Chapter Text
Yuji tugged at the collar of his shirt as he stepped out of the office building, the weight of the failed interview dragging down his shoulders. He had smiled, answered as best he could, tried to keep his energy up—but the polite, practiced smile of the interviewer told him everything. We’ll be in touch. Which meant, of course, they wouldn’t.
Money was tight, tighter than he liked to admit, and this job had felt like his one good shot. He shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling sharply as he walked toward the station.
That’s when he felt it.
A prickle on the back of his neck, the kind that made his instincts stir uncomfortably. His steps slowed, eyes flicking to the side. The street wasn’t empty—salarymen trudged home, a few couples lingered by storefronts—but the sensation was too sharp, too focused. Like a gaze cutting straight through him.
He turned a corner, heart picking up. But nothing happened. No sudden shadow, no voice calling out, no one reaching for him. Just the faint hum of the city, the same as always. By the time he reached his apartment door, Yuji laughed under his breath, brushing it off as paranoia.
He had barely kicked off his shoes when his phone buzzed.
Megumi: Hey. Don’t forget tomorrow.
Yuji smiled. Of course he hadn’t forgotten—Megumi’s birthday was circled in his head weeks in advance.
Another message popped up before he could reply.
Megumi: Nobara’s sick. So it’s just us this year.
Yuji leaned against the wall, phone in hand, a small warmth creeping into his chest despite the weight of the day. Just the two of them. That didn’t sound so bad.
* * *
The next day came quicker than Yuji expected. The heaviness from yesterday’s interview felt distant now—pushed aside by the thought of celebrating Megumi’s birthday.
The café they picked was small and tucked into a quieter street, the kind of place with warm lighting and soft music humming in the background. Yuji spotted Megumi at a corner table, already sitting with his usual composed expression, an envelope resting in front of him.
“Yo, happy birthday!” Yuji grinned, sliding into the seat across from him.
Megumi gave a small nod, holding up the envelope. “My parents sent this. Guess they remembered.”
Yuji scratched his cheek, not sure how to respond, so he quickly pulled out his own gift. “Ah, uh—here, this is for you.”
He pushed the box across the table. It was wrapped neatly enough, but the shape gave it away immediately. A heart. Bold. Obvious. Completely unintended.
Megumi stared at it, then slowly raised his eyes. “…Seriously?”
Yuji’s face burned. “Wait—no, it’s not what it looks like! I just grabbed the chocolate box because it looked fancy, I didn’t realize it was… you know… heart-shaped.”
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the clink of coffee cups at other tables. Then, unexpectedly, Megumi sighed and unwrapped it, muttering, “You’re an idiot.”
But Yuji caught the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips.
Megumi opened the envelope with his usual calm, but Yuji’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the contents. Bills. Thick, neatly stacked, no mistaking the number.
“Wow,” Yuji blurted before he could stop himself. “That’s… a lot.”
Megumi shrugged like it was nothing, tucking the flap back down. “My parents. They probably think money makes up for being absent.” He set the envelope back on the table. “I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t touch my coffee.”
And just like that, he slipped away, leaving Yuji alone with the envelope sitting right there between them.
Yuji leaned back in his chair, trying to focus on the faint music in the café. It’s not my business. It’s Megumi’s. Don’t even think about it.
But the number wouldn’t leave his head. One thousand dollars - at least. That was rent, groceries, and then some. It was breathing space—exactly what he needed. His fingers twitched against the table.
Just a little… he wouldn’t even notice if I borrowed some. Right?
Before he could talk himself out of it, his hand shot forward and pulled the envelope closer. His heart hammered, the guilt setting in instantly.
“Need some help with that?”
The voice was low, smooth, and unfamiliar. Yuji froze, lifting his gaze.
The man standing over him was impossible to miss. He was tall, sharp-eyed, with hair tied back and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His clothes looked expensive—black dress shirt open just enough to show a gold chain, a fitted blazer that screamed wealth and confidence. Rings glinted on his fingers, and even the way he leaned on the table felt calculated, predatory.
Yuji swallowed hard. Whoever he was, he didn’t belong in this cozy little café.
The man’s smile widened as his eyes flicked to the envelope. “Looks like you’re in a tight spot, kid. Want me to show you how to make real money?”
