichi took the opportunity, whipping the cane across his spine, you had to bite your own tongue to stop from making a noise. The boy fell flat on his front with a cry of agony, sobbing, “I didn’t do it, Jinichi. I haven’t been in your room since the last time you caught me, I swear.”

“I don’t believe you,” his brother insisted, taking the cane to his back again, and then once more. A redness began seeping into the white yukata Toji wore. “Uncle Ogi wouldn’t lie-”

“Uncle Ogi,” Toji began, voice lifting a few decibels, “does whatever the hell he wants to keep himself entertained, and if you think for one second that doesn’t apply to you, then you’re an idiot.”

Even you knew that for a boy in Toji’s position, saying something like that wasn’t the right move. Unsurprisingly, it earned him three more lashes before his brother managed to snap the cane in half. While the boy writhed on the ground, Jinichi inspected the jagged end of the broken wood, contemplating something before tossing it away, only to bend down and grab Toji by the back of his yukata.

The boy groaned in pain, pleading for him to stop, and fighting against Jinichi with what strength he had left, which wasn’t much. He dragged him across the yard, ripping up what flowers hadn’t been destroyed during their chase, and dropped him on the edge of the koi pond. 

If you felt sick before just to see them fighting, it was nothing compared to the churning in your stomach to see his brother step over Toji’s body and stand above him. All too quickly, Jinichi guided Toji’s head to the water and held him under. He fought against his brother, digging his nails into his ankles to draw blood, yet Jinichi never stopped. 

If he kept going, Toji would surely die.

Somehow, some way, you defied your own fear in that moment, and in the next, your hands were pushing at Jinichi’s back with such a force that he toppled forward, into the pond. How you managed to cross the field so quickly, you weren’t sure– running was never your strong suit, but then again, you’d never tried while hopped up on so much adrenaline.

You lowered yourself beside Toji, careful not to touch his back or move him in a way that might cause him pain. Though, really, it wouldn’t have mattered after the beating he had taken. Deeming his shoulders safe, you grabbed him there, helping to bring him off the ground until he could balance himself on shaky arms.

Jinichi broke the surface of the pond while Toji worked on catching his breath, keeping his head cast down as the water droplets fell from soaked tufts of his black hair. The clear water took on a reddish hue as it rinsed the blood from his face. He spat out what collected in his mouth, heaving in deep breaths. 

“Didn’t go in your room,” he muttered, spitting out more bloody water. You assumed he thought you to be his brother, hence his rambling, but Jinichi was actually standing on the other side of the pond, staring at you with a bewildered expression. “Ogi is a liar. Not me.”

You reached down, placing your hand over the back of his own. “I believe you.” 

The heavy breathing stalled instantly, Toji going stalk still when he heard your voice– one that doesn’t sound like his brother’s at all. Clearly, you had startled him, but that was something you could apologize for later, after you dealt with the Zenin across the pond, who had yet to move. 

“You could have killed him, you know? What is the matter with you?” you snapped with enough bite that Jinichi flinched and took a step back. Then another, and another, until he fully turned around to run into the house. You watched him go with a disapproving shake of your head before giving your attention to the one who needed it the most. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond to you, but he did move, shakily pulling his hand out from beneath yours. When he pressed it into the dirt, he tried to push himself to stand. He stumbled around a bit, but managed it eventually. There were a few seconds when you both were unmoving, still reeling and trying to adjust to what just happened.

Then, Toji spoke. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You stood, too, taking a moment to dust off your yukata and smooth it out straight. “I know, but he was hurting you.”

He never once spared you a glance, keeping his eyes cast away as he moved on the same path as his brother. The most you received from the interaction was a few words that sounded a lot like a threat.

“You should leave before they hurt you, too.”

You took a few hurried steps toward him, latching onto his wrist to make him stop. “But what about you. Your back is-”

“I know you like to watch us,” he interjected, shaking off your touch. “You sit on the fence. You think no one can see you through the branches, but I can. So I know that you know what happens to girls here.”

Only then did you start to feel scared. After all, you had just been caught. If your parents found out, they’d be pissed, but worse was whatever the notorious Zenins might do to you for such an offense.

With nothing else to say, nothing for you to deny, you apologized. 

“I’m sorry.” It came out as a whisper, barely loud enough for you to even hear it. “Please, don’t tell anyone.”

Sensing your fear, Toji turned around. He didn’t smile, his face seemingly stuck in a flat expression, but the look in his eyes changed. It was a subtle difference, but one that you noticed. Toji blinked a few times before saying, “I don’t mind. You’re not hurting anything. Besides, I know what it’s like to be somewhere you’re not supposed to be. I go into my brother’s room all the time.”

A quiet gasp passed your lips, causing a smile to form on Toji’s mouth. You could tell that with the amount of pain he was in, it was forced, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“As long as you don’t tell on me, I won’t tell on you. Okay?”

You swallowed thickly, giving a firm, singular nod. “Okay.”

Slowly, his smile fell. “You should go now.”

“But what about your back? It’s bad– you’re bleeding-”

“I’ll be fine. They’re nothing but a few scratches.”

But they weren’t just a few scratches; they were deep, seeping wounds that Toji felt throb in time with his heartbeat while he watched you walk away, making sure you made it back between the cedar trees before letting go of the pained whimpers he had been holding back. The boy stumbled into the home before being swept up by one of the attendants to have his injuries assessed. Just as the woman finished cleaning the wound, the shoji door slammed open to allow Ogi to enter.

He didn’t speak– neither of them did. It wasn’t needed, for they both knew what was in store for Toji. He wasn’t only in trouble for his fight with his brother, but also for letting you walk away. While he had talked with you, he felt their eyes stabbing into his back, waiting for Toji to make the right move, yet he didn’t. 

And for that, he would be punished along with you, though you weren’t aware of that yet.

“What did you do?” your mother hissed quietly, dragging you out of your room and into the living area, which you noticed was taken up by a few familiar faces– Zenins, to be exact. 

Jinichi sat between two men, stoic, just as you remembered him to be. The one on his left, Ogi, and the one on his right was someone you’d never seen before. Though with a mustache like that, you doubted that you’d ever be able to forget him. Naobito was his name, as you had soon learned just after your mother forced you into a deep, respectful bow.

The conversation didn’t come as a surprise to you; you had screwed up, got caught by this powerful family, and were now about to reap the consequences of your actions. However, the action they were accusing you of wasn’t trespassing, as you had assumed it to be. Instead, it was something they must’ve manifested in their minds. In other words, it was a lie.

“It seems there was an altercation a few days ago. Your child stepped onto our property and tried to drown our Jinichi,” Ogi spat, earning the room two horrified gasps from your parents.

Unable to help yourself, you were quick to argue, “I never did that!”

“You didn’t push him into the koi pond?” A tense silence fell over the room as you slumped back down, trying to come up with something to defend yourself, yet you had nothing. You had, in fact, pushed the boy into the pond, though you weren’t trying to drown him. 

You brokenly sputtered, “H-He was the one trying to drown someone. He held Toji’s head under the water-”

“Why would he do that to his own brother, hm? Jinichi, you love Toji-kun, don’t you?”

“Very much,” Jinichi replied, meeting your stare unyieldingly. “I would never try to hurt my own flesh and blood.”

“Then why did you whip his back with that cane? You made him bleed.”

It didn’t matter what you said; no one believed you, not even your parents. They brushed it off on you, spending too much time in the sun that day, confusing brotherly roughhousing for an attack, but you knew better.

Your parents promised them that a proper punishment would be doled out, and the Zenins warned them against letting you wander too far again, for they wouldn’t be so lenient next time. You were spanked for your crimes that night, sent to bed with a sore behind and an empty stomach, with a long list of chores for you to complete the next day.

You gave it a few months before curiosity got the better of you and led you back up the hill toward the gardens of the Zenin property, only this time, there was a tall privacy fence in place. You paced the perimeter of it, running your fingers along the sturdy, wooden grooves until boredom struck, and you retreated back to your own home.

Months continued, turning into years. 

Sometimes you’d venture up the hill just to have a walk through the woods when you needed to clear your mind. And sometimes you found yourself lingering a little too long near the fence, just listening to what went on on the other side. Maybe that was creepy, but as always, you were just curious. You lived so close to the Zenins– everyone in the area knew them, everyone talked about them, and you were lucky enough to be within walking distance of their home.

Besides, what else was there to do? Your little farmhouse could only keep you entertained for so long, and it had since run out of inspiration– about ten years ago, actually. Life in your childhood home was boring, stale, so… dull. So, yes, you indulged your curiosities every once in a while, prying into the lavish life of the Zenins, even if it would end up getting you in trouble.

Autumn had struck, the leaves were dying, but the sun reflecting off of them cast an orange hue in the air. All life had been stunted, it seemed, save for the green moss growing on the wooden fence. You ran your finger over it, picking off some sprigs and letting them sprinkle to the ground. The wind carried a chill, rustling the dead leaves, but the scent it brought was a nice one. You wondered if the city smelled just like this, and you found yourself hoping it did, for it would be the only thing you’d miss about your home if you ever moved away.

You ventured further away that day, straying too far from the normal path, which you would need to take to get home. The distance made you feel a little giddy, and the uncharted territory felt fun. You wondered why you hadn’t done it sooner, until you were reminded of why– staying on the normal path ensured a quick escape back to your home, should you ever get caught stalking the Zenin’s property again.

And, unfortunately, you had just been caught. You were sure of it the second you locked stares with familiar green eyes that were perched at the very top of the fence. While yours widened in shock, his remained the same– dull, almost lifeless, yet you knew he was seeing you because they followed your movements, unblinkingly.

You weren’t sure what to say as you looked up at him, wondering how he took on such a relaxed, nonchalant position while balancing on top of a tall privacy fence. It scaled taller than your own house and would definitely ensure a few broken bones if you were to fall, though he seemed to be at ease.

“You usually don’t come down this far,” he said, breaking the silence with a voice that was far deeper than you remembered. Granted, it’s been years, so you suppose it checks out.

“You were watching me?”

“Only sometimes,” he offered with a shrug, standing to his feet on top of the fence.

“Hey,” you gasped, “be careful!” 

But he was already moving, jumping from the top of the fence and catching himself on a thick branch of a tree. He let himself dangle there for a moment before dropping to his feet, landing with grace right in front of you. And as he stood to his full height, you were made aware that his voice was not the only thing that changed about him, but his body, too; most notably, a wicked scar on his upper lip. Part of you wanted to ask about its origins, but another part of you knew better than to pry for that information– it seemed personal.

“That’s really dangerous! A fall from that height could have broken a bone!”

“But I caught myself on the tree,” he argued playfully.

“And if you hadn’t?”

He glanced up at the fence, gauging its height before shrugging. “I’d reckon I’d still be fine. I’ve fallen from higher places.”

You held a chastising finger at him, muttering, “That’s bad. Very bad.”

“M’not a dog, so don’t scold me like one.” He rolled his eyes, though he didn’t sound too irritated. “Anyway, what are you still doing coming up here? Ain’t you tired of looking at the same old fence yet?”

“No. The area is nice and peaceful.”

“And it isn’t nice and peaceful on your own property?”

With a tilt of your head, you asked, “Why does it feel like you’re trying to make me go home?”

“Maybe I just don’t like you being this close to my home. If you were smart, you wouldn’t like being this close either. Especially, after what happened last time.”

“You still remember that?”

“‘Course, I do. And probably just as vividly as you do, too,” he scoffed. “You shouldn’t come this close anymore. You’re just gonna get in trouble again if you get caught.”

You placed a hand on your hip, entirely unthreatened. “Are you going to snitch on me?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “No. So long as you stay on your side of the creek from now on, I’ll have no reason to.”

“Hmm…” You dropped your hand from your hip to cross your arms. “Well, I’m not going unless you come with me. I’ll need an escort back.”

“An escort?”

“Yes,” you stated firmly. “As you know, I’ve never been this far from my usual path. Who knows if I’ll be able to find my way back, rather than wandering further onto your property?”

He chuckled, bewildered by your suggestion. “Need me to hold your hand, too?”

“Yes, actually.” You held it out for him to take, making him lose his grin. He eyed your extended palm, watching as you flexed it, wordlessly prompting him to grab it, yet he didn’t. “Come on. We don’t have all day, do we?”

His eyes slid up to meet yours. “But I was only kidding-”

“I wasn’t.”

Toji’s lips parted to spew some kind of excuse, but nothing came out, and his mouth closed, opening once more to bite out, “Fine.” 

Hesitantly, he grabbed your hand, taking it in a tight fist. It wasn’t enough to hurt you, but it did startle you a little, especially when he tugged you to follow him. With a huff, you wrangled him back and forced him to take your hand properly. 

“Never held someone’s hand before or something?” you asked, interlocking your fingers. You let your connected hands fall between you. “There we go. That’s how you do it.” 

When you looked back up, he was glaring down at your hands, confused more than angry. And when he started pulling you away again, you didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were starting to turn red.

“You want to be friends?” Toji questioned you one night, brows furrowing deeply as he pointed to himself. “With me?”

You frowned, thinking back on the week you both had, where you’d meet every evening at the creek to hang out, wondering if you’d read the situation incorrectly– weren’t you two getting along? Or was he really just coming here out of some obligation? 

“Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with you? You’re cool.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course, I do.”

His confusion was palpable as he questioned again, “Really?”

You scoffed and reached over to flick his cheek. He reeled away with a surprised hiss, rubbing the growing red mark. “You’re cool, Toji. How many times do I have to say it?”

His hand went still on his face as he stared at you, probably trying to figure out if you were being genuine or not. Finally, he dropped his hand. “Okay. Yeah, sure. We can be friends. If you want.”

When silence ensued, inching toward something awkward, you reached forward and poked his cheek. “Hey. Don’t be all weird now. That’s not cool at all.”

With a smushed cheek, he mumbled, “I’m not being weird.”

“Swear?”

“Swear.”

“Good.” You dropped your hand with a satisfied smile and relaxed back on the ground, closing your eyes and paying no mind to the crunch of the leaves below your head. “Lay down, too.”

You didn’t see him move, but you heard the leaves crunch as he relaxed beside you, just close enough to barely brush your shoulders together.

After a few minutes of quiet autumn breezes, he asked, “You really think I’m cool?”

“Toji, the fact that you keep asking is making it weird.”

In only a few months, the two of you had grown close. No longer were you two just friends; you were best friends. 

Even as the season chilled into winter, you two would still frequently meet at the creek, though when the snow started falling, your hangouts were often cut short due to the cold, and sometimes, you didn’t meet at all. 

But that was fine; you missed him, of course, but you knew that he didn’t want you trekking through the snow, just like you didn’t want him to do that either.

Toward the end of that year, a winter storm blew in. He told you the week before it happened that you shouldn’t meet at the creek. And you agreed with him, with the exception being the evening of his birthday, of course. He implored that it was fine, that you didn’t need to risk your health and safety for such a stupid reason, but you insisted, and finally, he relented. Toji promised to meet you out there on his birthday.

Yet, as you stood at the creek on the 31st of December, bundled up and shivering, you realized Toji might’ve forgotten– which was fine. It was his 16th birthday, after all, and he was probably busy with family obligations. 

Okay, it hurt a little bit that he forgot, but you tried your best not to let it get to you. You only wanted to give him the gift you made for him– granted, it was a silly gift, but you thought he’d appreciate it.

But it was fine. You could always give it to him another time.

You retreated back to your house, stopping just inside the door to peel your many layers off. You snuck past the living room, where your parents were bringing in the new year with their friends, playing card games, drinking, eating, laughing. You crossed your fingers, hoping they didn’t stop to ask why you were back so soon. As far as they were concerned, you were going out with a friend– a friend who was a girl you met at school, and not an infamous Zenin boy, who you were forbidden from talking to.

Once you made it to your room undetected, you changed into your pajamas, turned on quiet music, and started working on the project you left behind a few hours ago: a half-knitted sweater. Well, half was an overstatement; you’d barely finished one of the sleeves. Knitting wasn’t your strong suit, and it wasn’t all that fun, but it kept your hands busy.

Entirely immersed in your work, you were almost dead to the world, which is why when your bedroom window was abruptly pushed open, you screamed– 

Until you realized it was only Toji, with a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. Quickly, you slapped your hand over your mouth, and your other over your racing heart. You both stayed silent, listening for your parents' concerned questions, but the loud chatter of them with their friends let you know they hadn’t heard a thing. 

Only then did you speak, and it was to harshly whisper, “Jesus! You scared me!”

“I was throwing pebbles at your window for five minutes. Should’ve known you were… knitting?” He waved a confused hand at the mess of tan yarn in your lap. “Since when have you known how to do that?”

“Since two weeks ago, but that’s not important. What are you doing here?”

He drew his eyes away from your lap. “You didn’t wait for me at the creek.”

“I did. For two hours. Figured you were busy with your party or something, but it’s no big deal. You didn’t have to come all the way down here on your birthday. I could’ve given you your gift later.” You placed your yarn and knitting needles aside to slide off your bed and retrieve his present. 

When you stood in front of him, holding a small box behind your back, he eyed you suspiciously. “You got me a gift?”

“Of course, I got you a gift. It’s your birthday. Now, close your eyes.” He cocked a brow, hesitating until you snapped, “Close them. Now.”

And he did.

Once you placed the gift box in his hand, you added, “It’s nothing crazy. You might even think it’s stupid-”

“What? No, I– shut up, you didn’t-” Your brows furrowed, and he instantly backpedaled. “Sorry. Don’t shut up. That’s not– I just-”

“Open the damn box, Toji.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the lid away, placing it on your nightstand before reaching in to grab the gift. Between his two fingers, he held up the woven tendril of green strands, inspecting it with a frown. “A bracelet?”

You nodded and held up your own wrist, displaying the one you made for yourself. “A friendship bracelet.”

“Oh,” he murmured, still looking it over with curiosity. 

Your stomach started to churn with nerves, which led to you blurting out, “I told you it wasn’t anything crazy, I said it was stupid-” His eyes flicked to yours, widening just enough as you continued, “You’re probably used to the fancy stuff– gold and silver and diamonds, which is fine. I mean, your family is loaded, so that’s to be expected. Just give that back, I’m sorry-”

When you went to grab it, he jerked it out of your reach. “No way. It’s mine.”

“It’s stupid, Toji.”

“It’s not stupid at all. It’s cool.” You slowly dropped your hands. “I’ve never had a friendship bracelet before; no one has ever… you really made this for me?”

“Well, yeah. And for me, too.” His eyes slid to your wrist, and he took your hand, bringing you closer so he could look at yours, too. The contact brought warmth to your face. “You like them?”

“Mhm, I do. You did a good job on them.”

“Thank you.” The warmth on your face only got hotter, but the praise was nice. “Do you want me to help you put yours on? They can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

He lowered your hand back to your side and handed his bracelet to you, offering you his wrist next. After securing it, you glanced at his face, taking note of the small smile that was on his mouth as he ran his finger over the woven pattern.

“Thank you. For the gift.”

The slight nervousness in your chest faded, and you smiled, too. “You’re welcome! I was really hoping you’d like it! I wasn’t sure what else to get you. I know you probably have everything you could ever want already.”

“...almost everything.”

“Hm?” 

You tilted your head in question, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced at the clock on your nightstand, then looked back at you. 

“My family is doing fireworks for the New Year.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement. “I love fireworks!”

“Wanna go watch them?” he asked. “The roof would be the perfect spot.”

“The roof? Like, the roof of my house?” When he nodded, you asked, “How are we supposed to get up there?” 

He slipped out of his coat, handing it to you, then moved toward the open window. As you slid your arms into the warmth, sufficiently wrapping yourself up in it, he inched outside, far enough that it worried you. 

“Hey, Toji, that’s not safe. You could fall-”

But your warning was too late. He somehow managed to pull himself off the windowsill using the gutter of your house, and then proceeded to defy gravity by vaulting onto the roof. Naturally, you were concerned and rushed over to the window, only when you peered up at the roof, he leaned over the edge and offered you his hand.

“You’re insane if you think I’m doing that.”

“Come on,” he tutted teasingly. “Don’t be a chicken.”

“You could drop me.”

“I swear, I won’t. And if I do, I’d be down there to catch you before you hit the ground.”

Your eyes widened, head shaking in disbelief. “What? You think you’re a superhero, or something?”

He snorted. “Definitely not, but I trust myself enough not to let you fall.”

“You can trust yourself all you want, but I’m the one who needs to trust you right now. And I definitely do not.”

He clicked his tongue. “You should.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you mean a lot to me, and I’d never suggest anything that would get you hurt.” You stared at his hand again, watching him flex it open. “Come on. You made me a friendship bracelet and everything. You have to trust me at least a little bit, right?”

“Toji-”

“And it’s my birthday, so you kinda have to do everything I say.”

Your lips pressed into a flat line as you eyed the distance from your window to the ground.

“Damn you.” 

With a groan, you grabbed his hand, squeezed your eyes shut, and braced for the ground, but the fall didn’t come; Toji lifted you onto the roof as if you weighed nothing, letting you stumble right onto his lap. You gripped the fabric on his shoulders, peering behind you and over the edge of the roof– such a long way down. 

“You’re very bold, you know that?”

He chuckled and pulled you off his lap, placing you beside him. “One day, you’ll finally trust me.”

“Maybe so, but that day is not today. You’ll have to prove yourself a few more times.” You moved closer to his side, noticing his thin, long-sleeved shirt. “Hey, aren’t you cold?”

“I’m fine, really-” You slid back onto his lap, sitting back toward his knees so it wasn’t entirely inappropriate. “Really, I’m not-”

“Do you want to catch a cold? No, you don’t. So put your arms in here.” You opened the jacket, shivering as the cold air chilled you through your pajamas. “Hurry before all the warm air gets out.”

Sounding flustered, he muttered, “Where am I supposed to-” You grabbed his arms, led them inside the jacket, and wrapped them around your waist. “Oh.”

“Isn’t that better?”

You heard him swallow before humming, “Mhm.” 

He relaxed into your touch after a few moments and even pulled you forward to get closer. Despite your initial thoughts, straddling his lap this closely didn’t feel inappropriate at all. It felt comforting and safe, like you wouldn’t mind staying there for the rest of your life.

The fireworks started a little while later, lighting up the sky with bright flashes of vibrant colors. Both of you watched them in contented silence– it was nice. Really nice, even.

“You know, these are really good fireworks, but have you seen the ones they do in Osaka. For the summer festival?”

“No. Have you?”

You giggled, “No, but I saw them on TV last year. They’re super cool. We should go sometime.”

Through the sound of the distant explosions, you heard your parents and their friends count down from ten, and when the clock hit midnight, you didn’t hesitate to press your lips to Toji’s cheek. It wasn’t much, a gentle peck at most, but it was something that meant so much to both of you. 

Though at the time, neither of you was truly aware of the significance.

“Happy New Year,” you whispered when you pulled back to rest your cheek on his shoulder.

You weren’t sure if he said it back. 

If he did, you definitely couldn’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing through your head.

Toji moved off the Zenin property a few months after he turned 18. He came to see you when he could, but after being cut off from his family’s funds, he was stuck working a few part-time jobs, barely giving him any time off. You pretended it didn’t bother you too badly, but the reality of it was that without Toji there to keep you company, the place felt small and lonely. You were going stir-crazy, and the subtle comments from your parents, suggesting that you look for a place, were grating on your nerves. 

Which is why when Toji came to pick you up the night of your 18th birthday, you slumped down in his car with a box of items. He eyed them suspiciously, gaze flicking to you and your pleading look. Hesitantly, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Mind if I stay with you for a few days?”

He blinked a few times, inhaling deeply to ask, “Um, like… starting tonight?” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth when you nodded. “I’ve only got one bedroom. And it’s not on the nice side of town either.”

“Toji, if you don’t want me to stay, just say so-”

“No! That’s not it,” he rushed to say, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s just that… it’s kind of a shitty place, and I’m messy, and you’re not gonna like it.”

Catching sight of his reddening cheeks, you offered a soft smile. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It can’t be that bad. Besides, it’s just for a few days. I trust you to take care of me for a few days. And since it’s a one-bedroom, I can take the couch.”

“Well, I don’t have a couch. When I left the estate, I only brought a few changes of clothes, and the new place didn’t come furnished.”

“So, where do you sleep?”

The answer to that question: the fucking floor.

“Toji,” you sighed, taking a look around the bare space that was somehow messy, despite being almost empty. “You couldn’t have grabbed a futon before you left the estate?”

“Was kinda in a rush,” he sheepishly said. “Figured I’d get whatever I needed when I had time, but… sort of short on that, too. Plus, s’not like anyone else lives with me anyway, so it doesn’t bother me.” When you cast him a cool look, he winced. “Well, it bothers me now that you’re here.”

You let your eyes slip around the room. A dirty old rug, a basket of unfolded clothes, a foldable, metal chair, a scratched-up side table he probably picked up for free on the side of the road, and a gun– wait- 

“What is that for?!” You pointed at the weapon, and Toji followed your direction until he, too, spotted it. Quickly, he grabbed the gun and slipped it behind him, tucking it into his waistband as if that would magically erase the last two seconds from your mind. “Toji.”

“What? It’s a bad part of town, I told you already.”

“So, you have a gun, to do what with? Shoot people?”

He blinked a few times, lips parting in surprise before he forced them closed, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “No. I would never.” He eyed your unimpressed glare, offering up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “I swear.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, frown deepening before you dismissed it, muttering, “You better not. It would piss me off.” 

Toji let out a sigh of relief and moved aside, letting you venture deeper into the apartment. He let you explore, not that there was much of that to be done anyway. You found the bathroom– small and dingy– the kitchen was just the same. And when you were finished, you stood in front of him again, hand on your hip. 

“You were right. This place is shitty.” You gave the room another glance. “I’m not leaving until it’s at least somewhat suitable.”

“What?”

“What?” you countered, directing your stare at him. “You can’t live like this.”

“Yes, I can. I’ve been doing it for months now.”

“Well, I can’t live like this,” you argued, catching the way confusion flickered in his eyes. 

“You?”

“Me.” With a lazy wave of your hand, you explained, “My parents not-so-subtly suggested that I move out.”

Toji’s face slackened. “They kicked you out.”

“No, they suggested it was time for me to get my own place since I’m an adult now, so I thought I’d stay with you until I find an apartment. Just a few days.”

Toji cocked a brow. “You think you’re going to find a nice apartment to move into in just a few days?” When you nodded, he asked, “With what money?” With pursed lips, you shrugged, bringing him to sigh, “You’re not going to find a place in just a few days with no money.”

“Why not? You did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t? We’re in your apartment right now-” It clicked for you then. “This isn’t your apartment, is it?”

“It is.” He swallowed. “Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

He chewed on his bottom lip. “Well, not officially.”

“You’re squatting here,” you surmised, making him wince again.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t the most ideal situation, but you couldn’t be mad at Toji for it. It wasn’t like he expected you to throw yourself and all of your problems into his lap. However, that didn’t mean you could continue letting him live this way, squatting or not.

You let out a huff and rubbed at your eyes, feeling tired already. “Okay. It’s fine. We can just… figure it out tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. You need a place to live– a real place that is your own– and so do I, so we can start looking tomorrow. Or better yet, I can start looking tomorrow, since you’re keen on living in squalor. But once I find a place, you’re moving in with me. No more of… this.” You motioned to the space around you. “Now, is there anything else you wanna tell me? You’re technically homeless, are you jobless, too?”

