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Chapter Text

"It’s a promise!"

“?”

“It means a vow between two people that cannot be broken by their life and honor.”

“I know what a promise is.”

“Then, will you make it with me?”

“There is no such thing as honor.”

“Just do it!”

“It’s foolish,” but still, he conceded.

They intertwined their pinky fingers as a sign of their bond.

“Good! Pinky promise: if I lie, I'll swallow a thousand needles and cut off my finger .”

“Satisfied?”

“Yes! We will be united, forever!”

...

...

...

...

“You still remember, right?”

Chapter Text

All you wanted was to die. 

But to your misfortune, you awoken Once more. Damned to rise.

The same thing, over and over. It was routine, cyclical, suffocating. The air was saturated with the stench of opium, tobacco, and incense, each breath burning your throat as if the environment conspired to choke you. The vibrant patterns of red, yellow, pink, and white seemed to mock your existence, repeated ad nauseam on the kimonos and walls. Moans and laughter echoed from other rooms, mixed with muffled laments. Everything blended into an cacophony that overwhelmed your senses. You hated it. You hated it to the core, to the exhaustion. In the 14 years of your miserable life here, you had not been able to get used to the hustle and bustle of the brothel. On the contrary, it seemed that with each passing day, your tolerance lessened.

Like a salmon swimming upstream, you refused to succumb to the plague of depravity, pleasure, and the favors you earned by pleasing the men who planted themselves in your quarters. But even the sturdiest salmon cannot swim against the river's current for long. Nor against the eager fishermen or wild animals, who seek to consume it.

The creaking of the wooden boards under soft steps and muffled laughter behind the sliding doors forced you to open your eyes.

"Do you think she is awake? I need a haircut..."

"Better tell her after eating. She'll be in a better mood."

This is a brothel

Depravity made flesh.

You got up with mechanical movements, bringing your hands to your face, frustrated til exhaustion, even by having to breathe.

The weight of being dragged by the flow of life and its obligations. Was so tiring…

You cleaned yourself and applied marks on your face to make yourself less appealing, an ritual practice that reminded you of what you were: a courtesan, not a person. A thing . You put on a sober kimono, tying your hair with a worn ribbon.

More than a concubine, you looked like a priestess.

Quite funny if you asked me, how could someone as pure as a priestess be in a place like this? This corruptible place.

But fortunately you weren't priestess, but a filthy slut, you didn't even have any respect for the gods. On the contrary, if they were there, you despised them, as much or more than this disgusting place.

You just have to endure.

"Are you okay?" A gentle pad touched your shoulder, you were startled by the sudden contact and it ended up pulling you out of your meditations as you walked down the corridor. When did you leave your room? To your pleasant surprise, it was only your friend, Ame.

"Yes, I just have a light headache, it's the smell."

"Does it? The scents still bother you? Maybe you're sensitive to it, for me it's almost imperceptible."

"Yes, I could say so."

Both arrived at the dining room shortly and sat next to each other.

Two young girls were distributing breakfast to the courtesans, always following a strict, unspoken hierarchical order.

First, the *tayū were served, followed by the sancha, then the umecha, the zashikimochi, and finally, the yūjo, the most inexperienced in the trade. What was left of the food was destined for the kamuro, mere apprentices of oiran.

In theory, I should occupy the last place in that chain, an outcast of this art... if it can be called art. A mere spectator. However, my presence disrupted that order. Served after the tayū, it was evident that the respect towards me broke the tacit rules. Some courtesans saw me as a daughter; others, as a mother, confidant, advisor, or even nurse. The titles varied, but my existence was appreciated enough to be treated with reverence. Of course, that respect was not something I earned upon arrival. It was not due to personal achievement either, but pure luck. It all began with the former reigning oiran, she had taken a liking to me for no reason. To this day, you still did not understand their motivations. She used to say it was because of my "free spirit." But what on earth does that even mean?. She adopted me as if I were her own blood and taught me everything better than anyone. She was like my second mother to me…

I miss her…

Despite being under her protection, it was common for me to get into trouble, usually because I had a tendency to stroll through the streets. 

"You should eat before it gets cold, today you will need the strength, if you want I can give you some of my food," said Suija. She was one of the new favorites in the brothel and for some reason she didn't like you. So you guessed that her sudden generosity was a mask with vile mockery underneath.

"Thank you Suija, but I must decline. However, I am more curious about your comment, may I ask what you mean?" You responded calmly. They really have the energy to start arguments so early in the morning.

Despite being loved, envy and rivalries exist everywhere, so in the brothel, where the lowest feelings and desires of human beings proliferate more easily, it was no surprise to you that jealousy existed among courtesans.

"Haven't you heard?" she said with a malicious smile. "Today you will attend someone important. If you are lucky, you may come out alive."

"I see. No, I didn't know. Thank you for notifying me" you continued eating at a slow pace, without the previous comment disturbing you.

Endure it.

"Is it true what you’re saying, Suija? Because if it’s not the case..." said Ame, with an angry look.

"It's the truth, I heard it directly from the owner."

Silence.

In this noisy place, silence reigned.

"Why do you assure that her life is in danger?" asked another concubine with curiosity.

You stay on the sidelines of the conversation, as if they were not talking about you. Maybe they are just rumors.

"Because the client is dangerous. They say he is an oni*" she whispered, leaning forward, as if fearing someone else might hear. "A demon that speaks like mens, who enjoys pain and misery, and prey on the flesh of those he kills."

The others listened in silence, they looked at one another uneasy. The noise of the brothel seemed to have vanished, leaving only a heavy silence that filled the room. You could slightly hear murmurs from some courtesans. 

"Ah, you start with your stories again," one intervened, crossing her arms. "You’ve always enjoyed sowing chaos, right, Suija?" 

"Yes, you have always been insinuating, Suija," said another. 

Suija smiled disdainfully. "I only tell the truth. If it scares you, maybe you shouldn't have asked." She excused herself. So.. she creates a disturbance and now wants to wash her hands off of it.

You continued eating, sometimes the gossiping was very exaggerated regarding your clients. Sometimes their were eccentric, but it is the first time they describe one as a former demon, that’s new.

You finished your meal.

"It was an interesting breakfast, but I must leave."

You picked up your dishes and took them to the kitchen. Always washing and drying them, if you could avoid the burden on the girls and other servants, you would. You knew how hard it was to carry all the dishes, wash and dry them. That your hands hurt from scrubbing so much, so if you could alleviate their pain a little bit.

If only you could be useful.

A knife was near the sink, you couldn't suppress the impulse, took it in your hands, imagining the blade sliding smoothly over your skin.

That... would be fine.

"Are you afraid?" you heard a soft voice speak behind you.

You lowered the knife.

"Ame. Are you still thinking about that rumor from before?"

"I’m worried about you. What she says... is not a rumor. It's something I've heard."

"Heard?" You said as you stopped and turned your face over your shoulder to see Ame.

"Personally."

That means a Samurai had confessed it to her. So it is very likely that it is veracious information.

"I see." You continued with your task, now drying the dishes.

"You don't have to pretend to be strong. Not with me."

"I'm not pretending. I haven't been formally told anything yet. So it's as if nothing had happened."

You felt a slight pressure on your back. Ame hugged you, her head resting on your shoulder and her hands on your belly, despite all the layers of her clothing. You could feel her warmth.

She knew you so well. It was like a glimpse of light in a dark tunnel.

"What Suija says is true. Please, pretend to be gravely ill so you don't have to attend to him."

As if that embrace had dictated your sentence, within moments, you were summoned to the main office.

Now Ame didn't want to let you go. She went to the extent of accompanying you to the main office and insisted on being present at the meeting.

"I am present," you announced your arrival.

Endure it.

"I remember calling only one of you," said your owner. The owner of everyone and everything. Something you actively hated, but paradoxically you didn't really hate him as an individual. Compared to other owners of brothels, was known for being of calm character and slow to anger. He was a businessman through and through, so you could reason with him as long as what you asked for was reasonable, or at least you felt that way about yourself. You couldn't speak the same for others. But you had no complaints, your relationship was always cordial.

"My lord, I am aware of my intrusion. And I ask for your forgiveness, but despite that, I still have to make my request known to you. I ask you, please, allow me to attend this meeting" Ame lowered her head to the ground in submission.

He raised one of his eyebrows and then looked in my direction, wanting to know if there was any sign of opposition to her request. You appreciated that cordiality on his part, considering your feelings. With a nod, you indicated that you agreed with her presence here.

"Very well. You may stay."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Fine, I will speak without beating around the bush." His voice sounded rough. "You will attend to a very particular client tonight. If he likes you, he might buy you. So try to be pleasant to him. He has a changing temperament and is aggressive according to rumors, so do not anger him under any circumstances."

"Please, allow me to attend to him," said Ame, interrupting his instructions.

"I allowed you to be at the meeting but do not overstep my generosity."

"Please, my lord. Allow me to take on this burden" she pressed the issue.

"And you insist."

Quickly, the atmosphere became tense.

"I can handle angry men. I will provide the best service, but please, I ask you to let me take this client."

"No," he replied sharply. "As I was saying," now addressing you. "You know how to deal with peculiar clients."

With that, he referred to the fact that you had taken on clients that other courtesans were horrified to attend to, of course never by your own will. The list extends among: the disabled, amputees, foreigners, degenerates who love degradation or submission, among others.

"So," he continued speaking, Ame was on the verge of tears. "I know I don't have to worry about that aspect. You will be able to handle it, but I have heard the rumors and I cannot turn a deaf ear. I have heard that he is a cruel and ruthless man. I do not want one of my courtesans to die. But if I reject his request, we could all die here. So..."

"I understand." I was a sacrifice.

"I'm glad you understand. Try to please him and serve him as if he were the Emperor himself. If you do your job well, we will live to see another day."

"So shall it be. What is his name?"

"Ryomen Sukuna. That's what they call him."

"Very well, my lord."

"Good girl, you may leave now."

Both left and headed to your quarters in silence. As if it were a funeral procession, Ame cried silently, while holding your hand tightly.

"I HATE HIM."

"Silence," you urged Ame.

"You don't know what you're facing," she replied.

"Facing? It's just a client, I'm not going to war."

"NO. You don't understand. He's a demon," she took you by the shoulders and looked at your face, her eyes were teary, and then she hugged you. "He will kill you and eat your guts. That monster ravaged villages, fiefdoms, and killed many priests. He is the calamity walking on land."

Well... That doesn't sound very encouraging, to say the least.

"Do you want to scare me or encourage me?"

"I want to warn you," she took her face off your shoulder, her perfect makeup smudged. "I was told he was a beast in human skin. Even the strongest men tremble at the mention of his name." Her eyes looked cloudy and her voice was hoarse. "And—I don't know what I will do if I lose you."

You spent about an hour trying to ground your friend. It was like a vicious cycle, she got angry, reproached, then cried, all without letting you go. Reluctantly, she moved away from you to let you be escorted to the baths, but she didn't allow anyone else to prepare you for the night.

During that day, you didn't leave your quarters.

A few moments before dusk, several courtesans came to visit you as a sign of goodwill and "pay their respects," but in essence, it was as if they were offering their condolences while you were still alive.

By sunset, you were ready.

"It's time," the girls who would escort you mentioned.

"Very well," you straightened up gracefully to leave your room. "How do I look?" You asked your friend with a soft smile.

"Beautiful," Ame hugged you with overwhelming strength. You reciprocated the affection, but what she said afterward in a whisper almost made you break down right there.

"I love you. My love for you it’s as a sister who loves another. You are part of me. Please, I just ask you to come back alive."

Endure it.

"It's time to go," the young Ladies pressed.

"Goodbye, girls. Goodbye, Ame, I'll see you later."

You heard your friend fall to the floor and scream heart-wrenchingly.

The air was filled with a sweet aroma of incense, mixed with the persistent bitterness of tobacco and the dampness of aged wood. Lamps hung low, casting long shadows that danced on the red-painted walls. Your multicolored kimono glowed under the dim light they projected, but it was heavy and clung uncomfortably to your waist, you couldn't breathe properly.

You noticed that they were escorting you to the most remote area of the main building, probably to give time to evacuate in case things went wrong. Before entering the room where you would attend to such an infamous client, you heard some words.

"You know?"

You lifted your gaze; it was the brothel owner. You remembered that the first time you met, he told you his name. But you weren't interested in learning the name of someone you had no intention of seeing again.

"My lord?"

"You were always my favorite."

" ... "

"If it makes a difference, I didn't want you to be the one to receive him. But he insisted it had to be you… I just hope he spares your life."

"..."

"If he does, you will no longer deal with clients. And if not... Well, I will give you a dignified burial.* Like that of a father who lost his daughter."

"Thank you. My lord, it is more than I could ask for." Without further ado, they left you alone in a spacious room, with drinks and incense perfuming, filling the air. From where you were, you could see the adjoining room: a dimly lit room, with a large futon that seemed to patiently await its role in this cruel funeral ceremony. The incense smoke irritated your eyes. Or maybe they were repressed tears, but in either case, you wouldn't let them fall. And they left you there.

Waiting.

Waiting..

Waiting…

But you couldn't bear it any longer.

Bastards.

You clenched your jaw tightly, and your knuckles turned white. You felt pure rage.

Instead of trying to help me out of this situation.

THEY TRY TO CLEANSE THEIR GUILT BY GIVING ME CONDOLENCES IN LIFE.

Giving condolences in fucking life.

How absurd and morbid.

And then this. Am I a joke to everyone here?

You dared to say, "Like a daughter."

What father gives his daughter to a deranged lunatic, a murderer? No father would do that.

I am no different from an animal. An animal raised and domesticated, taken by its owner to the slaughterhouse. Awaiting its end. And its flesh being consumed.

You heard the creaking of the wooden boards. It was him. Each step echoed like thunder, approaching slowly. You felt the vibration in the floor beneath your knees, as the air grew denser.

Remember his words.

If you do it well, you will have any man at your feet.

If you do it well, you will no longer receive clients.

If you do it well.

If you do it well.

If not... you will die today.

You wanted to die, you really did.

You hated the life you had been given.

"I want to die." Why am I trembling? ...

But if it is my destiny to die here, then. I demand to do it on my terms.

If life took everything away from me, everything I loved. Then so be it. But  I will reclaim myself in my death. That's my right.

I hid in my hair a hairpin that Ame gave me a long time ago. Religiously, I sharpened it, praying that one day I would have the courage to end this torture. There wasn't a day you didn't do it. It was me little ritual. With how sharp it was, if I stabbed it into my heart, I would surely die. The door burst open. Your heart skipped a beat. You placed your hands in front of you in a triangle shape and rested your forehead on them in a bow.

"I will serve you tonight, my lord. I hope to be to your liking."

Silence.

No response?

You heard the sliding door close, then a vibration on the floor.

He's approaching.

In front of you, i felt his gaze piercing me down, scrutinizing my body, then i heard a dull noise. Did he sit down?

Silence…

…

Well…

He's not talkative.

Should I say it again? Did he not hear me?

"You are educated at least. I like that. Lift your head."

Pretentious and egocentric prick.

You lifted your head slowly, and to your surprise, you didn't see his face. You saw his chest, marked and muscular.

You raised your face, extending your neck. And there you saw him.

It made sense, all the commotion earlier. His presence was suffocating and terrifying. He commanded fear and respect. You saw his eyes. They were the same red eyes as the sunset. Like ripe fruit. Like blood. Crimson eyes.

His face. It was something you could never forget. Despite the loss of childhood features and the marks on his skin, you knew it was him.

"Friend?"

That man turned one of his eyes to see you.

He had an air of superiority and arrogance.

"I know you," you said again. "I know you!," your hands were covered in cold sweat.

"Is that so?" he gave you a half-smile.

"It's you!. I can't be mistaken."

The multicolored layered dress prevented you from moving freely. You stood up awkwardly to approach the man in front of you. You had to touch him to be sure.

You had to confirm that it wasn't a dream, that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you being so close to your death.

Without warning, you fell to the ground, slipping on the kimono fabric and falling in front of him.

You heard a loud laugh, and then he addressed you.

"I see you haven't changed at all, no matter what clothes you wear. You're still just as clumsy."

You stood up and ignored the comment. You wanted to hug him, cry to him, beg him, tell him you didn't intend to abandon him, that you missed him, that he should take you out of this hell, until you saw the marks on his face. Tattoos. You stopped in your tracks.

"What is that on your face?" you asked while looking at him intently.

"What is? What?"

"Those marks* Who did it? I'll kill them!"

You wanted to touch his face, but one of his hands grabbed your wrist.

"I was wrong, something has changed." He brought your hand to his face and inhaled your essence. "Your voice... is less irritating now," and he kissed the back of your hand.

"!"

Another of his hands cupped your face and gently traced your features, it tickling you. I feel the roughness in his palms; he had calluses, surely from continuing to wielding the bow. With his thumb, he caressed your cheeks, making strokes on your skin and accidentally removing the makeup that Ame placed. 

He saw his hand now white.

"What do you have on your face? It's creamy."

"Makeup."

He slowly ran his thumb over your lips, then looked back at his hand to see the lipstick residue. That unsettled you a bit; you didn't expect him to touch your lips so freely.

"Makeup... Why do you use this?"

"To look beautiful, for... the clients." In front of your childhood friend, you felt exposed. Dirty. Marked. You felt disgusting under his gaze, wanting to cover your face and cry bitterly. Now you were nothing more than a prostitute, and he was a client you had to satisfy. That's what it had come to.

"Do you put that on for men?" he asked directly.

He was always direct. You didn't want to answer him. As happy as you were, you also felt ashamed of your current state.

Im pathetic.

You heard an empty laugh from him. That hurt even more.

"You couldn't have chosen this." He reproached you.

"No. I didn't choose it. It was imposed on me," you clenched your hands. You had to change the subject; you didn't want to go through a worse humiliation.

You didn't want to taint your reunion with negative emotions.

"I've been told that you now go by a rather particular name. Why is that?"

"I don't go by that name; that's how many baptized me. And the name proliferated. Until everyone refers to me with the title of 'Ryomen Sukuna,' so I suppose that's the explanation."

"Does it bother you if I call you that? You never told me your name, unless you want me to—"

"I really don't care." He interrupted you while you spoke, still as rough as ever.

"Very well. I suppose we have a lot to catch up on, don't you think?"

For a long time, you talked a lot. Well, you talked more than him. It was always like this, you always talked more than him.

You asked him so many things, and most of your questions were not answered, almost none, in fact. He always said it wasn't the place to answer you or directly didn't answer.

In comparison, he asked specific questions, which you answered all without omitting any details.

"You look sleepy."

Sukuna interrupted you while you were talking. He wasn't wrong; you felt tired and drowsy, but you forced yourself to stay awake until he mentioned wanting to move to the adjoining room. You couldn't appear tired in front of clients, and as much as he was your childhood friend, he was a client you had to attend to. It was your duty at the end of the day.

"Why do you say that?"

"When you're sleepy, you start saying nonsense."

"You're lying."

"No. I'm not." He stood up, his height really surprised you. He was much taller than any man you had seen, even taller than an Oiran during her emblematic walk. He had grown a lot, not only in height but also in musculature. He looked as sturdy as an ancient oak tree. You had to extend your neck to see his face. Before you could say a word, Sukuna placed his lower arms around your waist and lifted you until you were at his eye level.

"Tiny one."

"I'm not tiny, you're ridiculously huge!" You moved your feet in the air, losing contact with the ground. Maybe it was because of the long time of separation, but you felt that Sukuna was really taking certain liberties with you. He didn't like being touched much before, but now it seemed he was looking for some way to maintain physical contact. Maybe you were just imagining things.

"Your mind is elsewhere when you're in front of me, that’s rude" Sukuna noticed. You mentally reprimanded yourself for thinking about other things while talking to a client. You were a terrible oiran.  "Where is the bedroom?"

"In front of you, there's a sliding door, it's there."

Sukuna carried you over his shoulder and slid the door open carelessly.

"Are these... your quarters?" he said as he took a step inside and looked around the place with disdain. What's wrong with this place? It was much better than your room. That's for sure even had a window...

"No. My room is half this size."

"It must be small. Just like you."

"We're all small in comparison."

He lowered you and gently placed your feet on the ground but didn't release his grip on your waist. You felt a bit nervous about the sudden silence and the intimacy that had formed between the two of you.

One of his hands began to gently touch the hem of the fabric around your neck. You had been in these situations before; you shouldn't get nervous just because of a few touches, here and there. But you were. Everything was very strange. You were aware that he was no longer a child but a man. Sturdy and intimidating, with his impulses and desires.

But despite everything, he was still your childhood friend, from when you were still free from all this.

...

Putting that aside.

If in the past, you had to have sex with strangers out of mere obligation, tonight you would indulge in making love with your closest friend.

"Take that off," Sukuna said in a low tone.

You were always surprised by how direct he was; apparently, that hadn't changed in your absence.