Yuji’s throat felt dry. The man’s words wrapped around him like a snake, tempting, suffocating. He clutched the envelope tighter, then forced a crooked smile.
“I’m good, thanks,” he said quickly. “Really. Don’t need anything.”
The man tilted his head, studying him with eyes that felt too sharp, too knowing. Then, just as Yuji was about to crack under the pressure, the man’s smile stretched wider.
And then—he was gone. No footsteps, no door chime, no trace he’d ever been there at all.
Yuji blinked, heart pounding. Did I just… imagine that?
“Back.”
Megumi’s voice pulled him back. Yuji looked up, nearly jumping as his best friend slid back into his seat like nothing had happened. The envelope sat innocently between them, untouched. Yuji quickly pushed it back across the table, pretending his hands hadn’t been anywhere near it.
They lingered a while longer, sipping their drinks, talking about nothing important. For a moment, it almost felt normal again.
Eventually, Megumi stood, tucking the envelope into his jacket pocket. “I should head back. Need to get ready for my shift.”
Yuji frowned. “Wait, seriously? On your birthday? That’s horrible.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow. “Not everyone gets to lounge around, Yuji. Besides, it’s just work.”
Yuji leaned back with a pout. “Man, I’d riot if I had to spend my birthday like that. At least let me walk you there or something.”
“Fine,” Megumi said after a pause, adjusting his jacket. “But don’t complain when you’re bored out of your mind. It’s just waiting tables.”
“Bored? Me? No way,” Yuji grinned, hopping up to follow him.
The walk to the restaurant wasn’t long. It was a nice place—not high-class, but comfortable, with polished wooden floors and neatly set tables.
“Whoa, look at you. Fancy.”
“Shut up.” Megumi tugged at his apron, pretending not to care.
Yuji stayed off to the side as Megumi handled his first customer—a small family ordering drinks. He was smooth, professional, and surprisingly polite in a way Yuji wasn’t used to seeing. For a moment, Yuji almost forgot about the weirdness earlier. This was Megumi’s world, and he was good at it.
But then a voice from the back called, “Fushiguro! Boss wants a word.”
Megumi nodded, placing his notepad down. Before leaving, he pulled his wallet from his pocket and set it on the table next to Yuji. “Don’t touch my stuff,” he said flatly, then disappeared into the kitchen.
Yuji glanced at the wallet.
It was ordinary—worn leather, nothing flashy. But he couldn’t stop picturing the envelope from earlier, thick with cash. Couldn’t stop thinking about his own empty fridge, his overdue bills.
He rubbed the back of his neck, heart starting to thump. Just a little… no one would know. He wouldn’t even notice.
His hand twitched toward the wallet.
And then—
“Need some help with that?”
He froze. The voice—smooth, confident, impossibly commanding—made his stomach drop. Slowly, he turned his head.
There he was. Same man from the café. Black blazer, gold chain glinting under the restaurant lights, the same sharp, unsettling smile.
Yuji’s hand froze over the wallet. “N-no, I’m good,” he stammered, stepping back instinctively.
The man's eyes flicked to the wallet, then back to Yuji. “If you change your mind, kid… give me a call.” He reached into his pocket and casually tossed a small card toward Yuji. “Here. Keep it.”
Yuji hesitated but picked it up. “Uh… no thanks,” he said, though his fingers closed around it anyway. Something about the card felt heavy—not in weight, but in presence.
The man’s smile widened, just a fraction more menacing, then he turned and disappeared, slipping out of the restaurant like he’d never been there.
Yuji stared at the card in his hand, heart still hammering. He glanced down at the wallet and then back at the card, shaking his head.
“Not today,” he muttered under his breath, sliding the wallet a little farther away.
Megumi returned a few minutes later, finishing up with another table, unaware of the tension that had just gripped Yuji. Yuji tucked the card into his pocket, a strange mix of relief and curiosity swirling in his chest.
Yuji glanced at the clock. “I should… head out,” he said, shrugging on his jacket. “Thanks for letting me hang out a bit.”
Megumi nodded, busy clearing plates. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he muttered, not looking up.
“I won’t!” Yuji called over his shoulder, waving as he left.
By the time he reached his apartment, the day had started to fade into a soft, warm afternoon light. The landlord was leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed.