“No. I… work.”

His tone was hesitant– less than trustworthy now that you’ve seen all of this.

“Is it ethical?” He didn’t answer, but he did look guilty, and you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay,” you sighed again. “Last question, do you have enough money to buy dinner? I’m broke.”

You moved into a new apartment only a few weeks after leaving your house. It wasn’t much better than the previous place, but at least it was in a better part of town.

You quickly found out that living with Toji wasn’t bad at all. You both respected each other’s privacy and kept communication open to voice concerns about your living arrangement. When you had friends over, you made sure to keep out of Toji’s way, and he kept out of yours. However, he never brought people over– you suspected he didn’t have any friends other than you, but there were a few times you overheard him talking on the phone to someone named Shiu.

The bills were split equally, with you handing over your share to Toji, so he could pay them off with the landlord. At first, your friend insisted that he could cover the expenses, but you wouldn’t let that slide– you couldn’t just live with him and not contribute; this was a shared space.

You each had your own bedroom, which was sort of a moot point, as Toji so rarely slept in his room, often opting to crash on the couch when he’d come back from work instead. He usually stayed out all night and slept all day, and while that concerned you, you didn’t bring up what his job consisted of again– ignorance is bliss, and all that.

Well, as it turns out, ignorance is bliss until you’re forced to see first-hand the very thing you’d been turning a blind eye to.

You had left work early that day, not feeling the greatest after having just gotten over a cold. You attempted to tough it out since your job wasn’t really grueling at all– the little antique shop didn’t get that much business, which left you sitting at the counter, bored out of your mind as you worked through your puzzle book. But after listening to you sniffle and groan one too many times, your boss sent you home with strict orders to rest up.

With a headache pounding behind your eyes and a grumbling stomach that was practically begging for something warm, you relented. Miso soup, a bit of knitting, and a nap sounded heavenly. But when you stepped into your apartment, you quickly realized that a relaxing afternoon was not in store for you. 

The first clue was the trail of red droplets staining your rug, leading you toward the kitchen. The next clue was the bloodied wrap and towels lying on the floor, and next, pieces from the first aid kit strewn across the counter, as if someone had messily searched for what they needed and left the mess behind.

You weren’t dumb. You knew what all of this was, what it meant, and who had caused it. And all of that was proved correct when you found him in the bathroom, standing and leaning back against the sink, shirt pulled up his torso and held secure in his mouth, as he sewed up the large, seeping gash in his abdomen. 

Time froze for a moment.

You stared at him; he stared back. Both of you were equally as shocked as the other.

And then he opened his mouth, his shirt falling to cover the wound as he broke the silence to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“I– um…” You continued to stare at his torso, even if you couldn’t see the marred skin anymore. “Came home early. Wasn’t feeling well.” You raised a shaky hand, pointing at his abdomen. “What happened?”

“Just had a little accident. Nothing to worry about.”

Your bottom lip quivered from the stress. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Not lying, it’s really nothing.” The guilt on his face only worsened. “Please, don’t cry. I’m fine-”

“You’re bleeding.” 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I swear-”

Neither of you had realized you crossed the bathroom until you stood right in front of him, holding a tight hand over his mouth to make him shut up. His eyes widened, but he didn’t try to push you away. With your other hand, you pulled his shirt back up to inspect the wound.

“Wh-Who did that to you?” You removed your hand so he could answer, yet the most you got was a choked-back groan. “Answer me-”

“I don’t know. You think he gave me his name before he shoved a knife in my side?”

You felt tears roll down your cheeks when you blinked, which Toji wiped away with his knuckle, muttering, “It’s okay. Really.”

“It’s not-”

“It is,” he insisted, pulling his shirt out of your hand to cover the wound again. “Trust me. Please.”

Doing so was a mistake– you knew that. 

But you couldn’t help it. You did trust him.

So, when he asked you to forget about it, when he told you that it wouldn’t happen again, you believed him.

You trusted his promise to you, knowing that it was empty.

You knew that it would happen again, but you also knew that when the next time came around, you wouldn’t be there to see it. 

Toji would make sure of it.

“How’d you get that scar on your lip?” you asked him one evening after years of wanting to know its backstory. Originally, you thought it might be too personal, but with a few drinks in your system, the question came out easily. 

Thankfully, Toji didn’t seem to mind it either. He nursed his nth beer bottle in one hand, the other resting behind you on the back of the couch as you both watched some stupid TV show you’d heard about from your friends. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he answered, “I tripped and fell. Smacked my face off the wall.”

“Mm. Seems pretty tame compared to the other scars on your body. I thought that one would be more… significant, you know?”

“Significant…” he mused, leaning forward to set his bottle on the coffee table, dragging back with him a new one. “I think you mean dramatic.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

As he twisted off the bottle cap, he chuckled. “Okay. What if I said that my family threw me into this special room? And that this room was filled with things that want to hurt you, but they’re invisible.”

“Like ghosts?”

“Mhm, like ghosts. And what if I said that these ghosts are how I got this scar? Would that be significant and dramatic enough for you?”

Your nose crinkled. “That would be too much, actually. Ghosts aren’t real. And your family sucks, but… they’re not that cruel, are they?”

He snorted. “You tell me. You stalked our backyard for years.”

“Yeah, but I never saw anyone get dragged into any haunted dungeon.”

“Right,” he mused, bringing the bottle to his lips. “A haunted dungeon isn’t very realistic. The walking into a wall thing makes way more sense.”

You squinted at him as if that would help decipher what he was trying to say. “You’re being weird tonight.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You leaned into his side, soaking up the warmth. 

Minutes later, his arm inched off the back of the couch to rest over your shoulders. When his arm dipped lower behind you, his hand splayed against your waist, you tried to pretend like it didn’t bother you much.

But the reality of it left you with heated cheeks and a heartbeat that was too fast to be normal.

It was only in this moment that you realized the feelings you harbored for your friend strayed far past platonic.

The revelation of your new feelings was nearly debilitating. No longer could you talk to Toji for longer than five minutes without stuttering over your words or blushing like an idiot. If he noticed, he never pointed it out– thankfully, and in turn, you never pointed out when he was flustered either, which happened more often than you’d think. It used to be over the little things, like a simple hug, an accidental touch of hands, or when he’d let you borrow his jacket because you were too stubborn to grab your own, even after he told you it was cold outside. 

But things escalated, much like they always do.

You were running late that morning. All you needed was your work outfit, which you’d forgotten to grab from the dryer before taking your shower because again, you were running late, leaving you in a frazzled state. You did remember your underwear, though– lucky you.

Your washer and dryer unit occupied a small alcove in the hallway beside the bathroom. Depending on where you stood in the kitchen, you would be able to see down the same hallway. 

With this knowledge in mind, you made sure to call Toji’s name before you stepped out of the bathroom, just to make sure he had enough time to cover his eyes. 

When you received no response from him, you hurriedly rushed to the dryer, holding an arm to your bare chest for coverage. Bent at the waist, you filtered through the mess of dried clothes to find your outfit, freezing in place when you heard his sharp intake of air. You stood straight just in time to see him pulling his earbuds from his ears and turning around. 

“Jesus,” Toji breathed, “Warn a guy next time.”

“I called your name.”

“Apparently not fucking loud enough since I just had to see your tits.”

“Oh, like that’s such a bother,” you scoffed, bending over to look for your clothes again.

“It is a bother. It’s going to bother me for the rest of the day now. Maybe even the rest of the week.”

“I had them covered with my hand!”

“Barely!”

You snorted, mumbling, “God, you act as if you’ve never seen boobs before.”

“I haven’t. Not in person anyway, and definitely not yours-”

“Wait.”

“What?”

You slammed the dryer door shut, clothing in your arms, and stood straight to face him, though he couldn’t see you with his back turned to you. “You’ve never seen boobs?”

“Not in person,” he reiterated tersely. “I mean, I used to have this magazine-”

“Stop. I don’t need to know that.”

“Okay, so…”

“Are you a virgin then?”

Redness crept up the back of his neck as he defensively said, “So are you.”

“How do you know?”

“Maybe because we’re from the middle of bumfuck nowhere, so unless you managed to screw one of my cousins without me knowing about it, you’re still a virgin, too.”

“I could’ve brought someone over here, you know? It’s not like you’re here during the night that much anyway. How would you have known?”

Toji’s shoulders tensed.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel like arguing anymore. It was stupid to begin with. Now, you were just poking the bear and wasting time when you’re already late for work.

Lowly, he asked, “Have you had someone over?”

“No. Not for that.”

“Good. Don’t. Ever.”

Your frowned. “Why not?”

“Because this is our apartment, meaning it’s my place just as much as it’s yours. How would you like it if I brought over a woman you didn’t know, and I didn’t run it past you first?”

“I don’t know.” 

You hated the idea, actually. Loathed it, even.

“Okay, well, I do know that if I catch some man in here, it’s going to piss me off. So, just… just tell me, or something. I’ll make sure I’m not here, and you can let me know when he’s gone.”

“Or we could just-” 

You cut yourself off before that word vomit could spew from your mouth. But the beginning part was already out there. Toji heard you.

“We could just, what?”

Fuck. We could just fuck. Each other. Together.

But you were smart enough to know why saying that would be idiotic.

“Nothing! I didn’t mean to say that! And I’m late for work! So, I have to finish getting ready!”

You trapped yourself in the bathroom after that, making sure that you heard Toji’s bedroom door shut before even thinking of leaving for work for the day. You had wasted an extra half hour in the bathroom, so by the time you made it to work, almost an hour late, to say your boss was less than enthused would be an understatement.

The realization of your crush on Toji, paired with the acknowledgement of just how attractive this man was, was a lethal combination for your sanity. You tried your best not to let it bother you, and for the most part, you had succeeded. But there were moments where you couldn’t help it– you would end up flustered beyond the normal amount, and having him watch you stutter your way through some half-assed explanation as to why you were suddenly going shy on him only made it worse. 

Thankfully, he never picked on you for it– not excessively, at least. Most of the time, it was a subtle acknowledgement that he noticed you acting timid, and then he’d allow you to escape from the situation with the small bits of your dignity that you had left– a simple kindness, really. It was the least he could do, or so you thought. 

However, there were times when your friend wasn’t feeling very merciful at all.

You had been sitting on the couch, knitting away with a blank mind, when you heard him call out your name from the hallway.

“Yeah?” you responded, not even looking up from your knitting needles.

“Remember that shirt I let you borrow last week?”

 One of his work shirts that you had taken to sleep in that night. You were feeling bloated, and your tight pajamas weren’t the least bit comfortable.

“Uh huh.”

“And do you remember when I said not to dry it?”

Your hands went still as you thought back on the interaction you’d had with him a few days ago– did he tell you not to dry the shirt?

“Uhh-” You looked up when a shadow fell over you, wide eyes settling on Toji’s exposed abdomen, which the shirt– the very tight, very small shirt– didn’t cover. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he retorted. “You ruined it.”

“Ruined? I wouldn’t say that.” When you finally managed to drag your eyes up to his face, you were met with an amused look. It was only then that you realized your mistake– openly checking out your best friend. It brought a scorching heat to your face. “That’s not– I didn’t– what I meant– I just-”

No mercy wasn’t granted then. 

Toji let you stutter it out, watching you nearly combust in front of him with a grin on his face.

You just barely managed to collect yourself enough to choke out, “It doesn’t look bad. Really. It’s… fine.”

“Just fine?” he pried for more, knowing you were too embarrassed to realize it for yourself. 

“It’s good. Really good. Great, even.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Yeah.” You swallowed thickly and forced your shaky hands to start knitting again. 

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe I should just wear it to work then. Since it’s not as bad as I think it is.”

“Oh, you should. You definitely should.”

You pretended you didn’t hear his quiet laughter as he grabbed his zip-up hoodie from the front door. He slid on his shoes and grabbed his keys.

“I’ll be back later than usual. Probably after midnight.”

“Mhm. Okay.”

“You know who to call if you need me, right?”

“For sure.” 

You heard his laughter one last time before he stepped out the door, closing it behind him. Once you were alone, you dropped your knitting needles and covered your face, letting the mortification creep in while muttering, “Oh, my god,” into your palms.

You weren’t the only one getting flustered in that apartment. Toji had his fair share of moments, too, and you ate each one up like it was candy. 

Like the time you were cutting his hair and flashed your chest on accident.

Or the time when you were bent over in the kitchen, cleaning out one of the lower cabinets, and he happened to walk in behind you.

Or when the electricity in your apartment had cut out during winter, and you asked for cuddles to keep yourself warm.

All of these moments were innocent– mostly innocent, at least.

The only time it wasn’t completely innocent was the day you asked to kiss him.

It was out of the blue, a spur-of-the-moment type of deal– you were feeling impulsive and curious, and Toji was just there, oblivious to the thoughts going through your head as you approached him in the kitchen. 

With a light tap on his shoulder, he briefly glanced back at you and smiled before returning to the task of restocking the first-aid kit– something that happened quite frequently. 

“Need something?”

“Possibly.”

He hummed, “Well, if it’s a plain, boring bandage you’re looking for, I hate to disappoint.” He reached into the drug-store bag on the counter, pulling out a box of themed bandages. “They only had pink princess ones, so-”

“I don’t need a bandage.”

“Something from the cabinet then? Just gimme a second, and I’ll move out of your way-”

“Toji.”

Hearing your tone, he paused and then set down the first-aid items to turn and face you. When you stayed quiet, his brows raised in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.

“Nothing’s wrong. Not yet, anyway. I suppose it depends on how you take this.” Your short explanation seemed to only concern him more. “I just… well, I wanted to talk to you about something. And if you’re not okay with it, that’s completely fine. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, or upset, or– or… ruin our friendship– I don’t want you to hate me, or think I’m weird, or crazy-”

“Did you do something bad?” he interjected, placing a hand on your shoulder. “If you did, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Huh?”

“You look guilty. If you killed someone, just let me know where the body is, and I-”

“Toji, I– no! That’s not-!”

“Then you need someone taken care of? All I need to know is what they look like-”

“No! No one is dead, no one is dying!”

He raised his voice just a little to ask, “Then why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Like what?!”

“Like you need me to do something for you. Whatever it is, I can get it done. You don’t have to be afraid to ask. I won’t be mad at you-”

“A kiss! I was going to ask for a kiss!”

There. It was out in the open for the universe to mock you for. 

You wanted to kiss Toji. 

And now he knew that you wanted to kiss him, too.

The silence that ensued was terrifying.

The bewildered eye contact might’ve been worse.

“I– um…” He laughed nervously. “What?”

You took it back. The silence and eye contact were the least of your worries.

“A kiss, Toji. You kiss me.” You pointed between yourself and him. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t say much of anything, actually.” While you stood there, watching such a redness bloom over his cheeks, you sighed, “I’m only curious. I’m twenty and have no idea what it’s like.” 

“And you think I do?”

“I– no? I guess not. Look, it doesn’t have to mean anything. If you’re saving it for someone else, that’s fine. Just say so. Or if you don’t want to do that with me, I understand. I just thought that since we’re friends, it would be easier to do it together. More comfortable and stuff.”

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “No, that uh– that makes sense. We should… do that.”

You smiled, trying your best to be as comforting as possible, but really, you were freaking out on the inside. You’re sure Toji was feeling the same, though he was less subtle about it than you were. 

“Okay. Go on,” you prompted.

“Go on and do what?”

Your face slackened. “Kiss me, stupid.”

“S-Sure.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you heard him stutter– if he’s ever even done it before. You also pretended not to notice him not-so-subtly wipe his palms off on his pants. 

To help, you took the initiative of wrapping your arms around his neck to reel him in closer, letting him almost stumble into you and place his hands on your waist to steady himself. You felt the tips of his fingers sink into your skin, and you swore you could see his heartbeat in his chest.

“You seem nervous,” you lilted, hoping to lighten the mood, but it didn’t. Not for Toji, anyway; he was still just staring at your mouth.

And then, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

You snorted, “Really? I didn’t know.”

His green eyes flicked to yours. “It’s gonna be bad.”

You shrugged. “Probably, but I’m not expecting fireworks or anything, okay? If it’s the worst thing ever, then who cares? It’s not like there’s anyone here besides us, and I’m not going to judge you for a bad kiss. But if it’ll make you feel better, I can close my eyes.”

He nodded, entirely serious. “Okay. Do that.”

“I was joking, Toji.”

“I wasn’t.”

You giggled, “Fine. I’ll close them.”

You felt him lean in closer. You felt the lightest bit of breath brush over your face. You felt his hands tighten on your waist. 

You felt his lips against your cheek.

With a small grin, unable to help yourself, you mumbled, “You needed me to close my eyes for that?”

And then you felt his lips press against your own.

It took you a moment to realize it for yourself, to process that this was it, you were kissing him. And once you came to terms with it, you kissed him back. Soft and slow, timid almost, like you were both too shy to push for something more. 

But that was okay; this pace was perfect. As a matter of fact, the whole thing was perfect.

When you parted from one another, you forced your eyes to open and were lucky enough to witness the deepest blush known to man covering Toji’s face. 

“Oh.” You stifled your laugh behind your hand. “Your cheeks are so red.”

“Shut up,” he groaned, tugging you forward with the hands on your hips, only to press his face into your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” you cooed condescendingly. “No need to be embarrassed.”

“You’re the worst.”

You sighed in content, leaning into him for a sloppy sort of hug. “It was a good kiss, though.”

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “I liked it a lot.”

“Me, too,” he said quietly, voice muffled in your shoulder. Just barely, he leaned back to ask, “Can I– can we, um… do it again?”

You wrote it off as practice; it’s what kept your friendship intact, to make sure that the kisses, while intimate, would never damage what you already had together. And after a few months, you were certain your plan was flawless. A few pecks here and there– in the morning, before bed, random ones throughout the day if you were feeling confident enough; it was nothing crazy, but it was nice.

The kisses also seemed to be a gateway to be more… touchy-feely. Of course, the touches weren’t inappropriate in the slightest. Cuddling on the couch, leaning into his side in the checkout line at the supermarket, holding his hand as you walked around the block, it was all so innocent. 

The kisses couldn’t change the fact that he was still your best friend.

They could, however, make you question why you two were still only friends after everything you’ve done together, but you didn’t like to think about that part very often. 

You were sprawled out on the couch, legs resting over his thighs as you flipped through the channels. You’d been at it for ten minutes, and you’re sure Toji was getting tired of your indecisiveness. If you were being honest, so were you. With a sigh, you swung your legs off his lap and tossed the remote down beside him. 

“You pick something while I’m gone.”

He clicked his tongue and grabbed your arms as you passed him. “Where are you going?”

“I gotta pee. Let go.”

And he did let go.

Right after tugging you back down onto the couch just to be annoying.

“Ass,” you cursed without any real heat, getting up once more and only making it as far as you did last time before he pulled you back again. This time, he brought you down for a kiss, a quick one.

“I can pick whatever I want?” he asked so nicely, sliding his grip on your arm down to your hand. 

It caught you off guard– the sweetness of it.

“Huh?”

“On TV,” he amended, moving your hand, pressing the tips of his fingers to yours. 

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

He traced the tip of his finger up the inside of your wrist while waiting for your answer. 

“Really.”

The look in his eyes when you said that turned into something smug, knocking you out of your stupor.

You realized your mistake then.

“Wait, no. It’s Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.” Toji grinned and let go of you completely to grab the remote. “Which means the horse races are on all day-”

“No!” you protested, launching over him to grab the remote, forgetting entirely about your full bladder. “Horse racing is sooo boring!”

“Come on now, it’s so cool.”

You writhed in his lap, fighting for the remote that was always just out of reach. “You don’t even bet on them! What’s the point?!”

“I bet on them. Mentally.”

“Oh, my god, you’re twenty-one. Stop acting like such an old man-” 

His movements were always too fast for you. There was no way for you to get the remote out of his hands unless you caught him off guard, which you had learned wasn’t that difficult.

With a hand on his jaw, you angled his face enough to lean forward and kiss him. You didn’t wait to slip your tongue into his mouth the first chance you had, knowing that would only throw him off even more. And your plan worked well. 

Seconds after you kissed him, he was kissing you back, pulling on your waist to situate you over his lap. You let him think you had no other intentions with the kiss, allowing him to slide his hand to your hip and squeeze just enough to feel it. Though he still held onto that remote with his other hand. 

Feeling a bit daring, and maybe curious, too, you rolled your hips forward against his slowly. His mouth went just the slightest bit slack on yours, and he groaned when you moved against him again.

From beside you, you heard the remote hit the couch cushion, followed by his hand settling on your hip, sliding down to guide you to move again. You felt him getting hard between your legs– this was nothing new for you. There were many times when you were simply kissing that you accidentally brushed against it.

This, however, was intentional.

You let him do it again and again until you were sure he was so caught up in you that he forgot about the horse races completely. Once you were certain he was distracted, you pulled back, grabbed the remote, and slid off his lap to stand in front of him.

“No,” he whined, leaning his head back and covering his face with both hands. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair. Especially when your best friend was going to subject you to horse racing torture.”

“It’s interesting! And you promised!”

You clicked your tongue and tossed the remote into his lap. “Fine. But my favorite show comes on at two, and we’re watching it. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels. 

You gave the top of his head a few pats.

“Good boy.”

As you made your way to the bathroom, you didn’t notice the way his face warmed at those two words.

The kissing was good. It was great, even.

But it wasn’t satiating that urge, which left you outrageously horny.

It usually wasn’t an issue. Toji wasn’t there most nights, so you were free to do whatever you needed to without the fear of being overheard.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Toji’s job– whatever that was– didn’t require him at the moment, which meant he'd been there for three days and three nights, giving you no time at all to get the job done yourself. And to top it off, PMS was kicking your ass with the cramps, so there were no orgasms to help with that, nor did you have your heating pad because it finally kicked the bucket.

“I can go get you more pain relievers. It wouldn’t take that long,” Toji offered from the threshold of your room. He had come to check on you after you disappeared just before dinner, finding you on your bed, curled up on your side to hold your stomach.

“It’s fine. They aren’t the worst. They’re just making me tired and nauseous.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Mm, you can lie down with me. We can take a nap.”

He exhaled a laugh. “Alright.”

Cuddling on the couch wasn’t a new concept. Lying down in a bed together definitely was.

He didn’t even get underneath the blanket, and made sure he kept a couple of inches of distance between you to maintain some friendly boundary. But boundaries be damned– consensually, of course.

“You can come closer if you want to,” you said, looking back at him to see that he was staring at the ceiling, his hands folded on his stomach. “You know I don’t bite.”

“Just… trying to be respectful,” he defended lightly, moving closer until his shoulder brushed your back.

“I appreciate that, but come closer. Like how we do it on the couch.” It took a moment, but you finally felt the bed shift behind you, and then his hand was sliding over your waist, pulling your back to his chest. You let out a sigh, wriggling back to get even closer. “This is nice.”

“Mm, it is.” 

His thumb stroked your waist, right at the bottom hem of your shirt. The sound of his breathing was light, comforting in a way. Had your guts not been trying to rip your insides apart with cramps, you almost could have enjoyed the moment.

When you sucked in a breath on a particularly sharp cramp, the tips of his fingers dug just a bit deeper into your side, a show of his concern. 

It was cute. You appreciated it.

But you wanted more.

Taking his hand, you guided it to your lower abdomen, letting it slip under your shirt to settle on your skin.

“Can you hold me right there? Is that okay?”

His face leaned into your shoulder, warm cheek pressed to your neck. “If it helps you, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you.”

Rather than replying verbally, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

And that contact was great.

For all of five minutes before your hips twitched, arousal was building between your legs, and all from a simple, innocent touch. 

You squeezed your thighs together, squirming a bit in search of friction. If only you could slip your hand between your legs to grind against your fist, you’d be fine. 

But Toji would definitely notice that.

You tried to keep the squirming to a minimum; you didn’t want him to take his hand away. 

“I know you don’t mean it,” Toji finally choked out, trailing off as your writhing slackened. “You’re moving around...”

“S-Sorry, it’s just…” With no excuse, you added, “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he mumbled, probably growing tired in the warm, dim room, just like you were. “It’s just frustrating for me, too.”

“Sorry,” you said again, and stopped moving.

That is, until another cramp had you tensing up, and that hand on your lower stomach smoothed over your skin, just barely dipping into the waistband on your shorts before settling in the right spot again. You couldn’t help it; your thighs squeezed, and you squirmed.

“Baby-”

“I-” You swallowed down the whine building in the back of your throat before reaching back for his cock. He jerked at the feeling, thrusting toward you with a choked groan. Slowly, you tilted your hips back, pressing against him before cautiously asking, “Can we? Just this once?”

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew it had to be beet red. But teasing him about his inexperience wasn’t what you wanted to do at that moment. What you wanted was to get off, to stop the cramps for at least a little while, and to sleep.

A tired, nervous chuckle vibrated against your shoulder blade as he pulled his hand away, tilting his hips away from you. “Um, I don’t know how to do… that-”

You drew back, the sting of rejection prickling all over. “Sorry. You’re right, that’s a lot-” 

“Don’t be sorry. I want to help, but I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t… want to screw it up.” 

“O-Okay.”

Awkward silence gathered quickly in the room.

“Can we try something else?” he asked quietly, reaching out for you again.

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

His hand trailed out from behind your legs, moving to your hip to give it a gentle nudge– not to push you away, just to tilt them in a way that he had more access to your ass. He grabbed the waistband of your shorts, stopping to ask, “Can I take these off?”

You swallowed thickly, still feeling confused, but you nodded anyway. Toji helped you out of them, tossing the pair aside and situating you again. You were nearly lying on your stomach, but with your hips still propped on your side. You grabbed your pillow, pressing your face into it to hide your embarrassment– you’d never been this bare in front of anyone, let alone Toji.

And he was still right behind you, holding himself up on his side while running his other hand up and down your bare thigh. His touch disappeared for a moment before coming back with two wet fingers swiping up and down your slit. You tensed, gasping quietly as he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder, groaning under his breath, “fuck me.”

“T-Toji.”

“Can I?” He traced his fingers over your entrance. “Right here?”

“Please,” you begged, “please, please, please-” He started with one, pressing inside before drawing back out to add the second, reaching so much deeper than your fingers ever would. With a whine, you brought one of your hands between your legs to play with your clit, circling it slowly to match the pace of his fingers. “Yes, fuck…” 

You felt his heavy breaths against your shoulder; he was getting himself worked up, too, despite receiving not a single touch in return. He wasn’t even grinding against you, but just the sounds he was making clued you in that he was feeling good, too. 

It was cute how easily you affected him, but this didn’t occur to you in the moment.

You arched your back just enough to prop your ass up more, taking his fingers in an angle that was just a bit deeper. The movement must’ve flared a little insecurity in him because he stopped to ask, “Is this okay?” 

You barely managed a nod and slurred into the pillow, “M-Mhm. S’good, Toji.”

He hummed, pleased with your response, and lowered his face to your neck again.

After so long in your position, your hand began to cramp, but with you being so desperate for an orgasm, you needed something more.

“Can you talk to me?”

“Um, about what?”

“I-I don’t know.” You swallowed thickly, suddenly very self-aware of your predicament and really nervous about it. “Anything. Your voice. It sounds nice.”

You heard him groan behind you, felt his exhale brush over your shoulder, creating goosebumps in its path. And then, against your skin, he mumbled something that you couldn’t hear. 