Slowly, you began to remove the layers of your multicolored kimono, folding the layers you were taking off your body tortuously slowly. Throughout this process, Sukuna didn't take his eyes off every movement you made.

Some clients liked to watch you undress, so it was very likely that he had that particular taste. You were untying the obi of your inner kimono and lowering the fabric over your right shoulder, almost exposing one of your breasts when his upper right arm took your wrist and pulled it away from your kimono.

Apparently, he just wanted you to do the heavy lifting of taking off all those layers so he could undress you himself. How cruel.

But to your surprise, Sukuna pulled up the sleeve of your kimono and retied the obi.

"You're not planning to sleep naked while I'm here, are you? Unless that's what you want? Naughty" he smiled mischievously.

"You told me to take off my clothes!" You felt the blood rush to your cheeks; you were embarrassed. Damn it, you even had it in mind!

"I told you to take that off, not to undress. Different things"

Well, that's a relief. At least he doesn't want to have sex, which means he might just want to talk. Well, I don't blame him either. It's a strange situation for him. I mean, he's in an unusual situation, coming to let out steam, have a good time with a young and pretty girl, and finding out that it's your childhood friend you haven't seen in 14 years.

Heavy shit.

Yes... this whole situation is a bit strange, I don't blame him. Poor guy must feel a bit disappointed that he didn’t get to do anything tonight. But if you have to be honest with yourself and at the same time selfish, you were really grateful for this reunion. You were so nervous, you almost crapped yourself with all that talk of a ruthless and neurotic killer.

Why would they say those things? I understand that people see him as a monster because... well, he looks the way he does. But he’s... well, Sukuna. He's not like that. He may be a bit rough around the edges, but it's not to the point of being treated like a demon!. People could be very harsh and prejudiced.

On the other hand… you smiled to yourself, all the scenarios you imagined, you never thought they would come true.

You had the habit of letting your mind wander and always found yourself with the same question: what would you do if you could reunite with Sukuna? It was your most recurring hypothetical situation.

You thought of so many things, you even rehearsed what you would say, but that didn't help much for the real encounter. 

Fate has very strange ways of working.

Without saying another word, Sukuna lay on his stomach, his upper arms resting beneath his face while his lower arms were extended at his sides. With a movement of his lower hand, he began to tap the futon, as if to tell you to lie down next to him.

And so you did, lying your body just enough not to bother him. Sukuna turned to look at you, he seemed irritated for some reason.

"What?" you replied in response to his rough look.

"Nothing."

"Fine. Good night."

Silence.

Your eyelids began to feel heavy, the fatigue and hustle of the day had taken over your body. You felt weak from not eating well during the day.

You didn't want to resist sleep.

You closed your eyes, but before losing consciousness, you felt it. You felt someone wrapping your body, like a hug.

You slept with a smile plastered on your face.

Chapter Text

a principle.

a dogma.

Freedom can be tarnished, restricted, limited, but never. Never. Can it be taken away from the individual; it is something inherent to human beings.

“I found these.”

“I told you to stay away from me. Don’t you get it? Are you fucking stupid?”

“No, but you are rude. Meanie!”

“I’ve told you this so many times I’M CURSED!. I told you to stay . away . from . me. That I want to be alone, and you don’t seem to understand it, so to me it’s only logical to think you are that stupid.”

“So, If I am stupid. You are the king of dummies! You say you want to be alone, but you keep spending time with me. You like it!”

“Shut up.”

A dream? No. A memory? Maybe. It seems to be.

“Stop moving and squirming so much, you’re not letting me sleep,” Sukuna’s voice rumbled, his breath warm against your ear. The scent of burnt cedar clung to him. It dragged you back to the past, to when his hands were smaller, his laughter less jagged. “Sleep a little longer. Dawn hasn’t broken up yet.”

And that’s what you did, you decided to surrender to his words and let yourself be carried away by the warmth of his embrace.But you couldn’t enjoy it enough. The rays of sunlight slipped through the window and hit your face mercilessly, forcing you to get up from your comfortable cot. To realize you were alone.

“A dream? No. I'm certain I was with him yesterday.”

You don't hear the birds sing,What time was it?

There was silence.

Silence.

There was never silence in here. That’s why you could never sleep well.

You quickly and sloppily put on your sandals and left the room.

Empty.

No trace of Sukuna.

You headed out into the hallway.

There wasn't a single soul.

And the silence reigns…

It wasn’t normal…, maybe it was because you were at the back of the building.

Yes, that must be it.

I put my sandals on backwards, ugh. Wait, getting back to the topic, what time is it?

You went back to the room and tried to peek through the bars of the window, the shadows cast by the sun indicated it was already noon.

Noon already?? Did i oversleep or fucking die?

Something wasn’t right. Despite trying to calm your anxiety, a feeling of oppression remained in your chest. You bit your fingernails repeatedly, turning the situation over in your mind.

You couldn't hold back any longer; the silence squeezed your skull. You knew the right thing to do was to wait. To wait for them to come for you or for the client to return, but the silence, you just couldn't bear it, it tormented you so you ran to the center of the building. Still nothing, no noise.

The silence wasn’t empty—it was suffocating. No clatter of geta sandals, no muffled giggles behind paper screens. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. You’d grown used to the brothel’s cacophony; this stillness felt like a tomb.

A crushing feeling of unease overcame you. Never in all the years of being in this place, there had been silence. 

Not. a. single. day.

“Ame…”

You ran over to her room.The route seemed longer than usual.

You entered, slamming the door. To your relief and peace of mind, there she was. Brushing her hair in silence. She turned around by the sudden noise.

Poor thing, Ame was a mess. Her eyes were swollen and red, her nails were bitten, and her fingers were slightly bleeding. She must have stayed up all night drowning in anxiety. You let yourself fall to the ground out of relief and exhaustion.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming…” it seemed she was about to break into tears again “Talk to me, please.” she say in a hush “Talk to me, this way i will be sure that I'm not losing my mind,”

“Ame, I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about. I’m here.”

You approached and sat in front of her, thin and soft hands went to your face, tracing each of your features. Her hands were cold, and she looked pale. Ame’s fingers trembled as they traced your face. “They said he’d skin you alive. That he’d swallow your soul. But here you are… whole.” Her voice cracked. “You’re really alive.”

“Of course, I told you I’d see you later, didn’t I?”

“You did say it,” she took your hands and intertwined them. “You really did say it.You came back to me”

“Uhm…Why is everything so silent? Not a single soul can be heard. It’s rare that there’s no noise. It's kinda spooky.”

“The monster asked for it. He said if anyone made the slightest noise, he would kill them.”

“You mean…”

“Ryomen Sukuna.”

Wow, what a reputation he has.

“Ah. Sure. I think, he didn’t mean it seriously, he’s kind of—”

“He meant it.” She interrupted as you spoke “and don’t speak so loudly, he could hear us…” Ame said in whispers and began to examine your face and body thoroughly. “Did he do anything to you? Do you have any injuries?”

“My lady,” before you could utter a word, you heard childish voices addressing you, they were the girls who served the Oirans.

“My lady? The fuck?  “Who are you referring to, Girl? ” You replied.

“To you. Miss. They are calling you, please come with us.”

What do you mean “my lady” Sukuna had turned this place upside down in just a few hours in here.

It was terrifying what power could do.

You got up, but something pulled you down forcefully, it was Ame who had taken your arm.

“I will go! You should not be with that monster alone again. I failed you once, I can’t fail you twice.”

“Don’t say that, you haven’t failed anyone. This may surprise you, but he is not as bad as he seems! He just looks intimidating. But if you want, you can come along.”

“We’ll talk about this later…”

You knew Sukuna seemed intimidating, but…

Well, to be honest, if Sukuna wasn’t your friend, you’d try to stay unnoticed, to look minuscule in front of him so as not to draw his attention. But you knew he wasn’t like they portrayed him! People are just prejudging him!

…

Was he really like that?...

You didn’t know what he was capable of, much less how he is now, you had changed over the years, it was logical that he would change too…

But, it’s a bit exaggerated to say he destroyed armies, exorcists, and feudal lords, it seemed very fanciful that they described that man to you as a whirlwind of chaos and destruction. When the night before he peacefully slept by your side.

On your way to the office, you tried to fix your kimono and hair. The day was pretty warm.

Sweat seeped through the fabric of your kimono, feeling moist and sticky.

Your head was spinning and your throat was dry, you felt weak. You just wanted to finish the conversation and try to eat something light and take a bath.

The girls were not heading to the office, but to a conference room where the most prominent guests were attended. It seemed that you had been summoned for a meeting with a client.It was likely that Sukuna was there.

Both announced their arrival and entered the room.

You were not wrong in your assumption, your owner and Sukuna were facing each other, it was a strange sight to say the least. Sukuna seemed bored as his fingers rhythmically tapped the wooden floor. Now he had a completely different vision from the previous night, he was completely covered, you noticed that the color of his inner kimono was navy blue, the outer layer was white, in your eyes, the color suited him well, he looked handsome, his posture was languid and informal.

Compared to yesterday when he only wore a loose white kimono, now he looked much more put together.

When you saw your owner you noticed that he was nervous and anxious, his posture was rigid and compact. He seemed afraid to move an inch. You had never seen him that way. Poor man.

At first glance, it seemed as if Sukuna was the owner of the place and your former owner was a client caught stealing.

“You summoned me, My Lord.”

A dry sound, almost a growl, escaped from Sukuna: “Tch.” You couldn't help but glance at him. His jaw was tense, and his fingers were drumming forcefully against the floor. The atmosphere grew heavier with each second that passed under his furious gaze.

Definitely, I don't judge the owner's attitude. Having Sukuna in a bad mood is terrifying. It gives me goosebumps all over.

“Ha ha! I told you not to call me that...” said the man grinning nervously.

“?” What was this man talking about? He had never said that before. That's for sure.

“Why is that woman doing here?” Sukuna pointed arrogantly at your friend, his tone dismissive. “I believe I stand quite clear, my wishes were to meet only with the courtesan who attended me yesterday. And very clear that this was not a negotiation, should I make it clearer?”

The owner began to apologize profusely and bowed several times towards Sukuna. “I will remove her immediately.” Ame, upon hearing that, linked her arm with yours in protest. She was not going to allow herself to be removed peacefully. Her posture was rigid, but having contact with her, you could tell she was trembling.

You had to intervene.

“Forgive me for my audacity,” you lowered your head in respect, “I know it's not my place to talk but, Lord Sukuna, she is a friend of mine. Please, I kindly ask you to extend your grace and let her stay at this reunion. Take her lack of manners as my own fault”

You only heard a sigh from him.

So without letting him say anything else, you decided to take the reins of the situation in your own hands.

“Thank you for your generosity, My grand Lord.” I gave Ame a reassuring look, she looked petrified, but her grip softened, I couldn't help but notice that she was slowly drawing closer to me.

“In my opinion, I think it's good that she stays, we need a witness anyway. Hmm So..— moving on, I called you personally to congratulate you. Our client, the almighty King of curses, is delighted with the services you provided him last night and has presented me with a proposal that is impossible to ignore… he is willing going to buy you.”

Your eyes sparkled like stars. You sought Sukuna with your gaze, to your surprise you realized that he had already fixed his gaze on you. More like piercing on you.

“Is that so?” you responded softly and coyed.

This is a dream, isn't it? But, why does Ame look like that?. She looks horrified.

“To begin the buying process, we need to know if you are—”*

“Yes. I agree.”

Ame shot you a furtive glance and squeezed your arm tightly, apparently she was not at all pleased with the situation. Nor with your response.

“Perfect! We can move on to the next phase, My Great Lord, let me tell you that I will promptly write the sales contract and call the doctor for her examination...”*

“You have 3 days.”

“But... my lord, 3 days is—”*

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he said in an authoritative tone. “You have 3 days. Not one more. Now both of you leave, I want to speak alone with my concubine.”

Your owner, or rather, ex-owner, gave a deep bow and before Ame protested, he swiftly hooked on Ame's right arm to quickly get her out of the room. In the background, you could hear them arguing heatedly.

“You look like a mess,” Sukuna said as he got up from his place and slowly approached you.

“I got up and ran all the way here.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow.

“Running? Did someone wake you up?”

“N—No. The sun woke me up, I realized there was no noise and that surprised me, and I thought something was wrong.”

“Why?”

“It's never quiet here! So I thought someone had died or something like that.”

“That would have happened if someone had made noise, it's a pity. For being like animals, they understood my words very well.”

“Uhm…Of course they would listen, your joke was very harsh.”

“I was seri—”

“Anyways, changing the subject. You left me alone! Rude!” You cut him off at that moment, you didn't want to continue where that conversation was leading on.

“Yes, you wouldn't stop moving around, you were a pain in the ass, didn't let me sleep at all.”

“OH.” you scoff “Of course not!. I sleep like a princess.”

“Princess? My ass.” he said in a mischievous and mocking tone.

You began to move uncomfortably and nervously in your place, playing with your fingers and feeling a whirlwind of emotions inside you, but the most prominent one was hope . You felt hope, you could access freedom again.

That freedom had been restricted and tarnished years ago, and now you finally had a real chance to take it back into your own hands.

“Sukuna... I. Ugh i suck with this. But thank you for what you are doing for me and at the same time I regret it. I deeply regret it,” you put your forehead to the floor, if you could lower your head even more, you would. “I— I am terrible. I wish, … i could be a good friend and tell you that you shouldn't spend the money that you have worked so hard for on someone as worthless, dirty, twisted, loathed and disgusting as my current self. But I can't, I am shameless, I can't help but feel grateful,” your tears began to flow, you couldn't stop them.They felt warm. “You shouldn't waste your money on something like me. But— HOWEVER. I CAN'T!” You clenched your fingers into your palms, your nails digging so hard into your skin that they bled a little bit. “You make me so happy. I will repay you, everything. Even if it costs me my life to do so. I will repay you.”

“Look at me.”

You didn't want to get up, you must look horrible right now. You always looked ugly when you cried, and you didn't have the face to see him.

“Please, let me repay you, just let me—” Sukuna grabbed you firmly by the shoulders and forced you to look at him.

“I said, look.at.me.”

It was hard to breathe because of the mucus, and your eyes were full of tears, your hair was disheveled, and your clothes were out of place and damp. You were a complete mess.

When making eye contact with him, you couldn't contain what you had hidden deep in your heart, so the only thing you could do was cry, you cried even more, you cried bitterly, your voice cracked, and you began to tremble, you were just like a little girl crying inconsolably. You wanted to cover your face with your hands, but Sukuna's grip moved from your shoulders to your hands, raising them above your head, so you couldn't hide from him. Sukuna maintained his grip and looked at you intently.

“I— I! I didn't mean what I said! You are not a fool! I— I do like you! I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE YOU. But...” your voice broke, you couldn't speak well, and it was hard to breathe. “They were stronger, I'm sorry for being weak...”

“I don't care.” He simply said “right or wrong, that meant nothing to me, so” He released your arms. “Leave the past in the past, where it belongs, that's something that no longer matters.”

Weird..why my pinky finger twinges.

“I had to... I wanted to tell you. For a long time.”

You were breaking down in front of him. Your head hurt, your eyes burned, and you felt like you were trembling, it was as if you couldn't control yourself.

He squeezed your nose “You haven't eaten, have you?”

“—?” The comment seemed so out of place that it made you stop crying and brought you back to reality. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You get irritable when you don't eat.”

“...wha-?”

“Why are you giving me that look? I know I'm right.”

Your stomach betrayed you at that moment, growling. You hadn't eaten much since the day before, soo… it was possible that you were more irritable than usual, but THIS WAS NOT BECAUSE OF THAT!

“See. Told you”

“Idiot...” you muttered disdainfully, even though he had a bit of a point, but that was not the way to handle the situation.

Sukuna stood up and ran his hands through his hair, combing it back harshly, he looked frustrated and irritated, wrinkled his nose, and looked towards the door. He opened it forcefully, and it made a loud noise. The door slammed, rattling the walls. That caught the attention of the owner, who was still arguing with Ame a few meters from the room.

He spoke loudly, as if a commander giving orders to an army.

“Bring food and drinks. Don't take long, I've exhausted my patience for today.”

As he turned his back and walked towards the door frame, you couldn't help but examine his body, noticing details you couldn't appreciate well the day before due to the dim lighting of the room.

If you thought he was big yesterday, now he seemed immense, almost massive. His back was gigantic. Despite being covered by fabric, you could tell. He was very defined. Everything was pure muscle. You looked up; his tattoos coiled like serpents, their ink spilling onto his nape.

His hair*. Why didn't I notice before? He has a... particular style. Well, be for real. He looks like a delinquent or an exile.

Why is his hair so short?

Well, being a man who trains a lot, it's logical that he wouldn't want long hair... but why not shave it then? It would be more logical. But why does he want to look that way?

He doesn't look bad…But he looks like a delinquent, and the tattoos only aggravate his situation. He doesn't have the best character either.

Thinking about it...

It's normal for people to fear him, this man screams, “If you make me angry, I'll kill you.”

I mean... yes.

A loud noise startled me and brought me out of my thoughts, he had slammed the door... again. He really had a bad temper or just hated doors.

“And you. Be careful with that pretty little mouth of yours. I heard you loud and clear.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you replied sarcastically. As if making him lose his temper was a sport, you'd be number one since childhood.

“You are the reason.”

“No idea what you're talking about, I slept very well.”

“I don't think you understand what I meant.”

“I see—”

Both of you heard delicate footsteps echoing on the wood, and several courtesans entered elegantly, carrying the food Sukuna had requested. Among the dishes, finely cut tofu pieces, various vegetables and roots, a plate full of rice, and as the main dish, a quail.

How had they managed to get all this in such a short time?

As soon as the food was served, the courtesans gave a silent bow and quickly left.

“All of this is...” amazed by all the food, it was a lot!. It had been a long time since you had tasted meat, and your rations were much smaller.* The quail glistened, its skin crisp and golden. Meat—a luxury indeed!

“Disappointing.” Sukuna responded with a sigh. “They are making a fool out of me?”

“What do you mean?! This is a lot…”

“What? A small bird and a mountain of rice. Don't make me laugh.”

“It is!. At least more than what courtesans eat here, but I can share, do you want some?”

“…No. Eat, you're thin as a dry twig .”

“But are you sure? I really don't mind sharing—”

“Eat.”

How rude! He had interrupted you while you were still speaking. But well, if he says you can eat this, so you won't waste the opportunity.

“if you insist, all to me!”

The quail meat was juicy and tender, the vegetables were fresh, the taste of the bean and soybean sprouts were crispy, and the rice felt fluffy. It was a delicious meal, moments like these… made life feel a bit more worth living.

Sukuna simply lay on his side on the wooden floor, resting his head on his left arm, and watched you in silence as you ate.

You were used to eating in front of several people, but it was very rare for someone to focus all their attention on you. Examining your movements. So, you were meticulous and slow as you ate.

You had finished the quail and half of the rice when you mentioned that you were full.

Sukuna raised one of his eyebrows in response.

“Is that all you're only going to eat?”

“Yes, and it was really delicious,” you placed your chopsticks parallel to the plate and cleaned your face.

“It's like you haven't eaten anything with that tiny ass portion, I really thought they were mocking me,” he grimaced in disgust and then got up from his place. “Get ready, at home you won't eat children's portions.”

At home .

His home?

“Yes. I understand.”

“Good.  It seems that now you can understand what I'm saying. Then I'll see you in three days.”

You got up, wanting to open the door for him and escort him to the exit, but this man really had no manners or just simply didn't care. When you turned to look at him, he was already leaving, Sukuna left the door open, but not without glancing back at you for a few seconds before leaving.

“See you soon!” you said loudly so he could hear you, but he didn't respond.

It didn't take long before you heard a loud bang at the main door. This guy really has the worst temper ever… or he just REALLY hated doors a lot…

When you heard a collective sigh of relief in unison.

Truth be told, the tense atmosphere from before dissipated in a few seconds.

Ame was the first to run into the room and threw herself at you, hugging you tightly, followed by several courtesans and your now former owner.

Several courtesans began to shoot you a series of questions.

“Is he big?”

“Can you walk?”

“Is he thick or large?”

“Did he bite you?”

“Could you handle it?”

“Does he moan or growl?”

“Was it wild?”

“Does he know what he is doing?”

“How long did it last?”

“Did you even sleep?”

“Does he have marks down there?” a courtesan whispered. You choked on air, but Ame cut in sharply“That doesn't matter! CALL A DOCTOR!” 

“SILENCE. ALL OF YOU.”

“My lord, please. Lie down a bit, it looks like you're going to faint...” said one of the concubines.

“Call all the courtesans, I'm calling an emergency meeting.”

Chapter Text

“Well… there’s not much else to see here. This young lady is fine. I don't see the problem”

“Check again. Look for any defects. Examine her thoroughly.”