“You still owe rent,” he said bluntly.
Yuji forced a smile. “Can I get you next week? I—stuff came up.”
The landlord’s eyes narrowed, but he simply grunted. “Next week, then. Don’t make it later.”
Once inside his apartment, Yuji closed the door and sank onto the couch. His gaze fell on his pocket, where the card rested. He pulled it out.
R. Sukuna
His thumb traced the embossed letters as his mind wandered. The man, the café, the wallet… the temptation. It all swirled together in a confusing mix of fear and curiosity.
Maybe just a call…? Yuji muttered to himself. I just want to know what he meant…
After a few minutes of pacing, checking the card in his hand, he finally took a deep breath and dialed the number.
The phone rang once, twice… and then a calm, smooth voice answered.
“Who is this?”
Yuji swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the phone a little too tightly. “It… it’s Yuji. I—I got your card at the café… and at the restaurant today.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, long enough for Yuji’s heart to start racing. Then the voice, calm but sharp, spoke again.
“I see. Yuji…” The name rolled off the tongue with a strange kind of amusement. “So you decided to call.”
Yuji fidgeted. “Y-yeah. I just… wanted to know what you meant when you said ‘if I change my mind, call you.’”
The voice chuckled softly, like it was savoring the moment. “Ah… I thought you might. Very well. We can talk. But first, I need to know something: do you want help… or do you want to struggle on your own?”
Yuji’s throat went dry. Struggle… or help? The words echoed in his mind, making him wonder just how much this man really knew about him—and just how much he wanted to get involved.
He took a shaky breath, his fingers curling around the phone. “I… I need help. I need money… and, well… I don’t really have anywhere else to turn.”
There was a pause on the other end, then the smooth, amused voice returned. “I see. Very well, Yuji. I’m not going to ask about repayment… for now. That can be discussed later, if necessary.”
Yuji blinked, unsure whether to feel relieved or uneasy.
“Meet me at the café where we first saw each other,” Sukuna continued, his tone casual but carrying a weight that made Yuji straighten in his seat. “In 1 hour. Don’t be late.”
“Okay… I’ll be there,” Yuji said quickly, heart racing.
The line went silent for a moment, then clicked.
Yuji sank back on the couch, staring at the phone. What did I just get myself into? he thought, the card heavy in his hand. But despite the nagging unease, a small part of him felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this was the break he desperately needed.
Yuji arrived at the café, his stomach twisting in knots. He scanned the area, spotting Sukuna leaning casually against a sleek black car parked just outside. His presence was impossible to ignore—sharp suit, confident posture, that unsettling, knowing smile.
Yuji hesitated. “W-wait… we’re supposed to meet here,” he stammered.
Sukuna tilted his head, letting the faint sunlight glint off his rings. “Of course we are.” He gestured toward the car. “But I’m taking you out. Get in.”
Yuji’s mind raced. No way… I can’t just get into a stranger’s car. Especially him! “You… you can’t do this! You can’t just—invite me to get into your car!”
Sukuna’s smile didn’t waver. In fact, it widened ever so slightly. “Of course I can. I decide the terms here, Yuji. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Yuji’s feet felt glued to the pavement, but the intensity in Sukuna’s eyes made it clear: refusal wasn’t really an option. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Okay… just… get it over with. Maybe I can figure something out once I’m inside.
Slowly, hesitantly, Yuji stepped forward toward the car.
The car door shut with a heavy thunk. Yuji slid awkwardly into the plush leather seat, trying not to fidget. He had expected Sukuna to sit up front, maybe drive, maybe give him space—but no.
Sukuna slid in right beside him, the faint scent of expensive cologne filling the air. “Relax,” he said smoothly, resting a hand on Yuji’s thigh. His fingers pressed lightly, a slow, deliberate massage that made Yuji’s breath hitch.
“H-hey—” Yuji shifted uncomfortably, but Sukuna’s grip tightened just enough to silence him.
The car purred as the driver pulled them away from the café. Yuji’s nerves buzzed the entire ride until, finally, the car rolled to a stop in front of a towering building. Glass gleamed under the fading sun, reflecting the world like a mirror. It was the kind of place Yuji had only ever seen in magazines—where even a single glass of water probably cost more than his entire dinner budget.