“What?” Your fingers on your clit slowed.

He anxiously laughed, and then a little louder, repeated, “Can’t talk– I mean, I shouldn’t…”

Your brows furrowed, confusion sinking in. “What do you-”

“I just… I don’t know what I would say– sorry-”

You smiled into the pillow. “It’s okay. Can you kiss me instead?” And then to specify, “My neck. It’s sensitive. Feels nice.”

Toji followed through with your request, pressing his lips to the side of your throat, gently sucking and nipping his way to just below your ear. Your limbs softened, insides going gooey.

The second you really started sinking into the moment, your pussy tightening around his fingers, pressing your ass back into his hand for more, you felt his shuddering breath on your neck and then his teeth sinking in just a bit deeper than before. You tensed, whimpering out a soft sound, clenching your thighs together when it stirred up butterflies. 

Having obviously felt it, Toji snickered quietly and jokingly muttered over the bite, “Freak.” 

You couldn’t help it– his voice, his breath hitting the wet indents his teeth left behind– you moaned, clenching around his fingers once again. As if realizing just the effect his voice had on you, the playfulness in him receded with a whispering, “Oh.”

“Oh?” you shakily questioned.

“You just…” He pulled his fingers out just enough to thrust them back in, which was a different feeling entirely than the gentle internal petting he had been doing. 

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, taking it between your teeth when he did it again, and then again. The sound of your arousal wasn’t very subtle– Toji practically stopped breathing when he pressed them inside again, listening to the slick noise. 

He groaned and moved his hand quicker, just to hear how wet you were. 

You weren’t sure if he knew what he was doing, other than mapping you out and learning from the moment, but his innocent exploration of your body was getting you off. 

Quickly. Very quickly.

You arched into it, pressing your ass up to take his fingers, while you angled your face into the pillow. Maybe it was to hide or to stifle any sounds that would knock him out of the moment. 

Or maybe it was to save yourself from spontaneously combusting– because, holy shit, your best friend was fingering the fuck out of you and it felt otherworldly, but also, holy shit, this was Toji, your best friend.

“So fucking wet,” he breathed, “Feels so good, baby. You feel amazing.”

Your eyes widened, and you froze, because, again, this was your best friend. Your best friend, who now knows what your wet pussy feels like. Your best friend who thinks you feel amazing inside.

“T-Toji,” you stammered, using both hands to grab at the bedding.

He seemed to realize the situation for himself, too, and immediately pulled his hand away from you, apologies instantly falling from his lips. 

“S-Sorry, I didn’t-” During his rambling, you flipped onto your back to face him. The abrupt movement and close, face-to-face proximity had him reeling back, but before he got too far, you fisted the front of his shirt to drag him back. He winced away from you, as if you might hit him. “That was too far, I know-”

“Toji-”

“M’sorry. I won’t say those things again-”

To make him shut up, you kissed him. Hard. 

He gasped and hesitantly kissed you back for all of two seconds before you pulled away just enough to speak. Your tongue traced over your bottom lip, swiping up your combined saliva. He followed the action with his eyes, nearly panting.

“You didn’t have to stop.”

His lips parted to take in a breath, his brows furrowed in confusion, and he looked at you as though you were speaking a different language. “What?”

Rather than saying anything else, you gently guided his hand back down between your legs. You even pressed his two middle fingers to your entrance, just barely pushing the tips of them inside. Still, he didn’t move– even if your gesture was an obvious invitation.

“Toji,” you began, bucking up into his hand. “I want you to keep going.”

You couldn’t blame him for his hesitation– he was just as new at this as you were; he was just as scared to fuck up, too. But in this moment, the only thing that could ruin anything was if he pulled away and didn’t finish what he started. 

You leaned in, tracing your lips over his own, hoping he’d just kiss you. 

“Please, Toji.” 

The redness on his cheeks flared, but rather than succumbing to his nervousness, he endured it. Without the kiss, he pressed his fingers inside, watching your face with widened pupils as if searching for anything that would tell him to stop. But he could search for as long as he wanted; he’d never find anything on your face that said you didn’t want this.

“Yes,” you cooed, dragging your fingers through his hair. “Just like before– it was good. You were doing so well.”

It took only a few pumps of his fingers inside of you before the heat of the moment caught back up to both of you. With you practically panting against his mouth, he groaned and finally– finally– kissed you again. 

The angle of his fingers, with you now on your back, was so much better than before; the curl of them now inching so close to something new, something you’d never felt on yourself. And all it took was you spreading your legs just a bit more for him to find it.

All at once, you tensed up, gripping his hair tighter, moaning loudly into his mouth. 

“Again,” you keened, “do that again.”

He listened without hesitation, pressing right into that spot– pressing right into it every single time. 

You broke away from his mouth with a sharp gasp and propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his hand between your legs. The way his forearm flexed, the way his palm was glistening with your arousal, the way he was watching it happen with you– 

“Fuck, Toji. T-That feels so f-fucking good.”

“Does it, baby?”

And the way he said that– it wasn’t insecure, it wasn’t hesitant or apprehensive. It was sarcastic, borderline condescending, but in the best way possible. It was confident, smug, like he knew he was making you feel good, and fuck, he really was.

You dragged your hand down between your legs, rubbing your fingers over your clit, and that combination was so mind-numbingly good. 

The realization that you were going to come– that Toji was about to make you come on his fingers– was jarring, but at the same time, it’s like this was what you had been waiting for for so long.

“So tight,” he murmured, more so to himself than you, but you heard it. And then he asked, “Are you close?”

“M-Mhm. Please, please-”

“Please?” You felt his grin against your neck. “I should be saying that to you; show me, please.”

You were practically writhing, right there at the edge, and despite that, you brokenly giggled, “You wanna see me come?”

“God, yes.” You felt his hips shift toward you, wishing desperately to grind against your thigh, but unable to reach you. “Fuck, please show me. Please.”

Your head tilted back lazily, letting you take in more air for those gasps and cries and whines that you couldn’t help. 

When your breathing turned into short, quick pants, and your thighs started to twitch, hips bucking for more, eyes daring to roll back in your skull, finally, your orgasm washed over you, brutally good and unrelenting. You clamped down around his fingers, thighs closing shut on his hand and your own as you rode out the blissful feeling.

Somewhere in that moment, you pulled Toji in, eagerly slotting your mouth right over his, and he responded just the same, kissing you hard until the orgasm faded, leaving behind only the residual beads of dopamine and oxytocin that flooded your brain. Your legs parted, and you drew your hand back, using it to hold onto his shoulders to keep him anchored at your side. 

His lips slowed, but the heat never wavered; the tension was still there. When you broke for air, he moved the tentative kisses down your jaw to your neck, gently fingering you in slow strokes to coax you back down from the high.

You panted, squinting and blinking in the dim room, thinking nothing but holy shit, you just did that. And then you felt his hips shift beside you, a subtle and probably subconscious grind of his cock against the inside of his pants to ease the tightness. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, all while staring at the bulge in his pants.

“Mm,” he hummed over your pulse, soaking up his own dose of endorphins– the oxytocin he was definitely drowning in from just being this close to you. You wondered if he somehow felt high just like you, even without the orgasm. 

And speaking of his lack of orgasm.

You pulled him over you, which was surprisingly easy given how pliant he was. Thankfully, his bones were entirely made of jelly, so he still kept himself from crushing you. He pulled his fingers from between your legs, pressing that hand into the bed to hold himself up. While guiding his mouth back to your own, you trailed a hand down his torso to tug at his waistband.

Instantly, he tensed and grabbed your wrist, pulling it away. He parted from your lips to ask, “What are you doing?”

“You’re hard.”

You weren’t sure if he assumed you just hadn’t noticed, like he hadn’t been rutting it against you the whole time, but he flushed at your words. 

“Sorry.”

You grinned. “Don’t be sorry. Just… can I return the favor?”

His eyes widened. “Oh. You don’t have to-”

“Toji,” you huffed, a borderline scold, “I want to. If you’ll let me.”

After everything that just transpired, he still hesitated in his answer. “Okay. Yeah. If you want, just…”

While waiting for him to finish, you brought your hand back down to his waistband, but before slipping inside, you prompted, “Just, what?”

“Uh… just don’t expect me to last that long.” You held a straight face for as long as you could before you broke out into a series of giggles, earning his groan. “It’s not funny.”

“Hm.” You kissed him once, leaning back just enough to mumble, “It’s a little funny,” before kissing him again. 

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, slowly pushing them down, along with his boxers, until his cock sprang free. It dipped low with its weight, tapping your stomach. You pulled back from his mouth to look between your bodies at him, which he let you do for all of five seconds before he pressed you down, blocking your view of his cock.

“Don’t stare.”

“I just wanted to see really quickly.” Your lips twisted, holding back a grin. You reached down to wrap your hand around him. “You’re pretty big.”

His pupils dilated more as he sputtered for a response to that, but you didn’t give him the chance to form words before you stroked the entire length of him. And when he finally found something to say, it was a groaning, “God– yes,” as he leaned his face into the crook of your neck.

You bit back a smile. “Is this good?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good enough to make you come?”

He chuckled, then rasped, “Fuck, you could probably make me come by just breathing on it.”

You snorted. “That easy, huh?”

“You have no idea, baby.”

You knew you had to be doing something right because the precum dripping from his tip coated your hand; it was plenty to keep the friction to a minimum. 

He pressed a hand to your waist, just to slide over your skin, squeezing at the soft curve of your hip. It slipped underneath your shirt, trailing up the side of your ribs, stopping right at the swell of your breast before retreating. You only let him do it once more before slowing your hand on his cock and asking, “Do you want to see them?” 

“Hm?” He raised up from your neck. You pulled your shirt up to your chin, letting him get a look at your bare chest. “O-Oh.” His cock twitched in your hand, so you started stroking him again, just to hear another, softer, “o-oh…”

It was cute.

“You can–uh… touch them. If you want. Just be easy; they’re sore. You know, ‘cause of PMS and stuff–” The man gave you no time to process it; quicker than you could fathom a human being ever moving, he had moved down your body and taken one of your nipples into his mouth, making you gasp out in surprise. “O-Okay, yeah. That’s… good.”

You couldn’t reach his cock anymore, but apparently, you didn’t need to. With one hand between his own legs, he started jerking himself off while mouthing at your tits. 

Unsure of what to do with your hands, you propped yourself up on one elbow and carded your fingers through his hair, gently pulling on the strands to bring him closer. His eyes closed, and he exhaled a shaky moan, clearly getting off on the hair-playing. “Fuck,” he cursed when he pulled back, only to switch to the other. 

When he accidentally sucked just a bit too hard, you jerked beneath him, giving his hair a harsh pull, and scolding, “Easy.”

And Toji faltered, looking up at you, eyes laden with so much lust. He listened, slackening his tongue to soft, wet caresses, but still watching your face to make sure what he was doing was okay. 

To spare him the worry, you smiled, nodding and brushing your fingers through the hair that hung over his forehead. “Good, Toji. Much better.”

His eyes widened just a bit, cheeks flushing red, his movements slowing for only a moment before he abruptly pulled back. He looked down at himself, stroking his cock faster, breathing harder. The hand he was holding himself up with fisted the bedding so hard, you almost wondered if he could rip it that way. 

And then you felt it, hot ropes of cum hitting your bare stomach, pooling over your abdomen. He groaned, a guttural sound, something so sexy and primal that it had arousal flaring between your legs again. As his hand started to stop, you noticed the tension in his shoulders, which were barely moving as he breathed.

Before he could start to overthink– because you knew that was bound to happen with him– you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and forced him to look at you. 

There was the usual flush to his cheeks, and his eyes were still blown wide, but there was a new lax look to his features that you really liked. You thumbed at his swollen lip, feeling yourself smile as you asked, “You okay?”

His breathing stopped when his eyes flicked to your mouth. And then, he snapped out of it, clearing his throat. “Yeah. M’good.”

“You sure?”

He nodded and pressed forward, claiming your mouth once more. During the series of kisses, when both of you were still coming down, trying to get comfortable, you felt his hand slide through the cooling cum on your stomach, making him reel back.

“Shit. Sorry.” He was already pulling himself off the bed, tugging up his pants. “I’ll go get something-”

“Don’t bother,” you quipped, pulling your shirt off over your head. You messily wiped off your stomach before tossing it away. “Now, get back here. We’re supposed to be napping.”

He gaped at you, mouth wide open. Toji was quick to point out the obvious. “You’re naked.”

“Yes. But is it anything you haven’t already seen and/or jizzed on? No. So, get into bed.”

His nose crinkled. “Don’t say jizz.”

“Toji.”

He relented then. “Fine.”

author's note: First, I want to thank everyone who sent me messages and asks during my break-- you all are so sweet. There were quite a few, so I won't respond to each one, but just know I truly appreciated them <3!

Second, there was supposed to be a part two to this, but I don't know that I'll get around to writing it, nor do I think that anyone would want to read it anyway. It's canon compliant, so... we know how that ends. But if I cut it off right here, no one has to be sad, and it's a happy ending :)

And third, updating of any kind will be kinda slow for me right now as I work on other projects, so I really appreciate your patience. It means the world to me <3!! If you're interested in the other things I'm working on, they're on my ao3-- they are not x reader fics, but they are JJK, so please keep that in mind :)

He continued walking away from the building, passing by Sukuna without even looking at him, only to stand in front of a cowering older couple. The color drained from their faces when he raised his hand, silently telling them to wait while he finished up his conversation on the phone.

“Aw, don’t be like that. It’ll be fun. We can start looking for a new place for you tonight, and if you’re lucky, you’ll only be stuck with me for a few weeks-”

“Weeks?!” Sukuna heard the other person shout; it was loud enough that even the man pulled his cell phone away from his ear to save his hearing.

“Look, I know the Gojo name has a lot of leeway, but there’s only so much I can do. Getting you a nice place will take time, sweets. Just let me take care of everything. Don’t you trust me?” He paused, waiting for a response, and when that didn’t come, he scoffed, “I’m going to take your silence as a yes. Text me what you want for dinner, and I’ll bring it home.”

He ended the call quickly and pocketed his phone before giving his attention to the couple. 

Sukuna knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He was always a sucker for confrontation– watching it or participating in it, and focusing on this might be better than watching the firefighters rummage around in the rubble of your apartment.

“You’re the owners, right?” He motioned between them, not even giving them the chance to respond before he continued, “I’m the one who called your office multiple times, telling you over and over to fix the damn electrical issue before something happened. And now look, something, in fact, happened.”

“We can’t assume that it was the socket that caused this. For all we know, the fire started because someone forgot to turn off their stove,” argued the husband.

“Mm, that could be true. I suppose the only way to know for sure is to check the incident report.” From his jacket pocket, the man pulled out a piece of hard candy and began to unwrap it while purring, “Cross your fingers that you’re right, otherwise you two will be spending all of your insurance money to hire a nice lawyer.” He popped the candy in his mouth as he turned to leave, finally catching Sukuna’s stare before his eyes narrowed slightly. The man stopped in his tracks, raking his sight over Sukuna’s body before settling on his face to ask, “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

Sukuna allowed his eyes to do the same, taking in the expensive formal clothing and polished shoes that he couldn’t even begin to guess the price of. He shook his head, chuckling, “Definitely not.” While the white-haired man pursed his lips, not entirely convinced, Sukuna changed the subject. “It was definitely the electrical socket, by the way. Saw it sparking a couple of weeks ago, and with how dusty that place is...”

“Oh, I’m aware. They kept saying they had a maintenance guy look into it, but I know that old cheapskate did it himself to save a few bucks. And I know they’ve been reusing their filters in the ventilation system, so it’s really surprising that it didn’t happen sooner.” As the man spoke, he stepped closer to Sukuna, eating up the space between them until he was too close for comfort. His bright blue eyes were sharp, critical in a way, but not judgmental. “I think your tattoos are throwing me off, but I know I’ve seen you somewhere-”

“Seriously, I have no idea who you are. So, maybe back off,” he suggested, giving the man a light shove. He backed up from Sukuna, raising his hands in mock surrender. Before the man could offer up anything as a rebuttal, Sukuna turned on his heel and quickly retreated back toward his own place with his thoughts in complete disarray.

Should he tell your mother?

How long did he have before the Fushiguro kid relayed the information to Yuji that you may or may not be dead?

Wait. What if Fushiguro was in the fire, too, and was also dead?

Fuck. What if the place burned down the last time he took Yuji there-

Contemplating the what-ifs was pointless. Sukuna knew that better than most. Yet, he really couldn’t fucking help himself. 

By the time he made it back to his apartment, he managed to conjure up a mental image of all the terrible things that could have happened today, and it left him shaky-handed and feeling sick.

It was a normal human reaction when someone close to you died. But you weren’t close with Sukuna; he didn’t even like you. He’d definitely go as far as to say he hates you even more now, for making him feel guilty that you may or may not have died. It’s not his fault the place caught on fire.

But what if he could have tried to fix the electrical socket himself?

He slammed the door shut to his apartment, scoffing under his breath– Sukuna didn’t know the first thing about electrical work.

“Sukuna,” Yuji greeted him from the couch. He raised the remote and paused the movie that was playing on the TV. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah, well, I got sidetracked. And there’s lots of snow to walk through.”

“You could’ve taken your truck instead of walking…” the teen slyly replied, trailing off.

Sukuna’s jaw clenched. “And your ass could’ve just stayed in your room instead of bothering me.”

“Always so mean, ‘Kuna,” the teen tutted. “Anyway, watch this movie with me. It’s new.”

He looked at the screen and sighed, “It looks fucking stupid.” Still, he shed his coat and boots and sat down on the couch next to his brother. He side-eyed him a few times, gauging his mood, deciding that Yuji didn’t know about the fire yet. 

Should he tell him?

Or pretend that he doesn’t know-

“Oh, I forgot!” Yuji paused the movie again. “Fushiguro called. He said sensei’s apartment caught on fire.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. I bet it was that socket. Anyway, she’s living in his dad’s house until he can get her a new place. His dad is super rich, apparently. He even got a new house for him and Tsumiki, too.”

“Who’s Tsumiki?”

Yuji rolled his eyes. “Fushiguro’s sister. The girl he lives with. You’ve talked to her before.”

“I have?” Vaguely, Sukuna remembers something like that happening a few times, when he’d drop Yuji off at Megumi’s place. “Right, all is well then. Your teacher isn’t dead, and neither is your friend.” Sukuna can scratch both of those off his list of things to worry about.

“You’ll need to take me over there tomorrow morning.”

“What for?”

“Tutoring. I thought about it, and I think I should go. And you said it was a good idea, too, remember?”

Oh, he remembers. And he regrets it. 

Especially when Yuji sent him the address for this new place the next morning, and he saw how far away it was. 

“Yuji, it’s twenty minutes out of the city,” Sukuna scoffed, tossing his phone down on the counter to resume making his coffee.

“So?”

“So, we can’t walk there. And there’s no public transport that goes out that far.” None that Sukuna can afford, anyway.

“Then we take your truck-”

“The truck doesn’t run, dumbass. I’ve already told you that.” He let out a tired sigh, finding that it was way too early to be dealing with this, not when the stress of it brought a certain craving to burn in the back of his throat. Sukuna dragged his hand down his face, rubbing at his eyes before grabbing his phone quickly. “Just… give me a minute. I’ll see if someone can come pick us up.”

“Us?”

“Yes. Us,” he replied as he pulled up his own sponsor’s contact. When it began calling, he pressed it to his ear. “You didn’t think I’d just let you go into a stranger’s house without seeing myself around the place first, did you?”

“But sensei is there.”

An unwelcome, yet familiar warmth spread up his neck. “And what about it, brat? Do you want to go or not?”

“I do. I just think it’s stupid for you to get all protective when you know Sensei wouldn’t let me get hurt. But you do you, I guess. Just seems a little… weird that you wanna be involved now.”

A silence fell between them, broken up only by the buzz of Sukuna’s outgoing call. The brothers stared at one another, waiting for the other to crack first. After a few more beats, it was Sukuna who broke out of the staring competition, turning away to mutter, “Go get dressed before I change my mind.”

Yuji exhaled a laugh, but didn’t push his brother’s buttons further, instead hurrying down the hallway to his bedroom. As soon as the door shut, the line finally connected, after what felt like forever. Before they could even greet him, Sukuna started in with a playful reprimand.

“Took you long enough. What if I had been considering a drink?”

Uraume let out a tired groan. “I was sleeping. Forgive me for being human.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, not letting his guilt for interrupting their sleep get the better of him. It’s not like he did it very often anyway, and he really needed to call in a favor this time.

“Can you drive Yuji and me to his tutoring session? I would take the bus, but it’s out of the city.”

“Mm, no. But don’t mind taking Yuji to his tutoring session. You, sir, have to meet with Ms. Tsukumo this morning. In an hour, actually.”

A furrow formed between his brows as he pulled his phone away from his ear to check the date. Sure enough, it wasn’t Wednesday. “Why would I meet with Yuki? It’s Saturday.”

“Yes, and she’s on vacation next week for the holiday and can’t meet next Wednesday, so she rescheduled it for today. Which has been planned for many months, and you even told me to put it in my calendar so I could remind you about it because you knew that you would forget.”

“... well, at least I know myself,” he sighed, tugging at his hair. “Alright. You can drop him off, but can you make sure the place is okay? Check for flickering electrical sockets, extra dust bunnies, exposed wires, things like that.”

Uraume was quiet for a moment as they processed Sukuna’s request. He heard them briefly inhale before asking, “You didn’t like… actually drink, did you-?”

“No, I just– can you please do as I asked? I’ll explain later.”

“Okay, but maybe you should bring this up to Tsukumo. If you’re feeling paranoid again-”

“It’s not paranoia-”

“Sounds like paranoia to me, if you’re worrying about dust bunnies.”

Sukuna closed his eyes, heaving in a calming breath. “I know what you’re doing, and I really don’t have time for it now.” He downed half of his coffee in two gulps. “I’ll probably be in the shower when you get here, so text Yuji. He’ll be waiting.”

“If you want, I can drop you off at the diner, too-”

“No, thanks. I’d rather walk.” He finished off the rest of his drink before rinsing out the mug and turning it upside down to dry. “I have to go. Drive safe.”

“Will do.”

 The call promptly dropped, and Sukuna tossed his phone onto the counter. His hands moved toward the pack of cigarettes that he always kept nearby before he pulled his hand away, deciding that he didn’t have enough time for that, and would indulge on his walk to the diner. Yuki would complain about the smell, but she’d get over it.

He knocked on his brother’s door and waited for the teen to grant him entry before pushing it open. Inside, Yuji was multitasking, pulling on a wrinkled shirt while collecting things to shove into his backpack. Sukuna crinkled his nose at the sight before him.

“That shirt is dirty. And wrinkled.”

Yuji paused, looking down at himself. He pulled a bit of the fabric to his nose, giving it a sniff, and shrugged. “Smells okay.”

“No. Take it off. Give it to me.” He held his hand out, waiting for it, but only Yuji didn’t budge. “I’ll do laundry tonight, so find something else-”

“I don’t have anything else. The rest are too dirty, or they’re too small.”

It was then that Sukuna forgot his promise to his brother from a few weeks ago about letting the teen pick out some of his old clothes until Sukuna had enough money to get him something else.

“Go find something from my closet then.”

Yuji’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Not sure why you look so excited, but yes. We don’t have time to wash your clothes now.” He flexed his outstretched hand, prompting his brother to quickly remove his shirt before rushing into Sukuna’s room to search through his closet. Sukuna tossed the dirty shirt into the hamper before venturing to his own room, rolling his eyes at the way Yuji was ripping through his closet. “Uraume is going to take you to tutoring today. Be good for them. And your teacher, too.”

“I’m always good.”

Sukuna highly doubts that. 

“Mhm, right. Keep your phone on in case I need to call you. Uraume is going to text you when they get here, so be ready. They’re doing us a favor today, so be sure to thank them, too.”

“Okay. Can I wear this one?” 

Yuji held up a shirt to his body, glancing down at it to read the band’s name scrawled across the chest. Sukuna was familiar with the shirt and the image that was printed on the back, too. He’s sure that if you saw the pornographic decal on the back of one of your students, you would surely get upset about it, so Sukuna shook his head. 

“No. Find something else.”

Yuji frowned. “Why not–oh.” He disregarded his own question and quickly hung it back up when he caught sight of the image for himself. “Why do you even have that?”

Sukuna didn’t bother answering and instead continued, “Brush your hair before you leave, too. It’s a mess. And take your coat. I don’t care if you’re only outside long enough to get into Uraume’s car, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Oh, my god,” Yuji groaned at his brother’s nagging. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Make sure to gather up your dirty clothes and put them in the hamper before you go. If I have to search your room for them when I get back from work tonight, I’ll be pissed-”

“I got it, okay?” The corners of Sukuna’s mouth just barely ticked up into a grin. He stepped back, about to walk to the bathroom, when his brother stopped him again with a new shirt held to his body. “What about this one?”

He gave it a quick once-over before turning on his heel to leave. “Looks good to me, Yu.”

* * * 

“Good morning, Sukuna!” the overly eager barista greeted him the second he walked through the door of the cafe. “Weird seeing you here on a Saturday.”

“Mhm.” The girl was already working on getting him a black coffee when he stepped up to the counter, pulling out his wallet to pay for the order, and placing it down in front of the cash register.

“Are you meeting with Ms. Yuki today?”

“S’that any of your business?” 

Never put off by his cold disposition, she only giggled, working on snapping the coffee lid onto the cup. “I suppose it isn’t, but I’ve never seen you come in with anyone else. Oh, is this a special day? Are you here for a date-?”

“No,” he replied flatly, shoving his wallet back into his pants. Like before, the girl only found him amusing, giggling as she collected the money from the counter. Sukuna, desperate to escape the conversation, took the cup and began retreating toward his usual table, only for the girl to stop him. 

“Sukuna, I’m so sorry, but you’re a few bucks short.”

“What do you mean? I always pay that much.”

She blushed, nodding sheepishly. “Coffee is only half-priced on Wednesdays.”

“Oh.” Now he was the one to feel a bit sheepish. He put the cup down on the counter, pulling out his wallet to find some more money, only there wasn’t any. “Um– fuck…”

“That’s okay!” she said cheerfully. “I can cover it-”

“No. I… hang on.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, searching for a stray couple of bucks, but finding nothing.

When he dug around in his other pocket, she spoke up again. “Seriously, I’ve got it-”

“Just… give me a fuckin’ second.” Besides some dryer lint and a crumpled up recent, Sukuna found nothing. Slowly, he dragged his eyes back to the barista, who smiled at him, too sympathetic for his liking. “Can I start a tab?”

“Huh?” She frowned. “Um… you mean like they do at bars?”

However, before he could answer her, a lanky body shouldered him out of the way, squeezing in between him and the counter. 

“Starting a tab so early in the morning? I don’t think the shops start selling alcohol until eleven on Saturdays.” Yuki tutted at him, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder and nearly smacking him in the face with it.

He rolled his eyes at her little taunt. “It’s ten, actually. And that’s only on Sundays.” Sukuna began retreating toward their usual table, then, allowing Yuki to pay for their order. When she approached, handing off his drink to him, sliding into the other side of the booth, he promised, “I’ll pay you back next time.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Oh, but Sukuna would worry about it, and Yuki definitely knew that. But rather than assuring him that it was fine, she pulled out her notebook and pen, clicking the end of it. “Ready to get started?”