“Ame… leave the doctor alone.”

“Well…” she said to herself, “perhaps it’s because you’re still an apprentice, no offense.” The poor medical assistant frowned, abruptly said his goodbyes, and left the room. “I guess someone is sensitive today. Well, I suppose I should call a monk… or a priest would be better shot.”

“No. Stop it.”

Ever since Sukuna left, this place had turned into a chaotic wasp nest.

The servants frantically ran back and forth without pause, the concubines bombarded me with strange questions, and Ame was determined to prove I wasn’t a good purchase.

To make the most of my time, (and not lose my mind in the process) I decided to start packing—though, truth be told, I… didn’t have much to pack anyway. Just a few simple fabrics, my hairpin, a worn-out calligraphy set, and some coins. But it was incredibly annoying that whenever I organized my belongings and finished packing, Ame would take them out and put them back in their original place.

She was completely out of her head! She kept insisting that packing wasn’t necessary because I wouldn’t be leaving with Sukuna. Not if she could avoid it. Saying things like "over my dead body".

Everything was upside down. 

“Have you written to that monster yet?” she asked.

“Don’t be rude to him. But… no, I haven’t. I’m still thinking about what to say.”

“You’re being too generous with that . You should have someone else write it and send it as if it were from you,” Ame replied, resting her head on my shoulder.

“I can’t do something like that! He’s a dear friend to me… and he’s helping me. I won't be an ungrateful person who can't even write a simple letter to her benefactor”

“It’s strange for me to imagine you and Sukuna together. It gives the chills, I can’t even connect the feeling—it’s almost unnatural. Well… but if you allow me to be honest with you…” Ame paused, choosing her words carefully, and began playing with my hair. “I don’t think he’s capable of reciprocating your affection. That man-eater thing is just a chaotic force that destroys everything in its path. Something like that can’t love anyone. Maybe he doesn’t even understand it. He’s not human after all. He’s an abomination… who wants to consume you.” She moved away from me and stood up lazily. “That thought just makes me want to contact the monks or the priests—whoever gets here first.”

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Ame! Leave it a—”

How infuriating! This brat left me talking to myself!

But It's useless to get angry about it, just let it go.

but I do hate what she said.I know you're worried but Sukuna is also my friend, Everything she said was horrible and very mean.

coming back on track. 

I stared at the thin, white piece of paper in front of me. Ever since this dear friend of mine crossed the threshold of this establishment, the brothel owner had ordered me to write to Sukuna, begging him to be more flexible with the timeline. According to very confidential sources , the doctors would take at least a month to return to Edo*. Apparently, a plague had ravaged the southern regions of the country before reaching the capital, Heian-kyō*. As a result, only medical apprentices or elderly rural doctors remained. He also added, “Our reputation and popularity in Yoshiwara* have improved exponentially thanks to the presence of the King of Curses—and more importantly, because you managed to reel him in. I won’t ask what the hell you did, but it worked. Thanks to your sacrifice, I might even find a good suitor for your friend. But I’m sure you understand that I can’t afford to waste this opportunity. If rumors spread that ‘I’m selling defective merchandise,’ you know it, we’ll lose all credibility if a mere apprentice examines you. Maybe the monster will listen and grant us more time. No matter what, make it happen.”

I tried to explain that I didn’t think it would change his decision. Despite my letter, I had a faint suspicion that Sukuna wouldn’t budge, but the owner dismissed my opinion. He didn't want to listen to me.

Sometimes, he could be so stubborn.

But regardless, he ordered me to do it, so I had no choice but to obey.

Lord Ryomen Sukuna,

I apologize for my impudence.  

I hope this sudden correspondence finds you in good spirits.  

I write to inform your esteemed authority that it has been impossible to contact a doctor to determine the date for the appraisal. I regret to inform you that, according to the only information available, the nearest doctor will not arrive for at least a month, as all Edo doctors have been summoned to Heian-kyō. Therefore, due to these circumstances, this humble servant kindly requests your generosity in extending the timeline of the promised sale until a doctor arrives.  

I look forward to your prompted response.  

Sincerely,  Your friend.  

That should suffice.

I folded the letter carefully and handed it to one of the maids to deliver it as quickly as possible. Then, I returned to the task of packing… again.

What Ame is doing is so annoying.  

It’s like the behavior of a child.  

I reached for my hairpin. Its surface was cold to the touch, and despite its wear, it still retained a faint shine.  

A child. Someone who can’t control the situation and so… tries to delay the inevitable.  

I don’t want to leave her either, but my time here is over. She’s still young—much younger than me. She has the chance to marry a Samurai or a Nobleman, live happily, and have a family.  

But me…  

My time has run out.  

No one will want to marry a withered flower.  

Sukuna is my only hope of leaving this place. I’m lucky he took pity on me.  

…  

Can’t you stop being a burden?

Yes. I know.  

You’re always so pathetic.

I am.  

All I can do is accept it.  

Ame, your older sister is a terrible adult. I’m afraid I’m a loser—you shouldn’t follow my example.

I laughed hollowly and glanced toward the hallway, where the young apprentices were bustling about.  

as an adult.

It is my duty to be patient with her, to teach her, and to fill you with praise and love before I leave. It’s the least I can do.  

I may never see her again.  

But saying that out loud would be cruel and unnecessary.  

I suppose that’s the weight I must carry as the adult here.  

With all of that in mind, organizing and repacking became a quick task, and with it, the afternoon seemed to pass just as swiftly. The midday sun, which had shone intensely and oppressively, finally waned, giving way to the cool, dewy evening. But with it came some unwelcome visitors who repeatedly demanded to examine me.

“Yes. We’re certain. Ryomen Sukuna was here. The trace is faint, but I can sense his presence. Young Lady, I truly pity your fate.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Sir.” These men didn’t inspire much confidence in me. I felt a particularly and strange vibe from them—similar to Sukuna’s, yet different. I didn’t like it one bit. The sooner I could get them out of here, the better. I didn’t want outsiders meddling in this matter. “I’m sorry you came all this way, Your Holinesses for nothing, but allow me to give you the pleasure to escort you to the exit with respective compensation for the loss of your precious time.”

“You needn’t felt sorry or evade the issue, miss. We’ve heard you were purchased by the Fallen One.”

Silence.

I didn’t like this one bit.

Something about the atmosphere felt off.

The tension broke when the oldest priest spoke.  

“But doesn’t it strike you as odd?” the one who spoke was a man well into his years and was staring intently at the kimono I had worn the night before, tracing his hands over the fabric with caution. It made me feel unpleasant and anxious “The Fallen One was never so interested in humans… Perhaps this is an opportunity. The opening we definitely need…” All eyes turned to me, uncomfortably so.  

“We’ll notify the clans,” one of them said, hurrying out of the room. A pair of boney, cold hands touched my shoulder. “Do not fear. You will be the woman who brings an end to the era of curses.” What the hell does that even mean?!

Shortly before those strange priests left, they informed me they would find a way to communicate with me and urged me to be brave and that i have to survive until the time came.

what time? no idea.

Ame, stomping and fuming, scolded them for not helping at all and only wasting her time. But the group of priests could only apologize for their failure and admit they had taken more than they could repay.  

When they left the room and I could no longer hear their footsteps, I slammed the door and exploded, addressing Ame.

“That. WAS. NOT. CORRECT. AT. ALL. you have to stop this. Now.” clearly upset with all that interaction. 

“But I just want‐" She stumbled over her words at my violent outburst. Never in all the years we had been together had I raised my voice to her. "I just want to save you...”

“I don't need to be saved, I told you! But you simply don't listen to me! and even if I wanted to, you couldn't do anything about it. Now there are outsiders meddling and getting involved in my business, are you aware of how dangerous this could get?” I said in a reproachful and scolding way, She just makes things more complicated, she will ruin everything. Not only for me, but for her too. 

“... I just want to help”

Calm down. Be an adult. Don't leave her with a bad taste in her mouth just a few days before you leave. 

Compose yourself before talking.

“It's alright, just listen to me from time to time, okay?”

That argument drained what little energy I had left for the day.  

At dinner, the courtesans continued to pester me with obscene or just plain strange questions, to which I irritably replied that I wasn’t interested in discussing the topic further and ignored them rudely.

The night slipped by quickly, and before I knew it, I was ready to rest. But Ame came to my quarters. Though she didn’t say it outright, the way she stood at my door—like a child who’d had a nightmare and wanted to sleep with their parents—made it clear. I couldn’t refuse such a pure, childlike request.  

We slept side by side. Just like in our younger days.  

She didn’t say much that night, choosing instead to hug me in silence without uttering a word. I think she assumed I’d be upset with her over what had happened a few hours earlier, or maybe she just didn’t want to talk about the whole situation. Either was fine with me. Because, despite being a little annoyed by her insistence, I couldn’t stay mad at her. At the same time, I didn’t know how to comfort her properly, so I had no words of encouragement or solace to offer.  

All I could do was return her affection and try to convey mine in silence.  

And just like that, the first of my final days here had passed.  

The next morning, not much had changed. The usual hustle and bustle and creaking footsteps against the wooden floor were still there, but now they were accompanied by screams.  

Wait screams?.

“What’s that noise?” I asked Ame, groggy from being abruptly awakened.

“I don’t know!” she replied, disoriented, sleepy, and clearly  in a bad mood. It reminded me why we didn’t sleep together anymore—she almost always woke up grumpy. “Who starts screaming this early in the morning?”

“I’ll go see.”

I left my room, looking disheveled and far from presentable, and followed the commotion until I found the source. To my surprise, it was the brothel owner. He was sitting sloppily, gripping his hair tightly as if overwhelmed and frustrated, while holding a piece of paper in his other hand… Wait, was that a letter?!

I pushed through the crowd until I was close enough to catch a glimpse of what the letter said or who it was from.

On the crumpled back, I noticed a character: “King.” Sukuna had already responded to my letter! I didn’t think he’d reply so quickly! Wait.

Why does he have my letter?

Who gave him the right to read my correspondence?!

As I approached, I snatched the letter from his hands and took the liberty of examining it more closely.

His name was written elegantly, and… I can’t believe it. His handwriting is better than mine! How envious.

I felt a little excited thinking he might have written something meaningful in response. My letter had been very formal, but I’d hoped he’d say something interesting in his reply.

I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

I knew Sukuna was a man of few words, and I’m aware it’s better to speak less than necessary.

But this man was an extremist.

He’d simply written, “No.” In big letters. Nothing else.

Well… that’s definitely something.

Very typical of him.

“So…” I said carefully. “He says… ‘no.’ now what?”

“He’s definitely going to kill me,” the owner said, sinking deeper into despair. “I’m going to be Yoshiwara’s laughingstock.”

“Uhm…” I can use this as a little revenge. “I think he just wants to see me as soon as possible! Yeah… I think so… At least, but he might be a little upset for the boldness of the letter” You deserve it for snooping through my correspondence! I’ll leave you with a tiny bit of uncertainty.

Heh.

“An apprentice will do the appraisal. Nobody. ABSOLUTELY NO ONE. WILL TALK ABOUT THAT. And you—if Sukuna asks, it’s a doctor.”

“Understood.”

The second day wasn’t much different from the previous one. There was a lot of movement in the brothel, and the streets were bustling with noise. But it wasn't a particularly significant day, aside from trying on several outfits to decide what I’d wear tomorrow and learning I’d have to wake up early because a medical apprentice would be coming in the morning to perform the physical examination.

I won't sleep much, the sacrifices that I have to make.

Even though all I did was try on clothes, it drained my energy quickly.

By nightfall, I wanted to collapse onto the tatami and sleep deeply. But at dinner, Ame mentioned she’d be sleeping with me again tonight, so I guess that wasn’t an option. I feared she’d break down crying until she fell asleep.

Also, when she is asleep, she tends to roll over and that would wake me up. another reason why we don't sleep together anymore.

But this night  wasn’t the case. To my pleasant surprise, we spent a heartfelt night laughing at silly memories and mischiefs we’d gotten into, reminiscing about the bitter and tough moments we’d endured together. Though we both wished the night could last forever, drowsiness eventually took over us, and we laid down on the tatami, exhausted. For a moment, I thought Ame was already asleep as I teetered on the edge between wakefulness and dreams, but a soft, peaceful voice pulled me back.

“Do you remember when we first met…” she whispered faintly.

“I do. You looked so happy just eating plain rice.”

“I was… so… so hungry… It felt warm. I think about it even to this day, I’ve never eaten anything so delicious.” shel let out a soft giggle. “And… you know, when I looked up to ask for more, I thought I’d died and somehow ended up in the land of the gods. Because I saw you, and you were beautiful. I thought you were a servant sent from the heavens.” She buried her head in my shoulder as we lay there. “You… you’re my home. When no one wanted me—not even my own flesh and blood—you saw me with eyes full of love.”

I began to stroke her head and play with her hair, something that always helped her fall asleep. I lowered my hand to her back and kept rubbing back and forth until her breathing became even and peaceful.

She had fallen asleep.

“Ame. If it means anything… you’re the one who made this hell more bearable.”

The third of my final days had arrived.

I was repeatedly asked to get out of bed, but I refused. All I wanted was to sleep, so four courtesans had to drag me out against my will. I was hauled from my bed to the bathhouse. At least I could be grateful the water was lukewarm. It was a shame, though, that the exhaustion and drowsiness didn’t wash away with the water.

Stubbornly uncooperative due to my overwhelming desire to sleep, I was forcibly dressed in a white kimono for the appraisal.

The medical apprentice was kind enough to perform the physical examination first. He was quiet and meticulous, which allowed me to extend my sleep a little longer—though not nearly enough.

The round of questions was torturously long. After that he privately advised me to eat more roots,vegetables and meat and also strongly recommended that I avoid expecting until I gained some weight.

I have no desire to bear a child, anyways.

The day… What was the day like? I don’t know.  

I felt dampness in the air. Had it rained overnight? The shadows in the brothel seemed more pronounced, and the lamplight cast a dull glow over the murals. A cold, grayish atmosphere had absorbed all the garish colors of the walls, leaving everything looking like a monotonous, dark blur.

I looked pale, so i applied simple makeup—red blush on the folds of my eyes, cheeks and lips—but decided not to use the white base.

I was asked if I needed help changing my clothes, an offer I gladly accepted because, honestly, moving around in three layers of fabric was a nightmare and a hussle. The inner kimono remained white, the second layer was pink, and the outer layer was green, tied with a white obi and black ribbon, with black lacquered geta sandals and white straps. The girls were sweet, saying I looked like a sakura mochi.

But my body felt heavy and constrained under the layers of fabric. My neck was tense from the constant combing and styling of my hair, and my limbs ached, likely from sleeping in a bad position.

Courtesans came to my room, expressing their well-wishes. Some promised to write often and pray for my safety, while others simply cried and hugged me. But I didn’t see Ame anywhere. She wasn’t even by my side when I woke up.

I wanted to talk to her before I left.

At least one last time.

But it’s fine.

…

It's fine.

and the big moment came.

I was called to the conference room to wait there.

To everyone’s surprise, Sukuna didn’t show up.

Instead, he sent a representative—someone truly… peculiar. They had delicate features and long lashes but carried a prominent, inflexible demeanor. Their hair and skin were pale, like snow piled up in winter. They looked beautiful and ethereal, like a yōsei*

They introduced themselves as “Uraume” and looked at me.

No—scratch that.

They judged me.

Observed.

Analyzed.

Carefully, from head to toe, before locking their gaze on mine. Do you want to test my willpower? Do you want to see if I’m the right woman for your master?

Well, you’re mistaken.

I have none of that!

I have no pride to give you, no shame to feel and nothing to offer. Honestly, any other woman would have been a better choice.

I simply met their gaze with a soft smile and a slight bow.

The “doctor” stepped forward. The poor boy was trembling more than a wretch in winter, but seeing that Sukuna hadn’t shown up visibly eased him. He declared that I was in good health, free of any illness, and recommended improving my diet.

After that, the transaction didn’t take long, and neither party had any disagreements.

Uraume insisted on escorting me to the exit of the red-light district. However, they were informed that, to prove the courtesan was being handed over of her own free will, she had to leave the brothel unaccompanied.

Well, that was an unwritten rule. This damned businessman wanted to squeeze every last drop out of me.

You slippery snake!

That’s why you’re bald.

And old.

And here I thought you were a good man.

Uraume looked at me and asked, “Would you like me to accompany you, or shall I wait outside for you?”

My opinion?

What I want?

…

“I’ll go out alone. I don’t want to embarrass your master. If rumors spread that I left accompanied, it could tarnish his image. It’s better if they say I went out to meet him.”

Though their face remained expressionless, a faint hint of surprise flickered across it for a moment. But it didn’t last long before their expression turned stern again. They took my luggage, asking with slight confusion if that was all. I nodded, and informed me they’d be waiting outside with the palanquin before leaving.

Wait. 

Are we going in a palanquin?

It’s the first time I’ve seen one!

I’m excited!

“Girl. You did it,” the owner said with a broad smile on his face. Well, I guess it’s a shame that, even after all this time, I still don’t remember his name… “Since I couldn’t fulfill my promise, I’ve decided to exonerate that girl’s debt* and find her the best match. It’s the least I can do, considering… well, you’re leaving under these circumstances.” 

I take back what I said earlier.

This man is a saint.

He’s useful until the very end.

and not so bald.

I responded to his words with a bow, taking his hands in mine and smiling.

“Safe travels, and I hope you have a good life, my girl.”

It’s time.

My body felt as if it were possessed. I rose from the conference room and walked toward the exit with a serene, unhurried pace. As if time didn’t exist.

Only this moment matters.

Nothing else does.

The crying doesn’t matter.

The scent of incense doesn’t matter.

The colors of the tapestries don’t matter.

The pain in my limbs doesn’t matter.

Even the exhaustion doesn’t matter.

I need to press on.

Until I cross that threshold.

Nothing matters.

I just have to leave this place.

Leave.

I must—

Sister.

…

Ame… I wish I could’ve seen your face one last time…

Ah last time.

Well I guess it will be the best for her. 

“SISTER!” Her voice snapped me out of my trance, and I momentarily lost my balance as she grabbed my legs tightly, her voice ragged and desperate. “Don’t go! You can still change your mind!” She struggled to articulate her words. I turned around and crouched down to her level, trying to memorize her face as best as I could. “I need you! I need my sister with me! I don't want to lose you”

“Ame. You were one of the best things that ever happened to me,” I said, placing my hand on her cheek. “My little one, I’ll write to you often.”

“I swear I’ll find a way. I’ll come to you. I promise I’ll find you, and we’ll be together again!”

“Alright,” I said, holding her face and caressing it one last time. “Until then, see you later, little sister,” I said as I walked toward the main door.

“But! Don’t say it so casually!”

I turned my head and tried to give her my best smile. “Wouldn’t it be a little embarrassing to say goodbye forever if we’re going to see each other again?”

I’m sorry, Ame. Your sister is a liar, too.

…

But oh.

For the gods.

How good it felt to be outside.

I walked at a slow, carefree pace through the empty streets, looking up at the sky. I was right—it was cloudy. It must have rained the night before because the ground was still damp.

Carefully, I approached the structure. The palanquin was beautiful and elegant, so I took a moment to admire it before climbing in. Clumsily, I tried to get in.

I have to admit, it was harder than it looked with the kimono on, and it was quite high off the ground since the men were holding it up to keep it from getting muddy.

Uraume, seeing my many unsuccessful attempts to climb in, offered to help me up. Despite their unassuming physique, they effortlessly lifted my entire weight, leaving me momentarily stunned.

And without further delay, we set off on our journey.

The view—what a view.

Everything was new and beautiful.

Chapter Text

The city was beautiful, its streets bustling with life and new sights I hadn’t seen since my last escape to Edo’s downtown. But the journey through the town was brief, and soon we were heading uphill, the buildings shrinking below us as we traveled into the mountains and further away from the town. 

The sky grew grayer with the passing of time, threatening with more rain—unusual for summer times, but not unwelcome. The air was cool and refreshing, a rare blessing in the humid season.

I could see the condensation on the leaves, hear the hum of cicadas and the croak of frogs. Birds sang wildly in the distance, their melodies blending with the rustle of the forest.

With little to nothing else to do, I decided it was a good time to strike up a conversation with Uraume. If we have a conversation, the journey undeniably would feel shorter.

“Thank you for your help, the palanquin was quite elevated; I hope I won’t be a bother to you in the future” I began, hoping to start a conversation and  break the ice.

“It’s nothing,” they replied briefly. Ugh… such a dry response. I wanted to make this less awkward, not even more so, but Uraume wasn’t making it easy. I resisted the urge to sigh, shifting my weight instead. Maybe I should just drop it.

“I thought Lord Sukuna would come today. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

“He had an unexpected matter to attend to. That’s why he couldn’t join us.”

“I see…” Think of something, anything! “I suppose it must have been important.”