“W-we’re going in there?” Yuji asked, wide-eyed.
Sukuna smirked, already stepping out. “Of course. Keep up.”
Yuji trailed after him nervously, tugging at his hoodie and sneakers. The moment they reached the entrance, a woman in a pristine uniform stepped forward.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said politely but firmly, eyes flicking toward Yuji. “Your companion… doesn’t meet our dress code.”
Yuji’s cheeks burned. He opened his mouth to apologize, to back away, but Sukuna didn’t even stop walking.
He simply turned his gaze on the woman. A lazy, sharp look.
Her entire posture shifted in an instant—eyes widening, her voice catching in her throat. Then, just as quickly, she smiled, bowing slightly. “Ah—my apologies. Right this way, please.”
Yuji blinked in disbelief, hurrying to follow Sukuna inside. What the hell was that…?
They were led to a table by the window, overlooking the glowing city skyline. The chair felt too soft beneath Yuji, like it didn’t belong to someone like him.
He picked up the menu, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Fifty bucks for soup? Eighty for pasta? Is that even legal?
He quickly shut it halfway, trying to act casual, though his stomach twisted at the thought of ordering anything here. He could feel Sukuna’s gaze on him, sharp and unreadable.
“So,” Sukuna said, leaning back comfortably, one arm draped over the back of his chair. “What do you want to eat?”
Yuji rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… honestly, I—I don’t even know how to pronounce half this stuff.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Maybe just water’s fine.”
Sukuna’s smile widened, but it wasn’t friendly. “Water? You think I brought you here for water?” He leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. “Order what you want. Price doesn’t matter.”
Yuji shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, flipping the menu open again. Everything looked incredible, but the numbers next to them made his chest tighten.
“Seriously, though,” he muttered. “One plate of this could cover, like, a week of groceries…”
Sukuna chuckled low, clearly entertained. “Exactly why you’re here with me, Yuji. Let me worry about the bill.”
The waiter arrived, pen poised and smile polite. Sukuna ordered a glass of red wine without even glancing at the menu. When the server’s eyes turned to Yuji, he froze.
“Uh… I’ll have the… chicken thing,” Yuji said awkwardly, pointing at the line on the menu because he couldn’t pronounce half the words. His ears burned when the waiter gave a faint nod of understanding and wrote it down.
When the food finally came, Yuji’s jaw nearly dropped. The plate in front of him looked more like art than a meal, every garnish placed perfectly, sauce drizzled like a painting. He stabbed a bite with his fork, tasting it—his eyes widening. Okay, fine. It’s amazing. Still not worth eighty bucks though.
Sukuna cut into his steak with slow precision, watching Yuji with something between amusement and interest.
“So, Yuji,” Sukuna said, voice smooth as the wine he swirled lazily in his glass. “Tell me about yourself.”
Yuji blinked. “Me? What’s there to tell?”
“Everything,” Sukuna replied simply. “Where you come from. What you want. What keeps you up at night.” His eyes gleamed. “Why you need money so badly that you’d think about stealing from your best friend.”
Yuji froze, fork halfway to his mouth. His stomach tightened at the memory. He hadn’t told Sukuna that. He couldn’t have known.
Sukuna smiled, leaning forward slightly. “So. Let’s start simple: what are you running from, Yuji?”
Yuji set his fork down, suddenly not so hungry anymore. He shifted in his seat, staring at the plate before him. “It’s not… like I wanted to steal,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to Sukuna. “I’ve just… had a few bad job interviews. No one’s calling me back. And my rent’s due next week.”
He let out a small, bitter laugh. “Feels like every day I’m just waiting for someone to tell me ‘no’ again.”
Sukuna swirled his wine slowly, the faint smirk on his lips never fading. “So you’re cornered.”
Yuji shrugged helplessly. “Yeah. Guess you could say that. And Megumi… he’s my best friend. The last thing I’d want is to screw things up with him. But when I saw that money—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “It just felt like I didn’t have a choice.”
Sukuna leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that made Yuji’s chest tighten. “There’s always a choice, Yuji. But not all choices are equal.”
Yuji glanced up, caught in Sukuna’s gaze. “What are you getting at?”
Sukuna’s smile deepened. “That maybe you’re looking for the wrong opportunities. If you want real change, you need to step outside the little box you’ve built for yourself. And I…” he gestured vaguely around the fancy restaurant, “I can show you how.”