“I suppose,” he grumbled into his coffee.

“Great. Because Uraume called me on my way here.” Of course, they did. “And now I’m curious to know what you did to worry them. They’re like… the most stoic person I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t care what they told you; I’m not paranoid.” And the look on Yuki’s face told Sukuna that she didn’t believe him for even one second. “I’m not. Really.”

“So, why might they think that?” When Sukuna didn’t offer up any kind of answer that was more than just tapping his pointer finger on the table, she sighed, “I’m not trying to play therapist with you-”

“Are you sure?”

She kept speaking over him, “But I know this time of year is difficult, and there are a lot of little reminders all over the place. Kind of hard not to be when this place hasn’t changed at all, and it’s even more difficult when you haven’t changed much either. You’ve made progress, sure, but… you’ve sort of plateaued, if you get what I’m saying. But I’ve known you long enough to notice when you’re slipping.”

Sukuna scoffed, “I’m still sober. What more do you want from me?”

He already knew what her answer was. And she knew that he knew what her answer was, too, because this wasn’t the first time they had held a similar conversation. And really, she wasn’t trying to be his therapist, not even his PO in this moment, but his friend instead. 

He could appreciate that on some level, just not while he was so aware of how quickly his mood had been plummeting lately. If there was one thing he hated more than being told what to do, it was having to listen to someone say all the things he already knew to be true. His progress had plateaued, though he still had his head above the surface, barely treading water, but he was still breathing. 

He just wasn’t happy while doing it. And he wouldn’t be, not until the snow melted, but even then, warmer weather never guaranteed his good mood.

“I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want for yourself, but it’s not like I can pull it out of you either, so it’s really just up to you. Now, philosophical bullshit aside, what has your panties in a twist?”

The shortest, easiest answer to that question: you.

But Sukuna is sure Yuki won’t be satisfied with so little detail, so with that in mind, he sighed, “I started sponsoring someone-”

Yuki choked on her drink, spilling a bit of the black coffee down the sides of the cup as she coughed. Sukuna wasn’t really surprised with her reaction, though he was a little disappointed, which he made apparent as he handed her a few napkins to clean up her mess.

“You shouldn’t be sponsoring anyone,” she sputtered.

“Well, I am, but it’s not what you think. They aren’t even in the AA program. They’re in EDA-”

“And what do you know about eating disorders?”

“Next to nothing, but like I said, it’s not what you think.”

She leaned forward, eyes widened with probably the most emotion Sukuna has ever seen from the woman. “Really? Because what I think is that you’re taking on responsibilities that you don’t have the capacity to handle.”

“I can handle it. It’s not that much work. I’m not even really sponsoring her, it’s just for show.”

Hearing his answer, she leaned back, blinking slowly. “Explain.”

“Her mother is overbearing and is forcing a sponsor on her, but it’s obvious she just wants someone there to babysit her daughter. To keep tabs on her and shit. The woman doesn’t even need to be in the EDA program to begin with, but her mother had to have manipulated some judge to make it court-mandated.”

“Sukuna, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“I’m aware, but it’s true. It really is court-mandated EDA. The mother even told me.”

“And you just believe her? What if they’re both lying to you-”

“Trust me, they’re not. The woman would not be going to the damned meetings unless she was forced to. As I said, she doesn’t need to be there.”

“How do you know that? I think it’s pretty impossible to manipulate a judge.”

Sukuna gave it some thought– how does he really know that you don’t need to be there? Truthfully, he didn’t know for sure. It’s not like someone who needed EDA walked around with a flashing neon sign over their head that stated as much. But there was something about you that he found familiar, in the same sense that he felt it with himself.

“What she needs is to grieve, and it’s obvious her mother isn’t giving her the chance to do that.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question-”

“Then I don’t know,” he interjected sharply. “Maybe she does need to be there, maybe she doesn’t. Either way, it doesn’t change anything; I’m still her fake sponsor, and at the end of the day, I’m not taking on more than I can chew, so you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?”

Yuki exhaled a humorless laugh, “Not okay, actually. Just because you’re not really her sponsor doesn’t mean it’s not too much for you. Either you get yourself caught up in this family drama bullshit, or you’re forced to take responsibility for someone who really needs help, and if they fail, how do you think that’s going to make you feel?”

He shrugged, slumping back in the booth. “I won’t care. I’m not involved-”

“Yeah, right. Tell that to your weirdly selective savior complex.”

Sukuna brushed her off with a lazy wave of his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm.” Yuki eyed him for a moment, and he could feel how critical her stare was; it burned. But what hurt worse came only moments later, when she clicked her tongue, leaning forward to say, “Three years, Sukuna. Don’t throw all that away for someone you can’t even admit to caring about.”

* * * * * 

“And when plants soak up sunlight to convert that into energy, we call that…” you tearfully prompted the two boys for an answer, but rather than giving it, they only stared at you with way too much concern. You swallowed down the bile rising in the back of your throat and forced yourself to say, “Photosynthesis. Make sure to write that down.”

You could understand their looks; you were worrying them with your tears and poorly suppressed cries. But you were trying your best to keep your mind off the very recent events, and your students weren’t helping with that by staring at you like that. 

With a sniffle, you wiped your eyes with your soggy tissue and forced a laugh. “If you boys just keep looking at me like that, we’re never going to get through this study guide, and then you’ll fail the quiz.”

“Sensei,” Yuji began warily, “Megumi and I can study on our own, if you want to take a break.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I appreciate the offer, but-”

“But you keep crying, and that’s weird.” From his left, Megumi rammed his elbow into Yuji’s side, making the boy draw back with a hiss. While it seemed painful, it must’ve knocked some sense into him because he quickly blurted out, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way-”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay.” You cleared your throat and slid your chair back from the elaborate dining table. “Maybe I’ll just take a quick break. You two keep studying.”

As you stepped out of the dining room, you ventured toward the kitchen, which, thankfully, wasn’t that far away. You had already gotten lost in Gojo’s house once since you arrived yesterday, and you didn’t want that to happen again. There was seriously no sense in a single man having such a lavish home, especially when he so rarely stayed in it– or, well, you suppose it will be getting more use since he moved back.

While Gojo was too overbearing for most, you had to admit that you were at least a little grateful for his company after what happened– that being the fire at your apartment. Of course, you had Shoko and Utahime, who had already offered to help, but you didn’t want to put that strain on them. Along with not wanting them to carry a burden of yours, they also just didn’t know you as well as Gojo did. He was your first best friend, with you not meeting Shoko or Utahime until college.

As you’ve mentioned, he is overbearing, but in a different sense than Shoko or Utahime would be. For example, he would give you space if you asked for it, but the space in question would be perfectly decorated and stocked with anything you could possibly need, no matter how many times you told him it was too much. No takesies backsies, as he would say– and he did say last night when he showed you to your new bedroom.

“Can’t you just put me in a motel room?” you had asked him last night, to which he replied with a disgusted scoff, “Fuck no.”

You were starting to think he just wanted to have a sugar baby– platonically, of course.

As you pushed open the door to the kitchen, the quiet conversation taking place inside went quiet. Your eyes flicked between the two individuals– Yuji’s escort and Gojo– with a bit of surprise. 

“Uraume. I didn’t think you were still here.” A warmth crawled up your neck as you quickly wiped at your eyes. “Um, is everything okay?”

Upon their arrival, they had insisted on a tour of the place, per Sukuna’s request, to make sure no fire code was being broken. While it was odd how in-depth they were being and how devoted to Sukuna they seemed, you appreciated the concern they clearly had for Yuji, if they were going through the trouble of checking the place over. It also proved that Sukuna knew about the fire, so you wouldn't have to explain it all to him, since you were actively trying to avoid him. Getting drunk in front of him had left you feeling mortified, and you weren't sure when you would be able to face him again without feeling sick. 

“Everything seems okay to me. I only asked to see the kitchen again before I left,” they answered, earning a satisfied grin from your friend.

“They’re impressed with the appliances,” he gloated quietly to you.

“Yes. This fridge…” they trailed off in wonder, running their fingers over the light blue stainless steel, “is quite amazing. So big…”

“Thanks. I had it custom-made.” He shot you another grin, clearly enjoying the praise, before slinking off beside Uraume to peer inside his own fridge with them. “I can get you the company’s number-”

“Oh, don’t bother. I could never afford something like this. Nor would I know what to do with all the space.” They closed the door, watching the retention pull them closed slowly, until it silently sealed shut. “Wow, so quiet.”

“Want me to show you the custom-made knife organization system?”

“Organization system?”

“Well, I guess it’s more like a display case, but the knives are pretty cool.”

They gave a firm nod, clearly biting back their own excitement. “Please, show me.”

And just like that, Gojo swept Uraume away to gush over his luxuries. Meanwhile, all you could do was roll your eyes– he had always been such a show off. Although you had to admit his fridge was pretty cool, and he was so kind as to stock it with all of your favorite drinks and snacks, which you eagerly helped yourself to.

The two weren’t gone very long, returning just as you finished your snack and started cleaning up your mess of crumbs. They were still talking quietly with each other, but you noticed Uraume had just a twinge of extra excitement than they had before. 

“You seriously don’t mind?” they asked, following beside Gojo as they made their way out of the kitchen.

“Not at all. The kitchen needs to be used by someone, otherwise it’s just a waste of money.” 

You snorted to yourself, finding it a bit funny that Satoru Gojo cared about wasting money on stupid things. He walked them out, returning a few moments later to hoist himself onto the counter beside you.

“What was that about?” 

“I told them they could use my kitchen to test their recipes, so long as they’re sweet and they let me try them, too.”

You raised a brow. “They can’t do that in their own kitchen?”

“Well, they said their apartment kitchen is too small, and the restaurant they work at doesn’t allow them to experiment, so I figured, why not? I get food, praise, and to help someone out. I win, no matter what.”

“Must be nice.” 

The words slipped out before you could help them. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind and instead gave the top of your head a gentle pat.

“I found a few other places I think you’d-”

You cut him off with a deep groan, letting your face slump against his shoulder. “Don’t want a new place.”

“Well, you can always stay here and let me take care of you.”

You shook your head. “Can’t let you do that either. That’s not fair.”

His hand came up to the back of your head, cradling it in a comforting sort of way. “It’s fair. Trust me. I want to do this for you.”

 “But why?”

Gojo chuckled, “Why do you think? You’re my friend.”

“Sure, but… don’t you think this is a bit excessive?”

“Not to me. Now, come on. Let’s go watch TV or something.”

You pulled back. “I can’t. I’m tutoring-”

“No, you were tutoring. Megumi took Yuji up to his room to hang out like fifteen minutes ago. Besides, you need a distraction that doesn’t involve anything biological. I’m thinking a movie– a comedy, or maybe a thriller. And maybe while I choose something, you can call your mother.” You groaned at his suggestion, immediately put off by everything just from the mere mention of that woman. “I know. I had the same reaction when she called me. I tried to explain what happened, but she didn’t want to hear it from anyone other than you. She’s a little pissed you haven’t been returning her calls.”

And just like that, the added stress of having to speak to your mother brought more tears to your eyes.

“Yeah, well, my phone kinda burned up in the fire. Along with everything else, so maybe she should cut me some slack.” 

“Oh, that reminds me. We should start looking into replacements. For example, getting you a new phone. And when you get your new place, furniture, appliances-”

“Didn’t you just say I could stay here for as long as I want? What’s the rush?”

Gojo gave you a certain knowing look. “The offer is most definitely there, sweets, but how long are you going to use it before you start going stir crazy in here? I’m betting on two weeks. Maybe three-” 

“Gojo-”

“Stay here forever, I don’t care. But I’m just being realistic– I know you. Let me plan ahead, okay?”

You dragged a tired hand down your face. “Fine, fine.”

“Good. Now, I was thinking we could start by going through your storage unit. You still have a lot of furniture in there that you’d probably rather use than get new stuff, right?”

You suppose that he had a point, but…

“Ken’s stuff is in there. I’m still not ready to… look through it yet.”

“Well, we don’t have to do it today or even tomorrow. You don’t even have to do it at all. It was just a suggestion.”

You nodded and relaxed into his side. “Maybe you could check it out without me. Pick out the furniture you think would look nice in a new apartment.”

“You trust me to decorate your new place?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “You said it yourself: you know me, right?”

“I do.”

You sighed, “Then I trust you. But I don’t want to talk about a new apartment or furniture or any of that today. I’m tired.”

Thankfully, Gojo didn’t force you to call your mother that night, even after she blew his phone up trying to get in touch with you. He ordered dinner, let you rest, and didn’t bother you about apartments either. It was nice to be given the space to just… be upset. 

However, you should have known that his overbearing, over-caring tendencies wouldn’t lie dormant forever. 

The next morning, he gave you a new phone, along with all the cute accessories to go along with it. Just when you were about to decline the offer, like the adult-child he was, Gojo shoved back into your hands while saying, “no takesies backsies,” just as he had the day before. It was ridiculous– he was ridiculous, but you really just appreciated the kindness.

Luckily, you got to keep your previous number, and transferring all of your contacts was pretty easy. Now, with your new phone all set up, you stared at a blank message log with your sponsor, deciding whether or not you wanted to text him. 

You were still a bit embarrassed by how you acted the last time you’d seen him. Having Sukuna carry you back to your apartment was obviously never the goal of that outing. You probably left him feeling so uncomfortable, and that could be the reason he hasn’t tried to reach out to you, too. Or, on a more likely note, he just didn’t want to talk to you for his usual Sukuna reasons.

Either way, you owed him an apology for that day. And a thank you.

And when you sent him the message, you stared at the little bubble for a good five minutes before shutting off your phone and tossing it aside. 

You had better things to be doing than waiting for his response. Like taking advantage of Gojo’s washing machine and luxurious fabric softener. Or catching up on TV shows you had only binged halfway through. Or grading papers, because that task was never-ending. Or… literally anything other than waiting for him to respond-

Your phone lit up with a message just as you were about to abandon it on your nightstand.

Sukuna: You were a pain in the ass, but it’s whatever.

You scoffed, tapping your thumbs over the keyboard to type out a response, only he beat you to it.

Sukuna: Heard about your apartment. That sucks.

Was… was that a bit of care? Was Sukuna concerned?

You: Yeah. They think it was the electrical socket that caused it, so go on and say ‘I told you so’. I know you want to.

You waited. And waited. For longer than you should have waited for his response, but it didn’t come. He had left you on read.

And for some reason, that was more aggravating than having him gloat about being right.

master list || next chapter

author's note: I'm so sorry if that was super boring for you all. It's going to get better, I swear. This was supposed to be a part of the previous chapter, but it would've been too long. Also, sorry it's a bit late, too. I got sidetracked working on other things.

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Nanami took a seat in his usual chair across from his patient. He grabbed his notebook from the cushion and split it open, lips parting to begin the sessions, but before he could, Sukuna spoke first. “I didn’t know you were married. Didn’t even know you had a girlfriend.”

The therapist looked a bit surprised to have his patient questioning his personal life. “Oh. I apologize. I suppose I never mentioned her before.” He held up his left hand, proudly displaying the gold band around his ring finger. “We got married this past March. A small venue in Hokkaido. Then spent the weekend there for our honeymoon.”

Sukuna mulled over his answer. “A short honeymoon.”

Nanami nodded. “Well, we’re both a bit busy, so a short trip was all we could manage.” Another tight-lipped response. “Anyway-”

“What does she do?”

The man forced a smile, swallowing down the awkwardness that was accumulating. “She’s a student. Graduates this year-”

“You married a student?” Sukuna interrupted with an incredulous glower, bringing Nanami to let out a soft sigh.

“A college student, and yes-”

“Still. She’s a bit young for you, don’t you think? Aren’t you like… forty?”

Nanami breathed out an amused sound. “Not quite. Thirty-four, actually-”

“And, what? She’s mature for her age, or something?” The teen raised his brows in an accusatory way. “Why are you married to someone so-”

“Do you have an issue with age gap relationships, Sukuna? Or just with relationships in general?” With that prying question, Sukuna fell silent, leaving Nanami to continue with a huff. “Since you’re so interested, she’s twenty-three. She was eighteen when we met, and we started dating when she was nineteen. There was a project she was working on for her psychology class, and she sought out a proper reference for her paper. We kept in touch afterward, and here we are. Does that quell your curiosities? I’m happy to answer more-”

“That’s okay. I’m good,” Sukuna responded bitterly.

Nanami took in his patient’s body language and pursed his lips. He folded his notebook closed again, shoving it between the cushions as if to take on a more casual position. Sukuna knew he was in for invasive questions when Nanami did that, and it almost made him regret asking about you in the first place.

“You know, we never talk about your relationships-”

“Not really anything to talk about anyway. I’m single,” the teen bit out, feeling his face warm up, a twinge of uncomfortable embarrassment swirling in his gut.

Nanami, unaware of the distress he was causing Sukuna, continued, “You’re not interested in having a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Alright. Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes it’s just not on the radar for some people. Sometimes they just need to find the right person, or not at all…” 

The way his comment trailed had Sukuna scoffing, “Sounds like you’re pussy-footing around a question.”

Nanami chuckled, “As I do most of the time with you, yes. Directly asking you personal questions has never fared well for me, but if you’re comfortable answering them today-”

“Christ, it’s not like I’m a little kid. You can ask what you want to know, and I’ll decide whether I want to answer them or not.” The therapist still looked amused, which irked Sukuna far more than it should have. “Just ask your stupid questions.”

“Okay. Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Nanami thought about his question for a moment before adding, “Or boyfriend-”

“I’m straight. And, no. No girlfriend,” Sukuna stated flatly. “Girls have tried, but I’m just… I don’t want one.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“Just don’t want one,” he reiterated tersely. “Too much work.”

“If you’ve never had a girlfriend, how do you know they’re too much work?”

Sukuna slumped down in his seat with a groan, leaning his head back as he debated whether or not he wanted to get into this with Nanami. Realistically, he could tell the man to fuck off, and he’d listen. But Sukuna had to admit that he was curious to know Nanami’s professional opinion on the matter.

“There was this girl a couple of years ago, Yorozu, who was always following me around, sticking her nose into my business, demanding my time. She asked me out a couple of times, but I always turned her down. It was annoying. I mean, she was pretty, but I never felt… compelled to date her. I don’t feel that way about anyone. And there was this other girl… Takako, I think. She didn’t want to be my girlfriend, she just wanted a–um… something else-”

“A friends with benefits relationship?” More heat bloomed over Sukuna’s face, which must’ve been apparent to Nanami, because he smiled reassuringly. “You’re almost an adult, Sukuna. You don’t have to be embarrassed to talk about sex. It’s not a crime, it’s natural-” And Sukuna felt like he was melting at that point, yet Nanami continued, “And this is a safe space. I would never tell anyone-”

“I’m not–that isn’t-” Sukuna cut himself off with a muffled groan. “M’not interested in that stuff either.”

“Oh?” For a moment, Nanami’s poker face slipped before he gathered himself again. “That’s okay. Not everyone is wired that way-”

“That’s not– I meant that– fuck, it works, okay?” At Sukuna’s raised voice, Nanami cocked a brow, and the teen sighed, “I already know what you’re thinking.”

“Do you?”

Sukuna nodded. “You think that everything I went through made me asexual, o-or aromantic, and that’s not the case-”

“That’s not-”

He interrupted, unable to help the word vomit spew out, “Maybe I am aromantic. I just don’t feel the need to be in a committed relationship right now, but I feel sexual attraction. Girls are hot, I’m not fucking blind. It’s just that what Takako wanted isn’t what I wanted–and don’t ask what I wanted because I am not getting into that with you.”

As Sukuna ended his spiel, Nanami’s reassuring smile returned. “I wasn’t going to. None of this was really relevant to our session, Sukuna. I was just making conversation. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

For some reason, the teen felt a bit relieved to hear that. As the silence ticked on, Sukuna picked at the tread of his shoes before forcing himself to ask, “So, you don’t think that what happened to me is why I feel the way that I do?”

Nanami tilted his head slightly in contemplation. “It’s hard to say. Orientation– sexual or romantic– isn’t usually determined by a certain event. A lot of the time, that’s how people are born. And sometimes, feelings change without any rhyme or reason. It can be fluid. That’s not to say that your aversion to relationships wasn’t influenced by the events that happened. It’s likely that you feel withdrawn because of it, but in that case, it’s a symptom of something else. At the end of the day, it’s not a choice, so whether you’re aromantic or asexual, you shouldn’t feel bad-”

“I don’t. Just wanna make sure it’s not my past that’s making me feel shit.”

“Well, again, it’s hard to say. While it all seems to overlap, so to speak, we’re talking about two very different things. Withdrawing from people because you’re depressed isn’t aromanticism. But you can be aromantic and depressed at the same time. Just because you don’t feel a need for a relationship now doesn’t mean you’ll feel that way when you’re older, or maybe you’ll feel this way forever. It sounds like you haven’t figured it out for yourself yet, and that’s not something I can answer for you. But I can listen and give my input when needed.”

If Sukuna were being honest, he would have to admit that this was the most genuine conversation he’s ever had with his therapist. 

And it was this feeling that had him asking, “So, if I never end up wanting a romantic relationship ever, but a friend with benefits sort of deal instead, that doesn’t make me a… bad person?”

Nanami gave him a funny look, seemingly perplexed by the question. Truthfully, Sukuna was feeling the same way–why did he ask that? 

“Not in the slightest. So long as you’re both consenting adults, and you treat one another with respect, there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But, Sukuna, you’re smart enough to know that…” When Nanami made a grab for his notebook that was held between the cushions of his chair, Sukuna knew the session had really started, and probably with the topic Sukuna wanted to avoid the most. “Did someone make you feel bad about not wanting a romantic relationship?”

Yes. His mother. Sort of his father, too. And maybe his grandfather.

But the answer to that question had actually answered the question that started this conversation. 

He wasn’t aromantic, nor asexual.

He was just unwilling to accept another person so closely into his life, and risk losing them like he had the others. His past was making him withdraw from others. It was a mental game that he just figured out on his own. 

With the revelation in mind, he didn’t feel the need to answer Nanami’s question, and instead asked one of his own, one that signified that he was done talking about the topic, and that he had decided to shut down entirely.

“Can I have a piece of paper and a pencil? I feel like drawing.”

Nanami’s lips pressed flat, disappointment clear as day, but he stood to get the paper and pencil anyway, knowing there was nothing he could do to change Sukuna’s mind. The teen, now angled toward the window to look at the birds outside in the mulberry tree for reference, felt significantly better.

“What kind of music do you want to listen to today?” Nanami asked, stepping back toward his desk.

“Don’t care.”

“You can choose whatever you want. It’s your birthday, after all.”

Sukuna paused, thinking it over. Realistically, there was no way Nanami was going to play the heavy rock music Sukuna listened to, so rather than getting his hopes up, he shrugged.

“Just play that 80s bullshit you always listen to.”

From behind his desk, Nanami chuckled and worked on pulling up the music. “You know, I’m starting to think you like Phil Collins.”

Yeah, maybe Sukuna was.

* * * * *

8 Years Later

You sat outside the restaurant, anxiously tapping your foot while staring down at your message log with Sukuna. Through Megumi, you were able to snag Sukuna’s number after promising him a passing grade on his test if he didn’t snitch. Somehow, the boy convinced Yuji that he needed Sukuna’s number for a project that he couldn’t talk about yet, which seemed to be enough for Yuji not ask any further questions. 

So now, you waited for Sukuna to respond to your text, telling him the updated address for this meeting with your mother: a restaurant far fancier than you’re sure Sukuna was used to. It was very last-minute, so you were starting to get nervous and worry that Sukuna wouldn’t see the text-

“Could you have picked a more pretentious place?” a familiar voice questioned, telling you that, thankfully, luck seemed to be on your side. 

Well, sort of. 

Sukuna had arrived, but…

“What are you wearing?” you questioned, giving Sukuna’s tattered attire a critical once-over as he approached the entrance of the restaurant. He glanced down at himself before his eyes settled on you again, his irritation too obvious for your liking; hence the reason you snapped, “There are stains on your pants-”

He raised a hand to cut you off. “I just came from work. Spare me the bullshit, alright-”

“No, I won’t.” You didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, but you were slightly panicking. As if you weren’t nervous enough to begin with, and he decided to show up like this? Stained jeans, a tank top that was probably white years ago, weathered boots, and the same old duck canvas coat that now had a few stains from its brief time on the parking lot pavement just a few hours ago. “You knew our plans for today. Couldn’t you have at least tried a little bit? We’re at a fancy restaurant. You knew we were meeting with my mother-”

“Yes. Your mother. Not the Queen of England, so chill the fuck out.” He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, gesturing for you to enter first as he continued behind you, “I had to switch around my shifts at the dock and restaurant for this. You should be grateful I’m even doing this for you.”

You rolled your eyes, though he couldn’t see it as he followed you inside. “I don’t have to be grateful for anything half-assed-”

“I didn’t know you were going to switch up the restaurant. These clothes would have been fine for the other place. If I had known you were just going to bitch about it, I would’ve stayed at home-”

 “Actually, you couldn’t have. You got your payment already.”

“Mm, a dry handjob behind a dumpster.”

“Didn’t sound like you were complaining when you busted in my hand.”

You noticed a bit of redness creep up his neck as he snarled, “Fuck off. And you left a friction burn on my dick, by the way.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh, no. I hope your walk home with cummy boxers didn’t make that worse for you. Did you chafe?” Your wry, condescending tone had him scowling. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunted just in time for the hostess to ask their usual questions and lead you to a table in the back where your mother had booked the reservation. 

She hadn’t arrived yet–not shocking in the slightest–which meant you and Sukuna were faced with awkward silence. Though, for some reason, the awkwardness never seemed to eat away at him in the few times you two have interacted, unlike how it had you feeling as though you were drowning. 

Tense quietness ensued until you were nearly suffocating on it, all while Sukuna stared out the window with a bored expression. He wasn’t even contributing to the awkwardness; it was just you, which was all the more reason for you to take a little break, even if you had just gotten there. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Didn’t ask,” he shot back, not missing a beat.

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes and slid out of your chair. “When they come for drinks, order me a coffee.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

You swallowed down your irritated groan and made your way to the bathroom, making sure to take up as much time as possible to ensure being alone with Sukuna was at a minimum. 

While washing your hands, your eyes caught sight of yourself in the mirror, but more specifically, the tired, dull look in your eyes, and the frown that creased your mouth. If you didn’t stop scowling, you were going to get frown lines too early in life. But then again, smiling too much would have the same effect, wouldn’t it?

Maybe you needed a new skincare routine…

Or, maybe you shouldn’t worry about the small things. People age; it’s natural. Whether you slathered yourself in retinol every night or not wasn’t going to change the fact that one day, you’ll die-

You stopped that thought too quickly, snickering to yourself when you realized you’d rather stand in the bathroom, contemplating your own death, than sit in awkward silence with Sukuna– you really didn’t want to do it, deal with it, think about it. You wanted nothing more than to go home and just relax– after grading your papers, of course.

But first, you had to face Sukuna. And then you had to face your mother, which was worse.

You shut off the water and huffed, roughly grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser before drying off your hands and shoving open the bathroom door.

When you returned to the table, you were unpleasantly surprised to see your mother had finally arrived and was engaged with Sukuna in a heated conversation. Your stomach rolled at the sight, and the thought of just jumping ship to abandon this whole scheme seemed preferable. But, unfortunately, your mother caught your lingering gaze before you could make your hasty escape.