Oh no. Now I sound pretentious, like I’m upset he chose something else over me.

Stupid! Stupid!

“No, it was simply something that couldn’t be postponed,” Uraume clarified.

“Oh. I see… Ha..ha..Then… how far—”

Uraume cut me off, stepping out of the palanquin.

“Oh. Well…”

I guess that's where our conversation ends.

I exhaled slowly, pressing my lips together. I’m terrible at small talk…

*

Time became hard to track without the sun, but eventually, we stopped in the middle of the forest. Uraume invited me to stretch my legs, and I gladly stepped out, inhaling the cool, damp air. It felt strange—happy, sad, excited, nostalgic. A peculiar mix of emotions I couldn't quite place. 

“I apologize for the delay, my lady," Uraume said, handing me a waterskin. "The rain has made the ground slippery, and the men are tired. Drink. It’s been a long journey from the capital."

"Has it? It doesn’t feel like it." I took a sip, the cold water refreshing against my throat. For a moment, I closed my eyes, savoring the fleeting relief. "Thank you for your kindness."

We didn’t stay long and quickly set off again. Even though the scenery seemed beautiful to me, I could tell that we were heading deep into the mountain. The path looked steeper.

I also heard the men complaining and murmuring, apparently they were tired. Even though I couldn’t feel the passage of time, I was aware that we had traveled a long distance

*

Not much time passed—at least, not for me, since sleep consumed me, and I slept through most of the journey—until we reached a paved road. Though the ground seemed more stable, the palanquin felt more unstable, swaying from side to side.

I began to hear murmurs from the men carrying me. They sounded sick—talking about wanting to vomit, wanting to go back home... What was happening?

I truly didn’t understand. Were they tired? But we had just taken a break not long ago.

I poked my head out to look at Uraume, but he was at the front of the palanquin. So, I discreetly asked one of the men, "Do you feel unwell? Do you want me to ask for another break?"

He lifted his head, shaking it in refusal. So, what was happening?

Perhaps seeing my confusion, he answered just as quietly, "We are in his domain" Whispers returned, saying that the atmosphere felt heavy and ominous, as if the miasma of this place had stuck to them, mentioning several times that they wanted to leave.

In his domain... A realization crept over me. I see! We are near the residence. When they say "domain" it seems as if he really were a Monarch.

Well, when he answered my letter referring to himself as "King of curses" Of course that doesn't sound intimidating at all.

A sudden understanding hit me like a slap. These men were afraid of him.

My heart skipped a beat and ached. They must have heard about the rumors. It must be difficult for Sukuna—to be despised and feared, just because of how he looks…

It wasn’t fair.

He was kind in his own way, thoughtful, and brilliant.

If only they’d give him a chance.

It's not fair that they judge him by how he looks.

It’s one thing to judge someone for their actions, but to condemn them for their appearance? That’s not fairness—it’s cruelty

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the palanquin had stopped until Uraume opened the curtain and offered me a hand.

Which I gladly accepted. Who could possibly dislike receiving courtesies from someone as beautiful? I certainly hadn’t heard of anyone who would, and I certainly wasn’t about to be the exception.

Stepping out, I turned to see the carriage behind me, the men carrying the palanquin seemed agitated as if they were in a hurry. They set down the palanquin near the gate, and by Uraume's approval, they quickly took their leave without turning back.  Their reactions were a little over the top, it's not like Sukuna was going to devour them or something like that.

Once they were gone, I looked towards the mansion and gasped in awe. The residence wasn’t what I’d expected.

A stone wall surrounded the residence, stretching as far as my eyes could see. The gate was massive—a towering wooden door, truly imposing, almost like the entrance to a fortress.

To my double surprise, Uraume gently pushed against it, and despite its size, it yielded effortlessly to their touch. The gates swung open without a sound. They gestured for me to enter.

The building was enormous. Perhaps it had been built to match Sukuna’s proportions, but it gave off the air of a pseudo-temple—though maybe that was just my impression. It had been so long since I’d visited a temple, and something about the sheer scale of this place stirred that memory.

As I stepped inside, the first thing I noticed was the sheer width of the doors—far larger than usual. The air carried a faint scent of aged wood and something unfamiliar, something I couldn’t quite place.

I stood frozen at the gates, but Uraume urged me—repeatedly, though never insistently—to step inside.

As I finally crossed the threshold, my eyes swept over the space, noting its stark simplicity. It was immaculate, almost unnervingly so. Not a speck of dust, not a single stray mark disturbed the surfaces. Yet, despite its pristine state, the lack of decoration left it feeling empty, almost hollow.

It felt unusual to see such a simple place. Perhaps I had spent too much of my life surrounded by vibrant colors and rich aromas—so now, the pure mountain air and the stark simplicity of this place felt almost foreign. Not unpleasant, just... unfamiliar.

While walking Uraume took ahead of me, leading the way in silence. The servants in the mansion glanced at me, and I caught whispers here and there, which only made me feel more uneasy. It made me feel out of place, like an unwelcome guest.

"In the meantime," Uraume said, pulling me out of my thoughts, "Lord Sukuna is not here to receive you, so it would be best for you to wait in his quarters. It’s a shame though,—proper etiquette would call for a tour of the residence or at least showing you to your room, but that isn’t possible right now, not  at this time. The preparations aren’t ready."

His tone sharpened slightly. "I have other obligations to attend to—ones I’m already late for." He exhaled, clearly irritated. "I have to go. Please, do as you please, Miss."

I could only nod silently. I had already been disappointed that Sukuna wasn’t there to greet me in the morning, and now, his absence upon my arrival only added to that feeling. I had hoped to see him. I didn’t even know when he would return…

Wait. I should ask that!.

"Do you know when he’ll be back?"

Uraume paused, turning slightly as if considering the question.

"No. I’m afraid not."

So, he might not even come back today…

"But I am certain he will return sometime today."

Well, that’s something, at least.

They left me alone, and once I heard their footsteps fade away, I took certain liberties within the room. After all, this room apparently  was Sukuna’s quarters…

And yes, this is indeed a man's room.

There was no decoration whatsoever, but that doesn't stop me from snooping around and finally giving in to my curiosity, starting to examine everything in the room.

There was a desk with a calligraphy set, its quality unmistakable, along with ink that looked just as refined. Next to it lay my letter, and beside that, an open book—a collection of poetry?.

Sukuna doesn’t seem like the type to read this kind of literature...

Across the room, a shelf held a mix of books, scrolls, and a pile of correspondence.

What else…?

A brazier.

A wardrobe. When I opened it, I found several kimonos with wide sleeves, all in monochromatic or muted colors.

And his giant futon...

It looked lofty, thick, and very cushioned. When I touched it, the surface was cool to the touch. When I laid down, I couldn’t believe how soft it was, like laying on a feather or a cloud.

This is so... comfy.

I want to sleep... But I can’t! How frustrating.

I shouldn’t have slept during the journey. At least I could stretch out my poor limbs since no one was here.

With my eyes closed, I tried to drift off, but no sleep came.

No Nothing.

But I don’t want to move.

It feels too good.

It’s like the best day of my life!

I want to stay like this forever.

Though, I’m a little hungry... we arrived around noon and i haven't eaten a single thing

I want to eat.

But I don’t want to move.

I’m hungry.

But I’m so comfortable.

Though I don’t even know where to go. Or if they’ll bring me food—or if I should go to the kitchen and make something myself.

I don’t want to touch anything here. I don’t want to be scolded for doing something I shouldn’t.

His bed smells so much like him. It feels so… good but so wrong. 

I inhaled deeply, letting the sensation wash over me, melting further into the softness.

It’s a bit weird of me to be in his room, going through his stuff, and smelling his bed...Uhm, yeah. It’s fucking weird.

I’m not any better than men.

“I'm a weirdo.”

“Yes, you definitely are.”

I gasped in surprise and spun around. There he was—Sukuna, wearing nothing but a white hakama, and his hair still damp as he dried it with a bath towel.

“You … scared me!” 

“Yeah, yeah. You deserve that.” He smirked, stepping closer. “Besides, who gave you the right to lie on my futon? I don’t remember granting you that privilege.”

He threw his wet towel at my face! Ouch!

“That's nice, thank you very much. I am a clothes hanger now” I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“Stop throwing a tantrum,”  He scoffed

Yeah “privilege”

Oh, wait…

He is right.

I'm not privileged, he bought me.

I am his property now 

Now he is my lord.

and my master.

I should treat him with respect.

What I had done was purely for my own pleasure, and the worst thing is that he caught me red-handed.

I want to dig a hole and bury myself in it!

Get it together, it shouldn't be a big deal, you’ve been childhood friends! … 

Sure but, it’s been years— without any kind of contact or relationship with each other. And now, you just lie down on his bed as if nothing happened between us? What are you even thinking???

“Move aside. I want to sleep.”

And i complied. I move a side.

He was really serious?

Really... he just wants to sleep??

Oh boy. You have a fine girl beside you and this is the only thing you do?

Sleep?

He just got into the futon, turned his back to me, and fell asleep.

Just like that.

Because of this.

He refused to extend the time.

He was in such a hurry to bring me here but now that I’m right next to him, he brushes me aside. 

Only to ignore me and sleep.

Who gets him?

You didn’t even come to get me.

Liar.

I sat on the edge, trying not to make any noise. I even held my breath, just to avoid disturbing him.

Nothing. He didn’t move.

I wanted to yawn.

NOW my body decides it’s a good time to sleep.

NOW.

Not when I was alone.

Well... if it really bothered him that I was here, he would’ve told me to leave.

But... he didn’t.

And if he let me stay here...

It means I can sleep too!

So, since we’re here, I’ll sleep for a while. Maybe this way I can sleep off the hunger.

I laid down beside him and closed my eyes. I only got close because he deliberately took my favorite spot on his bed.

Idiot. You don’t deserve me sleeping beside you. You didn’t keep your word.

The sound of his breathing was irritatingly soothing. So much so that I couldn’t fight it anymore and let my consciousness slip away. Raindrops began to hit harmoniously and gently against the wooden ceiling. The rain outside caused the temperature to drop, so naturally, my body sought warmth. And it didn’t take long for me to find it... resting my forehead against it.

Chapter Text

I wasn’t fully asleep. Drowsy, perhaps, but not completely out. I didn’t want to waste the weight of my weariness on unnecessary conversation.  

Now that she was within my domain, we could chat from time to time if I grew bored. But not now.

Besides, there was no need to worry about her trying something stupid. From what I could tell, she wasn’t carrying any weapons, and her cursed energy was almost nonexistent  or rather, unstable.  

This idiot didn’t follow my advice.  

A part of me felt frustrated. There had been a slight change of plans, and because of it, I hadn't enjoyed any of the things presented for my entertainment that morning. It had been a hectic start to the day.

A damn, stupid sorcerer had chosen the worst possible date to show up demanding a duel.

Literally no one had challenged me in a month.  

No one.  

For an entire month.  

But on the very day he was supposed to leave to claim his property, this idiot had shown up. For a brief moment, he almost regretted not agreeing to her request for more time.  

But the thought quickly faded. He delegated Uraume to retrieve her while he entertained himself and warmed up, thinking it’d make for a good warm-up—a quick snack.  

Well. He was wrong.  

He got cocky. The sorcerer who showed up was a full-blown master. Not a snack, but an appetizer, main course, and dessert all in one. A three-course meal served on a silver platter.  

The sorcerer had brought some truly intriguing techniques to the fight, A cursed technique that mimicked ocean currents gave him a significant advantage especially on a humid day like this and for a while, He let himself get caught up in the thrill of the fight. and Sukuna found himself momentarily swept up in the thrill of the clash. But inevitably, boredom crept in as his opponent grew exhausted, teetering on the edge of death.  

The sorcerer had pushed his body to the bitter end, damaging his own heart in the process—a shame, really. The man had been a tough nut to crack, and just rewarding enough to make Sukuna deem it a good fight. But such is the nature of duels to death.  

So, he finished what he’d started. At the very least, he could add more supplies to the slaughterhouse. In this case, it’d be better to eat it fresh.  

He glanced at the sky, now dark and ominous—no doubt rain was on the way. Besides, it had likely been hours since Uraume had left.  

The thought of Uraume retrieving the source of his problems also reminded him that he now had to hunt—not just for himself, but for her “friend” as well. Double the effort. This situation was only going from bad to worse.  

He needed to find a way to end this, whether by breaking the binding vow or by killing her.

This was something he’d already decided. Yet despite being so close, he couldn’t go through with it. His hand faltered.  He faltered . And this very notion repulsed him—an abhorrent aberration. He’d never hesitated to kill what annoyed him, what stood in his way… and that’s exactly what she was. A nuisance. 

Being tied—no, chained—to someone else was suffocating. It was neither viable nor acceptable for him, not in a million years.

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to make his presence known—and what an entrance it was.  

He arrived with a deer slung over his shoulder and a corpse dragging behind him in his right lower hand. He was a mess a fucking mess, covered in mud and blood.  

He made his way to the kitchen, where Uraume rolled up their sleeves and began moving about, bustling from one task to another.  

Uraume, ever perceptive, sensed their master’s presence and gave a respectful bow before continuing with the preparations.  

Sukuna dumped both corpses onto a broad, copper-toned wooden table.  

“The deer’s for her. The sorcerer’s mine.”  

Uraume, slightly perplexed, nodded but couldn’t hold their tongue.  

“I see that you went hunting, my lord.”  

“Of course, my culinary preferences  do not suit everyone"

Before leaving, Sukuna recalled the medical exam ordeal and that she had even asked to send a letter on that subject. So he quickly deduced that If Uraume had returned, it meant she’d arrived with them.  

“What did the doctor say?”  

“Nothing relevant, she’s in good health. He only mentioned that her diet could improve.” Uraume hesitated, then added, “Though I forgot to mention… they gave me a ewer of sake upon our departure.”  

Sukuna said nothing.The feeling of blood crusted under his nails, the metallic tang of battle still clung to his skin. Without another word, he turned and stalked toward the baths, with the intent on scrubbing away the grime, the gore— and taking the liberty of being able to think things thoroughly.

The coagulated filth peeled away under the warm water, swirling into nothingness. The steam carried a soft, floral scent, something light but lingering.

Flowers.

The association was immediate. Annoyingly so. A fragrance that should have meant nothing somehow brought her to mind.

“I don’t understand.”  

None of this made sense.  

This entire situation was absurd. He should’ve easily killed her. Right there, at that moment.  

But what did he do instead?  

He bought her.  

All he did was delay what he was supposed to do from the start: kill her or find a way to free himself from her.  

And that was something he couldn’t comprehend either. He’d been obsessively pondering it these past few days, but there was no plausible conclusion. Why was he bound to her?

He gently touched his throat, still remembering the sharp, annoying pain caused by the separation due to the binding vow.  

“Pinky promise: If I lie, I’ll swallow a thousand needles and cut off my finger.”

“ Satisfied?” 

“Yes! We’ll be united, forever!”  

He’d replayed what they’d said that day almost obsessively, trying to understand why the hell a bond had formed.  

Calm down. You’re losing your composure.

Let’s go back to basics.  

A binding vow is a contract or promise based on mutual interest and consent, sealed with cursed energy.  

You bind yourself to another person to achieve something greater.  

Technically, he had made a promise, but at the time, he should have asked for something in return.  

What was it? He had no idea.  

He didn’t remember.  

But just because he made a “promise” doesn’t mean it was sealed with cursed energy.  

Unless… Back then, he was inexperienced with cursed energy. It’s plausible that, carelessly, he might have let a flow of cursed energy slip while they were talking. But that brat didn’t have cursed energy at the time.  

Now, he could see that her energy was strange—fluctuating—but it was what a normal human would have. Nothing out of the ordinary. If this is a binding vow, she would have needed to be a user of cursed energy to some degree.  

Let’s assume this is a possibility: she is a user of cursed energy, and both of them willingly bound themselves to this promise.  

Fine. There’s a binding vow.  

But the repercussions didn’t manifest immediately. At least, not on his end. They only appeared when he saw her again.  

That doesn’t make any sense.  

The penalty for breaking a binding vow should be instantaneous. But it wasn’t.  

“I—I! I didn’t mean what I said! You’re not a fool! I—I do like you! I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE YOU. But…”  

I didn’t want to.   

Hm…  

Wait.  

What if … 

What if both parties agreed, but one of them was incapable of fulfilling their part?  

That’s a solid theory.  

More than that, a plausible explanation

An external force prevents one party from fulfilling their obligation, thereby temporarily suspending  the terms and benefits of the contract.  

until the burdens and obligations can be resumed.

It’s entirely possible in this situation.  

But it’s something he’d have to investigate further, to test his theory.

By reflecting deeply on everything that had happened throughout the day, he had allowed his mind to wander, but not so much that he noticed that his upper and lower arms began to cramp. And that the position he was in wasn’t very comfortable, so he shifted to face the ceiling—only to see that she was still there.  

On his bed.  

Tug by his side, leaning so freely on him.

He had told you he hadn’t given you the privilege of sleeping here.  

It was... curious, this close proximity to something alive. It wasn’t like him.  

Because he was still undecided about what to do with this situation, it didn’t seem appropriate to let her spend too much time with him. Because She’d surely cling to him like honey to a tree.  

And he had no intention of creating more closeness between her.  

The bond between them was already irritatingly pseudo-affectionate as it was.  

Strengthening it further?  

That was out of the equation.  

Because forming relationships with others makes you weak. Makes you rely on them.

Because forming attachments makes you weak. Dependent. Vulnerable.  

And I am different.  

I depend on no one.I do as I please. I am bound to nothing.  

So, for now—since he wasn’t entirely sure what to do or what direction to take—he’d prefer to just watch her.  

As a pastime.

Hey…  

Hey…  

I felt something gently shaking my body, calling me. But I ignored it. I didn’t want to go back.  

Not yet.  

Leave me.  

Leave me in this darkness.  

In the loss of consciousness.  

Leave me in this state.  

Hey… wake up.  

Why?  

Why should I wake up?  

There’s nothing good out there.  

No one’s waiting for me.  

Let me rot in this void.  

So cold, yet so comforting.  

Wake up.  

No.  

Wake up!  

No.  

I want to stay in the darkness.  

…  

Something blocked my nostrils. I couldn’t breathe.  

“I told you to wake up,” Sukuna said, pinching my nose shut with one of his hands.  

“I can’t breathe!”  

“That was the point.” He let go of my nose and got out of bed, stretching his back.  

The room was cold—bitterly cold and damp. The sound of rain hammered against the rocky pavement and the roof above. My feet felt icy, as did my hands.  

I tried to warm myself by rubbing my hands together. Sukuna noticed this, sighed, opened his wardrobe, and pulled out a black haori. He tossed it over my head. “Follow me,” he said, stepping out of the room. I hurried after him.  

Clumsily and stiffly, I stumbled out. My limbs still felt tense, perhaps from the journey or the abrupt way I’d been woken up. My eyes struggled to focus, and Sukuna—who was no gentleman by any means—wasn’t waiting for me. I could only catch glimpses of him as he turned corners, until he finally slid open one of the doors.  

It was a dining room, quite austere to be honest. There was a square table and only one moderately large cushion.  

Uraume was in the back, setting the table with two plates and their respective side dishes.  

Everything smelled amazing…  

I was so hungry, and my head was pounding.  

“I don’t think you want to eat standing up.”  

“It’s just that… you know. You haven’t told me if I can sit at the table with you.”  

Sukuna stared, perplexed, as an awkward silence filled the room. Even Uraume was taken aback by my comment. The embarrassing atmosphere lingered until Sukuna finally broke the silence.  

“Are you seriously saying this to me?”  

“Yes… it’s rude to—”  

“If we’re talking about rudeness, sleeping in someone else’s bed isn’t exactly polite either, but that didn’t seem to bother you.”  

“That’s different! I—”  

“Just shut the fuck up and eat your food.”  

I sat down at the wooden table. It was strange. The unease I’d felt since entering the residence hadn’t shaken off. Sure, the atmosphere here felt lighter compared to the brothel, but there was something in the air that kept me on edge.  

Maybe it was because not much time had passed yet. That must be it. Don’t overthink it.  

It must be the exhaustion.  

It must be the abrupt wake-up.  

It must be because you haven’t eaten.  

Uraume placed a steaming, hot bowl in front of me. It seemed to be stew. I hadn’t given Uraume much credit before, but they were truly observant—stew was perfect for this weather!. Despite my hunger, the journey had been long, and I still felt dizzy.

Though it smelled amazing, I wasn’t sure what kind of meat it was made from, well who cares, it's food! It is seen delicious!. 

Sukuna, on the other hand, had a different option on the menu: several slices of meat, neatly fileted, with no sides.

Eating just meat doesn’t seem very healthy. But I won’t comment on that.

I waited for Sukuna to take the first bite before starting my meal. The stew was delicious—warm, flavorful, and filled with chunks of vegetables and meat.