* * *
Yuji blinked. “Wait—what does that even mean? Show me how? To do what?”
Sukuna just chuckled, sipping his wine like the question amused him. “You’re too impatient. I’ll explain more later… when I know you’re worth the explanation.”
Yuji frowned. “Huh? What’s that supposed to—”
“Tell me,” Sukuna cut him off smoothly, leaning one hand against the table. His gaze sharpened, pinning Yuji in place. “What about your family? You mentioned rent, but what about them? Parents? Anyone helping you?”
Yuji hesitated, his chest tightening. “…It’s just me now. My grandpa raised me, but… he passed away last year.” His voice softened at the edges, the memory still raw. “I’ve been on my own since then.”
Sukuna nodded slowly, as if weighing something. “And friends? Aside from that boy with the dark hair. The one you nearly robbed.”
Yuji winced at the reminder. “Megumi and Nobara are pretty much it. They’re… all I’ve got, really.”
For a long moment, Sukuna studied him in silence, his smile fading into something quieter—though no less unsettling. Then he leaned back, swirling his glass again. “Good. You’re simple. Easy to read.”
Yuji narrowed his eyes. “Simple? Hey—”
“Don’t get offended. Simplicity can be useful,” Sukuna said with a sly grin. “It just means you’re honest. Straightforward. And when people like you get desperate…” His gaze flicked to Yuji’s hands, then back up to his eyes. “They’re very easy to guide.”
Yuji’s heart skipped at the way he said it—like Sukuna already knew where this night was heading.
The last bite of food disappeared far too quickly, and moments later, the waitress returned with the bill. Yuji’s eyes nearly bulged at the number—his jaw practically dropped.
“Uh… I—I can’t even… that’s—” he stammered, feeling a wave of guilt and embarrassment.
Sukuna, unbothered, set down his glass. “Don’t worry about it. Consider it part of the… guidance I’m offering you.” His smirk was calm, almost teasing.
Yuji blinked, too flustered to respond.
Sukuna leaned back in his chair, gaze sliding toward him. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
Yuji’s mouth opened, then closed again. Before he could overthink it, he found himself blurting out his address. Wait… did I just say that out loud?
Sukuna simply nodded, standing and gesturing for him to follow. “Good. Keep it ready in your mind.”
Outside, the night air hit Yuji like a slap. They made their way back to the sleek black car, the city lights reflecting off its glossy surface.
Yuji slid into the seat with a mix of nerves and anticipation, and, just like before, Sukuna joined him— the hand on his thigh returned, fingers pressing and massaging slowly.
Yuji froze, staring straight ahead. “Y-You… can’t just—”
Sukuna’s calm voice cut through the tension. “I can, Yuji. I decide the terms.” His smirk was faint but undeniable. “Relax. You’ll get used to it… eventually.”
Yuji’s stomach twisted, caught between discomfort and the strange pull Sukuna seemed to have over him. He stared out the window, gripping the edge of the seat. What did I just get myself into?
The car pulled up outside Yuji’s apartment building. His stomach was still twisting from the drive—part nerves, part lingering unease. He opened the door and began to step out, but a firm hand gripped his wrist.
“Wait,” Sukuna said, his voice calm, almost casual. He held out a small, thick envelope. “This is for your rent.”
Yuji blinked, staring at it. He hadn’t expected this. With a nervous but grateful nod, he took it and instinctively bowed. “Th-thank you…”
Sukuna’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment, then he tilted his head slightly and extended his cheek toward Yuji, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t say a word—just pointed to it.
Yuji’s face flared red. What… am I supposed to do? His heart thumped loudly in his chest. Slowly, almost instinctively, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Sukuna’s cheek.
Sukuna didn’t move. He simply watched, eyes glinting, that unnerving mix of amusement and satisfaction in his smile.
Yuji pulled back quickly, cheeks burning hotter than ever. “I… I should—uh—go,” he stammered.
“Go,” Sukuna said lightly, still smirking, releasing his wrist. “But remember, Yuji… we’ll talk more soon.”
Yuji nodded, clutching the envelope tightly, and hurried inside, his mind spinning. What just happened? And why does it feel… like everything just got even more complicated?