“This is who you hired to be your sponsor?” Your eyes widened at her tone–she was loud, though she wasn’t angry. Half the restaurant in your seating area turned to give you dirty looks. Before she could spout off more comments in her booming voice, you quickly rushed over. All too calmly, as if she were amused with your choice, she added, “He said he’s a convict.”

Your eyes, which were already wide open to begin with, widened even more, but this time in Sukuna’s direction. “Why would you tell her that?”

“She sat down and immediately started asking me about myself,” he stated, too nonchalant for your liking.

“And you start with that?”

“No. I started with where I work, and she asked about college. Told her I didn’t go-”

“And when I asked how he obtained these odd jobs, he said his probation officer secured them for him,” your mother finished, leaving you both to stare at the man in question, you glaring while your mother dryly smiled. 

“What? It was the truth.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling a breath before leveling with your mother. “Look, Sukuna is a great sponsor, felonies or not, alright? He knows the program like the back of his hand-”

“Are you sure?”

No, you weren’t, and her questioning you like that was making you feel diffident. But still, you lied, “Yes, I’m sure.”

She chuckled, “Pardon me, but I find it hard to believe that this man knows the EDA program-”

Just then, the waitress approached, greeting your mother as she set a mug of coffee in front of you, followed by a little plate with sugar cubes and a small pitcher of cream. 

And for Sukuna, a glass of water with a lemon wedge. He grimaced and plucked it out, discarding it on a napkin before daring to take a sip from the glass, and still, the little scowl remained– clearly, he did not like lemon water, which you thought was fitting for him. 

Beside you, he caught your stare, but only briefly before looking off again. 

While your mother ordered, you fixed up your coffee– six cubes of sugar and a dash of cream. You weren’t really paying attention, choosing instead to focus on the coffee since it could do no wrong in this situation. That is, until you heard your mother ask, “Do either of you have a preference?”

That question pulled both of you away from your drinks. 

“Preference for what?” you asked, eyeing the menu in her hands. The alcohol menu.

She motioned toward the booklet in front of her. “The wine, obviously. White or red-?”

“No, thanks, Mom,” you rushed out, feeling a warmth settle on the back of your neck. “It’s only noon. Do you really need to be drinking?”

She blinked at you, emotionless as always. “It’s just wine. And since when are you such a prude?” Scoffing, she turned to Sukuna. “What’s your preference then-”

“Mom,” you scolded, though it wasn’t heard.

“You want a convict’s opinion on which wine you should get?” Sukuna retorted with a chuckle. 

Your mother shrugged. “Everyone likes wine. Even convicts.”

“No doubt,” he mused under his breath.

“Doesn’t seem like they have pruno on here, though…” 

At that, whatever that meant, Sukuna laughed. It caught you off guard, making your breath hitch in your throat. You didn’t think the man was capable of such a genuine sound. And even your mother was snickering to herself at her own joke, which you definitely didn’t understand. 

She continued absent-mindedly, “Maybe a Moscato. Everyone likes that.”

“You should choose whatever you want,” Sukuna replied, “I don’t drink.”

“No?” Sukuna shook his head in response, which she hummed over, and ordered a glass of Moscato for herself. “Why not? You seem like the type to indulge.” 

“I used to. Just not anymore.”

Your mother mulled over his answer. “I see.” As if his words gave her some sort of insight into who he was, she dared to ask, “So, how long have you been sober?”

It was instinctive, really, the way you slammed your foot into her shin. She jolted forward, sending a glare your way. “You can’t just ask that. That’s rude-”

“Christ, I’m just making conversation. That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it-”

“And you can do that without prying into someone’s personal life-” 

During your bickering, Sukuna placed a silver coin on the table, ‘To Thine Own Self Be True, One Day At A Time’ engraved in the metal, and in the middle displayed the number of years–3, to be exact.

“Interesting.” Your mother picked it up, whistling lowly as if she were impressed. Honestly, you had never seen her react this way to anything before, so you were a bit confused. “I don’t know how you do it. Stop drinking, I mean. I know I couldn’t.”

“Not really a choice,” Sukuna muttered, accepting the chip back in his hand to pocket. “It’s this or prison.”

“Ah, but at least there’s pruno in prison.”

The corners of his mouth lifted up into a small grin. “I’m doubting you’ve ever tried prison wine. If you had, you’d know it’s not worth it.”

“Must not be a desperate drunk then, are you?”

Your eyes widened, and once again, you kicked her under the table. However, Sukuna didn’t seem too put off by her question. “Oh, my god. Can you act normal?” you hissed under your breath. “You’re being inappropriate. And invasive.”

“It’s not like I’m making him answer-”

“But he probably feels like he has to. You’re treating this like an interrogation.”

“Then the convict should feel right at home.”

Somehow, your eyes widened even more when those words passed her lips. You tensed up as Sukuna sucked in a surprised breath, him muttering, “Wow.” Rather than sounding pissed, he seemed amused once again– what the fuck was going on? “There’s no beating around the bush with you, is there?”

She grinned, a certain blush taking over her cheeks. “Not at all. I get right to it. Makes everyone feel like they need to walk on eggshells around me.”

Sukuna, much to your dismay, seemed to enjoy her answer and played into her antics with a coy, “And you like that, don’t you?”

“So much,” she purred in a tone that had your stomach churning with disgust. “I can tell you’re different, though. I’m not scaring you.”

“I’m not easily scared,” he simpered.

“Mm, I like that, too.”

Unable to stand it, you interjected, “Are you even sober right now?”

Her face flattened into a look of annoyance as she drew her eyes back to you and scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only noon.” She motioned toward the waiter, who appeared with her glass of Moscato and gently placed it down in front of her. “And this is my first sip of wine today.” 

“Then can you act couth?”

“I’m couth-”

“No. You look like you’re about to jump across the table and mount him.”

“And so what?” she retorted sharply, taking her glass of wine into her cold, thin fingers. “He’s young, but he’s legal, right?”

“Twenty-six,” Sukuna chimed in, watching the interaction with the utmost interest. “I’m definitely legal-”

“You’re not helping,” you snapped, turning back to your mother. “What happened to you being disgusted with his criminal record?”

“Who said I was disgusted?” She shrugged, sipping from the glass before continuing, “He’s attractive, so the record is something I can overlook. Besides, I could guess what he went away for-”

“No, no. We’re not going to do that. Contain yourself, okay? We’re here to talk about the sponsorship, so go on. I want to get this over with.” 

You reached across the table and grabbed the glass from her hands. She didn’t complain, only watched with a humored smirk as you chugged it down, desperately needing it if you intended on getting through the rest of the meal with your sanity. You set the empty glass back down, swallowing the last mouthful of alcohol before allowing the rest of the hellish interaction to commence.

The flirting didn’t stop, but worsened as your mother ordered a few more glasses of wine, passing some off to you, too. You knew better than to drink, especially with Sukuna sitting right next to you, but he didn’t even bat an eye at the amount of wine being shared between you and your mother. And really, you needed it. Your mother was insufferable as always, and having to stomach her while sober was always a feat.

They didn’t even talk about the sponsorship; instead, choosing to discuss various topics that always seemed to cater toward Sukuna’s life, with a few of your mother’s life stories scattered in between. You had been forgotten in the conversation, which wasn’t surprising in the slightest when it came to your mother. She only tolerated you when she had to, and for some reason, she felt it was necessary to attempt to tolerate you regarding your eating habits, of all things.

You knew she didn’t care about you; she only cared about herself. That much was evident as she continuously brushed you off to ask Sukuna question after question.

They ranged from meaningless questions like, “Have you ever been to Hokkaido? I went once. It was nice. I should take you next time…” to personal ones like, “Do you have a girlfriend..?” and even inappropriate ones like, “What’s your type..?” 

“Why do you even need to know that?” you interrupted upon hearing the last one.

“Curiosity.” When she spoke, she never took her eyes off the man beside you. 

And through it all, he never flinched, responding to all of them without hesitating.

“I don’t have a type.”

Your mother looked a bit disappointed to hear that. “Not even a specific age range you favor?”

You scoffed, “Seriously, what kind of-”

In true Sukuna fashion, he cut you off to snicker, “Do you want me to say I favor women your age?”

“Maybe, I do.” She hid her grin behind the wine glass. “So…?”

“So, you’re too persistent. And too tipsy, if you think I’m going to talk about that with you.”

“Is it the mixed company?” She gestured toward you.

Briefly, Sukuna caught your eyes before settling them back on your mother. Flatly, he answered, “Sure.”

You were buzzed halfway through the meal, and by the end, you were slurring your words– not that it really mattered; they weren’t giving you very many chances to talk.

And then, out of the blue, she flipped the script entirely, nearly knocking you back on your ass.

“Honestly, Sukuna, I’m surprised she even wanted you to be her sponsor. Ever since Kenny passed away-”

“Hey–woah,” you interrupted quickly, “Don’t call him that. He doesn’t like it.”

“You mean, he didn’t like it.”

You frowned– weren’t you saying the same thing? 

“Huh?”

“You said he doesn’t like it, meaning he’s still alive to give a shit.” Her emotionless tone just dug that knife– the one that was always looming right over your heart since your husband died– deeper into your chest. But what never failed to add salt to that wound was how careless she spoke about him. “He’s dead. He’s been dead. I can call him Kenny if I want, and no one can get upset about it.”

That constant sickness in your gut only worsened when the tears prickled the back of your eyes.

“Well, that’s not true,” you bit out, slightly choking on your rising emotions. “I can still get upset about it-”

“Anyway, as I was saying, Sukuna,” she began again, talking over you. “Ever since Kenny passed-”

“Mom, please-”

“She’s been distant from men. Well, except for Satoru, but he doesn’t really count. They’ve been friends since they were in diapers, so if they were going to get together in that way, it would have happened by now, you know? Not that I expect her to hook up with you– she has a type, just like I know you have. She likes them older, too. Kenny was-”

“God, can you stop-”

“Was an older gentleman. Died too soon. Pancreatic cancer–it was hereditary-” The most your drunk mind could do was let you sit there, mouth slightly parted in shock as the word vomit continued to spill past her lips. “It was slow. We all had to watch it happen. Kinda sad. And not to sound rude, but he made the holidays a bit depressing, so it was almost a relief when he finally passed. I know she feels the same-”

“I do not.” Finally, she shut her mouth, but only long enough to watch a singular tear slip down your cheek. “How could you say that?”

“Because it’s true. He was suffering, and you know it. It was exhausting for you to take care of him, and that’s why when he let go, you took it so hard. You finally had the chance to process it, and it happened so fast and all at once.” The way she was able to speak about it so nonchalantly was horrifying. As if to reason with you, she placed her hand over yours. “Look, I’m not doubting that you loved the man. It’s okay to say you were relieved-”

“I wasn’t relieved,” you hissed, yanking your hand away from her. “I was fucking devastated.”

She sighed and retracted her hand, too, bringing it to her plate to grab her fork again. “Well, two things can be true at the same time. That’s why you’re in therapy. The courts suggested it. Did you know that, Sukuna? She grieved so hard that a judge had to tell her to seek help– I suppose you know how that is, don’t you? Actually, I’m curious. What made you turn to drinking? And is that what landed you in jail? I bet it is.”

For the first time since she started ranting about your past, Sukuna spoke, quietly asking, “How in the hell is that any of your business?”

Your mother glanced up from her plate of food, taken aback by the question. “We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, aren’t we? I thought we were bonding over trauma. You two seem to have a lot of it.”

“You must’ve been mistaken. I’m not here to bond with you over anything, and I’m definitely not here to listen to you trauma-dump all of your shitty mothering on me either. Why I decided to drink is none of your fucking business, and if you’re so curious about my record, you can walk your happy ass down to the courthouse to check.”

“Alright. Good. You do have a backbone.” 

She nodded to herself, agreeing with some mental conversation, while shoving a forkful of food into her mouth. She placed the silverware down to rummage through her purse. Pulling out her phone, she tapped the screen a few times before turning the device around to shove it into Sukuna’s hands. You both glanced down at it, seeing she had pulled up a blank contact.

“What’s this for?” he questioned, growing irritated with her. 

“Put your contact information in there. If you’re going to be her sponsor, I’ll need to be able to reach you to discuss her progress-

Sukuna scoffed and slid her phone across the table to her. “Fuck that. I’m not her fucking babysitter. If you want to discuss her progress, ask her yourself. She’s an adult-”

“But she’s still my child, so if you’re going to be her sponsor, I’ll need to be able to contact you.” 

With a growing scowl, Sukuna begrudgingly took the phone back to type in his information. “Use it sparingly. I don’t get that many minutes a month,” he grumbled.

* * * 

“Your mother is a bitch.”

“Yep,” you sniffled, wiping at your face while accidentally stumbling into Sukuna’s side as he walked you out of the restaurant. When you raised your keys to unlock your car, Sukuna quickly grabbed them and shoved them into his own pocket. “Hey! What the hell?”

“Are you fucking dumb? You’re drunk.”

“I wasn’t going to drive, asshole. I was going to sit there to sober up.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Fine. Then you can drive me home.”

“And that’s not happening either. We are going to walk.”

You cocked a brow. “Oh, are we?”

“Yes, we are. You can’t even stand up straight, and you think I trust you to get home by yourself? You’d probably walk out in the middle of the street. Or fall and bust your head open. Or get kidnapped.” 

You rolled your eyes but followed him to the sidewalk. When he roughly manhandled you to take the side furthest from the road, you fought against him, tutting, “Didn’t take you for such a gentleman.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t take you for such a lush.”

“Wow! That’s fucking funny coming from you,” you gasped, shoving at him to create distance, only the shove knocked you off balance, and you fell backward. To save yourself a bruised tailbone, you latched onto the first thing you could, which just so happened to be his coat. You threw his balance with your grasp, but rather than letting you drag both of you to the ground, he managed to pivot the position, forcing you up against the brick wall instead. 

He watched the little puffs of your breath crystallize in the cold air, then at your lips when you spoke again. “You’re the drunk here, Sukuna. Not me.”

You hadn’t let go of his coat. In fact, you were dragging him closer, something you definitely hadn’t realized yet, but Sukuna had. 

He was so close to your mouth, where the scent of the wine still lingered– he was so sure your tongue still tasted like Moscato that he was seconds away from betting his AA chip on it. 

But the prize for winning the bet was the same as losing– he’d be relapsing. Maybe not literally, but he was certain it counted somewhere, and there is no way he was fucking relapsing in any sense of the word because of you. 

Through gritted teeth, he snapped, “Well, this drunk is sober right now, and you’re not. So, let me take you home before you get charged with public intoxication.”

“That sounds sexual.”

“Trust me, there’s nothing sexual about that charge.”

“Not that part, stupid. I meant taking me home.”

Sukuna went still, blinking down at you before grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away. Tiredly, he asked, “What the fuck are you even going on about? I’m taking you home to make sure you don’t die. That’s it. Now, let’s go.” He harshly pulled you off the wall and led you down the sidewalk, taking his place by the road just in case you decided to trip over your own feet, which ended up happening a few times, until Sukuna stopped you. “Are you seriously that out of it that you can’t walk straight?”

Your smile was sloppy as you slurred, “I’m a lightweight.”

“Yeah. I can fucking tell.” His eyes honed in on your lips, glazed over with something he wanted to taste so fucking badly. “Goddamn… idiot,” he cursed under his breath a few more times before turning around. “Get on my back.”

“Oh, wow,” you gasped, “My noble steed-”

“I’ll fucking kill you. Get on my back.”

You giggled but did as he ordered you to, pressing your thighs into his waist while wrapping your arms around his neck. You were useless after that, leaving him to do the rest while you rested your cheek against his shoulder.

“You know, you’re kinda nice-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m being serious,” you snickered. “You act like a total asshole sometimes, but then you carry me home when I’m too drunk to walk. And you hold doors open for me, and you don’t let me walk too close to the road. And you give me your coat to kneel on so I can suck your dick.” Lazily, you leaned your cheek into the crook of his neck to get closer. Unbeknownst to you, your lips were brushing right over Sukuna’s pulse, but Sukuna noticed; even biting back the hitch in his breath when you mumbled, “And you’re so nice that you agree to be my sponsor, even if we are strangers.”

He swallowed thickly and tried his best to lean away from your touch, which was difficult with you wrapped around him. “We’re not so much strangers anymore. Your mom kinda spilled your whole life story, remember?”

You snorted. “Yeah. She did. Such a bitch.”

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement. 

He didn’t like you, but having to watch your own mother drag you down like that, ignoring any sort of boundary you’d created, made even his skin crawl. No one deserved to be embarrassed like that.

“What about your mom?”

Sukuna worked hard to not draw attention to how that question had him faltering in place. “What about her?”

“Is she a bitch, too?”

“Why do you care?”

You groaned, “Come on. Tell me stories. Unless you have a dead spouse that we can bond over instead.”

“Fuck– what is it with you women wanting to bond with me? Maybe I’m not fucking interested.”

“Okay, but I’m super drunk. What are the chances I remember any of this stuff anyway?”

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”

“Oh, my god! Please! Please-!”

“Fuck, fine. Yes, my mother…” he relented, but only to get you to shut your mouth. You had no volume control when you were intoxicated, and your mouth was right by his ear–lips so close to grazing it, but… he shouldn’t think about that. Not when your legs were wrapped around his waist, ankles brushing his jeans with every few steps, and most importantly, not when he was talking about his dead mother. “She was– is a bitch, too. Sometimes.”

“Yeah? What’d she do?”

“None of your business-”

“Please! Please, please, please!” 

It was here that things got iffy with Sukuna’s integrity. He had become well accustomed to being nagged. Be it through his jobs or his little brother, Sukuna could deal with annoying little brats. Granted, he was never good at it, but he managed. 

However, the difference comes in when your ‘please, please, please’ started sounding a little too breathless and was brushing up the back of his neck, paired with the way you were slurring his name– he caved, because as it’s been mentioned before, having a boner while talking about his dead mother is something he would need to unpack in therapy, and unfortunately, his therapist has been ghosting him for a few years.

“Please, Kuna. Please-”

“Holy fuck, you’re annoying,” he exhaled a shaky breath, hoping to feign irritation. “She uh… she left me. When I was eleven.”

“Oh? Where’d she go?”

He scoffed, “Hell, probably.”

His dry, flat tone had you quietly giggling. “So, she left you, and now she’s off doing all the things she’s wanted to do, even though she could have taken you with her. Fucking sucks, huh? My dad did the same thing to me, only he left me with the actual spawn of satan.” You hummed out another laugh. “Sometimes I like to imagine what he does– like… realistically. It’s hard; there’s not much I remember about him because he left when I was so young. Usually, I just picture him having another family that he actually loves. Makes me bitter sometimes.”

“Yeah, I bet it does,” he tutted at you, bringing you to grin.

“Alright, so what do you think your mom is doing? Raising her second family?”

She’s definitely not raising a second family. Not when the first one took the will to live out of her completely. 

Unlike you, Sukuna knows exactly what his mother would be doing if she were alive, because it’s the same thing she always did. 

Day in, day out, week after week, month after month, year after year, until she finally broke.

* * * 

Twenty Years Ago

Sukuna’s eyes were scratchy. Irritated. Red and puffy. Wet, too. Filled with salty tears that slipped down his cheeks and soaked into the sleeve of his mother’s shoulder as she lulled the six-year-old boy to sleep in her rocking chair. 

It was working. His eyelids were growing heavier and heavier. And with no other noise interrupting him, save for the gentle afternoon breeze that lofted in from the open window, he was on the cusp of passing out. It wasn’t until he heard his mother’s voice that he pried his eyes open wide again.

“You know why you were spanked, don’t you?” Kaori quietly asked, nearly whispering while rubbing her hand up and down her son’s back in a delicate motion.

Equally as quiet, Sukuna replied, “Because I yelled at you. I said mean things.”

“And?”

Sukuna’s eyes flicked to the open window, seeing that the tree just outside wasn’t so empty anymore– the birds had returned. That sight in itself made him feel so relieved. “And because I scared away the birds.”

“That’s right. Mommy likes to watch them, so we have to be quiet here. We don’t want to startle them, do we?”

“No.” He watched the blue birds flit through the small branches, playing around with one another, before he sighed. Sukuna relaxed against his mother completely, and in the quietest whisper, he mumbled, “I like watching the birds, too.”

“That’s good to hear.” She dragged a hand through his pinkish hair, softly scratching at his scalp as the two of them watched the birds in the tree.

“They’re pretty.”

“They are,” she answered timidly, humming happily under her breath.

The moment continued on like that, luring the boy closer and closer to sleep. Just before it could overcome him, he whispered, “I love you.” 

The rocking chair stilled, his mother froze, and the air took on a colder feel. It startled the boy just enough that he flinched.

When the rub of her hands up and down his spine resumed, it was with a harder touch. He let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding when the rocking chair started moving again.

“And you love me as I love you?” he questioned, “Don’t you, Mom?”

A few seconds of silence ate up the room, replacing it with a tension that no six-year-old boy should know. Yet, he waited for it with an eagerness he shouldn’t feel.

“I love you, Sukuna,” she muttered, “but only sometimes.”

That almost felt like it was enough, and to Sukuna at that time, maybe it was.

“Is it one of those times right now?”

Kaori giggled quietly. “Of course, it is, silly. I let you inside my room, didn’t I?”

* * * 

His mother was sick. Sukuna knows that now.

But it never dulled the sting those memories left behind.

“Uh, hello? Are you gonna answer-”

He let out a huff and responded with, “Bird watching. She… liked– likes birds.”

“Mm, like Kento,” you mumbled, nestling into his neck. “Is she the one who taught you about birds?”

With his mind still reeling a bit, working overtime to suppress the ache in his chest, he didn’t process your question fast enough. “Huh?”

“Your mom. Did she teach you about birds? About bluebirds and birds that are blue, but aren’t bluebirds. Remember? We talked-”

“I remember,” he huffed, “And no, she didn’t. It was someone else.”

You murmured softly, “You know, I still don’t know what kind of bird is in that painting at my apartment.”

“Have you even looked into it? It’s a common one.”

“No. Wish you’d just tell me.”

“Where’s the challenge in that? Don’t you want to figure it out on your own?”

“Not really. Bird watching is boring.”

“You don’t even have to watch them,” he muttered, reaffirming his hold on your legs when you started to slip.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said. You don’t have to watch them. Your husband was into the hobby, wasn’t he? Look through one of his books.”

“Mm, I could do that. If I cared enough.”

He exhaled, “Whatever,” and dropped the subject entirely. 

* * * 

A couple of weeks passed since that interaction, and Sukuna hadn’t heard from you again, nor had he seen you on Wednesday evenings when he’d show up to his meeting just a bit early. He also hadn’t heard about you from Yuji. 

And trust that he wasn’t concerned about that in the slightest. If anything, it was a nice break. Really, he wasn’t bothered whatsoever. Not even the tiniest bit curious to know what was eating up your time. He seriously didn’t even want to hear about you. Like at all-

“How’s your science class going?” Sukuna asked when he heard his brother’s feet start down the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder at him before returning his attention to the vegetables he was cutting up for dinner.

Yuji halted in the hallway upon his brother’s question. With a confused expression, the teen turned around to answer, “Uh, it’s fine?” His eyes trailed to the side as he pondered his thoughts. “Well, I did fail the last quiz, but Sensei is letting me retake it.”

“Mm,” Sukuna hummed, pretending to be more interested in the carrot he was dicing than he was in his own question, but he wasn’t sure if he was doing that to convince himself or Yuji. “What was the test over?”

Still perplexed, he cautiously said, “Cells.”

Sukuna snorted, “You failed a quiz about cells? The most basic biological concept-”

“Yeah, and what about it? It’s not like you know all about them anyway.”

He snickered, “I definitely know more than you.”

“You just think you’re so smart because you went to college, don’t you?”

With the reminder of that particular white lie he’d told his brother, Sukuna’s stomach twisted up. Sukuna didn’t go to college; he went to prison, but there was something about having to tell Yuji that the person he looked up to is actually a felon that Sukuna didn’t feel like doing. 

So, yes, Sukuna lied. And, no, he didn’t feel good about this one.

He internally shook off the guilt. “I was smart before I went to college, brat.”

“Well, Sensei says I’m really smart. One of the smartest in the class.”

“Yet you failed the quiz anyway.” Over his shoulder, his eyes flicked to his brother. “So, maybe your sensei is a liar. Or maybe she just didn’t want to hurt your feelings by calling you stupid.”

Yuji’s cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a breath, his face turning red with his rising anger. “Sensei is not a liar, and I’m not stupid. Screw you.”

It was easy to see that the teen’s temper was starting to get the better of him, and a meltdown was sure to ensue if Sukuna kept pestering him. So, rather than caving into the brotherly instincts that told him to instigate a fight, he leaned into his role as Yuji’s caretaker instead.

“You know I’m kidding. You’re not stupid, Yuji.” The redness in the teen’s face mellowed out. Sukuna returned to the task at hand before continuing, “But you do need to start paying attention in that class. If you fail science now, you’ll just have to make it up next year. The same goes for the rest of your classes, too.” 

He made sure to tack that last part on just so the teen wouldn’t suspect anything– though, he probably wouldn’t. Yuji had his head in the clouds most of the time, and Sukuna wasn’t going to do anything to change that. If Yuji were ignorant of the travesty that is their life, he wouldn’t have to contemplate why their parents are both dead, why their grandfather is dying, and why the only person in the world who can take care of him is Sukuna, which he will admit, he’s shit at. He’s hoping Yuji won’t notice any time soon.

“Yeah,” the teen began, “maybe I should start going to tutoring. It’s helping Fushiguro big time.”

Sukuna ignored the way his stomach twisted in anticipation of dropping Yuji off at your apartment again. “There’s an idea.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Sure.”

As Yuji retreated down the hallway, Sukuna’s phone buzzed in his pocket. With a huff, he pulled it out to scan through the notifications, finding the one at the top was from a number he hadn’t saved.

Unknown Number: Your sponsee isn’t answering my phone calls. 

Well, it didn’t take too long to figure out who it came from. He rolled his eyes, saving the number to his phone before responding. 

Sukuna: What do you want me to do about it?

Your mother’s reply was quick, ‘Figure out why she isn’t answering and have her call me ASAP’

Sukuna: I’m her sponsor, not her keeper. 

The final message was to the point, ‘Same thing. Do as I told you.’

And as much as Sukuna hated being told what to do, his growing interest in what you were up to was getting to him. But it’s not because he cares, okay? It’s… morbid curiosity. That’s all.

He didn’t grace your mother with a response and instead pocketed his phone. She was lucky Sukuna wasn’t busy tonight, since his shift at the dock was cancelled due to the snow. That meant he had the time to walk to your apartment and make sure you weren’t dead, but he’d only be doing so after he finished dinner for his brother.

He knew you were fine, probably just actively ignoring your mother and grading papers. There was even a chance you were marking Yuji’s failed quiz down at that very moment. 

So, he didn’t rush.

He took his time plating Yuji’s food nicely, calling him out of his room, giving him the excuse of needing to buy more cigarettes before he locked up and stepped outside. The walk to your apartment wasn’t that far, just a few blocks away. But a few blocks in the snow made time pass more slowly.