It was so good I wanted to cry. I was so hungry, and it was so tasty. Even though I burned my tongue eating too quickly, I couldn’t stop.

I should compliment Uraume. It was truly delicious. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind showering them with every compliment in the world.

“Uraume…” I turned my head in their direction as they tidied up. They seemed surprised and turned to face me. In a soft voice, careful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the meal, I simply said “I love it. Thank you for the food.”

And They smiled! So slightly and nodded. Sukuna glanced at my plate, then at me, and back at my plate. He just sighed and kept eating. Why is he making that ugly ass face?

First, you wake me up so abruptly, and now you're making faces at me?

I’m not making faces or saying anything, even though he’s just eating meat. Sure, I might judge him secretly, but hey, I’m not making faces at him.

At least I have some subtlety. 

Sukuna, as expected, had no manners when it came to eating. The best way to describe it  was like a hungry soldier—not necessarily messy, but definitely not delicate. He didn’t bother with finesse.

Part of me still couldn’t believe I’d actually left the brothel. There was no noise, no chaos—just Sukuna and Uraume, sharing a savory meal. A plate made just for me, served to me personally. It all felt… special. Intimate, even.

Warm, too.

By the time I was halfway through my meal, I started feeling full. I think taking so long to eat made my hunger subside, leaving me with just a light headache.

Although, It’s a shame. The food is delicious, and I don’t want to waste any of it. I also don’t want to make Uraume feel bad for not finishing it besides It was considered very rude to leave food still on the plate.

But if I keep eating at this pace, I’ll end up throwing my insides out tonight. And I'm not a fan of that, plus, I still felt a little dizzy. And all I had planned to do today was eat and sleep again. 

“Are you full already?” Sukuna asked, still eating. Two of his eyes were fixed on me while the others remained focused on his food.

“Why do you ask?” I’d never asked before, but how does it work for him to see with an extra pair of eyes? Are they independent of each other, or not? Hmm, now I’m curious. But I can’t ask him now—that would be anticlimactic. Wait, this is not the time to think that.

“Because you’re playing with your food.” perceptive as ever. Sometimes I hated that about him because I couldn’t hide certain things. I guess that’s going to be a problem from now on.

“I’m full. But it’s so delicious that I don’t want to stop eating it. Though, thanks to your observation, I know I should stop here.”

“You’ve only eaten half of it.”

“I know. But I can’t keep going.”

“Why? Do ‘princesses’ not eat much? Don’t make me laugh” he snorted at me.

Oh! Are we playing sassy? If sassy is what you want, I will definitely serve it to you.

“I’m not used to eating much. If I change that too quickly, it won’t sit well with me.”

“What won’t sit well with you is malnutrition. Keep eating.”

“If I keep eating, You’ll wake with puke all over your bed.”

I held his gaze for a moment. I won’t lie—it was intimidating, the way he looked at me. Despite everything, this guy has a commanding presence that makes you feel compelled to obey. But my loose tongue was faster than my mind, and now I couldn’t back down.

“And who told you that you’re allowed to sleep in my bed again?”

Even though it was true—I planned to sleep after dinner, but do I even have a room of my own just yet? Where else am I going to stay? The corridors?.

Uraume quickly understood the situation and removed the bowl with its remaining contents.

“Lord Sukuna, today has been a long and eventful day for the lady. It’s natural that her appetite isn’t at its best. With your permission, I’ll show her to her room so she can rest.”

Uraume, you’re a saint. GET ME OUT OF HERE.

*

“Any of the servants can assist you, but you may also ask me directly. Whatever you prefer.”

“Understood.”

The pavilion felt cold from the rain still falling outside and dark with the arrival of night. The hallway was incredibly long, and I still couldn’t navigate this place properly—the endless corridors felt like a labyrinth.

 Finally, Uraume stopped and gracefully slid open a door.

“This will be your room. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Tomorrow, you may explore the mansion at your leisure. For now, I recommend you bundle up—the night will be cold. Inside the wardrobe, you should find an appropriate blanket. I'll light the brazier”

“Thank you very much.”

“And, miss… I recommend you choose your battles.”

Well, if you’re saying it, I should probably take the advice. I can’t always be so bold with Sukuna. Not if I want to stay on his good side.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chapter Text

Damn it, in here there’s no blanket to cover myself with.

I search and rummage through the wardrobe, and nothing. Only my clothes were there. And the futon was set up in a way that was more suited for summer, so it only had a thin ass blanket.

Oh, but I still have the haori Sukuna gave me. Well, given how big it is, it’ll work as something to keep me warm.? At least I think so.

What a hassle. I looked around the room for a bowl of water to wash off the remaining makeup from my face, but there wasn’t one.

Of course, they’d forget something basic. Typical

. . .

I guess these servants aren’t used to dealing with guests. But no problem—it’s raining. I’ll use the water dripping from the roof.

The sliding door was a bit stiff, so I had to push it open with some force. As soon as I did, the humidity hit my face. It was pouring rain. I cupped my hands and washed myself with the water—it was ice-cold, yet strangely refreshing.

It was a relief to know that at least they’d left some sake, honey, ash, and salt to wash my mouth.* 

The sake’s sharp scent lingered in the air. After wiping my mouth and taking a sip to relax myself with.

The futon felt warm and comfortable. But I tossed and turned, trying to find a position I liked but nothing worked.

Then I thought: If you stay still, you’ll surely get sleepy.

…

…

…

Nope. Still nothing.

Gods, Why is it so hard to relax? I even drank alcohol to relax me.

Fuck It was a bad idea to take two naps in one day and to make matters worse... the places where I managed to fall asleep were: An uncomfortable and moving palanquin and next to Sukuna.

Okay, but to be honest with myself, the second option wasn’t that bad.

…

Who am I trying to fool here? myself? No way.

Damn it, it wasn’t bad at all.

I slept really well.

But that idiot woke me up out of nowhere.

The rain tapped rhythmically against the roof, a soothing sound that contrasted with my restlessness and now lying in bed frustrated because sleep wasn’t coming to me, I could only stare at the ceiling that was high, with wooden beams that seemed to stretch endlessly, casting faint shadows in the dim light of what would now be my chambers. Speaking of which, the room was quite spacious—you could say it was the size of a living room. Although I could tell there weren’t many things in it: a brazier, a varnished wooden wardrobe with engraved decorations, and a matching desk. They looked quite fine. The craftsman who created these must have been very well remunerated for these pieces.

But, How did Sukuna accumulate so much wealth?! He has a huge residence, with equipped rooms and servants. The only people who can afford such luxuries are landowners, very wealthy merchants, or workers of the shogunate.

But honestly, Sukuna doesn’t fit into any of those categories, so it doesn’t make sense. Plus, he has the audacity to call himself “King.” That’s basically challenging and disrespecting the monarchy—right to their face.

And not just that—others call him that as well, recognizing him as such, as the “King of Curses”—a more… ominous title. That strange old man who came to the brothel called him “the Fallen One.” I don’t understand this. What the hell has Sukuna been up to since we lost contact?

Every time they mentioned him, it sounded like they were referring to a Herald of Death and Destruction. Was it from plunder? Is he a bandit? 

I really don't want to know.

There is no worse blind man than the one who doesn't want to see, and I don't want to know. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

But i'm sure of one thing. It must be lonely for him. Even as an adult, people still casted him aside. But I’m glad he has Uraume by his side—I want to believe that at least. I haven’t analyzed their relationship in detail, but from what I saw at dinner, it seemed like they’ve spent quite some time together. I could sense a familiarity between them that cannot be hidden, which makes me happy because he hasn’t been alone all this time.

I guess it’s similar to how I had Ame.  Sukuna had Uraume for company.

I really hope to get along with everyone here. I’m not a noblewoman nor from a good family, so it’s likely they’ll try to ignore me. But I don’t want to create unnecessary tension or a hostile environment. I deeply wish for my stay to be calm and peaceful. If I had wanted to remain in a hostile place, I could’ve just stayed at the brothel. For which i think it’s my time to finally have a breath of fresh air and tranquility. Is it too much to ask for a little peace after everything I’ve been through? right. 

Haha…Right.

Now look at me, now asking …

but despite everything, it was a relief, no more swimming against the current, no more noisy awakenings, no more pressure, no more obligations, no more scandals—just peace and quiet. It just reminds me of the old days… when everything was simpler, when my mother would stroke my hair and sing me lullabies to sleep with her soft hands and melodic voice, while my father tucked me in and hugged me with such care.

My parents…

It’s been a while since I last thought about them.

Yes, that’s my signal to go to sleep.

If I keep going down this line of thinking, I know how it’ll end—badly. How badly? So badly that I’ll end up crying myself to sleep. Why do things always hurt more at night?

I covered my head with Sukuna’s haori. It felt soft, as if it were made of silk, clean with the scent of the sun and something woody, the scent was faintly comforting, like a distant lull . A tear escaped from my eyes, and I could only clutch the fabric helplessly between my fingertips. Luckily, this time, I managed to fall asleep.

*

The village was bustling as always, and the sun gently touched everything in its path. There were murmurs and conversations I couldn’t quite make out.

My hand was being held softly by someone else.

“Mommy! Mommy! Can we get dango? Can we, can weee?”

I heard her laugh. It was beautiful…

There she was, my dear mother. I couldn’t see her face—the sunlight was too bright and covered it up—but I could tell she was smiling. Her hands, despite the calluses, felt soft.

“Yes, my dear, we’ll go. But first, we need to buy some inches of fabric. You’ve grown up so much your clothes don’t fit anymore.”

“Yay!”

We walked through the crowd. I looked at the people’s faces, but they were blurry. Everything was so big and so busy. My mom’s hand held mine gently but firmly.

We passed by a street vendor roasting mitarashi dango. The aroma was delicious, but the vendor was shooing away a boy who kept peeking at the food.

“Get out of here! You little thief, you’re scaring away my customers. Either buy something or leave. I don’t give handouts.”

I watched as the boy's hands were slapped and ran off, disappearing into the sea of people. But honestly, I was more interested in the food. My mouth started watering the moment I laid eyes on the dango. My mother, noticing I couldn’t take my eyes off it, sighed and bought two skewers.

“It’s better if you wait here. The fabric store is too crowded. Eat one and save the other for me, okay? Don’t move from this spot.”

“Yes!”

It was delicious—hot and chewy, sweet yet salty. I didn’t get to eat them often, but they were my favorite, even though I burned my tongue from eating it too quickly.

Among the people, I spotted someone small who didn’t look well. It was that same boy from before. He had bandages on his face, and his features were strange. 

He was very thin.

I think he doesn’t have parents.

He was looking at me—well, at my dango. I could tell by his gaze. He was hungry.

But this one’s for my mom…

But… she always says we should help the less fortunate!

I walked toward him, he seemed to fidget a little but didn’t move from his spot. Up close, he looked very dirty…

His bandages were covered in grime, he had no shoes, and his kimono was torn and in bad shape.

“You were staring at me!”

The boy hid his head and looked away. Why won’t he look at me now? Is he scared, or is it something else?

“Are you hungry? Here, you can have this!”

The boy kept looking at the ground but cupped his hands to receive it.

“Be careful, it’s hot. I burned my tongue.”

He nodded silently. Maybe he can’t speak? 

“I’ll sit next to you.”

I sat down and looked at the ground, keeping this strange boy company.

Mom was taking a while to come back…

“Thank you,” he said in a small, raspy voice.

“You’re welcome!”

Without warning, I felt something warm between my feet. I looked down, and there was blood—so much blood. Now my hands were stained with it.

Everything was covered in blood.

So much blood.

And fire.

There was fire.

The village was empty. And there was no sound.

When I looked up, there was a bonfire… no a pyre* with so many bodies, and from it flowed a river of red and heat.

“Mom-my… Da-ddy…”

There they were, buried under other bodies, burning. The smell of their flesh and hair filled my nostrils and the metallic tang of blood mixed with the acrid stench of burning wood and flesh, making it hard to breathe. Their faces were—

“You shouldn’t see something like this…” said the boy from before, turning me around and placing his hand on my head, pressing me against his chest. “Don’t look.”

In that tormenting and heartbreaking moment, I knew—there were no such things as gods.

The numbness in my senses took over, but as unfortunate as I was, it didn’t last long. Soon after, I was struck by a deep sense of loss, and from within me, no comprehensible words could escape my mouth—only sobs and incoherent murmurs. The loss and pain overtook my tiny self.

And all I could do was cling onto him. as if my life depended on it, to the one who had once been my childhood friend.

I opened my eyes abruptly with that my vision became blurry and unfocused. My face . . . felt wet—was I crying?…

I slept terribly. My body felt tense, my garments were soaked in sweat, my throat was dry, and all the room was spinning and i could sense the ambiance felt hot. Rays of sunlight slipped through the cracks in the sliding door, and the flames in the brazier had already gone out. The atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive, yet humid and warm.  

“What… in hells was that?”  

I'm not proud to accept this, but I was a mess. I pulled my legs up to my chest, trying to ground myself and bring my senses back to reality. I must calm down—my nerves were on edge, and it was harder to breathe as time passed.  

The place felt suffocating and oppressive. My ears were ringing. In a deafening way that wouldn't let my heart calm down, I wanted it to stop—I wanted everything to stop. I can't take it any longer.

I’m. losing. my. mind.

I felt like I was about to lose consciousness at any moment. Helplessly, I was only able to hold my legs close to my chest, feeling a heavy pressure on it.

It was hard to breathe; the air wouldn’t come in. I felt dizzy. I covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut.  

Breathe! , you’re not there.  

That was years ago.  

Inhale .  

My parents,  

Exhale.   

Their bodies,  

Inhale.   

The village,  

Exhale.   

The boy,  

Inhale.   

Sukuna. 

Yes, this is Sukuna’s domain. You’re with him. You’re safe. He’s with you.  

This thought made it easier to calm my fragile mind down. It was like when I was a child—when he was around, I knew everything would be okay.  

No one would bother me.

No one would hurt me.

His presence was comforting though.

Putting myself together, I was able to think much more clearly now. Apparently, my mind had played a cruel trick on me. It had been months since I last dreamed about my parents or what had happened.

I don’t understand why I mixed those two memories.

I don’t get it.

Why, out of all the beautiful memories I have with my parents, did I have to relive that specific one? My mind had now tainted such a lovely memory with something that wasn’t pleasant to remember.

I dragged myself across the wooden floor until I reached a sliding door. I opened it slightly and peeked through the slats. It led to the courtyard, so I decided to apply force so it completely. The sun was high in the sky—apparently, it was already late morning.

My heart still felt sore and running a mile a minute, wasn’t expecting that for sure. The topic of my parents is a painful one—an open wound that won’t ever heal properly. No matter how much time passes, it’s always there, always aching. It’s better to avoid thinking about it as much as possible, so it doesn’t hurt more than it already does.

But I guess, just as you can’t keep a lie hidden forever, painful things also resurface from time to time.And the more I try to bury these memories and feelings, the more they resurface with double the strength and double the sorrow.

I could hear the little birds chirping and singing their lovely melodies. One of them perched on one of the trees surrounding the residence, it was beautiful and charming but my mind … wandered back to my parents. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what had happened, but now, as an adult, I do.

The death of my parents, and most of the adults in the village, it was just a message.

The village where I grew up was a strategic and highly commercial point—One of the lines of villages that travelers had to go through in order to reach Edo. At the time, there were rumors of an army of bandits—or rather, anarchists that claimed they wanted to send a message to the Shogunate; about their stance on foreign influence regarding trading, they saw it as an unacceptable thing to do, despite dealing in military supplies.

And to make themselves heard, they began massive massacres in several communities important to travelers and merchants, or in communities with large farming fields. Unfortunately for me, my village was both of those things.

They killed my parents over something so stupid and trivial as politics.

That was the first time life took away what I loved the most.

But how do you explain all this political context to a child? A child who doesn’t understand why adults fight and watches her parents burn in a pyre, leaving her orphaned, just like so many other children in the region.

Tell me, how do you explain that to a child?

That her family, her home, their warmth—were taken away over something as trivial as “a message”.

Well, I didn’t understand it.

At the time…

Sukuna was the only person that I had by my side, he was the only person that kept me afloat during the worst moment of my life. And it’s something I’ll be grateful for until the end of my days. He, just a child like me, understood my pain and knew this was something I shouldn’t have seen. something deeply wrong.

He held me in his small arms and embraced me for the first time. Despite hating physical contact, he comforted me.

I turned my gaze to the sky, now clear with a deep blue color and small clouds adorning it. I couldn’t stay barricaded in my room, avoiding the outside world and crying myself to exhaustion, no matter how much I wanted to.

I opened the wardrobe and saw that my belongings had been unpacked—four vestments neatly stored.

Sooner or later, I’ll have to buy more clothes… or maybe Uraume could spare me one of the servants’, or some old clothes that are in bad condition. It didn’t matter; I could fix them with a bit of thread and patches.

I didn’t want to use the little money I had left, since I’d hidden half of my savings in Ame’s room for her as a gift. And also this money was meant to somehow (even if only symbolically) repay Sukuna for what he invested in me.

Unfortunately for me, I had to get dressed—not very flashy, to be honest. A white kimono with a navy blue obi was the best of my appearance. I didn’t even have a comb to fix my hair, so my fingers would have to do the job.

With nothing else to do, I left my room. The mansion, though better lit by sunlight, still felt like a labyrinth to me. I tried to remember the hallways from the night before, but it was useless—I didn’t know where I was going.

Although what Uraume said yesterday about “exploring the mansion at my leisure” might have meant I could do whatever I wanted… or that they’d give me a tour.

After a while and opening a few doors, surprise.

I found Sukuna. He was sitting, leaning back in a rather wide chair, reading a scroll. Why does he always look so effortlessly imposing, even when he’s just sitting there? Damn. I also noticed he was wearing a yukata*, though his chest was slightly exposed… Apparently, he has tattoos on his pectorals too, and now, with better lighting, I could take the luxury of examining them in greater detail.

He’s the first man I’ve seen who’s this defined. His body is very well-built, in all the right places, and it seems the tattoos continue down to his hips…

Imagine if I’d walked in while he was changing.

That wouldn’t be bad. Not bad at all.

Let’s stop it right there.

I should be more aware of my surroundings. He’s supposed to be my lord and master. I should be more polite, more delicate, and serve him more courteously.

Besides… Yesterday, I think I overstepped with him. I should apologize.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty—though I can’t really say it’s still morning,” he said with a slight sarcastic tone.

Forget what I said before. He ends up earning my sarcastic responses. Dumbass.

“Good morning, my lord,” I bowed slightly and raised my face to meet his gaze. “May I have the honor to enter your personal chambers?”

“So now you’re being so well-mannered with me?” He scanned me from top to bottom but took his sweet time staring at my face. My eyes feel a little swollen after crying, but I really hope he doesn’t mention it. I don’t have the energy to talk about it… Then he continued reading. “Your request is acceptable. I shall grant you the privilege.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

I sat there, not really knowing what to do… Despite everything, I still felt a little out of place with all of this, and after such an abrupt awakening, I wasn’t in the mood to strike up a conversation.

But, despite the silence, my heart felt content and calm in his presence.

I don’t understand this foolish heart…

I won’t keep being so pathetic and pretending I don’t understand what I truly feel—it’s because I see him as my safe place.

This monstrous man, feared by all and seen as the harbinger of death and chaos.

Is my safe place. By the gods.

“I told you, it’s annoying—that habit of yours.” he said with his eyes still on the paper.

“Uh… What did you say?”

“I told you, did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry, I was lost in thought. Sorry again. Yes, I slept well… thanks for asking.” Sukuna, though he still didn’t look at me, I could see he raised an eyebrow. As if he didn’t believe a word I said, but he didn’t press further.“I’m sorry for barging in so suddenly. I was looking for Uraume.”

“Why are you looking for them?”

“They mentioned they’d give me a tour of the residence!” Though I’m not sure if I misinterpreted that and they left that task to me…

“Fine, wait here then. Uraume will come in a moment.”

Unconsciously, I had gotten so close to him that I could see what he was reading. What can I say? curiosity took the best of me. But was this poetry…?

Yes, it’s true—when I came in yesterday, there was a book of poetry here. the text says:

“The color of this flower
Has already faded away,
While in idle thoughts
My life goes by,
As I watch the long rains fall.”

“You’re reading Ono no Komachi.* I never expected that from you.” I looked at him, and he was already glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a pleasant surprise.”

“What’s wrong with poetry?”

“You’re not the most romantic or sensible person.So it surprises me that you even read her.”

I held his gaze for a moment until Sukuna placed his index finger between my eyebrows and teasingly pushed me away gently.

“Let me seeee,” I said, grabbing his wrist and staring at it intently.

“No. You’re not ‘romantic’ enough to read this. You know, this kind of literature is for cultured people” he said, not bothering to pull his hand away from my grip.