He kept his head down as he trekked forward, finding himself growing really irritated with you for ignoring your mother to the point she had to reach out to Sukuna– why couldn’t you just answer her? Now, you’ve made this his problem. Sure, he didn’t have to deal with it, but some innate part of him felt like it was his responsibility now. 

You two made a deal, after all.

Halfway to your apartment, he started regretting agreeing to help you. 

A dry handjob for this? Wet boots and wind-burnt skin– yeah, he should go back on his side of the deal. It wasn’t worth it.

He grumbled curses under his breath, growing angrier and angrier the closer he got. 

Fuck morbid curiosity, he didn’t even want to know you anymore. Never wanted to see you or hear from you again for making him do this shit.

And as he thought about all the ways his life would be better if you weren’t in it, there was a change of air quality that made him come to a halt.

The acrid scent of smoke tickled his nose, making him look up from his snow-covered boots and to the sky, where thick gray plumes were filling the air, the origin of them coming from your apartment. 

Well, what was left of it anyway.

master list || next chapter

author's note: sorry this took a little longer to come out! I got hit with my period and a cold at the same time, and to make matters worse, I also didn't have my ADHD medication, and my New Year's resolution was to stop smoking, so I've been dealing with that, too. I was literally nursing a headache for days and had no motivation to do anything other than read and sleep, but I'm better now! There's also a big winter storm coming in, so I'm gonna be tucked inside for days (hopefully). The next chapter shouldn't take too long for me to finish :) very sorry about the cliffhanger, btw! I didn't want to cut it off there, but the chapter would have been like super long if I hadn't. But I can promise that no one of importance is hurt!

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A small, content smile found its way onto your mouth. “You’d risk your car in this weather to take me to see the lights?”

“If that is what my woman desires, then so be it. But I’m really hoping she’ll reconsider because I happen to like that car a lot.”

For as much as he talked about it, you knew that to be true, so it only made it easier for you to make your decision. The lights could wait until it was safe to drive through the snow. However, you thought it was a prime opportunity to mess with your boyfriend a bit.

“I don’t know. She really wants to see the lights tonight, so it might take some convincing.” 

It only took you shifting your hips back to press your ass against him a few times before your bowl of batter was abandoned, and you were taken to Ken’s bedroom. 

Your wish to see the lights was briefly forgotten about, and only resurfaced again a few hours later when Ken returned from the kitchen with the glass of water you had requested.

“Definitely a good thing we didn’t decide to go. The news is covering a wreck downtown that’s causing a big traffic jam. We would’ve gotten caught in that on our way back.” 

You accepted the glass of water with eager fingers. “I hope whoever it was is alright.”

“Not to be morbid, but I doubt it,” he began, sliding back onto the bed beside you. “The pictures they were showing didn’t look too good.”

“That’s sad.” Ken nodded in agreement with you. “Too bad they didn’t have someone like you to talk them down from leaving their house.” You emptied the cup and placed it on your nightstand before cozying up next to your boyfriend, who took you into a warm embrace. “It’s kinda scary to think about.”

“Being in a car wreck? I’m sure most people would agree.”

“No,” you giggled, poking at his bare chest. “It’s scary to think that decisions hold so much importance, and even the ones you think are so small could actually end up killing you. What if whoever that was decided not to go out tonight? Or what if they had waited just a few seconds longer? Or what if they had taken a different street? The wreck could’ve been avoided. And what if it didn’t kill the driver, but paralyzed them instead? They’ll spend the rest of their life thinking about the what-ifs.”

“I really hope that isn’t what happens from this accident. A life full of pondering things that didn’t happen sounds miserable. And sometimes things are just out of our hands. What if they had taken a different street and hit a bigger patch of ice? What if they had stayed home and the house had ended up catching on fire with them inside?”

You frowned and propped yourself up beside him. “What’s your point?” 

Kento shrugged. “Sometimes bad things are meant to happen to people. And sometimes people are just meant to die. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

Your sight narrowed in his direction. “I can’t tell if you’re just being insensitive, or if that was your shot at trying to sound spiritual.” He rolled his eyes as you went on to ask, “How can you say that after what happened with your mother?”

“Despite what you think, my mother was meant to pass when she did, and I know she’d agree with me. It was her time, and because of her death, all these other things have happened–good things. Like how I met you. If my mother were still alive, I wouldn’t have gone into my field of study, never become a psychiatrist, and never have had a part in your college project. You would have asked some other psychiatrist.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, feeling rather bewildered. You tapped his bare chest again. “I think I’ve got it figured out now, Ken.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” When your mouth twitched into a grin, he knew whatever you were about to say was something he didn’t want to hear. Quickly, he batted your hand away as you continued, “You’re talking out of your ass. I know damn well you don’t think bad things are meant to happen to people. You’re too nice a person, and that’s a very negative mindset. Thought you were supposed to be positive all the time.”

“Why does everyone think that?” He wrangled you over top of him, playfully tapping his fingers against your bare waist until you started laughing. “I’ve always seen the glass as half-empty, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In some ways, it’s a positive. To not get stuck on what could have been and to look on the brighter side. You just see the glass as half-full, but that’s why we work so well together, you know.”

Before you could respond, from the nightstand, his work phone started vibrating, bringing you to scoff, “Seriously?”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” 

Gently, he rolled you off his body, giving you a quick kiss before grabbing his phone to take the call outside of the bedroom. With a huff, you situated yourself deeper under the blankets, soaking up the warmth. The muffled chatter of him on the phone drifted into the room, but you couldn’t understand him. It was always like that–Ken speaking low enough that you could really hear him–but that was to be expected with confidentiality, and all that. 

You wondered if that’s what he sounded like talking to you on the phone, too. Does he use that same soft, comforting voice? The one that never ceases to keep you as calm as can be. The one that gives you the reassurance that you need. The one he uses to talk you through it–morning, noon, or night.

Just as you were about to close your eyes, the door opened again, with a not-so-calm Kento entering to quickly dress himself in the clothes he’d tossed on the floor only a few hours ago.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, that car wreck included a patient of mine, and I-” He dragged a hand through his hair when he stopped to breathe. “He’s in the hospital right now.”

“Fuck–is he alright?” You sat up in bed, holding the sheet to your chest. “Wait, wait. You’re not leaving, are you?” He didn’t answer you, too busy getting dressed, too frantic. That’s when you realized. “It’s that boy, isn’t it?”

Only then did he pause.

That boy–the one Kento had been treating for a few years and was what you deemed to be a problem child, yet for some reason, Ken carried a massive soft spot for him.

“Yeah.”

Well, that was that. 

Convincing your boyfriend to stay would not happen. The only other person Ken would risk his car for is this boy–second to you, of course.

“Please be careful. You’re no help to him if you’re dead, okay?”

“I know.” He bent over the bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be back. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

After getting his text that he’d made it to the hospital safely, you waited up for him as long as your eyes would allow, but ultimately, you ended up falling asleep. 

When you woke up hours later, the sun was in the sky, but the bed beside you was still empty. It was a worrying thought, but it quelled itself as soon as you heard the water running in the bathroom.

Slipping into the shower behind your boyfriend, you immediately wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back. He didn’t turn to greet you, but he did drop his hands to the ones you were holding onto his chest with, and gave them a squeeze.

“Was worried,” you mumbled, pressing your mouth into his shoulder. 

“Sorry. I was going to wake you when I got home, but you just looked so tired.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.” 

He hadn’t washed himself yet, you noticed, you couldn’t smell the soap. You released your hold on him and grabbed his favorite wash, finally filling the room with the familiar scent as you gently scrubbed at his skin.

“Thank you,” he murmured, earning your hum.

“How’d it go? Is he…”

“He’s alive. Needed surgery first. But I got to talk to him before I left.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes,” he whispered in a tone that wasn’t entirely him. 

It was off-putting, to say the least. An uneasy sense filled your chest, bringing you to say, “Ken, if you want to talk… I mean, I don’t have the fancy degree like you, but I can still listen.”

He shook his head. “I could lose my license-”

“Only if someone finds out. Which they won’t.” Another bout of silence fell over the shower. “It’s just us in here. You know I would never say a word to anyone. And you don’t even have to tell me his name, not even all the details. Just… whatever you need.”

He nodded again, slowly, letting the room fall quiet, but only for a moment before finally speaking.

“His father was driving, and they started arguing, then hit a patch of black ice. The officer I spoke with said he was trying to… revive his father when they got there. The doctors say he was killed on impact, but the kid says he watched him die.”

“Oh, god. That’s awful.” You felt your stomach roll at just the thought of it. “I can’t even imagine how horrible that must’ve been.”

“He thinks it’s his fault,” he continued dejectedly, “He just started to open up about his mother, and he just started talking to his father again–he was making progress, but I can already tell we’re back at square one, and that’s even if he continues to see me. But there’s no one there to force him to see me–and I know forcing him sounds terrible, but it’s what he needs. He thinks he’s too self-aware to be depressed, and he thinks he’s too smart to be there, and on some level, that’s true. He’s so fucking difficult sometimes, but he’s…”

You let him gather his thoughts in silence and didn’t push him to speak as you cupped water from the shower head and dumped it over his shoulders to rinse away the lathered soap.

“Before, when I said that sometimes bad things are meant to happen to people, I never meant him. I wish I had never said that to you earlier. What I think I really meant was that people get what they deserve– that bad things aren’t supposed to happen to good people. And this boy, despite what he thinks about himself, is good.”

* * * 

Ten Years Later

After the previous incident with your student’s brother–the fish incident, to be specific–a few weeks had passed since you’d seen him last. Not that you were really complaining; Sukuna was a major asshole who had a knack for burrowing so fucking deep under your skin. 

But you had to admit that you’d thought about him a lot, and while you were okay with not having to see him again, part of you wanted nothing more. And you had to wonder if that part of you had control over your body the evening after your group therapy meeting in the community hall. 

Your mother had let you know that she wouldn’t be able to pick you up again, though you weren’t surprised. Since forcing you to attend the therapy sessions, you’d noticed that she was starting to grow very bored with the whole thing. And if you were lucky, she’d eventually disregard it entirely, allowing you to keep your Wednesday evenings free of therapy.

You weren’t lucky very often, so the chances of that happening were slim to none, but there was no harm in hoping.

-You: Meeting is over.

-You: You’re missing yet again.

As you waited for her response while the other attendees filed out of the hall, you took a seat in the back row.

-Mom: Be there in half an hour. Don’t leave. We need to talk.

Lovely.

Because what you needed was a talk with your mother instead of going home to decompress from your stressful day.

-You: And we can’t talk about it over the phone?

Your attention moved down the row of chairs when a familiar jacket was tossed over the back of a seat, followed by the familiar jacket-wearer slumping down right next to it. Taking a look at the time, you realized he was a bit early. The EDA sign hadn’t even been changed over to AA yet.

Sensing your stare, Sukuna glanced over, and for a moment, you locked eyes. You offered him a friendly wave, which was not reciprocated before he rolled his eyes and turned to face away from you. Your mouth fell open as you scoffed under your breath and slid down the row to sit right behind him.

“Hi, Sukuna,” you dragged out playfully, making the man stiffen in his seat. “You’re a bit early.”

“I’m seriously not in the mood to handle your bullshit, so fuck off.”

The grit in his voice sounded serious, so much so that you hesitated even opening your mouth again. However, hesitation doesn’t equate to action, which is why you opted to speak again, against your better judgment, of course.

“You don’t always have to be so rude, you know?”

His retort was almost instantaneous. “And you don’t always have to shove your nose into other people’s business, yet here we are.”

“I’m not really… you know, prying for information. Just making conversation-”

“I don’t want to make conversation with you. Ever.”

You tutted at him, softly poking at his shoulder. “I wonder, is this how you normally treat people? If so, it’s a shit approach-” 

Abruptly, Sukuna grabbed your hand and swiveled to face you in his chair. The contact was startling and had your mouth drying out, worsening when you noticed a certain look in his eyes. You had genuinely pissed him off this time.

“Not sure what I’ve done to make you think we’re closer than we actually are, so cut the shit.” His grip on your hand tightened, and he leaned in closer as if the proximity was going to get his point across. “I don’t give a damn if you’re Yuji’s teacher. I don’t like you. I don’t want to get to know you. I want you to leave me the fuck alone. Got it?”

You cleared your throat, swallowing down the thickened saliva while gently trying to pry your hand out of his grasp. 

“I just… well, I thought-” The next words you wanted to say–maybe we could be friends, Sukuna–never left your mouth. When his grip tightened, you mumbled, “Got it,” and only then did he release you, tossing your hand back into your own lap. “I’m sorry-”

And like the last time you approached him in a meeting, he replied, “Go be sorry somewhere else,” and turned away from you, leaving you to stare at his tense shoulders.

“Okay,” you mumbled with a humorless chuckle and grabbed your own coat. “Got it.”

You slipped out of the meeting hall feeling a bit confused about your own behavior. It wasn’t like you intended to try to befriend the man. After all, you hardly knew him. But there was a feeling of familiarity that surrounded him that you found yourself clinging to. 

Or maybe familiarity was the right word, and instead, you felt as though you could relate to him. You both attended therapy groups, and you both clearly had your own issues to work through.

But there was a part of you that couldn’t help but make some kind of deeper connection to him, even if you had never met him before in your life. You weren’t spiritual enough to assume you’d met up in a past life, but that’s almost what it felt like at times.

No, that’s definitely not it. You were merely drawn to him because he seemed to be just as fucked up as you. Birds of a feather flock together, and all that. And perhaps you were a tad lonely, too. 

You knew that Shoko, Utahime, and Gojo were always there for you, but they didn’t truly get it. They can say that they understand until they’re blue in the face, but at the end of the day, they’ve never experienced what you have. And trust, you’re not trying to feel sorry for yourself; you were just stating the facts.

Of course, they lost Nanami the same day you did, but they also didn’t lose their other half as you did. They didn’t lose the one person who kept them grounded, the person who made them feel whole.

Somehow, some way, it felt as though Sukuna had experienced the same level of grief as you, and it was… comforting. And just as it was comforting, it was also so fucking odd because you didn’t know him at all, and he clearly did not want that to change.

You waited in the lobby for your mother for an hour before she finally showed up. The air in the building shifted into something colder as soon as she stepped inside, and you knew it had nothing to do with the cold draft that followed her in. It was just the way she was, always toting around a chilled, numbing effect, which only seemed to affect you.

As soon as she spotted you, she approached with precise steps, heels clicking on the tattered linoleum. You didn’t stand to greet her, and she didn’t expect you to, either. The relationship with your mother was just as numbed as the air she put off. It had always been that way. 

“How was the meeting?” she asked, coming to a halt in front of you. 

“Fine. It would’ve been better if I didn’t have to sit here for an hour afterward to wait on you.”

“Well, this part should be quick. You’re getting yourself a sponsor. I just want to mention it to the host, so they’re made aware-”

“Woah, wait. A sponsor?” She gave a slow nod. “I don’t need one. I’m doing just fine-”

“It’s not up for debate, actually.”

“The hell if it isn’t.” You stood then, grabbing your coat in the process, readying yourself to brush past your mother. “I’m not getting one-”

“You are.” She grabbed onto your bicep to stop you from leaving. “Someone has to be here to make sure you’re staying on track.”

“Yeah? I thought that was supposed to be you. What happened to that, huh?” You pulled away from her, wincing when her manicured nails scratched against your skin. 

“I can’t always be the one to babysit you-”

“No one is fucking asking you to! I’m a grown woman, and the only reason I come to these damn meetings is because of you!” Her lips pressed flat, eyebrow cocked as she waited for you to backpedal. Little did she know, you weren’t going to. “I don’t need these meetings–I don’t need a sponsor. What I need is a mother who doesn’t hold me right underneath her thumb, so back off.”

Her eyes flicked down your body, eyeing you over critically, and in a manner that never failed to make you feel so insignificant. When she settled her sights on your face again, she blinked. “I interviewed a few candidates today, and found the perfect match-”

“For fucks sake,” you groaned, “Leave it to you to turn something like this into a business exchange–that’s not how sponsors work. You can’t just pick one for me-”

“I can, actually. And I did. His name is-”

“I don’t give a shit what his name is.” Like before, she simply waited for you to retract your statement, which you didn’t. However, you were smart enough to know that arguing with her wasn’t going to get you anywhere. If she wanted you to have a sponsor, you were going to have one, whether you liked it or not. “What if I already have a sponsor? Still gonna force yours on me?”

“Do you have a sponsor?”

No–fuck no. You didn’t anticipate being in the program long enough to need one. But still, you lied, “Yes. I do.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Then where are they?”

You motioned around the empty lobby. “They already left. EDA has been over for an hour, remember?”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Keeping this part of my life separate from you is my goal. You tend to ruin most things, and ruining this will only keep me here longer.”

She seemed to believe the snarky tone in your voice. “Fine. You have your own, but I’ll need to meet them. Make sure they’re qualified, and all that. So, what is their name?”

* * * * * 

“Hey, Sukuna,” Kenjaku called out to him from the entrance to the kitchen. He dropped the soapy dish back into the water and reached over to pause the music, waiting for Kenjaku to finish speaking. “There’s someone up front asking for you. Says it’s important. You can just go ahead and take your break.”

“Did they give a name?”

“Nope. Hurry up, though. Your break starts now.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes and tore off his gloves, folding them over the edge of the basin to dry before grabbing his coat from the employee locker and venturing to the front of the restaurant. 

There was only one person who would show up at this place, asking for Sukuna, or so he thought. However, it was not Uraume that was waiting on him. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sukuna grunted, pushing past your guilty-looking self while rummaging through his pocket for his pack of smokes. 

“I know this seems really weird-” 

“Does it, really?” he sarcastically replied.

You followed close behind him, around to the back of the restaurant, and watched him light his cigarette as you went on to add, “But I swear, I have a good reason. Well… I guess it’s not a good reason–you definitely won’t think it’s good, but you’re kind of a pessimistic person, so that’s to be expected, which is fine-”

“Look, I’m on break because of you, and I’m not even halfway done with my shift.” Somehow, that guilty look on your face only worsened. “So, just spit it out already. Not trying to spend a whole fifteen with you.”

And with that near insult spat in your direction, you winced and bit out, “I need you to do me a favor.”

Sukuna almost choked on a mouthful of smoke. “A favor?” You gave a hesitant nod. “From me?” You nodded again, and after a few moments of contemplative silence, Sukuna chuckled, “You’re funny.”

“I’m not joking-”

“I’m sure you aren’t, but it’s funny you thought you could ever ask a favor of me.”

“Sukuna, please-”

“We don’t even know each other, and you want me to do something for you?”

“Yes-”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“You don’t even know what I want yet,” you argued, as if that would help your case.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t like you. I told you to leave me alone.” He brought the cigarette to his mouth for a deep, much-needed drag. “You’d think someone who was married to a psychiatrist would understand the concept of boundaries.”

He watched your jaw move, flexing tightly as you ground your teeth together. “And you’d think someone who attends a group therapy program would know how to listen and keep their mouth shut.”

As much as he hated himself for it, he enjoyed the grit in your voice and the way that retort hissed passed your lips. But more than either of those, Sukuna really enjoyed the angered scowl on your face, which was the only reason he decided to entertain you, but only for a few more minutes.

“Alright, princess. Let’s hear it, then.” 

Without wasting any time–though, in hindsight, Sukuna almost wishes you had given him time to prepare him for your response– you said, “I need you to be my sponsor.”

His brain worked overtime to catch up with the present, because surely, he missed a few things. 

How could you jump straight into that? Were you really that stupid? To ask something so personal of a total stranger? Just how close did you think you were to him? Because Sukuna can, and should, assure you that you were definitely not close enough to be asking that of him.

“As I said, I know it’s weird-”

“No. Showing up where I work is weird,” he interrupted you, “but asking me to be your sponsor is just fucking dumb. Aside from the fact that we don’t know each other, we’re in different programs.”

You shoved your hand into your purse, rooting around for something. “Yes, but-”

“But nothing-”

“Can you please just give me a second-”

“No. That was a stupid favor to ask-”

“Sukuna,” you huffed, shoulders falling slack. 

“What?” he huffed, too, equally as exasperated with you as you were with him. However, the difference was that he had every right. What the fuck were you doing here?

“Just let me explain.”

He shook his head and leaned back against the brick wall of the restaurant. “Not interested. The answer is no-”

“Please-”

“Fuck off-”

“My mother-” As you went on to explain, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. “She’s forcing a sponsor on me-”

“So, then you already have one. What the hell do you need me-” 

His interruption was cut off with a cold palm pressed over his mouth. 

Immediately, his eyes snapped open, honing in on you and the small panting breaths that were forming little clouds in the cold air. When he roughly batted your hand away, your other palm came up to cover his mouth, too. 

Thus began the handsy fight of you trying to keep him quiet and him trying to free his mouth.

In the few seconds when his mouth was free, he managed to spit, “What the fuck?”

“Please-”

“Are you fucking five-”

“Just listen to me–please-”

During the fight, he dropped his cigarette–his last cigarette–which angered him far more than the fight itself. 

He reminded himself of the strength difference, and that you were a lady, and that getting physical with you would only land him in jail, but fuck, you started it. Had you been a man, your head would have been knocked into the pavement the second you touched him. But since you weren’t, the most he could manage was to restrain you.

He latched onto your wrist and flipped the position, pushing your back into the wall, pinning your hand to the brick above your head. Your free hand was just as persistent, but it only ended up pinned to the wall, too, held tightly in one of Sukuna’s hands, while he used his other to cover your mouth.

Your chest heaved, eyes widening as you took into account the change of stance–the literal corner he had backed you into. He could see the fight leave you then, and even felt it in your weakening pushes against him.

“You’re a fucking crazy bitch. Who just covers a stranger’s mouth like that, and thinks it’s okay? Were you taught any fucking manners? Or can you just not stand being told no?”

Sukuna could only hope that the shitty restaurant security cameras picked up how you’d initiated this, or he’d end up in jail by the end of the night, if you decided to press charges for assault. But, fuck, if you did, he’d get your ass for harassment, first-

The feeling of something wet and slimy slid over his palm–you’d fucking licked him.

“Nasty bitch,” he snarled, pulling his hand away to wipe it off on his pant leg.

In one breath, you rushed out, “You covered my mouth like that the first day we met. And just because we’re in different programs doesn’t mean you can’t be my sponsor-”

He clenched the hand you licked into a fist and groaned, “You forgetting the part where I don’t fucking like you?”

“No. I got that–I understand-”

“So, what the hell are you doing? I’m not gonna change my mind-”

“You don’t really have to be my sponsor. I just need you to pretend until my mother gets off my back about it. Otherwise, she’s going to put me with a person who takes it too seriously, and they’re gonna be on my ass constantly-”

“Maybe that’s what you need. Then, it’ll keep you away from me-”

“I’ll pay you!”

With a scoff, Sukuna released your wrists and backed away from you. “I don’t need your money-”

“Then whatever else you want, within reason, of course.” You were almost reaching out for him. “I’m desperate.”

“Yeah. I can fucking tell. Why can’t you pick someone else from your little group? And don’t you have friends?” 

“I do, but… they’d smother me. And I don’t trust anyone from my therapy group. They’d be on my ass, too. I just–please, Sukuna. I know it’s a lot, and I know you don’t like me, but I swear to god, if you do this, I’ll never bother you ever again.”

Then a sick thought crossed his mind–just how desperate were you? 

Well, you both were about to find out. 

“You want me to be your sponsor so badly, then blow me.”

The hopeful look in your eyes died out as you brokenly whispered, “W-What?”

Biting back a grin, he leaned in closer. “You heard me. Suck my dick, or find a different sponsor.” When you didn’t respond, Sukuna deemed that a win. “Ah, not as desperate as you thought, are you?” With you still caught off guard by his request, he took another step back. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. Until then, don’t fucking talk to me.”

He had weighed his options at the moment, deciding that either outcome would be nice. He’d get a blowjob, or he’d be free from you. 

No matter which way he looked at it, he was winning.

* * * 

The next few weeks without having to hear from you, or even see you, were nice. Yuji talked about you a few times when mentioning a school project that he needed help with, but other than those moments, you hadn’t been on Sukuna’s mind. If not for his brother and the couple of times he caught the community center volunteer changing the EDA sign to the AA sign, Sukuna would have forgotten about you entirely. 

He really thought that was it, that you’d never reach out again, and he’d finally be rid of you and your irritating comments. But Sukuna should’ve known better.

“Hey. You got someone here to see you. Same person as before,” Kenjaku shouted over Sukuna’s music as he bumped him out of the way to take his place. “Go on. Make it quick. She’s waiting at table nine. And she ordered a cup of coffee, so take that to her.”

“M’not a server,” Sukuna grumbled as he ripped off his gloves. 

“But you’re mine to boss around until midnight, so hop to.”

Sukuna spotted you the moment he stepped out of the kitchen, sitting in the booth across the room, picking at your thumbs with a blank expression. It was only when he stood at your table that you even broke out of your one-sided staring contest with the air.

“Sukuna-”

“Here,” he snapped, harshly placing down the coffee in front of you, paying no mind to the slight spillage. 

You glanced down at it with a frown. “Oh, I wanted it with cream-” Your voice trailed when you noticed his glare. With shaky hands, you accepted it. “Just kidding. I love black coffee. It’s the best.”

Grunting, he slid into the booth across from you, watching your nose crinkle in disgust when you forced yourself to sip from the mug. You grabbed a lot of sugar packets, emptying them into the drink, before asking, “So, how are you?”

“Honestly, I’m confused.” You raised your brows at his answer. “If this is about me sponsoring you-”

“Nh! People can hear you.”

He rolled his eyes and quieted his voice. “What are you doing here?”

You hesitated with your answer, but eventually said, “I’ll do it. The uh… well, you know.”

Mockingly, Sukuna tilted his head. “I don’t think I do.”

“Sukuna.”

“What? How am I supposed to know what you’re gonna do? I’m not a mind reader.”

“You know, the thing we talked about a couple of weeks ago.”

He shrugged, finding himself feeling a bit playful. Taunting you was too easy, and for some reason, it came to him naturally, as if his sole purpose was to grind your gears. “Can’t seem to remember.”

You knew he was fucking with you at that point. “No? Did you drown all of your brain cells in alcohol?"

He snorted before muttering, “Careful. Remember, you want something from me. You should play nice while I’m feeling generous.”

“Generous? You’re gonna make me suck you off.”

“First, I’m not making you do anything. Second, you said I could have anything I wanted out of this deal-”

“Yes. Within reason.”

“And a blowjob isn’t within reason?”

“No! It’s entirely unreasonable!” Your outburst gained the attention of a few other customers, drawing you into yourself with an embarrassed huff. “But if you’re seriously going to sink that low-”

“I am.”

“And if I have no other option, then I’ll do it,” you ended with a deflated sigh. “But I’m hoping we can come up with something else-

“Nope. A blowjob will do.” He moved to slide out of the booth while adding, “My shift ends at midnight, so you can wait for me-”

“What?” You jolted, panicked that he was leaving already. “But we’re not doing this today.”

“Why not?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “Don’t you want to talk about this first?”

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t have to walk you through a blowjob, do I?”

“Not that part, you dick. The sponsor part.”

He brushed you off. “I’ve been doing this a while now. I think I can play the part of a sponsor. Besides, you said I was only pretending.”

“Yes, but-”

“But nothing. Either you trust me to do this, or you don’t.” He slid out of the booth. “Shift ends at midnight.”

* * * 

Nine Years Ago

“Sukuna?” his therapist called out to him, reaching forward toward the teen in a motion that was too quick and too slow at the same time. “Hey…” 

Sukuna’s head was swimming, spinning, and his thoughts weren’t the least bit coherent–what the fuck was his therapist saying? He squeezed his eyes shut to regain some of his blurred vision–black dots were starting to speckle the outer corners again.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” He felt Nanami’s hand grab his face before his eyes processed the man who was right in front of him.

“I hear you,” he slurred, pushing at the man to create some distance, though he didn’t have anywhere backward to go since he was confined to the therapy chair, and there was no way he was getting up any time soon.

Now that he was thinking about it, how did he get to Nanami’s office in the first place? The fact that he couldn’t remember was not a good sign.

“M’fine-”

“No, you’re not. You’re drunk.”

“No-”

“Don’t lie. I can smell it.” Nanami released his hold on Sukuna's face and stood straight in front of him. “How much did you drink?”

“Like… all together? Or today? Wait, actually… I don’t know.” Even while intoxicated, the disappointed look on Nanami’s face was blatantly obvious to Sukuna. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your bullshit-”

“Sukuna,” he said firmly, forcing the teen to fall silent. “When was the last time you were sober?” 

“Uhh… lemme think…” he trailed off, snickering to himself–he didn’t fucking know. “The last time I was sober… I was balls deep in your mother.” 

The jab didn’t rattle Nanami as much as Sukuna hoped it would. Rather than laying into him for it, Nanami raked a hand through his hair and took a seat across from his patient.

“How’d you get here?”

Sukuna snorted, “Fuck if I know.”

“You didn’t… drive, did you?”

“Come on, now. You know I didn’t drive,” he chuckled, tilting his head back to rest against the back of the chair. “Don’t even have a license.”

The room continued to spin around Sukuna, even if he closed his eyes. It was starting to make him nauseous, but he swallowed back the bile that was gathering in the back of his throat.

“Yet somehow you were able to get your hands on some alcohol. How is that?”

He gave an uncoordinated wave of his hand. “I have my ways.”

“And are those ways going to end up with the police knocking on my door, telling me that you’ve robbed a liquor store?”

“Would you be scared if I said yes?”

“No. But I would be disappointed.”

The disappointment was a given at this point… 

“Don’t worry. The only thing I robbed was my dad’s liquor cabinet. Since he’s never coming back to drink it, I didn’t want it to go to waste.” A wry smile tugged at the corners of Sukuna’s mouth. “He collected it. It’s whiskey, I think. Couldn’t really be sure. It’s not from here, it’s western, or something… Buffalo Trace. Kentucky Owl. Pappy Van something…”

“Pappy Van Winkle,” Nanami corrected him. 

“That’s it.” Sukuna snapped his fingers. “Tastes like shit, by the way.”

“So, why’d you drink it, then?”

“I like the feeling.” The teen shrugged. “The Hibiki tasted like shit, too.”

“Maybe you’re not a whiskey person.”

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers, right? It’s all he had in the cabinet.” When a silence fell over the room, it was almost too much for Sukuna to take. He tilted his head to the side, peering across the way to his therapist. “I thought you’d be more angry.”

“What good will come from my anger? It’s only going to fuel your self-destructive tendencies, and you have more than enough to fuel that on your own, as it is. I want no part in tearing you down.”

“Mm…” He tilted his head back again, closing his eyes and letting the blackness spin him around. “Thought I’d get you with the comment about your mother, too.”

“My mother is dead, so unless you were… defiling her urn…”

A bubble of laughter slipped out before Sukuna could help it. It wasn’t that he saw the situation as funny–well, not genuinely funny. It was amusing in a dark sort of way. 

“You should have mentioned that when we first started seeing each other. Then we would have had something to bond over. How’d she die?”

Sukuna didn’t expect Nanami to be so forthcoming with the answer.

“Pancreatic cancer. It was aggressive but… slow. We all had to watch it happen.” And with that admission, any bit of humor fled Sukuna. His smile fell away. “Until there was nothing we could do to stop it. Kind of like you with your mother, right?”

That’s definitely not how Sukuna intended the conversation to go.

Another bout of sickness twisted in his gut.

“Fuck off-”

“And with your father, too-”

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t come here to talk about them-”

“I think you did. You came here for a reason, and I think it’s to talk about all the things you don’t have the courage to talk about when you’re sober.”

“Stop pretending that you know me. It’s pathetic to see you struggle to use that degree of yours by trying to relate to someone you don’t understand. You don’t know more than what I’ve told you, and what I’ve told you is jack shit.” Sukuna watched as Nanami rubbed his hand over his mouth, contemplating his next move before pushing up from the chair. “Where are you going?”

Nanami didn’t answer him. He pulled open the filing cabinet behind his desk and, with a careless hand, started pulling files from the top drawer. When he cleaned out the first, he moved to the second, and then to the third. By the time he was finished, there was a stack of files almost a foot tall. 

“Here’s what I’ve gathered on you so far, and this is without the added documentation I’ve collected from other sources. It spans from June of 2012, all the way until now, so it’s roughly three years of information.” He turned back to the cabinet and pulled out the remaining two drawers, adding those files to the stack. “And here’s what I know about you with the added documentation. Records of school attendance, transcript, test scores, doctor appointments, CPS home evaluations, newspaper clippings, family medical history-”

“So fucking what?”

“So,” Nanami began, taking in a deep, calming breath, “I know you, Sukuna. I know seeing this-” He gestured to the tall stack of files. “-pisses you off. I know your next move is to shut down again because you think it’s going to keep me from figuring out more about you, but I know that you know it’s useless to even try when I have you mapped out this far.”

Nanami sighed and began filtering through the top few files until he came across the one he was looking for. He seemed to hesitate yet again before he rounded his desk, tossing the file down onto the coffee table in front of Sukuna.

“What’s that?”

“Something I shouldn’t be showing you, or I risk losing my license, but I’m hoping it might be helpful,” Nanami explained as he took his place in the chair across from Sukuna again. 

Shakily, the teen sat up and made a sluggish grab for the file. The first name he was faced with when he opened it made the twisting feeling in his stomach worse. 

“Your mother… what happened to her was not your fault. It wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision to do what she did; it had been building for years. If she would have had the proper treatment from the start, if she would have had a doctor who noticed the changes, if she-”

“If I hadn’t given her the knife,” Sukuna mumbled, swallowing back the bile and the ball of emotions that was forming in the back of his throat. “If I hadn’t just stood there and watched her do it-”

“You were eleven, Sukuna. You were just a kid–you still are. How could you have known?”

His voice tipped off into muffled nonsense, falling flat on Sukuna’s ears, all while Sukuna’s eyes tiredly slipped over the lines of Nanami’s useless diagnosis of his mother.

“MDD, major depressive disorder, that’s… genetic. Isn’t it?”

After a few seconds of silence, Nanami answered, “It can be.”

“Is that what you have written down for me, too?” 

Sukuna closed the file and tossed it down on the table, giving Nanami what remained of his uncoordinated attention. 

Slowly, the therapist nodded, as if he didn’t want to give Sukuna the answer. “In your case, it’s comorbid–it coincides with another diagnosis.”

Sukuna chuckled, “What’s the other? Alcoholism? That runs in the family, I’m sure you know.”

“PTSD,” Nanami answered flatly, not finding Sukuna’s dark humor to be all that humorous. “Not just from what you witnessed with your mother, but… the car crash with your father, too. You even said it yourself, you wouldn’t drive. Even while intoxicated, you wouldn’t get behind the wheel of a car. That’s good in theory, but it only proves my diagnosis. And you use alcohol to cope with the trauma-”

“Yeah, no shit. I think that’s pretty obvious.”

Nanami smiled softly at the retort. “Alright. Come on, let’s get you home-”

“No, I can’t–I–fuck…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Yuji’s home, and if… if Gramps sees me like this, he’ll kick my ass. It scares Yuji when he yells–can’t go home. Just lemme see your phone.”

“What for?”

“I’ll call someone,” he slurred, clutching his head when he moved forward too fast. “A friend or something.”

Nanami didn’t make a move. “Which friend?”

“What’s it matter to you? S’not like you know any of ‘em anyway-”

“If it’s Uraume, the answer is no-”

“What the fuck–why?”

“They’re fifteen. Like you. And it’s almost midnight. I’m not having a teen walk to my office to escort you home at this hour. That’s not safe for either of you.” The firm tone he took with the teen left no room for discussion on the matter. “You can stay with me in my office, or I can call the police to have them take you home when you feel sober enough to face your grandfather.”

“Those are both shit options.”

“Yeah, that’s what you’re left with when you make shit decisions.” The therapist stood, moving back behind his desk to slump into his chair. “I planned on staying overnight to work on some stuff anyway, so let me know if I should call the station and have them take you home, okay?”

* * * * *

You told yourself you weren’t really going to do it, that you had more self-respect than you were giving yourself credit for. But as you told Sukuna a few hours ago, you were desperate.

After his proposition a few weeks ago, you discarded your idea of asking him for help, and decided to settle with the sponsor your mother had hired for you. And that entire situation had turned out to be a terrible mistake. 

As you had assumed, the man was on your ass constantly, even inviting himself into your home a few times to spend the night and make sure you were really staying on track. Three weeks later, you fired him and almost kick-started your criminal record with an assault charge tacked on at the very top, which wouldn’t have fared well with your job, you’re sure.

Your mother was pissed and promised a new hire swiftly. You, however, weren’t going to let that happen. Hence, your decision to wait at the back of the restaurant where Sukuna worked.

He might’ve hated you, he might’ve been a complete asshole, but that’s what you needed. Someone who didn’t give a shit if you lived or died. Because if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t bother you, and you could finish up this stupid program quicker–if your mother allowed it, that is.

The creaky hinges of the door echoed through the empty parking lot, followed by the sound of one-sided chatter. You were hidden behind the dumpster, not keen on anyone else finding out that you were really about to whore yourself out to one of your students’ brothers.

Briefly, you wondered if you’d have to notify the school of this relationship.

“...M’telling you, if Mahito tries that shit again, he’s gone.”

“He should’ve been gone months ago,” a familiar voice responded. “You’re just too scared to fire your employees because it means you’ll have to take on an extra shift.”

“I don’t wanna hear anything from the guy who only works one day a week. You know, if you’d quit that janitor job, I’d have someone to work Mahito’s schedule-”

“No fucking way,” Sukuna chuckled. “Cleaning up classrooms is way better than this place. And that says something, doesn’t it?”

“It’s Mahito’s fault,” the other argued.

“No, it’s your shit management.”

“Fuck off. I’m the best boss you’ve ever had. Don’t lie.”

“Whatever. Give me my check.”

“Ugh, it’s like you’re only here for one thing.”

From what you could hear, the two exchanged goodbyes before parting ways. Across the parking lot, you heard a car start up, which prompted you to peek around the dumpster and make sure Sukuna wasn’t leaving without seeing you first-

And your face bumped right into a thick wall of muscle before you had a chance to process anything. While you had been startled by it and reeled back as quickly as possible, Sukuna stood still, glaring down at you with an irritated look.

“You’re starting to seem like a real stalker. You know that, right?”

You added more distance between you. “You fucking told me to wait. I thought you were getting in your car-”

“I don’t have a car.”

“You–I–whatever, fuck. You know what I’m here for. Let’s just…” You waved your hand around as if to explain the plan.

He cocked a brow, a smirk taking over the usual scowl. “You’re seriously gonna do it?”

“I wouldn’t have waited back here if I wasn’t.” Sukuna blinked, seemingly surprised. “What?”

He chuckled, “Just didn’t think you’d accept, it’s kinda shocking. I know you’re desperate, but-”

“Do you want your dick sucked, or not?” His chuckle turned into an actual laugh, and while it was a nice sound, you didn’t appreciate it while offering up your mouth. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he mumbled, biting back laughter as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and peeled his jacket off his arms to toss on the ground between both of you. He gestured toward it before pulling a cigarette from the pack and placing it between his lips. “Go on, sensei. Blow me behind the dumpster.”

Did he just give you his coat to kneel on?

No, no. There’s something more important to address.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? I’ve called you that before.” He exhaled a mouthful of smoke and pocketed his lighter. “Or is it different right now because when you go back to work on Monday, you’ll have to listen to my little brother call you the same thing, and remember how you slutted yourself for me? Behind the dumpster, too-”

“Christ, if the dumpster is bothering you, we can do this in my car-”

“No. I like it here.” After a few seconds of silence, he gestured to the coat again. “It’s not gonna suck itself, sensei.”

Just like that, a wire snapped, a fuse exploded–he pissed you off.

With a forceful shove, his back hit the dumpster, and rather than getting just as angry as you, his eyes widened in delight. A grin curled onto his mouth as you pressed yourself against him, your hands moving to his belt. Your precise fingers unbuckled it, moving next to the buttons and the zipper, and when you were able to, you shoved your hand down the front of his pants to take him in a tight fist. A hiss slithered past his lips, bringing with it a few tendrils of smoke.

You pumped him a few times, finding that he got hard far quicker than you had anticipated. The cocky grin on his mouth fell away, too, followed by a slight, pleasured furrow forming between his brows. Being so close, the smoke from the cigarette was tickling your nose. Without thinking, you plucked it from between his lips and snubbed it on the side of the dumpster. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem bothered by that.

“Fuck-” The sound of his poorly suppressed groan lit a fire in your lower stomach. “This isn’t–you’re not-” 

He brought his hand up to your shoulder, pressing on it, urging you to kneel, but you shoved it away and used your own to pin his shoulder to the dumpster. You knew if he truly wanted to, he could push you away from him, yet he didn’t. And for some reason, you really liked that.

As you pumped him in a tight grip, his precum coated your palm, which you slicked down his cock in a way that had his eyes fluttering shut. With another groan, he leaned his head back to brokenly mumble, “This isn’t–fuck. Isn’t a blowjob-”

“You’re right. It’s not,” you purred, leaning in closer. “Only good boys get their dick sucked. You’re lucky I’m even touching you right now after your bad behavior.”

Sensing the sarcasm in your voice, a faint grin flickered on his mouth, and he raised his head again. “You’re a fucking freak for getting off on the sensei thing.”

“The only one getting off on that right now is you.” To prove your point, you slowed your movement and slid your fist to his tip, circling around it to gather more precum that beaded there. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you already spilled your load. But you haven’t even finished yet, have you?”

Like before, his arrogance diminished, but he didn’t answer.

You hummed condescendingly, “And you’re about to cum in your boxers like a fucking virgin.” Your taunting earned you a lovely sound from him and a tight hand fisting the front of your shirt. Shakily, his hand slipped up to your chest, groping you over your clothes, losing himself in it like he actually might be– “You are a virgin, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” His jaw clenched before he added, “Fuck off. I’m–shit, don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum?”

“Yes-”

“So quickly?”

He groaned, frustrated. “Fuck–yes, yes-”

“And you’re going to meet my mother tomorrow to talk about being my sponsor?”

 “Mhm.” Blindly, he agreed, getting himself right on the edge of orgasm before he noticed what he accepted. “Wait, what-”

While his realization came too late, he came early, coating your hand in stripes of his warm, sticky release. The grip he had on your chest turned brutal, probably hard enough to leave a few bruises, but the way he sounded, the way he kept thrusting into your hand made up for that entirely. You knew he was finished when he finally grabbed your wrist to stop you from stroking him.

He pulled your hand from his pants with a scoff and pushed at you when you tried to use his shirt as a cum rag for your sticky fingers. “The deal was a blowjob. If I wanted to be jerked off, I would have done it myself.”

“Sure, but you definitely wouldn’t have cum that fast.” The look he gave you made you laugh. “Tomorrow, my mother and I are meeting at-”

“I don’t give a fuck. M’not going-”

You continued speaking over him. “Noon, at that cafe on the corner. It used to be a diner. You know the place?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, bending over to grab his coat from the ground.

“If you give me your address-” 

“Fat chance,” he grumbled.

“I can pick you up-”

“You can go fuck yourself. I’d rather walk.” 

You only sighed in response to that, watching after his retreating back as he started toward the street. 

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With as much confidence as you could muster, you slid open his door quietly and stepped inside, your friend right behind you. You noticed that near the bed, a small fire was going in a lantern, and that the blankets adorning Sukuna’s futon were thick, padded with fur, and entirely unused. He lay without a cover, sprawled out on his stomach with his arms clutching the pillow beneath his head, and facing away from the middle of the bed.

You both shared a look, giving a nod of assurance before venturing inside. Yorozu took the spot furthest from Sukuna, giving you the middle, but with how big his sleeping space was, there was plenty of room between you and your mentor that you wouldn’t be touching that much. You could only hope it was enough that you wouldn’t disturb-

“If I feel either of you press your cold feet against me,” Sukuna began gruffly, making you and Yorozu pause, “I’m killing you both. Brutally and slowly. I’ll skin you alive and make a pelt with your hide. Understand?”

Audibly, you and your friend gulped before muttering in unison, “Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Don’t make me regret my leniency.”

Sleep came a lot easier after that, now that you weren’t trembling with cold and attached to someone who kept shaking you awake with her own chills. You lay facing Sukuna’s back, and behind you, Yorozu coiled her arm around your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck to keep warm, and eliciting a soft purring sound of sorts that lulled you right to sleep.

Yet, sometime through the night, you ended up lying right beside him, tucked in underneath his chin with three of his arms caging you in, and the other extended for Yorozu to rest her head on. With a tentative hand, you reached out and traced your finger down the bridge of her nose until it crinkled ever so slightly.

“Ro-zuu,” you softly called out, a mere whisper, gently tapping on her squished cheek. She swatted at your hand, slapping it away with a harsh movement, but it made you laugh. “Come on. Time to get up.”

With another few taps on her face, she let out a huffing whine. “You’re so annoying. Like a buzzing insect that won’t leave you alone.” 

“But you like insects. That’s your whole thing.”

Her usual wide eyes finally cracked open, heavy-lidded and sleepy. However, they did squint around the edges when she smiled at you. “There’s a difference. I enjoy sturdy insects–beetles and such. Your poking my face is reminiscent of a gnat, which is as weak as it is annoying. Do you know what I do with annoying little gnats like you?” 

“Mm, kiss them and tell them they’re pretty?” you suggested, reaching out to twist a lock of her messy hair around your finger. 

“Close.” She grabbed your wrist, bringing it to her mouth to kiss her way up your arm until she maneuvered herself overtop of you in a quick motion. As your hands fell to her hips, hers fell to your neck, where she softly squeezed and leaned down. “I actually kill them. Now, if you beg me, maybe I’ll spare you.”

“Why bother to beg when all I really need to do is remind you of whose tongue you enjoy sitting on?”

“Watch your mouth, woman,” Sukuna groused, reminding both of you that he was still there. “Were you raised to speak like a little whore?”

A tiny grin flickered on your face. “I wasn’t really raised at all, my lord.”

“Therein lies the problem, I suppose. Regardless, take your coupling somewhere that won’t disturb my sleep–and that means beyond your bedroom. I can hear you two romping around in the middle of the night all the way over here.”

“And you’ve never thought to join?” you teasingly questioned, understanding that doing so was a gamble for whether he’d flay you alive or not. Should he, you deemed that to be worth it for a little bit of taunting. “Why is that?”

“Lack of interest.”

“The mouths on your hands please you enough?”

“That they do,” he grumbled, pushing himself to sit up, resting his elbows on his bent knees to rake a hand through his hair. He didn’t even spare you a glance before muttering some curses under his breath and standing up. “Clean up after yourselves. If I have to lie in a wet bed later, I’ll be very displeased.”

As soon as he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him, you spared a glance at the woman on top of you, who was looking just as confused as you were feeling. 

“Didn’t he just tell us to leave?” she asked.

“He did.”

“And he’s the one leaving instead?”

“Seems so.”

She hummed over it. “Odd.”

“Very odd.”

* * * 

You sniffled as you raised your hand to your nose, wiping away the condensation that was accumulating there while you followed your mentor through the snow-covered forest. You’d both been traveling since early that morning, and the setting sun was telling you just how long you’d been trekking through a winter wasteland. With the promise of a few more days' travel ahead of you, you stowed away your complaints to use later since it seemed Sukuna wasn’t in the best of moods. 

It was only you and Sukuna this time, since Uraume’s technique wasn't needed when bringing back this hunt’s yield. The cold atmosphere would keep the bodies from decomposing on your way to the shrine. 

Part of you was thrilled to have alone time with your mentor, but the other part of you was dreading it. Long trips in the winter meant long spaces of time without conversation, and he was more irritable than usual. Sukuna would only entertain your questions for so long before he snapped at you to be quiet, so you used your voice sparingly.

You wiped at your nose again, sniffling some more, and wrapping your stag pelt tighter around your arms. The cloak was one Sukuna had given to you at the end of summer, along with a pair of fur-lined gloves and boots to match. You thought they were unnecessary at the time, but they were very useful in the moment. Surprisingly, Sukuna donned his usual attire: white hakama pants and a black haori, which left his bare chest exposed to the cold air. It made you wonder how he was managing without even the faintest shiver–he was still human, wasn’t he?

Well, you were curious enough to waste one of your questions on it.

“My lord?” After so long without using it, your voice was a bit raspy.

“Hm?”

“Are you not the slightest bit cold?”

“I’m fine.” 

His gruff cadence was focused enough that you knew better than to pry into his answer. Instead, you closed your mouth and followed along behind him, stepping right into the much larger footprints he was leaving in his path. 

“And you?” he asked after a few minutes, which threw you for a loop–you’d forgotten you’d even asked him something in the first place.

“And I, what?”

You heard him let out a huff, and you saw his breath crystallize in the air above him. “Are you cold?”

You sniffled again as you contemplated how to answer. Caving in and saying yes was admitting to weakness, but lying and saying no wouldn’t do you any favors. At least if he considered you weak, he might also consider stopping for the night to light a fire.

“A bit, my lord. The snow is quite deep, and we’ve been walking through it all day.”

“Mm.” 

He came to an abrupt halt, one that you weren’t prepared for. With how closely you were following behind him, you crashed right into his back–his warm back. The second you recoiled from him, you instantly wanted to reach forward again and give your fingers something warm to press against. 

“Careful, girl,” he scolded you while he pulled the haori off his shoulders and tossed it at you. The garment hit your face when it draped over your head. Under any other circumstance, the action would have pissed you off. However, after bearing the cold air for so long, it was nice to have something warm covering you up. Not to mention, it also smelled like him, encompassing you in his scent that you’d always found to be comforting.

Before you could pull the cloth from over your head, you felt your basket being lifted off your shoulders, with the haori lifted off right after. With his two upper hands, he wrapped the cloth around your shoulders, tying it tightly over your chest with the excess cloth.

“Is that better?” he asked.

“A little.” While it left you a tad warmer, you’d still prefer to sit in front of a fire to thaw your frozen limbs. “But when are we stopping for the night? I’m quite hungry.”

He snapped at you, “Don’t be greedy,” and pressed your basket back into your hands. “We’ll stop when I say so. Until then, be quiet.”

Your jaw clenched. “Yes, my lord.”

You continued on until you were struggling to see the footprints he was leaving in his path, despite being right behind him. The only indication that he was still there was the sound of crunching snow and snapping twigs-

Until that fell silent, which left you in a cold, pitch black world, with no sense of direction. 

“My lor-” A hand clamped down over your mouth, startling a gasp from you. 

“Listen,” Sukuna said from behind you. You wondered if you had walked right past him, or if he had managed to move so silently to get behind you. Either way, you did as he commanded, listening for whatever it was that he was hearing. 

In the distance, you heard a rustling sound and some grunting. Clearly, it was an animal, but with how dark the area around you was, you didn’t know what it was exactly. Slowly, Sukuna pulled his hand away from your mouth.

“What is it, my lord?” you whispered, so quiet that a normal human wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

“A bear.” The warmth that was pressed to your back disappeared. “I want you to go kill it.”

You choked at his order. “Me? I can barely kill a man–I cannot kill a bear-”

“You can,” he interjected, “And you will.”

Though it would do you no good, your eyes widened. “What?”

“You will kill it, or it will kill you. Simple as that.”

Your stomach dropped. “My lord, I-” You reached back, finding the space behind you to be empty. “Sukuna, please…” The grunts of the bear only ventured closer to you.

You could recall Sukuna’s teaching strategy–a ‘throw you to the wolves’ mentality, that he would use when guiding you during your youth. However, he’d never thrown you in front of a bear before.

“I can’t see,” you called out to him, hoping he’d retract his order of killing the beast that was only getting closer–you could hear its paws crushing the snow on the ground. 

“Then open your eyes, girl,” Sukuna suggested playfully, his voice coming from somewhere in the distance, from a direction that you couldn’t point to. “It’s right in front of you.”

With that, you sliced at the area in front of you, hearing it hit nothing but the air, followed by Sukuna snickering from wherever it was that he was spectating the hunt. You threw out another, this time hitting what you deemed to be a tree rather than a bear.

“You’re not even aiming-”

“I need to be able to see in order to aim, my lord,” you snapped. “How else will I know where my target is?”

“You don’t need to see your target. Feel for it instead.”

You scoffed, “With what? My hand? Isn’t that counterproductive–the bear will bite me!”

He chuckled again. “Not with your hand, with your cursed energy.”

“I don’t know how to do that!”

“You’ll figure it out. Now, if I remember correctly, there’s a hot spring nearby. I’ll go set up camp there.”

“What?!” you shrieked, falling back on your ass when a taloned paw swiped at you, just barely grazing your stomach. “Sukuna, you can’t-”

“You can handle it. Have faith in yourself.”

And just like that, you were left on your own to take down the bear that you couldn’t see.

* * *

The warmth of the hot spring was lovely, though it was doing very little to soothe the residual tendrils of adrenaline that were still coursing over your nerves. Your hands were still shaking, and you were still sniffling, but it had nothing to do with the cold weather anymore. 

From behind you, on the other side of the hot spring, you heard Sukuna approach, steps crunching through the snow as he went. You didn’t turn away from where you rested your arms on the rocky ledge of the pool. 

When he came to a halt at the edge, he huffed, “You’re crying.”

Yes, you were.

You didn’t respond to his observation with anything more than a sniffle.

He huffed again before you heard the subtle sound of splashing water, and only then did you turn around… to see him slipping into the hot spring… naked–or at least you assumed. His bottom half was submerged before you had the chance to check. Quickly, you turned back around so he wouldn’t notice that you were staring.

For a few quiet moments, all you could hear was the droplets of water hitting the surface of the pool, and the crackling of the fireplace he’d set up just a few feet away–and your sniffling, of course. The tension only continued to thicken as he bathed himself, all while you waited for him to say anything, yet he didn’t.

Eventually, the water stilled–the sound of it, the ripples. You thought that maybe he’d left you alone until you felt a newfound heat press against your back, and four arms caging you in against the edge of the hot spring.

“You did well,” he said, finally breaking the silence that started to accumulate. “I anticipated having to step in, but you managed it on your own-”

“Barely,” you snapped. “I just barely handled it on my own.”

He snickered, “So you’re angry that you succeeded?”

“No. I’m angry that you…”

“That I, what? Taught you something?”

You scoffed, “You did not teach me anything, Sukuna. You put me in front of a beast and told me to fight for my life-”

“And because of it, you can now aim your cursed energy without needing to see, which is an excellent thing to know how to do, should you ever find yourself in front of a bear in a dark forest ever again.”