“I’m indeed very cultured and also very romantic! Just for you to know.”

“Oh really? Show me.”

I decided to intertwine our hands in a grip that could almost be described as tender, worthy of lovers. 

“See”

Oh

What I had done hit me all at once. Now, I felt truly embarrassed and couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

I took Sukuna’s hands…

WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!

Damn it.

Play it cool. It's ok.

but oh…

Every time we have even the slightest of touches, it makes me want to melt under his skin, like snow melting the spring sun. I must release my held on his hand but i don't wanna. 

“Look at me”

And so I did. His face looked expressionless but not displeased. Shamelessly, my gaze wandered down to his…his lips—they looked full—and then at his eyes, which were shining. I’ve always liked his eyes; they are such a pretty color, in my opinion.

I suppressed every impulse I had at that exact moment because, otherwise, I’m very sure I would’ve kissed him passionately, as if we were two lovers who hadn’t seen each other in years.

No. But That wasn’t right.

I had to suppress this impulse. Not because Sukuna is my friend.

Not at all—hell no! If he asked me, I’d give him my life if necessary. Giving my body for his enjoyment would be a rather trivial matter, I've done it with men who don't even care about me, so why wouldn't I do it for him? The one who rescued me, who gives me shelter, who feeds me.

But the reason is because i can't make those kinds of indecent advances toward him when it hasn't been requested. I can’t make those kinds of things on him out of the blue, especially when it’s likely not reciprocated.

And I don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position. Besides, just look at yourself—you’re pathetic, disgusting. No respectable man in his right mind would even consider courting me.

I’m also very aware that or rather,being realistic, whether I like it or not, there’s a gap between us. Despite those years of tender friendship, the separation was even greater…

I’m sure he must pity me, and that’s why he feels responsible for my well-being.

I’ve really fallen so low.

I couldn’t even imagine crossing that boundary that divides us. If I dared to do it, there would be no turning back. Things wouldn’t be the same.

And I can’t afford that.

I can’t lose him.

Not again.

You have to behave according to your current situation. You’re nothing more than a courtesan; you can’t throw yourself at people like that. Especially not him.

It’s beyond the limits.

Sukuna reciprocated my grip and placed his hand over mine.I was pleasantly surprised by his silent response.

But why does he make it so hard for me? How can I hold back? Tell me, how to do it? If you look at me with those eyes and return my affections.

“My Lord, did you call for me?” Uraume’s voice echoed in the room, breaking the tension? that had built up.

“Come in,” Sukuna said in a calm tone. Maybe I was overthinking it but maybe all of this was just… filial affection and nothing more.

A little embarrassed, I tried to pull my hand away from Sukuna’s grip, but he didn’t let go.

“Nuh uh. Don’t try to escape now. You got yourself into this”

Uraume looked at us, and for a moment, they seemed surprised, but their face quickly returned to its usual sobriety. It can't be, I feel like a child caught doing something mischievous. They discussed some important matters with Sukuna, which, to be honest, I felt I shouldn’t be listening to. Even though I didn’t know the people involved or understand the context, it was clear to me that this is something rather important. In the end, Sukuna ended up releasing his grip, and I regained my hand. Perhaps it wasn't the best time to stay here, yet I still tried to leave. But Sukuna placed a hand on my shoulder and coaxed me … or rather coerced me into staying in my place. After that, Uraume mentioned it was a good time to take a walk around the residence to start familiarizing myself with the surroundings, and Sukuna decided to join.

The venue was ringed by some trees and a small pond with a single koi fish, but truth be told, the courtyard didn’t have a garden which made it seem blank and empty. Apparently, after walking for a while I had the realization that my room wasn’t as far from Sukuna’s as I initially thought,I just had to walk straight and turn left, and it seems I took the long route to get there..

The kitchen was at the back of the residence, next to the servants’ communal quarters. There were some curious rooms worth mentioning… like an armory, which I didn’t want to know anything about or get anywhere near. Strangely no less because I didn’t have a valid reason for my disdain. Generally, my opinion on weapons is very simplistic—I don’t care about them as long as they’re not pointed at me. But those in particular? I didn’t like them. I didn’t like being near them.

Then there was a room dedicated to archives, another for storage, and so on. Honestly, I stopped paying attention and turned my gaze toward Sukuna, but he was no longer there.

I looked back, and Sukuna was strolling in the opposite direction. I politely asked Uraume if we could pause the tour for a moment because I needed to tell Sukuna something, and they agreed.

I ran to catch up to him—this guy walks so fast. How can someone as big as him be so stealthy?

“Whe- Where… Hold on… Where are you heading out?” I asked exhausted, breathing heavily and panting after a sprint.

“Outside,” Sukuna replied, looking at me strangely. “You really need to improve your physical condition.”

“Rude. Let me be more clear—where are you going?”

“Rude? Not really. It’s a statement. I’m just pointing out the facts. Anyway, I need to step out for a moment. I have some things to take care of.”

“Oh…” We’ve barely spent any time together. He went out yesterday too, and now … today as well. I don’t want him to leave, but I don’t have the right to ask that of him. “I understand. Have a safe trip.”

“Don’t give Uraume a hard time.” he said as he affectionately squeezed my nose.

“I’m not a kid!” While he turned his back on me and returned silence as his response.

After Sukuna left, Uraume continued the tour of the mansion and advised me, as a recommendation, not to go near the annex near the kitchen—for the sake of my “sensitivity.” Apparently, it must be the cold storage or some kind of slaughterhouse. I deeply appreciated their suggestion because, despite not knowing it, they were very right.

I hated when I had to do kitchen duty, specifically when I had to fillet animals or… slaughter them.

Most of the time, Ame or someone else would cover for me because I hated the idea of harming a defenseless creature.

I could handle seeing a person being beaten (if they deserved it), but an animal—such a pure being? No, I couldn’t. I didn’t have the heart for it.

Though I was a hypocrite…

I loved the taste of their meat, but the process of obtaining it? I couldn’t handle that.

So what Uraume said was very accurate, even if they didn’t know the full story. That would be the last place I’d want to visit.

As a final point, they mentioned I was free to do whatever I wanted. They said if I needed anything, I could ask the mansion’s servants, and if I had any issues, I should go directly to them.

I'm impressed by someone as young as them and in the short time I’d known them, I could confidently say they were the type of person with an inflexible character but incredibly attentive to details.

With nothing more to say, they escorted me back to my room and left.

So…

Now I can do whatever I want? It feels good to have free will again. Although, after so many years of being under a strict regime, obligations, and scandals, having “free time” felt more overwhelming than anything. For so much time I longed for this kind of freedom, but now that I have it in the palm of my hand, I don’t yearn for anything and I don’t desire anything. My motivations and aspirations to keep standing against the current were based on the idea of freedom or some sense of belonging with something or someone. But now that I’ve achieved my goal, I can’t help but feel empty, useless, and obsolete. I’ve lost my motivation in life, and I have nothing to do with this newfound freedom because my lost and broken heart can no longer hold or contain any kind of hope or desire beyond lethargy and slumber. My character had solidified into a kind of bitterness and apathy that now, like swampy, muddy sludge, I couldn’t escape from. The vices that came with grief and loss had become my daily routine.

I’ll try to think about what I should do to avoid falling back into negative or unproductive thoughts again…. I think the most urgent thing I needed to do (the only thing, to be honest) was to write to Ame, letting her know I was okay, that I’d arrived safely, and that she shouldn’t worry needlessly about me. Though it would be boring to just write that—if I didn’t have anything else to say, it would be short, dull, and to the point, something like: “Hi, yes, I’m fine. The place is nice and spacious. Sukuna treats me well. I hope you’re not causing trouble.”

Of course not.

So… I think it’d be better to hold off on sending the letter until I have something more interesting to say. Besides, it’s too soon—it hasn’t even been a full day since I arrived. More importantly, if I’m going to send a letter, it should at least be worth the messenger’s fee… I don’t want to make Sukuna spend more money unnecessarily.

Let’s not think about that now. Let another day pass, and then I’ll write that letter.

I could also help with household chores or assist the servants. With a place this big, they must have a hard time keeping everything clean. Surely, if I lend a hand, they might warm up to me—maybe not instantly, but I didn’t want to get on their bad side or cause problems here.

Besides… if I could do something—anything—to keep my mind occupied, I’d take it. I didn’t want to think about anything, and the best way to do that was to bury myself neck-deep in obligations and tasks!

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, miss. But we can’t allow such a thing.”

I had asked several servants in the mansion, and each one gave me an excuse for why I couldn’t help with household chores. Some said, “We’ve already finished,” others said, “We have enough workforce.” But i think this servant was the only one who, perhaps out of exhaustion or simplicity of character, decided to be honest with me.

“I don’t see the problem. Why isn’t it allowed?”

“Perhaps you don’t know it” this girl said in a clearly sarcastic and haughty tone. “ Maybe they didn’t teach you this where you come from, but… Your Grace, you’re a ‘guest.’ We can’t expect guests to do the work of servants.”

Simply put, she had just called me ignorant and a “guest” . And Both assumptions were terribly wrong.

Despite having been a prostitute half of my life. I have been well-educated in various areas of knowledge,I'm not illiterate. Besides, I no longer considered myself a guest because this is now my place of residence.

So, this girl hadn’t just been rude— also dismissive.

I was only trying to be kind and cooperative. But that doesn’t matter. She’s not obligated to like me, and I respect that. 

However,

I didn’t come here to be insulted.

So, I refrained from responding to her comments, but I memorized her face. The most notable thing was her freckles and long face. Although I’m not quick to anger, I tend to be incredibly resentful, and I wouldn’t miss the chance to repay the offense done to me.

I returned her a smile, but it was nothing more than a minimal courtesy, bordering on being forced, and in the same tone, I thanked her for her honesty.

And I was very sure I’d bring this up with Sukuna in some way or another.

Frustrated by my failed attempts, I retraced my steps, wandering around the place, thinking and thinking. I came to the conclusion that if they wouldn’t let me help willingly, then fine. I’d find a way to entertain myself—whether they liked it or not.

Because I refused to stay in my room without any minimal occupation or task. Beyond my high spirits, a small part of me knew that if I stagnated in the comforts of idleness and laziness, my mind would start scheming in such ways… the things I feared I might act on.

I’d never spent so much time alone before. There had always been someone around. Being in absolute solitude meant I had certain freedoms.

Freedoms that, in a moment of doubt or confusion… I didn’t even dare to think about what it could make me do.

But everything prior to this moment had drained my energy, so I decided to go to the place that had caught my attention the most: the archive room.

It wasn’t in the best condition, and it wasn’t cleaned very often. It was a small, very simple room. There were wooden shelves, raw and unvarnished, with splintered and rough edges. The walls looked dull but not dirty or moldy, though I did notice some cobwebs hanging from them. Some scrolls were damaged or brittle, but most seemed in good condition. So, I resolved that this room would become one of my tasks: keeping the place well-ventilated and dust-free, organizing the scrolls and booklets, and, in moments of leisure, why not? Reading.

But, despite finding a new obligation, it wouldn’t be appropriate to start it today.

Why not? Because I’d developed an aversion to closed, poorly lit spaces.

It would be a joke and a contradiction to my character if, having the freedom to wander aimlessly or lie under the shade of an elm, I chose to stay in this dark, cramped room.

I wasn’t particularly inclined to do so, at least not for now. Now, two of my entertainments had been discarded, but reading under an elm still sounded like a pretty appealing idea. Maybe Sukuna could lend me something from his private library, but since I couldn’t find much else to do, wandering around the mansion’s surroundings would help ease my worries.

Luckily, I found a spot under a young oak tree with good shade, thick with weeds sprouting beneath it. I looked up at its canopy—it wasn’t very large. But at that moment, a childish urge bubbled up in me to climb that tree, reach one of its branches, and sit there, letting the hours pass.

Just like I’d done it so many times in my childhood.

Did I still have the agility I’d treasured as a child?

The years had not only stiffened my heart but also my limbs. It was likely I no longer had the same effortlessness, but I wouldn’t know unless I tried.

At least that would give me an answer.

…

Well, this was harder than I remembered , without a doubt. The limited mobility offered by the kimono only made my mission more challenging, so I decided to loosen the obi and expose my legs to the world. My grip trembled, as did my arms, but a stubbornness had taken hold of me and wouldn’t let me give up on the silly desire to climb this damn tree.

With much effort and pain, I managed to reach a branch that felt sturdy enough to hold my full  weight and I sat on it.

From up there, it didn’t seem like I’d done much. It only looked slightly high, the rough bark of the oak scratched my palms and scrapes on my thighs were definitely badges of my efforts, and these were rewarded.

I could see over the fence, the vast expanse of forest surrounding us. The treetops swayed lazily, their leaves dancing and rustling in the warm summer breeze. I also noticed the chirping of birds and a small village at the foot of the valley. This beautiful landscape was framed by a clear, deep blue sky. It was truly a stunning view, and peace finally reigned in my restless, troubled heart.

The peace I felt up there was fleeting, but for now, it was enough to mitigate the storm inside me.

Everything was bewitching and ephemeral.

After Uraume’s report mentioning some paramilitary sightings near my domain, I knew the most appropriate course of action would be to patrol my borders to gather information and analyze their movements.

Judging by the trajectory of their route, it seemed they were passing through, and most were heading southwest.

Something interesting was about to happen in the capital—not because I cared about politics, but because it was a constant source of training and chaos. Surely some evil sorcerer was up to no good in Heian-kyo and causing trouble.

Perhaps because of whatever was happening in the imperial capital, no duels had come my way.

But most of the movements were just ordinary humans, not sorcerers. So there was no need to keep monitoring them as long as they didn’t cause trouble. Still, I wouldn’t let them pass without a price.

If they want to cross my land, they must pay my toll.

I suppose I should increase my fee though, now that I have an extra mouth to feed.

Speaking of which, should I hunt for her again today? Uraume didn’t mention needing more food, and she didn’t eat much yesterday.

I shouldn’t even be thinking about these things—it’s stupid and a waste of time. If she’s hungry, she’ll eat what’s given to her, and if not, she can starve.

This is ridiculous. She shouldn’t even be here in the first place.

“Are you hungry? I can share my food with you.”

It’s just reciprocity.

That’s all.

*

Upon returning to the residence, Uraume was the one who greeted me. I noticed a slight annoyance in them, and they mentioned having looked for my little companion but confessed they couldn’t find her. Where are you hiding? Has someone scolded you? You had a habit of hiding after feeling embarrassed or upset, so those childhood tendencies were still deeply rooted in you.

Did the servants frighten you?

I knew you were inside the mansion—I knew it very well. Because I could feel your energy within the grounds. I exhaled deeply. This was unacceptable. Now I had to play babysitter to a grown-ass woman and pull you out of whatever hole you’d crawled into. 

I didn’t have to search for long. I must admit it was quite easy, to be honest. They just hadn’t bothered to look in the right places or pay attention to their surroundings. Your presence was minimal, but not imperceptible.

You weren’t hidden—you were in plain sight, just silent. Sitting on the branch of an oak tree, which was slightly taller than me. I approached you and noticed you had left your sandals at the base of the tree, and your bare feet swayed gently. Your legs were slightly exposed, showing a bit of your thighs, which looked reddened, and your face was slightly flushed—you’d gotten sunburned. Despite being an adult, you still behaved so much like a child. How many hours have you spent sitting here? You were completely absorbed in your thoughts, humming a tune I didn’t recognize. Your eyes looked slightly glassy—I could tell since this morning. You seemed troubled by something I couldn’t decipher, but I had no intention of probing further. After all, you shouldn’t be here. And I shouldn’t be tied to you.

But despite this, we were both stuck in this annoying situation, and in my case, without clear solutions to my problems. And you…

You were looking at the landscape. No.

You were admiring it.

As if…

As if you might not see it tomorrow.

Were your duties in that dirthole so demanding that you couldn’t even see the sky?

You still had that crushed look on your face.

As if you were about to burst into tears.

What a sensitive playmate I’ve acquired.

I slightly raised my left arm to take your foot in my hand, pulling you out of your reverie and making you aware of my presence. You were startled, as expected, but you didn’t pull away from my touch. Instead, you looked down and met my gaze.

And you smiled at me…

At me.

You smiled at me.

Now I understand why I couldn’t look away from you when I was just a boy.

If someone as beautiful as her looks at you like that, full of affection and warmth, it’s logical that you can’t look away. But I’m no longer a boy.

So why can’t I stop staring at you like a damned fool?

“Hey!” you replied, smiling and tilting your head softly.

“Hey,” my fingers danced along the sole of your foot.

“How long have you been back?”

“Not long,” I moved my grip to your ankles—they were thin and definitely fragile. If I applied pressure, I’m sure they’d break.

“Welcome home. What did you do today?”

I must admit, it’s strange to be welcomed by someone other than Uraume.

“I have a better question. What are you doing up there? Did someone scold you?”

“Ha. ha. ha, nothing like that. I was just looking at the scenery. It’s been a quite a while since I’ve had the chance to do that, you know? So—” I slowly moved my hand from ankle to legs, glaring the surface. The skin beneath my touch was smooth and flawless, meaty and juicy, I'm sure I would enjoys digging and indulging into it, tearing and leaving some imperfections on ths immaculate flesh. My action seemed to have startled you or because the skin at my touch broke out in goosebumps.

“Why did you stop talking?”

“A-As I was saying” She stumbled over her words “I didn’t want to waste such a beautiful day staying inside… When I was trapped there, they didn’t allow us to step foot outside, we didn’t even have days off, so I rarely got to see the outdoors.”

Did they treat you so poorly that you couldn’t even see the sky?… 

“I see…” It’s best if I don’t indulge in this any further “ And how did you get up there?” I could imagine how you’d done it, given the redness and chafing on your thighs. It must have been difficult to climb in that outfit.

“I climbed it!.”

“All by yourself? Well, now the question is…” I moved closer and positioned myself between your thighs, placing the tips of your feet on my shoulders. “How will you get down? I’m afraid I won’t help you this time.” Your face twisted in an odd expression, and you looked embarrassed. The redness on your face only became more apparent.

“I didn’t ask for your help…” You averted my gaze.

“I know, and I’m preemptively refusing your request.”

“Move aside! I’ll do it myself.”

“What happened to the manners you had this morning?”

You shot me a furtive glance, clearly annoyed, which I must admit improved my mood. I stepped back and placed my lower arms on my hips while crossing my upper arms. “Alright, give it a shoot.”

I saw that you tried to use the trunk as support and lift yourself off the branch, but it seen that the legs were numb, and by the trembling of your limps you lacked balance. You were struggling, thats for sure and then your eyes at me as if pleading for help, but not directly asking for it.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I told you I wouldn’t help this time.”

You grumbled and continued clinging tightly to the tree trunk, but you misplaced one foot and slipped, falling all the way to the ground.

“How was the landing? How does the ground taste?”

“Oh, Shut up, you’re just making it hurt more. Owwwwhhh!”

“You sound like a wounded raccoon, whining like that.”

“Couldn’t you have compared me to a prettier animal?” You tried to stand up. “Ouch, it huuuurts, you’re really meaaaaaaan.”

“For not helping you out of a situation you put yourself in? don’t think so.”

I approached you and knelt to be on your level. You looked at the ground, almost in shame. “Can you get up?” You didn’t meet my eyes.

“Would it be too much to ask for your help?”

“Yes.” I picked you up, resting your weight on my shoulder as if dragging you, but I supported your weight in my arms to make you comfortable.

“This feels familiar.” 

“Don’t even mention it. You used to climb trees here and there, without stopping and then couldn’t get down, and when you inevitably fell, you’d cry and beg me to carry you home.”

“and you always carried me on your back. Saying ‘stop whining, you're being such a baby ’”

“And you always insisted you weren’t crying, but the moment you were on my back, the tears would flow.”

“...”

“This time, I’ll let you cry as well. I won’t look.” 

There were no tears or sobs, but your breathing hitched, and you clung tightly to my clothes, hiding your face in my neck. You didn’t cry like before, but it was clear the fall wasn’t the reason for your trembling. The pain from the fall wouldn’t make you shake like that. I’m sure it was something else you hadn’t told me. If only I had a heart or were human, I’d try to comfort you and question about your state of mind. 

But it was useless because I couldn’t understand your tears, and I wasn’t meant to understand you.

Chapter Text

“Don’t. Fucking. Say. It.”

“I’m full…” I said as I avoided his gaze and kept it fixed on the floor while trying to adjust my sore bottom on the ice-filled cushion Uraume gave me, searching for a comfortable position to be in.

“You haven’t even finished half of your food.”

“But I…” Well, I can’t eat as much as him, and my portions, though smaller, are still considered quite generous. Delicious, yes. But it was too much.

“Uraume told me that you didn't eat all day long” He frowned, and understood I shouldn’t argue further, but seeing him annoyed over trivial things made me feel a little smug.

“ Hehe .” I covered my mouth with the sleeve of my kimono, trying to hide my grin. He was right—I hadn’t eaten today, but it wasn’t on purpose or out of malice. I just hadn’t been very hungry. Yesterday’s meal had been enough to satisfy me, and the memory of my parents being burned certainly didn’t make me want to eat anything. So I tried to drink a little sake to relax my muscles and attempt to sleep early.

"You're impossible" he said, his voice low and lead with frustration that's for sure. Before the cup could touch my lips, he reached over and snatched my sakazuki* , drinking from it in one smooth motion. My face flushed, and I quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the food. But my fingers trembled slightly, betraying my composure.

Why did he have to do that? It wasn’t just the act itself—it was the way he did it, so casually, as if it meant nothing. But a sakazuk i wasn’t just any cup. Why is this cup even here in the first place?. It was meant for ceremonies. Drinking from someone else’s cup was already something … intimate. It wasn’t something you did lightly, not unless you were making a statement. 

Sukuna must know it right?... Right?*

His expression was unreadable, but the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were holding back a smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Why do you always have to be so difficult?" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Me? Difficult?" he replied, his tone dripping with mock innocence. 

It's just a cup. Pull yourself together, it’s just that. Calm down. I glared at him, my face still reddened.

He leaned back, crossing his lower arms, and for a moment, his gaze lingered on me.

For God's sake, why doesn't he stop looking at me like that?

Let’s get back to the topic.

“I can’t make that big of a change out of the sudden in my diet. I’m not used to eating like this. It’s too much.”

“I’m done.” He slammed the cup on the table. “Starve to death if you want, then.”

That was just rude of him. It really doesn’t seem that this mountain of a man could be so unpredictable. Just a moment ago, he let me cry on his shoulder and carried me here with what I think was care and tenderness.

And now he’s telling me to fuck off and starve to death.

quite a contrast.

Funny, how men always say “women were the fickle and neurotic ones.”

they are worst.

“My lord,” I said, my voice strained with frustration and pain—perhaps that’s why my patience had worn so thin. “I’m less than half your size. OF COURSE I’LL EAT LESS THAN YOU!”

Uraume, who had been silently observing us throughout this exchange, noticed the tension escalating. For the sake of everyone present, they decided to take a more diplomatic approach and stepped in.

“It’s my fault, Lord Sukuna. I’m accustomed to serving large portions, so I overlooked the lady’s needs. I’ll adjust the portions better. Miss, I must apologize to you, as I’m still not used to your diet. Please allow me to correct my mistake.”

“Uraume, don’t take on responsibilities that aren’t yours. It’s not your duty to answer for someone who wastes food.”

“Indeed, Uraume,” I replied irritably, and kind of pissed off “I agree with your lord. You shouldn’t apologize for that. If someone was as perceptive as you, they’d surely understand—that I’m not ungrateful, it’s just that I can’t eat as much as him.”

The room was now filled with a sort of anticlimactic tension, with neither side willing to back down.

So, Uraume did the next most logical thing. “I think… it’s best to call it a night and end dinner here”

Still seated, I thanked Uraume for the meal. They nodded in acknowledgment, but I could sense that deep down, they were genuinely happy when I complimented them. I really didn’t want to move—Because of the pain that still lingered, moving would only make it hurt more.

Uraume helped me to get on my feet and urged me to let them know if the pain persisted.

Walking hurt a little, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll survive, I told myself, trying to ignore the pain. 

I hadn’t expected Sukuna to escort thought, especially after our earlier argument. I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help glancing at him out of the corner of my eye every now and then.

And I noticed… he was also sneaking glances at me. His orbs would flicker in my direction, quick and deliberate, before darting away as if he hadn’t been looking at all. I think he was still a little annoyed—his jaw was set, and his shoulders were tense—but there was something else in his expression, something. Curiosity, maybe? Or perhaps he was trying to make sense of my emotional outburst from earlier. Whatever that was, I didn’t want to dwell on it. I definitely didn’t want to talk about it—about how I’d cried (just a little) on his shoulder. The memory alone was enough to make me feel ashamed of myself.

I saw him open his mouth, his lips parting as if he were about to say something, and panic surged through me. I couldn’t let him bring it up. So I cut him off, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Why are you following me?” I snapped, limping determinedly.

“I’m not following you, idiot. We’re going the same way” he replied, his tone dry and straightforward.

“I see.”

Apparently, my out-of-place comment had worked! because Sukuna no longer seemed willing to engage in conversation. However, I noticed his pace was slower than usual. Almost. Just barely. It made me think he was slowing down to keep me company, especially now that it was getting dark.

“Where are you heading up to?” Suddenly, he stopped and spoke in a mocking tone.

“Isn’t it obvious? My room” I replied, trying to match his sarcasm.

“Now, sarcasm? That’s the second time. I’ve already warned you about this. Be careful with that mouth of yours. The third time, you’ll take full responsibility for your actions and what I’ll do.”

“I beg your pardon, My lord? Did you stop me just to scold me or…?” I said, clearly annoyed, Is he trying to intimidate me?. I thought he’d outgrown that brutish behavior of his. Guess not.

“Your room is right here, big dummy.” He grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me towards a door that, to be honest, looked exactly like all the others.

“Oh.” That was the only thing my mind could process while Sukuna was touching me, everytime he touched me It was like something inside me had stopped working.

“Don’t you remember it from today’s tour?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s normal to make mistakes… I’m not used to being here” I replied, trying to sound indifferent.

“Remember this, your room is before mine. See the hallway in front of your door?”

I nodded.

“Well,” he continued, “if you follow it and take a right, the first room will be mine.”

“Why do I need to know where your room is…?” Responding a bit sarcastic while keeping a slight doubt in my tone.

“In case you have nightmares and need to come running to see me, like the crybaby you are” he said, clearly mocking me.

“As if!” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “Well, this doesn’t help me locate myself at all! There are so many hallways that it’s hard to tell one from another, especially at night.”

“Don’t worry, tomorrow I’ll have them draw a big raccoon in the hallway so you’ll remember it,” he said, letting go of me and walking away towards his room.

“Don’t. You. Dare” I called him out after he left, feeling my face heat up. He will take my humiliation to another step.

 I still don't get why it is the ‘raccoon’ of all animals. 

“Try me” he replied without turning his head around, disappearing into the dimly lit hallway.

“Good night to you too” I muttered, though he didn’t even bother to return my farewell.

I slid the door, fully intending to be enveloped by clean sheets and a quiet room as I entered. But it was just as I had left it this morning—a complete mess. The servants hadn’t bothered to take the time or care to tidy up “their guest’s” room.

Screw them.

I peeled off the layers of clothing from my body and noticed that my kimono had gotten smothered with soil. 

“Just perfect”

As I looked around the room, it hit me—I had nothing to wear to embrace the night. No nightgown, no robe. I hadn’t been provided with any sleepwear, and the thought of sleeping in my day clothes felt uncomfortable, almost suffocating. 

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Well, it’s not like anyone’s going to see me," I told myself, trying to muster some semblance of resolve.

I could always sleep naked. It wasn't really a big deal or anything strange for me—it was more of a practical solution, given the heat of the season and the lack of clothing.

It is what it is.

Speaking of clothing, I’d probably have to wash my own clothes too, so… I should be more careful about where I sit to avoid having to struggle so much.

Night had already swallowed the residence, and the darkness was filled with the sounds of crickets and cicadas. But despite the tranquility, my mind couldn’t settle in. Maybe sharpening my hairpin would help calm my senses, which were still heightened from the day’s events. I didn’t want to light the room’s brazier to illuminate it, too much of a hassle and I didn’t have any candles either, so I’d have to make do with the moonlight. I forced the sliding door open to let a bit of light in.

I rummaged through the room, growing increasingly desperate to have it in my hands, until I finally found it tucked away at the back of the closet, guarded by its decorative box and sharpening stone.

Its cold, metallic touch soothed me. It was the only familiar thing I had with me, something that had been by my side for a long time, giving me a strange sense of comfort.

I ran the porous stone over the steel surface, slowly and repeatedly. But even though my hands were busy, my mind … wasn’t.

It wandered back to those painful, unproductive thoughts. The grief and loss really had turned me into an empty husk, a poor, deformed aberration of my former self and a pathetic attempt of a human being. I’m sure my father would be ashamed of me if he saw me like this.

But now, it wasn’t just those anguished feelings clouding my mind. I was also becoming a burden to those around me—more specifically, to Sukuna and Uraume.

To my former friend, for burdening him with my tears and allowing me, out of affection or a sense of duty, to vent in a way that should never have happened in the first place. I always had once prided myself on a level of emotional control that couldn’t be unbroken, not by the hardest blow or the greatest offense. But just a few words from that man had me sobbing like a child. How pathetic of me.

As for Uraume, for making them waste provisions and food they had put so much effort and care into preparing—they must be fed up with me, even though I’ve only been here a day. I’ve made them work twice as hard, and their food wasn’t even given the dignity of being fully eaten. I’d be upset with me as well if I were in their place.

You’re nothing but a bundle of problems, a dead weight.

Well, none of this is helping me.

I looked at my hands and decided to test if my efforts had paid off. I pricked my finger with the sharp tip of the hairpin, feeling a sting and slight pain. A drop of blood began to form at the tip of my finger. My blood. Without taking my eyes off my finger, a murky, dark amber pearl had pooled in my hand. Several drops had already stained the wooden floor of the room. 

Had my parents felt pain in their final moments? In my heart, I hope they did not—that their deaths were quick and painless. But in the pyre, I could see their faces grimaced in a painful expression. Surely, they must have felt unbearable agony.

Perhaps by some stroke of luck or divine absolution, I was spared the sight of them exhaling their last breath.

And I’m here.

Complaining over their absence and feeling disregarded and defeated, when I haven’t even suffered an ounce of what they endured. I’m disgusting , not only am I nagging and dragging over my own filth but I’m also a source of trouble and inconveniences to those around me, as if that wasn’ enough already. 

I should die and finish everything.

…

No, this isn’t the best time to sort through my thoughts about my state of mind or that fateful day—at least not at night, under its ghostly scrutiny light.

Under the sun and its warmth—that would be the perfect time to remember that fateful day. Maybe it would help me from sinking deeper into my own misery and finally close that chapter of my life.

The pain and the sting had pulled me out of my meditative state. I licked the wound until it stopped bleeding. Maybe if it hurt more I’d be able to atone for being a complete scum and a hindrance… Yes, that’s what I deserve . They suffered so much because of me, if I made it hurt more and my pain was equal to theirs maybe then I wouldn't have such a feeble excuse for feeling so pathetic. 

No. Stop it.

I shook my head, as if I could physically dislodge the memories threatening to surface. Not now, I told myself firmly. Not here. The night was no ally to clarity; it only amplified the chaos swimming in my mind. If I started unraveling the threads of my thoughts now, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop. And I couldn’t afford to lose myself, not yet.

I placed the hairpin on the delicate desk and stepped away from it, as it wasn’t helping me avoid these thoughts. Besides, staying awake wouldn’t do me any good either, even with what little rationality I had left, I knew rest would be a better course of action.

Aching and heavy-hearted, I crawled into my futon and let the gentle breeze slipping into the room embrace me, along with the sounds of the night and the soft touch of fabric covering my whole body.

It didn’t feel like much time had passed since I closed my eyes, but one thing was clear: there was someone in my room.

I could sense someone’s presence. Maybe it was because I left the door slightly open… but I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to do that…

No servant in their right mind would enter the room of their terrifying master’s guest. I’d like to believe no one like that exists.

But over my best judgment. It seems someone failed to receive the message.

And they weren’t being careful about it.

No.

I could feel the rumble of their footsteps circling my bedding, pacing back and forth, while I kept my expression blank, trying to pretend I was still asleep.

Sleeping naked today wasn’t a good idea.

Well, I also didn’t think a pervert would sneak into the room—that’s for sure.

That person stopped pacing around, and I felt their presence looming over me. Fear, helplessness was taking over my senses, and my heart began to ignite as if it were ready to explode.

but something else bubbled inside me.

and creep from my raw insides

Rage.

I’d let this bastard get close enough to dig my nails into his eyes and take it out of its suckets. I just needed him to come closer.

Come on, just a little more, you little shit.

Come closer so I can feast in your blood.

“Are you going to keep pretending you’re asleep?”

Wait.

That voice…

It can’t be.

I opened my eyes wide open. It must have been late at night because the moonlight filtered into the room, faintly illuminating everything inside—and at my feet, there he was.

Sukuna?

What was he doing here? Unable to respond, I only thought about adjusting my posture and covering myself. A shiver ran down my spine as I noticed all his eyes were fixed on one point.

Me.

All his eyes were centered on me.

All his attention, every movement, every breath.

It was overwhelming yet flattering. One of his hands lifted part of the haori covering my skin and slid along my bare legs. The skin-to-skin contact was definitely overwhelming.

Despite feeling the imperfections and roughness of his hands, they were strangely welcome for me.

His sudden caresses made my skin become overexcited, and erupt goosebumps all over my body. I'm not usually very fond or sensitive to touch, but with this man, I feel like a little girl who's just having her first kiss—quite nervous but at the same time expectant.

Aching?.

“Look at you, like this. Flickering for a few touches.”

I couldn't face him; I felt so ashamed and self-conscious.

But.

 If Sukuna really wanted to... have intercourse with me, I wouldn't object at all.

But damn, why did I feel so nervous? It's not even your first time, girl.

Get it together

Sukuna stopped being so gentle and careful, and he uncovered myself in a swift motion, leaving me completely exposed to him—and really exposed, I was.

"Already waiting for me?"

I bet my face was flushed all the way, because my face started to burn.

Without being able to answer, he brought his face closer to mine, examined it as if it were something new, and then, so obviously, he slowly dragged his gaze to my collarbone and my heaving chest.

Then he turned his gaze back to me, smiling—or rather smirking—and without giving me the chance to ask or process about this whole situation, he stole my lips in a frantic and needy attack, as if I was going to disappear. I felt his hunger. 

He nibbled my lips and he dipped his tongue from one side to the other as he explored the cavity of my mouth with his tongue. I felt dizzy while one of his hands stroked my tits, and another of his arms gripped my thigh tightly, possessively.

Where did you learn this? 

I could feel the desperation, the yearning?. No man had ever taken me with that sense of need before…

with urgency.

He broke the kiss abruptly, just as he had started it, and placed his forehead on mine with both of our breaths hitching.

He look disheveled, agonizing and coather by desire, It was a side of him that I didn't know existed. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, how much I’ve waited for you .” His lower arms took a hold of my hips and trapped me beneath him. “I need you. I need to feel you.”

I couldn’t hide my shivers. What was happening? A few moments ago, he was angry with me, and now he wants me??

Or rather, my body…

That 's…

That 's.. fine.

I can do it. 

I can do it for him.

As if reading my mind, his upper arm gently clutched my jaw and forced me to look at him. I really didn’t know this side of him—much more primitive and demanding.

“I want you here , to be present when I touch you and make you shudder. You don’t need to think about anything else but me.”

He captured my lips together again, but now softer and  more tender, yet demanding.

always demanding.

“Only me. Right now. On you, caressing every. Inch. Of. You.”

“Sukuna, i—” I finally managed to break the silence that had trapped me. I couldn’t fully understand the situation, but you know what? Screw it. Now I want it.

No.

I wanted him.

Right now.

All over me.

Screaming over.

And over.

Again.

Fucking me relentlessly.

Until I could feel no more pain, no more misery—only pleasure.

“My body… it’s yours. At your disposal.” I wanted him to fuck me.

“No.” He said, his tone hoarse but serious not loosening his grip on me. If anything, he tightened it.

“No? What do you mean by—”

“I will have you as a whole.” He murmured softly and slurred his words. One of his hands that was on my thigh slid dangerously close to the most intimate and sensitive part of me. “I want EVERYTHING of you. I want your body.” He began to caress me torturously slowly, dragging his fingers against me. “Your mind.” Now he was dragging his words against my lips while raising my hips to give him better access. “And your spirit.”

Now, because of his torturous friction—which felt unnecessarily drawn out—I had the overwhelming desire to grind against his fingers.

And allow him to work on me.

“All of you, to pry, to consume, to—”

 “by the gods! Fuck!” a spasm began to pass through my body.

“Something to say, Princess?”

Fuck, a pet name now? He got me there.

I felt intoxicated by his presence. I didn't know how much I needed it. Needed him.

“Keep… doing it”

“Hmmm…” he started playing with my clit in tortuous and slow circles “I can go on… but only if you beg”

He brought his finger closer to my throbbing opening, just to tempt me. This guy was the devil.

But luckily for me I really had no shame to feel and I didn't mind begging. 

“Yes! Please…” say in a gasp “Just…FUCK ME, PLEASE? End this torture!”

“You’re no fun… this is the best part, watching you squirm underneath me.”

“Sukuna, please…”

“WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU WANT, WOMAN?”

“Huh? You… how? Wha—”

Suddenly, there was Sukuna, his eyes half-open and his expression one of pure irritation, whipping open the door to my room. He looked like he’d just been dragged out of bed—which, given the situation, he probably had.

“HUH? WHY ARE YOU MAKING THAT STUPID ASS FACE AT ME? YOU’RE THE ONE FUCKING SQUAWKING AND SCREAMING!”

“Screaming?” But he… was on top of me? His sudden change in demeanor left me even more confused and horny.

“YEAH,” he sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You keep moaning, saying, ‘Oh Sukuna. please,Sukuna..’ Well, all your whining woke me up, and now I’m here. So I’m asking again, what the hell do you want?”

He’d woken up because of me?

“Oh…”

Oh.

I’m screwed.

I’m so screwed.

“Oh? That’s all you’re going to say?” He livid. Well… I don't blame him. If someone had woken me up like this, I’d be upset too.

One moment, I was in heaven's doors, and now I’d been thrown into hell.

Hell with four arms.

“Uhm… really, nothing… nothing…”

“You…” His eyes narrowed, and then he seemed to notice something. “Why are you wrapped in my hakama? Wait…” He rubbed his eyes and then refocused them, his gaze sharpening. “Are you… naked?”

“Uhm… Well, this is my sheet now, and I was hot,” I stammered, immediately regretting my choice of words.

“You were hot ?” He looked at me with a snarky expression, raising an eyebrow.

“NO. I mean, it was HOT!” I clarified, my face burning. Stop talking, for fuck’s sake! You’re digging your own grave.

“Yeah… right,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “You know it’s too early to argue about this with you. Just tell me what the hell you want, and I’ll go back to sleep.”

“NOTHING!” I blurted out, my voice louder than intended.

“Good, screw you then,” he muttered, turning to leave.

As charming as ever.

he was already on his way out, about to slide the door closed.

“WAIT!” I say almost desperate.

he turned around to look back at me, his expression showed that his patience was wearing thin.Very thin. He looked at me, mad. I really hated when he was angry, he was very VERY scary. 

“Can you bring me a change of clothes..?” The embarrassment was apparent in my voice, barely above a whisper. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him directly, my gaze fixed on the floor as heat crept up my neck.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he simply turned on his heel and left me there, my cheeks burning for the adrenaline before. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me or if he was just ignoring me, but either way, the silence felt heavier than any words he could have spoken.

A few moments later, he returned, holding a black yukata and a white obi. Without a word, he tossed them at me, the fabric landing in my bedding. I opened my mouth to say something—thank him, maybe, or ask him what he had heard —but before I could get a word out, he slammed the door shut and was gone.

I laid there for a moment, staring at the closed door, the yukata pooled at me. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

"Well, that’s one way to start the day," I thought bitterly, taking the yukata. The fabric was soft, almost luxurious, but a bit big for me. Were these his clothes? For a brief moment, I wondered why he’d chosen something so nice. But I shook my head, dismissing the thought.  

Wait. 

If Sukuna heard me… and he’s right across the hallway… EVERYONE HEARD ME. THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING TO ME. 

PLEASE, EARTH, SWALLOW ME WHOLE.

SOMEONE. 

NO

NO, I WON’T LEAVE MY ROOM.

Feeling ashamed and defeated as I changed into the yukata, memories of the dream came flooding back to my mind, unbidden. The images were so vivid, almost too real—Sukuna and me, tangled together in a way that made my face burn just by thinking about it. 

Had I really dreamed about him and me doing…?

I shook my head, as if I could physically dislodge the thought. 

No. 

No way. 

That didn’t happen. 

I pressed my hands to my cheeks, willing the heat to fade. What the hell is wrong with me? I scolded myself. 

He would never, EVER, do something like that with you…

The certainty of that thought should have been comforting, but instead, it left me feeling hollow, a strange ache settling in my chest.

I think…

The doubt crept in before I could stop it, and I hated myself for it. Sukuna was… well, Sukuna.