“I could have died,” you bit out, jaw clenching when the tears started to build up again. 

“I wouldn’t have let you die, brat. I was keeping watch.” You could almost hear him roll his eyes. “What a waste of food, that would be, if I let a bear devour you. I’m saving you for the right time, letting you ripen up, so you’re less bitter and sour. I want you sweet.”

“Save yourself the trouble, my lord. As it seems, I’ll always be bitter and sour wherever you’re concerned. All I am to you is a scared, lazy little girl.”

“Mm, at least you’re self-aware.”

“Yes. I am.” A furrow formed between your brows. “It’s unfortunate that you cannot say the same about yourself.” 

You placed both of your hands on the edge of the hot spring, about to hoist yourself out, when he grabbed onto your hips to hold you in place. You gasped at the pressure he was gripping you with, but it was only enough to bruise you.

“I’ve more self-awareness than you may think, brat. The difference is that I choose to discard the morals humans collectively created to keep others from succeeding, and focus on what truly makes a person stronger.” His grip lightened, but he didn’t let go of your waist. “I could have assumed a gentler approach to teaching you, but you wouldn’t have come this far in such a short amount of time. I have enough self-awareness to know that morals hold you back. Morals make you weak. If you want to be strong, if you want to make it to the top, you need to stop following the weak-minded fools who put these morals in place.”

“And not following these weak-minded, foolish morals means you have to place me in front of a starving bear, leaving me defenseless, to kill or be killed?”

“You are not defenseless, girl.” His hands slid up your sides, brushing over your ribs to graze down your arms. When he grabbed your hands, he raised them in front of your face. “In your pockets, you carry around the sharpest blades this world has ever known. All you need to do is learn how to use them.” 

Your hands curled into fists as you gave a tug against his grip, but it was unrelenting. Carefully–delicately–he turned your hands over and pushed apart your fist with his thumb, forcing them to open up. And with a smooth touch, he grazed the pad of his finger over your splayed out palm.

“To live in this world means to kill or be killed, no matter if you’re placed in front of a starving bear, or not. This place is brutal, and it always has been, long before I was even born.” He leaned over you, chin resting on your bare shoulder, mouth angled toward your exposed throat. Sukuna spoke with such a kind tone–a purr of sorts–but his words carried something darker. “I only adapted to its cruelty, and I need you to do the same. The next time you’re alone in a dark forest, it might not be a starving bear that you’re standing in front of. It might be someone so starved, whose hunger for pretty things like you never stops.”

Somewhere in his explanation, you started to melt against him, falling back into his chest to become something so malleable.

“What if it’s not someone else, my lord?” you questioned, nearly panting when his breath brushed over your pulse. “What if you were starved? And what if I were alone with you?”

Like right now…

“Then you never stood a chance to begin with. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.” His voice hit the column of your throat before his lips did. Against your skin, he added, “And the sad part is, you wouldn’t try to stop me either.”

You bit back a moan, leaning your head away to bare more of your neck to him. “Should I?”

“If you value your life,” he murmured, mouthing over the thin, delicate skin. Instinctively, your back arched into him, breath turning into something so ragged. It felt nice to be touched by him, even if you were still angry about his unsavory teaching methods.

“And if I don’t value my life?”

He paused all of his movements, even his breathing, maybe even his own heartbeat, before he swallowed back a deep groan. 

“Then you’ll stay with your back to me, and you won’t tell me to stop, no matter what.” In that moment, your mouth seemed to have dried out so much that you nearly choked on your gasp the second you felt his teeth press into your throat to scrape up to your jaw. “Say you understand.”

You felt two hard cocks press against your ass, rutting into you in slow thrusts. The ideas that were left with you were mouthwatering. 

“I-I understand, my lord,” you whispered shakily, only to have your mouth covered seconds later by a large hand.

“And don’t call me that. Not right now.” 

He must not have needed your response because he kept his hand in place over your mouth, and with another, he palmed his way down between your thighs. Before you knew it, there was a smaller mouth sucking on your clit. The abrupt contact had you jolting with a cry while Sukuna pulled you back in while hushing you. He let out a groan, mouthing at your neck.

“I hope your flesh tastes half as good as your pussy,” he purred against your ear. “So fucking sweet–a flavor suited for gods like me.”

Your eyes widened upon his words while a certain kind of heat twisted deep within you. To hear him speak to you like that was arousing you more than you’ve ever been before. If you could, you’d beg to hear more of it.

The small tongue gave a parting lick to your clit before pulling back. And just as you were about to complain about the loss of stimulation, you felt two of his fingers slide down your slit to barely dip inside of you, circling around the entrance. Slowly, he inched them in, forcing a high-pitched whine out of your throat that Sukuna’s hand swallowed up. 

He hummed against you, “Still so tight, even after whoring yourself around with the sorceress. You both are always stuffing your fingers in each other’s cunts, I’d figure you’d be a little more stretched out than this.”

You heard it, the change in pitch, signaling he was feeling something. But what emotion was it exactly?

He pressed them inside, dragging them out slowly, like he was trying to coax something out of you before he repeated the motion again. 

“What a shame,” he cooed in a mocking tone, “I really planned on fucking you tonight, but I don’t want you to tear.” 

His hand fell away from your mouth to palm your tits, pinching at your hardened nipples until you were writhing against his hand.

Breathlessly, you mumbled, “I thought you wouldn’t fuck me. You said so the day I returned to you.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“M-Mhm-” You drew in a gasp when he added a third finger, stretching you more. The most you’d worked up to with Yorozu was two fingers, and hers were significantly smaller than Sukuna’s. But you had to admit that three of his had a lovely, full feel. “Why deny yourself the pleasure? You could have fucked me months ago.”

“When would there have been a chance? Any free time of yours is spent face down between Yorozu’s legs.” Whether he meant to or not, he pressed both of his lengths against your ass and groaned. “But it seems as though you’ll need more of the sorceress’s assistance. You’re still too tight to take me.” 

“What-?”

All too soon, he pulled away from you in every capacity, making you feel so fucking cold, despite being enveloped in hot water. You turned around to face him in such a quick motion that it left your head spinning. The sharp, condescending smirk you were met with pissed you off more than you were originally.

“N-No,” you stammered, reaching out for him, only to find that he was just out of your reach. “No, I can take it-”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re a whiny, entitled brat. I’d break you, and you’d cry, so you should probably stick to Yorozu’s fingers. But lucky you, you seem to like those enough.”

It hit you then–his attitude while traveling, his abrasive teaching method, forcing you to freeze and fight a bear in the dark, and then getting you all warm and ready for an orgasm, only to pull away at the last second…

“You’re punishing me, aren’t you?”

He tilted his head. “Why ever would I punish you?”

You gasped quietly. “You are, and you’re doing it in subtle ways, like I wouldn’t notice–passing it off as tough love.” Your eyes narrowed when you realized what this new emotion of his was. “Are you jealous of me?” 

“Jealous? Of you?” He cocked a brow and snickered, “Now, what is there to be jealous of, brat?” Sukuna leaned down, his face mere inches from yours. “I outrank you in every sense of the word.”

You gritted your teeth. “But I get to fuck Yorozu, and you don’t.”

His facial features hardened into stone before they cracked into a grin while he snickered. Standing straight, he towered over you, staring down at you like you meant nothing. 

“Do you think that if I truly wanted to fuck Yorozu, that I wouldn’t have done it a thousand times over by now? Even if she didn’t throw herself at me any chance she could, I’d still be able to have my way with her whenever I’d like, because I take whatever I want, and no one can stop me. Now, watch your mouth before I have to prove my point.”

You crossed your arms. “Prove your point by doing what? Fucking Yorozu?”

His eyes narrowed into slits at your blatant display of disrespect. He leaned forward again until he was right in your face. You didn’t back down, not at all; you wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated by him. 

“No, stupid girl. I’ll prove my point by bending you over the edge of this hot spring, and fucking your ass and your cunt at the same time, until you start begging the gods to make me stop. And then I’ll keep going just because I can, because you can’t stop me, because no one can stop me from doing anything. So watch your fucking mouth before I do something about it.”

“You wouldn't.”

And if you thought he looked angry before, that was nothing compared to how he looked at you next. Though his face was rigid, he appeared emotionless–that’s how you knew just how pissed and irritated he was with your back talk.

He walked you backwards until your lower back was firmly pressed against the rocky edge of the hot spring. Caged in by him once more, your confidence wavered slightly. When he raised his hand, you flinched away from it, expecting to be slapped or sliced–yet it was nothing like that at all. 

It was a caress–a gentle one, too.

Slowly, you raised your eyes from his chest, up to meet all four of his. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, pressing into the corner of your mouth to coax it open. Once you did, he pressed down on your tongue before tracing the pad of his finger over the ridges of your teeth, feeling their sharpness.

You felt stuck in place, frozen under his intimidating stare. And when he leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouth and his, you really thought he was going to kiss you. 

He didn’t.

Instead, he stopped just before your noses could touch.

“You’ll watch your mouth, or I’ll slice off your tongue, and you’ll never speak again,” he purred so softly, as if he weren’t threatening you. “And wouldn’t that be a shame for poor Yorozu, to no longer have someone to lick her cunt.”

The abrupt changes of the tension, his mood swings, his words–they all left your head feeling a bit dizzy. 

He released your jaw from his hand and moved toward the edge of the pool to hoist himself out. Your eyes honed in on his backside, despite your efforts not to, as he grabbed his hakama pants he’d hung up on a nearby tree branch, to slip into.

* * * 

You arrived back at the shrine a little after noon the following day.

“Oh, you’ve returned earlier than expected,” Uraume commented as they opened the gates for you. 

Their eyes flicked to the empty space behind you, mouth gearing up to ask the obvious question, but you answered first. “Lord Sukuna thought it best to continue the trip on his own, so I returned alone.”

That wasn’t the truth–Sukuna didn’t give you orders to return, but you had done so anyway, not keen on traveling with him and his jealousy any longer. As it seemed, Uraume didn’t believe your lie for a second, but allowed you to enter anyway.

“Where’s the sorceress?” you asked, pulling at the black haori your mentor had lent to you.

“Hard to say. The last place I saw her was the study, reading over some new articles the villagers left as offerings.” They took the haori from you and folded it over their arm to clean. “You must be cold and hungry. If you follow me to the kitchen, I’ll-”

You interrupted them, already veering off from their lead. “That’s alright, Uraume. I’ll see to it to warm and feed myself. Thank you.”

You checked the study first, finding Yorozu there, as Uraume had said. Her back was to the door as she read over a scroll of paper with enough concentration that she didn’t notice you’d entered the space. The lantern she was curled up next to for warmth crackled, spitting little sparks into the air, and from the corner of the room wafted over the scent of burning incense. It was warm and calm–everything that your previous day had not been.

The door to the study slid shut, which is what garnered her attention. She glanced over her shoulder, peeking through strands of her long black hair as she smiled.

“I didn’t think you’d return so quickly.” She rolled up the scroll while you stepped closer. “How were your travels?”

“Cold,” you answered, hands moving toward your clothes to remove them. “Wet. Dreary.”

“Cold, wet, dreary,” she repeated and exhaled a laugh, which tapered off when she looked up again, seeing that you were almost nude. “Fitting for… the winter season, yes?”

“Indeed.” 

When you were down to your kosode, you knelt beside her and slid your fingers underneath the top layers of her winter robes, leaning in to kiss her. She responded to them slowly at first, leaning out to gauge your emotions until you pulled her back in. Her mouth felt nice against your own, soft and comforting.

“You’re so warm,” you commented, saddling onto her lap when she tugged at your kosode.

“And you’re so cold. Maybe you should warm up before taking off all your clothes.” When you only kissed her in response, she giggled and caved into your advances. You felt her shiver the second your hands slid beneath her clothes to palm her tits, and when you kneaded them too hard, she let out a quiet hiss. “Needy?”

“Very,” you answered, pulling the layers of her clothes down her shoulders until her chest was bare. You cupped the swell of her breasts, brushing your thumbs over her nipples until she let out a sigh against your mouth. 

“Did something happen between you and Sukuna?” Her question had your hands faltering, and of course, she noticed. “What was it? Was it bad?”

You shook your head and kissed down her neck. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’ll only assume the worst,” she taunted, though it was playful.

“Assume whatever you like.” Your hands pressed into her shoulders, pushing her to lie flat underneath you. “So long as I get to eat your pussy.”

You unraveled her robes, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her flat stomach until your tongue was circling over her clit. You had thought that was that, until she fisted your hair and pulled your mouth off her pussy. Your eyes flicked to hers, which held a touch of concern.

“Promise you’ll tell me after?”

You really didn’t want to. You wanted to forget that it happened altogether because it was only serving to piss you off. And what could you tell Yorozu–that Sukuna was jealous of you because you got to have the sorceress whenever you wanted?

And you wanted her in that moment–your face was mere inches away from her pussy, which could be the only reason why you agreed. 

“Okay. I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, she lowered your mouth back to her cunt, holding the back of your head still to slowly grind against your tongue. Your gaze traveled up her bare sternum, settling on her chest and the way it swayed with each one of her breaths.

Your friend was so pretty and warm and nice and not fucking jealous of you, no matter how close it seemed you and Sukuna got. Her motives for sticking so close to him were odd–Sukuna was not a lonely man, though he didn’t mind having companions (hence you and Uraume). 

She wasn’t going to change his point of view on it, and she knew that. Perhaps that’s why she never found herself envious of your relationship with Sukuna, or maybe she saw you as fulfilling her ultimate end goal.

But all that said, it begs the question of why Sukuna is jealous of you, getting to have Yorozu this way, when he was more than capable. Either willingly or not, your friend could belong to Sukuna at any given moment, as soon as he decided he wanted that.

So why was he punishing you? Why was he angry with you?

Legs clamping shut around your head pulled you away from your straying thoughts, reminding you of what you and Yorozu were doing. She came against your mouth with a shudder and such pretty moans that made desire lick away at your nerves.

Her thighs fell away from your face, giving you the chance to breathe while she struggled to catch her own. You continued to suck and lick until she was pushing your head away. “Now, we talk,” she said, a little breathless.

“One more.” 

She must’ve seen the determination in your eyes because she didn’t put up much of a fight when you buried your face between her legs once more.

However, it was not just one more. Not even two or three. In fact, you lost count, and eventually, when you spared her one last glance, you realized the woman had fallen asleep after her final orgasm had faded out. You let out a sigh, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh before climbing up her torso to lie beside her.

Just when you were about to follow her to sleep, she stirred beside you, nestling her face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. “A promise is a promise, you know,” she sleepily mumbled, “Tell me what happened.”

“Are you even going to stay awake long enough for me to tell you?”

You felt her smile press into your bare shoulder. “Give me the shortened version.”

The shortened version–you almost laughed at the thought. To be able to understand why Sukuna does anything requires a backstory and some details. But in that moment, you were both too tired for that.

“Alright. I believe our lord to be jealous of me because I have something that he wants.”

She giggled, curling her arm across your waist. “He’s not jealous, silly girl. He’s envious.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Of course. To be jealous is to be wary of losing something to someone else. But to be envious is to long for something you can’t have.”

* * * * * 

It was only a few hours later that you were roughly pulled off the floor of the study room. Sukuna dragged you by your ankle down the hallway, paying no mind to the fight you were putting up. You could sense the anger wafting off of him–it was stomach-churning.

“Stop!” The back of your head bumped along the floor as he went, until finally, you felt the cold chill from the outside air blowing in. “Sukuna, stop! Please! Let me go!” Seconds later, you got your wish, but it came in the form of him throwing you out into the deep layers of snow with only your thin, damp kosode to keep you warm.

Once more, you were tossed into darkness to fight a beast you couldn’t clearly see, only this beast was Sukuna, and not something as helpless as a bear.

You flinched when you felt his hand grip your jaw, angling your face up. Just barely, you could see the outline of his features.

“Who do you think you are, running off on your own, leaving me out there to wonder where you went?”

“Oh, spare me, my lord,” you spat, “I’m sure you handled yourself just fine without some lazy, stupid girl trailing behind you, running her mouth, all but asking for you to slice off her tongue-”

“It would have been long gone by now if I truly meant that, you petulant little brat.”

From under the engawa, you heard a feminine voice call out to you both, asking, “Must you fight?”

Sukuna didn’t turn to address Yorozu, but you did, never taking your eyes off your mentor. “It’s alright, Yorozu.”

“But are you alright?” she asked, and you heard the snow crunch under her feet as she ventured closer.

You raised your hand to stop her from taking another step, turning to ask Sukuna, “So why threaten me with removing my tongue, if you were never going to do it?”

“Because threatening you used to keep you in line, but ever since you befriended that sorceress whore-”

“That sorceress whore? Say her name, Sukuna. It’s Yorozu, and you are so fucking jealous–no, envious of me, that I get to fuck her and you don’t! Because you can’t, thanks to some of your self-proclaimed morals! And they’re fucking foolish–you’re foolish!”

The look on his face was incredulous, exasperated, bewildered. Then you heard him chuckle, and somehow, it chilled the wintry atmosphere even more. Even your friend, a couple of paces away, felt how everything started to freeze over and let out a quiet gasp.

She took another step forward. “Pretty girl, that’s not what-” 

Her words were swallowed by her quick intake of air when Sukuna grabbed her arm, pulling him right in front of her. She whimpered when two of his hands fisted the garment she had on and tore it off her body, tossing the fabric aside to leave her shivering in the cold.

“Sukuna-”

“Be silent,” he ordered you, and turned the woman to face you. The second your eyes met, an uncomfortable exchange happened. You didn’t know what you should feel, and neither did Yorozu. But there was one thing you could see above anything else.

She wasn’t smiling; she wasn’t trying to gloat. But you could see the eagerness in her eyes–this is what she wanted, what she’s pined over since you’d come to know her.

She was excited.

He raised her off the ground with two of his hands while the other two grabbed the bottom of her thighs, spreading them apart for you to see everything that was about to happen between her legs. Sukuna pulled his cocks free from his pants, and without warning, without any preparation, he shoved both of them into her pussy. 

Your breathing hitched at the sight, and instantly, she went still in his arms, turning painfully rigid, biting back a cry, but the eagerness in her eyes never faded. He was hurting her, and she liked it.

Her head tipped back to rest on his shoulder while he mouthed at her neck, never taking his eyes off of you while he fucked her hard. The sound of it was sickening, but arousing–conflicting, too. You weren’t sure what to feel anymore.

The moonlight was reflecting off his slickened cocks, pumping into her pussy, and even the trickles of her arousal that were dripping down to coat his sack. She was enjoying it, but Sukuna… you weren’t sure. His expression didn’t change, didn’t soften from his glare, nor did he make any sort of noise. Not that it would matter, with how loud Yorozu was crying out for him not to stop.

And when she finally came around his cocks, you felt a little dizzy. You didn’t know why, but your bottom lip began to tremble, and tears welled in your eyes. You should leave. You should just go back inside so you weren’t there to witness him finishing inside of her, because you felt as though that might actually make you sick. Yet you couldn’t move under his stare.

When she went limp against him, he finally let go of her, allowing her shaky legs to slide to the ground and barely support her. He brushed off her hands when she reached out to him, which sent her stumbling into the snow.

“Fuck…” she breathed, giggling deliriously. While she got to live in her euphoric little bubble, outside of it, you and Sukuna were still staring at one another.

You wiped at your eyes with a stiff hand, sniffling to yourself, but not backing down from the competition. At the sight of your tears, Sukuna’s face split into a sharp grin.

“We’re on even ground now, yes?” he coyly questioned, tilting his head just a bit to feign a playful exterior. It was anything but–it was lethal.

And your next words would push the limits.

“Fuck you, Sukuna.”

“Not yet, but if I desire you the next time I’m in the mood, I might consider bending you over.” His grin never faltered, and faster than you could track, he put you on your knees in front of him. “Since you enjoy the taste of her so much, I’ll honor you with the task of cleaning me up.”

He didn’t ask before he forced one of his cocks down your throat, and instantly, the taste of Yorozu’s pussy coated your tongue, tinged with a metallic taste. You choked around him, fighting his hand on the back of your head as he forced you to swallow him deeper.

You hit him, you pushed at him, you did everything you could to get away-

Until you heard him moan for you.

Slowly, you looked up, meeting all four of his red eyes. His breathing seemed to hitch right then, his thrusts down your throat faltering and slowing, almost like he was going to pull out. 

When you felt the underside of his tip glide over your tongue, you reached out to grab his thighs, holding him in place while you relaxed your throat to take more of him. At first, the grip he had on your hair tightened so harshly that you winced, painfully moaning around his cock. He exhaled a heavy breath, lips slightly parting as he finally started to guide your movements.

The more relaxed he became, the more confident you got. You grabbed hold of his other cock, pumping him with a tight fist. 

You began to wonder at which point he was going to toss you away as he’d done with Yorozu. After all, he was using you to prove a point just as he’d used her. 

But he didn’t moan when he fucked her. He didn’t have a helpless look in his eyes like he did as he looked down at you, watching you stroke and suck him.

You realized then that somewhere in the time between him putting you on your knees to the current moment, he stopped wanting you to clean him off and just wanted to get off in your mouth. You liked that–him using you for that purpose. Or maybe you just liked how he looked as he did it. 

The sounds that filled the air, his panting, you swallowing him down, it was turning you on, so much that you couldn’t help but reach between your legs and shove your fingers into your pussy. 

You moaned as you flexed your hips to take them deeper, thinking how easy it would be to get off like that. Sukuna tracked your hand movements between your legs and cursed under his breath before asking, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

You shook your head, slowly pulling back from his cock until your lips just barely grazed his tip. You panted, “There was never any time, my lord. I was always looking for you.”

“Fuck, don’t call me that right now,” he groaned, tilting his head back.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not a child anymore.”

“But you’re still my lord,” you muttered against his cock, sliding your tongue underneath his tip. “You took care of me. You protected me. You’re my savior, aren’t you?”

A strangled sound fell from his mouth as he shoved you away, this time with a gentle touch. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

The moment shattered then, and as he started to guide himself back into his pants, you were scrambling to make him stop. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you and instead turned to walk back into the shrine. Your wide eyes were stuck on his retreating back, confused as ever. In the snow pile just a few feet from you, you heard Yorozu bite back her laughter, which gained your attention. You looked over to see her pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. 

“What the fuck was that?” she asked, giggling. 

Slowly, you shrugged, entirely bewildered by what had transpired in such a short amount of time. “I have no idea.”

The absurdity of it struck you a little funny, too, and before you could help yourself, you were laughing along with your friend, bringing yourselves to near tears as you shuffled through the snow to get closer to her.

* * * 

“Good morning,” Yorozu greeted, stepping out on the frosty engawa, where Sukuna was sitting, smoking kiseru in hand.

Just as the sun had started to rise above the horizon, the shrine’s atmosphere turned a little colder, leaving a chill to nip along the sorceress’s skin. Yorozu had disentangled her limbs from yours only moments ago, leaving you to snooze on the tatami floor, close to the smoldering lantern to keep you warm while she went off to find the origin of the new chill.

“Are you aware that our common interest didn’t know the difference between jealousy and envy?” At her question, the man grunted, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips as she continued, “But fret not. I set her straight.”

“How lucky she must feel to have such a doting teacher,” he groused through a mouthful of smoke. “I suppose she told you what happened on the hunting trip, then?”

“Not in detail, but I’m certainly clever enough to figure it out. It was fairly simple. She was basically writing it out between my legs with her tongue-”

“Don’t be crude.”

“But you’re a crude man, Sukuna.” Yorozu stepped closer, taking her spot right beside him. “I remember when there were concubines all over this shrine. You took them in by the dozen.”

“As a food source-”

“But you fucked them first, didn’t you?” When he didn’t respond, she tapped her pointer finger nail on the weathered wood below her. “And you fucked me, too.”

“Should I consider you a concubine now? Is that what you want?”

“Not exactly.” Playfully, Yorozu leaned her head on Sukuna’s shoulder, which he quickly pushed away with a shrug of his shoulder. “While I’m always eager to climb into your bed, I don’t want to be a concubine. From your lips, I’d still like to be referred to as the sorceress. It has a lovely sound to it.” She let out a quiet giggle. “Besides, we both know last night was merely for show. You were proving a point, weren’t you?”

“And what point was I needing to prove then, sorceress?”

Yorozu didn’t need to respond to that–they both knew the answer as if it were written in the air right in front of them. Instead, she settled on something far simpler. “You’re bewitched by her.”

“I’m bewitched?” Sukuna scoffed, “A concubine, a sorceress, or a poet–pick a damn trade already, woman.”

She held her laughter behind a bitten bottom lip. “Okay, bewitched perhaps isn’t the right word-”

“Not even close. Interested, I’d say.”

The woman kept speaking over him. “Fascinated–oh, I know. Mesmerized–no, more like enchanted-”

“Mesmerized? Enchanted? The brat is not a damn mirage, you idiot.”

“No?” Yorozu questioned coyly, tilting her head to one side, allowing her long black hair to slide over her face. “Then why do you look at her as though she is?”

Sukuna’s limbs froze, kiseru held just in front of his mouth as he gave her words some thought. “I don’t-”

“You do-”

“And who are you to argue with me?” he snapped, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips, inhaling deeply to use up the last of the substance in the pipe. “The woman interests me more than she should, but to be anything more than simply interested is not…”

As he trailed off to find the right word, Yorozu offered some of her own. “Isn’t what? Justifiable?”

“It isn’t right,” he settled on with a long, drawn-out sigh. “The woman is… so similar to me, not just with her technique, but her childhood, too.”

“She is not a child anymore, Sukuna-”

“Spare me. I do have eyes. Four of them. I’m well aware she has… grown up.” The smoldering ash in the pipe died out, prompting Sukuna to turn it over and dump it out over the engawa–away from your stupid koi fish, of course. “It has nothing to do with her age.”

“Then what’s stopping you from fucking her-”

“Watch your mouth, you wench,” he scolded, earning an amused huff from Yorozu.

“Forgive me. Allow me to rephrase. It’s very clear that you both want one another, so what’s stopping you?”

He didn’t have to ponder the answer long.

“My respect for her.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched Yorozu’s head snap to face him. “Respect? Since when do you respect anyone other than your servant?”

“I respect those who have earned it.” 

Sukuna pushed himself to his feet, striding toward the open shoji as Yorozu all but crawled after him to ask, “And she’s earned it?”

“In a way, I suppose she has. While she fights me at every turn and sports a tongue that’s as vulgar as yours, she’s managed to prove that she carries a backbone that rivals my own in terms of permanence. I believe that to be a respectable feat.”

Just as he went to take another step, she spoke once more. “My backbone is just as rigid. I hold my ground, too. So, I don't understand-”

“You wouldn’t. You hail from a loving place, having known what it’s like to not be ostracized for things that you cannot control. Having such strength is a lot easier to achieve when you've been supported your entire life. The rest of us weren’t so lucky.”

master list || next chapter

I really didn't have a plan for this little story when I started it. It was just a way to practice writing True Form Sukuna smut, and as you can see, I'm still avoiding it. That being said, it will be in the next chapter, and the next chapter will also be the last.

If you wanna be tagged for the last chapter, lemme know! I can't say for sure when I'll have it out, since these are just sort of practice chapters, so I only work on it when I need a break from my other stories.

Thank you for reading! <3!!

tag list: @uluvlillypad @rriwyu @bcurrton @bloomlilyww @kaofindj