He was unpredictable, and often downright rude. But he was also undeniably… a man now. The thought made my stomach twist in a way I couldn’t quite explain. I’d known him as a child, but now and somewhere along the way, he’d changed. The boy I once knew was gone, replaced by someone taller, sharper, and far more dangerous man.

Now that I think about it… My mind wandered, despite my best efforts to rein it in. 

Surely he…

I cut the thought off before it could fully form, my face burning even hotter. No. Stop it. This is ridiculous.

But what if…

Men rarely hold back their impulses, and Sukuna showed me even from a young age that he would take whatever he wanted. 

He must already know the feeling and the heat of another person's body…

You know it damn well. Stop thinking about that and prying into other people’s private matters.

I also realized, wow, I was sweating a lot. But a particular dampness had pooled between my thighs…

I’m wet…

And not from the heat of the room.

 Unbelievable 

I must control my impulses too...  

I tied the obi around my waist with more force than necessary, as if the physical action could somehow anchor me back to reality. But the memories of the dream lingered, stubborn and insistent, like a shadow I couldn’t shake out of neither my mind nor my body.  

Get a grip of yourself for fuck’s sake. I told myself firmly. You’re just tired. Overwhelmed. That 's all this is.

 But even as I tried to convince myself, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart raced or the way my thoughts kept circling back to him, no matter how hard I tried to push them away.

I tried to lie back down in bed, half attempting to fall back asleep and another part of me wishing to continue the dream.  

Chapter Text

A dozen days have passed since this new tenant of mine has settled into my dwelling . And to my utter frustration, I haven’t made any progress in my research during all that time.  

I’ve considered experimenting with third parties to test the limits of the binding vow, but I still think that this approach is quite reckless, even for me.  

I don’t plan to willingly chain myself to someone new just to escape another yoke. Better devil you know than the one you don’t, I suppose.  

I’ve thought about just dropping the matter altogether, since the only obligation and restriction is being bound together and nothing more.  

That small detail doesn’t clash with my life philosophy or ambitions.  

And she’d better keep it that way. Because the moment that thin line is crossed… 

there’ll be no walking out alive.

Of course, the easiest way that would end things once and for all would be: killing her and stop beating around the bush.  

It’s the simplest and most practical solution for everyone here.  

No.  

It shouldn’t be an option but rather the solution for this predicament.

I have an excellent reason to kill her.  

But I find myself in a dilemma.  

My body tenses at the mere thought of doing it.  

I tried it several times

This bond between us?

 This thing’s a nuisance.

It's a festering, irritating clusterfuck.

That I can't get rid of.

But with only one glance at her, I've been pulled in. gravitating in its space. 

Pathetic I know it.

But hands betray me, i can't hold the urge of tracing her softness like a starved man.

For the first time, I’ve found myself in a dichotomy.

 “What… are you doing?” It took me about half a day to find this girl because… well, I was  bored, and it felt strange not sensing her cursed energy. More than strange, it made me uneasy. As if she’s trying to hide her presence from me.

Something I’ve noticed she does on purpose—eats in her room, changes direction when she hears my footsteps, doesn’t interact during dinners, and overall feels so distant. 

Do you also express that through your energy?  

It’s a pretty significant change, one that I can’t help but notice. Just the other day, she was crying on my shoulder.

her vulnerability laid bare in a way that felt almost too intimate . 

Her tears had been quiet since then, but the weight of the silence had been impossible to ignore. 

Hell

I’d rather hear her sobs than this silence.

Was it something I did? At that moment, I didn’t know what to do —comfort wasn’t exactly my forte—but I’d stayed! anyway, if only because leaving felt like the worse option.

I stayed.

Now, though, she’s different.

 The tears are gone.

Replaced by a cold apathy that feels almost worse. 

She doesn’t even look at me.

doesn’t speak to me unless absolutely necessary, and when she does, her words are clipped, devoid of any warmth.

 It’s like a wall has gone up between us, one I don’t know how to breach—or if I even should.

Maybe this is for the best.

Silence is better.

Indifference is easier to handle than  vulnerability.

But the truth be told.

I can’t quite put my finger on why, but the shift feels… wrong?. Like something’s been lost, and I’m not quite sure how to get it back.

Maybe this is for the best, though it doesn’t sit right. 

Whatever we had. it's gone now. 

Not my problem. 

She’s not here to be anything more than a inconvenience 

But even as I try to convince myself, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve messed something up—that I’ve let something slip through my fingers without even realizing it.

“Hello…” she replied, starting, sitting on the floor surrounded by booklets and scrolls up to her neck in the archive room of this old shrine. Her face and hands were covered in dust and sweat. The humid air plastered her white kimono to her form, the fabric ghostly against her skin. “You see! I noticed this room and, well, as you can see, it’s a bit… abandoned, so I decided to reorganize it” as she tossed a scroll aside and began fidgeting with her hands

“Well, it doesn’t exactly look organized…” glancing around the room.It was a small room—poorly ventilated, thick with dust sediment, and sweltering enough to notice her discomfort, so I didn’t understand what part of this place had caught her interest enough to be stuck in here.  

“Obviously. Look at me! You know, not all of us have an extra pair of hands to help out. I can’t do everyth—” She covered her mouth as if retracting her words "I mean, it’s a very accurate observation, My King” I pushed with my foot a pile of booklets which apparently she had organized  “NO! I JUST FINISHED ORGANIZING THAT!” she replied, frustrated and even frowning at me. Without a word, I lifted her and slung her over my shoulder like a sack, carrying her out of there.I had warned her to refrain from her know-it-all and sarcastic comments.

 “MY LORD, NO. HEY! NO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PUT ME DOWN!”  

“No. Air jail.”  

“Air… jail? What? NO. PUT. ME. DOWN NOW!.” She started hitting my back with her fists, squirming like a fish freshly caught and pulled out of the water. A grim chuckle escaped me—how quaint

Originally, I had been looking for her because, well, as I said before, I was really bored. 

But now, I found no other reason than to annoy her and maybe ask her a thing or two about what she remembered about that stupid promise.  

And since I couldn’t stay away from her too long before the binding restriction kicked in, I suppose I stopped tormenting her—if only to soothe my own mood.

She kept hitting my back and whining my name over and over. Until I’d had enough.  

“No.” I gave her a spank on her butt, and she yelped like a fox I think. although I must accept that it is quite soft as well. all of her is soft “If you want to act like a smartass with me, take all consequences like a big girl then”  

“Sukuna!” Her tone was sharper, even shrill now. “FINE. I’M SORRY, BUT PUT ME DOWN. EVERYONE IS WATCHING!”  

“So? Should that matter to me? You’re the one who’s been naughty.”  

“Stop…”

“Then beg.”  

I respond, still standing in the hallway.  Hoping for another coy comeback or another sharp-tongued retort.

“I appeal to your reason and your good heart. I am truly sorry with all my being. It’s my mistake.” She breathed shakily and finished with "I’m sorry."  

Boring…

It wasn’t fun when she gave up so quickly… I set her down gently, and her face was flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment, I couldn't tell.

It’s as if she has no pride or shame for herself . Where’s that fierceness that used to define you? Have they clipped your claws and tamed your beast? Back then, she would’ve been furious if I’d done something like that… but now, it’s like all her intensity, even her spark, had dulled.  

“That 's all?” I replied, Head tilted to the side, upper arms folded, lower set on my waist half, surprised and half disappointed by her underwhelming response.

"Yes, I made a mistake that you previously pointed out, and I did it again." Her hands came together, one over the other, her posture rigid

Strange

Let’s bring up the topic we fought about last time—that should get some kind of reaction out of her. 

“Don’t forget about the food. You’ve been here for over ten days and haven’t gained any weight. If I didn’t eat with you sometimes, it’d seem like you weren’t eating at all.”  I pressed my fingers to her temple—hard.

“Very well, my king. I will abide by your wishes.”She gave me a slight bow, her movements mechanical, her expression blank. And then she looked at me with those dark, pale eyes—lifeless and empty.

Nothing? Uh.

For some reason, unknown even to me, it irritated the shit out of me when she put on that facade of an obedient servant or a well-mannered lady.

 If I wanted to hear that kind of treatment , I’d directly just talk to any servant or Uraume.

 At least with Uraume, I knew it came from a place of genuine respect and admiration—they’d been with me since they were a boy who couldn’t control their powers.

 But this woman? No.

She didn’t respect me.  

She’d seen me at my worst—when I was nothing more than gutter filth, my ribs pressing against sunken flesh as I scavenged for scraps. Everyone looked away. No one wanted to be near a cursed, filthy, grotesque monster. But she didn’t turn her gaze. She saw me. Confronted me. Then gave me her own food—pressing it into my grime-caked hands—and sat beside me. For the first time, someone had bothered to stay.

She gave me what little she had. Stripped me of my tattered rags and stitched new garments with her own hands. The seams were crooked, the fit atrocious—I remember it all: how absurdly proud she looked, her fingers dotted with needle pricks. Those lopsided stitches were the only kindness that ever touched my skin.

We ate from the same bowl; whenever food came, she’d insist on sharing, even when it meant hunger. Always slipping the larger portion to me saying boys eat a lot more because they are always hungry! 

She opened her home to me after her parents’ death, insisting she wanted me there—that I shouldn’t leave her alone. That smell of aged wood and rust,yet to me, it was the most enchanting, warm place imaginable. Everything about it felt that way.It wasn’t lavish or tidy, but it was warm enough for us both. 

Always eager to share what little she had. She liked pushing our futons together, sleeping at my side. Even when winter was especially deep, our bodies alone seemed enough to keep each other from freezing. At nights, she’d clutch my sleeve like I might vanish. That was the day I learned human warmth.

Now she stood before me with her eyes downcast, addressing me as my lord with that infuriatingly perfect little bow. The formality was a blade twisted between my ribs. This woman who’d once wiped blood from my split lip with her sleeve, who’d laughed when I threw myself into a stupid fight over some brats scuffing the house—where was she now? 

This woman didn’t have an ounce of respect for me, not in the way she spoke so formally now.

My fingers twitched at my sides. 

Was she mocking me?

 Was I a joke to her?

 Or was she deliberately putting distance between us? 

Either way, it was making my nerves stand on a fucking edge.

“Remove the honorifics,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Talk to me as your equal. Woman.”

She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly before she replied, “I’m not your equal. I’m your acquisition . It would be disrespectful to my master, my king, my lord. That’s—”

“No.” I cut her off, my tone now firmly. “You are my equal, so don’t speak to me with titles or honorifics, don't come at me with all that bullcrap. Don’t you dare talk to me as if we weren’t part of each other.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might argue back. But then she said, “Everyone does it. I must do it too, It’s improper to treat you so carefree.”

“The whole world might do it,” I shot back, stepping closer. “But I’m telling you not to. And if that’s not enough, I’ll make you to.”

She crossed her arms, defiance flickering just beneath the surface. Yes, that's exactly what I want. Show it to me. “But the servants do it. Even Uraume does that!.”

“But you are neither a servant nor Uraume, are you?” I countered, my voice low and condescending “And we’re not talking about Uraume here. They don’t need to be part of this conversation.”

Her eyes flashed, and she tilted her head. “Then are they not your equal?”

“Yes, they are,” I admitted, not missing a beat.

“Then why do they acknowledge your titles, and I on the other hand can’t?” she pressed, her voice rising slightly.

“Because it comes from respect and dedication,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “Something your tone and actions lack.”

“My tone doesn’t come from respect?” her words now sharp and harsh.

“No,” I replied bluntly 

“Where does it come from, then?” she demanded, her voice trembling with barely restrained emotion.

“From separation,” I said, my gaze locking onto hers. “Uraume has known me since my rise to greatness and respects me in the way a student respects their master. You, on the other hand, don’t .”

“Are you implying that I—” she began, but I cut her off.

“No, I’m stating it.”

She blinked, her defiance faltering for a moment. “Where is this even coming from…?” she murmured, more to herself than to me.

Don’t tell me she’s genuinely surprised by my annoyance.

I’ve repeated this to her several times over these past few days, but it’s like talking to a wall every time I do.

Are you truly so desperate to distance yourself from me? After all we’ve endured together?

Bad fucking news—I won’t allow it.

“It stems from your impulsive need to draw a dividing line between us,” I said, my voice softening despite my frustration. “Whether you like it or not, you’re bound to me.” Figuratively and literally, we are united. I reached out, lightly touching her face to wipe away a smudge of dust and sweat. Her cheeks flushed under my touch, and for a moment, she looked as though she might pull away. But she didn’t. “So, for the last time,” My voice was firm but not unkind. “Stop it.” Even I surprised myself that I can use that tone of voice.

“I… I never,” she stumbled over her words, voice trembling. “Never thought less of you…”   She took a deep breath and spoke again “You could be a poor wretch, and I’d still see you with the same affection. It’s just that now… you’re so much more than me. I don’t want to be disrespectful—you’ve achieved so much, you know? I don’t want to treat you lightly. You… I… I’m the one I can't be by your side. it would only embarrass you”

Her words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. “Is that why you’re pushing me away?” I asked, my voice softer now.

“I’m not. I’m right here” she said, her eyes searching mine.

“No, you’re not,” I countered.”you're treating me like a stranger.”  

“My lord, I—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, my tone firm.

She glanced toward the hallway, where several servants had gathered—some pretending to clean, others openly watching. It seemed we had both raised our voices without realizing it. “Let’s take a walk,” she suggested, her voice calm but insistent. “I’m afraid we’re drawing too much attention.”

“If what concerns you is them staring, I can kill them, and the problem is solved,” I said, half-serious, half-teasing.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly reached out, her hand brushing my upper arm before sliding down to grasp mine. She squeezed it gently, her expression pleading. “Let’s take a walk… please?”

I agreed, nor was I thrilled to make a scene in front of those insects. Sometimes I genuinely reconsider keeping them in my home. Uraume seems capable enough to manage everything... though I might postpone the massacre until winter. When food runs scarce.

Also, because I hoped that if she were surrounded by people, they would eventually help pull her out of the hard shell she had built around herself.

The garden path crunched softly beneath our feet as we walked, the evening air thick with the scent of damp earth by the fall of dew. Against all reason, her hand still linger in mine—small and cold, fingers stiff as winter branches. I could feel the tension coiled through her, every tendon pulled taut like a bowstring at full draw. 

Even her breathing had gone shallow, as if she feared the simple act of filling her lungs might betray some unspoken rule between us.

My thumb moved without permission, brushing the delicate bones of her knuckles . A hunter testing the give of a snare. She didn't pull away but didn't relax either.

It felt… strange, but it was not an unwelcome sensation.

“I… I don’t know how to act around you, if I’m being honest,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to behave.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“You’re… my friend,” Her voice had gone soft in a way that made my skin prickle. “But we’re not children anymore.” She squeezed my hand more firmly, as if trying to anchor herself. “I owe you my life for getting me out of that horrible place. But I can’t treat that debt lightly. When you say I don’t respect you, you’re wrong because I do respect you . But I struggle to see you as my equal when I’m not even close” Her throat worked around the word as I stopped dead in my tracks. The gravel beneath our feet skittered into silence.

What in the actual fuck.

“I'm rather inadequate. I want to treat you with the respect and honor you deserve.”

Respect ? 

Honor ? 

Absurd. 

A sharp laugh tore from my chest. "You think that's what this is?" I see our shadows merging into one grotesque shape against the pebbled path. "People don't respect me. They piss themselves when I walk by. They carve shrines to my shadow and whisper prayers to my footprints. That's not respect - it's the animal part of their brains screaming predator.”

Her pulse jumped beneath the fragile skin of her wrist where I still held her. and I kept talking.

“So, no. I don’t need your respect”

I don’t need it from you. Letting you see beyond my surface is a privilege—one I grant exclusively.

And the Repayment? Oh, you’ll provide it.

“And following your logic, I also owe you. You gave me warmth, food, and a bed. Should I also call you ‘my lady’ then?”

“No, no! Not at all,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I didn’t do it because I wanted to be in debt. I did it because it came from within me.” she paused “I’ve changed… You’ve changed, We–” her voice trembling as she brought her hands to her face. She looked like she wanted to cry again, but instead, she took a deep breath and let her shoulders drop, as if the weight of her thoughts was too much to bear.Her vulnerability caught me off guard again, and for a moment― “I don’t know how to behave around you. Should I be obedient like a servant, or can I treat you casually? I–” She trailed off, her words dissolving into silence. “I’m not good with this. Just tell me how you want me to treat you, That’s where we’ll start”

I didn’t know how to respond. 

I hadn’t meant to push her this far, but my frustration had gotten the better of me. “I want you to treat me like you’d treat a normal person, like you used to” I said finally, my voice softer.

She looked at me, her eyes searching mine, and I could see the conflict written all over her face. She wanted to say something, but she held back, her lips pressing into a thin line.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I think I pushed her too far.

I only meant to provoke her—pass the time. Now I’m neck-deep in this. whatever it is.

Planned a distraction. Acquired a problem.

Great just. Great.

I got worked up over something meaningless. The real issue—the one that had been gnawing on me ever since she arrived—was still unresolved. THE DAMNED PROMISE. But now wasn’t the time to bring it up. Not when she looked so fragile. What the hell did they do to you in that place?

“With that matter settled,” she began, her voice kind of hesitant but determined, “I wanted to ask you about something else… No, if it’s not too much of a problem, am I allowed to send some correspondence?”

I raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by the sudden shift in topic. Wow, that’s quite a change of pace, I thought, studying her expression. She seemed nervous, her fingers twisting the fabric of her sleeve as she spoke. “I mean, I’ll cover the messenger’s expenses. I don’t want to burden you with that… but I don’t know if that bothers you.”

“Who do you want to talk to?” I asked, my tone neutral but curious.

“With Ame, my friend, and some of the other girls from the brothel,” she explained, her voice softening. “I want to let them know I arrived safely, but I haven’t found the right moment to ask for your permission.”

“You don’t need my permission” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “And what payment are you talking about? We have a messenger here. You don’t need to pay for one.”

She blinked, clearly surprised by my response, and then nodded slowly. “Thank you… I know it’s very annoying of me, but would it be too much trouble to ask for some paper? I know it can be hard to get sometimes, but—”

I cut her off with a shake of my head. “You’ll have everything you need.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and I saw her fidgeting with her hands, a small smile spreading across her lips. It was such a stark contrast to the tension from earlier. Such a fickle and strange creature, I thought, watching her closely. You cry over the most insignificant things and laugh at the most absurd ones.

"Besides," I said, tilting my head just enough to watch her reaction from the corner of my eye, "shouldn't they be the ones writing first?" The evening breeze carried the scent of crushed grass as I kicked a loose pebble across the path. "If they really cared—if they lay awake wondering—wouldn't their letters already be piled at my door? Why chase those who don’t chase you?"

Her fingers stilled on the wildflower stem. In the golden hour light, I saw the exact moment my barb landed—the brief tremor in her lower lip before she schooled her features. When she smiled, it was the kind that didn't reach her eyes.

 “Each letter costs money,” she murmured, plucking another white blossom from the stem.  “Many of them don’t have much for themselves, so I planned to cover the messenger’s costs.”

She lifted her gaze then, and something in it made it very clear. She seemed absent, empty. 

“So…Even if they truly wanted to write to me so badly, they would have to spend his money on me, and I made them swear not to do it. So I trust you understand the root of my refusal now, don’t you?”

For a moment, we stood there in silence,A cicada's drone filled the silence where my answer should have been. The sudden tension between us slowly was replaced by a strange, almost comfortable quiet.

Despite our conversation, the following days were more of the same…

She didn’t distance herself with words but with actions, becoming more withdrawn and self-absorbed. She occupied her mind with trivial tasks—organizing scrolls in the archive room, tending to the garden, or helping Uraume with minor chores. Uraume, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased that the house’s vegetation had improved and even praised her for her efforts. It was progress, I supposed, that she no longer spoke to me with honorifics, but the distance between us felt more pronounced than ever.

One evening during dinner, I decided to take the initiative and strike conversation. I tried to appeal to nostalgia, steering the topic towards our “silly” promise from years ago. As I suspected, she didn’t remember much about it. Damn it, I thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Of course, she wouldn’t remember it well—she’s younger than me. But I pressed on, asking her if I had requested something in return.

With a laugh, she said, “You asked me to be yours .”

the hell was that?

I stared at her dumbfounded, my expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. She laughed again, a soft, almost nervous sound, and waved her hand dismissively. “I was just joking with you. I didn’t take it seriously.” But then she added, “Although I do remember you asked for something in return.”

That was enough to confirm it. The memory was there, buried beneath layers of time and distance, but it was real. And with that realization, I knew I was truly screwed.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, the weight of her words hanging heavily between us. She didn't have ANY idea of what kind of trouble we’re in and she’s just treating it like some cutesy childhood memory. I couldn't help but replay the conversation in my mind, trying to make sense of it. Had I really said something so… direct? So foolish? Or she was just trying to be funny? It didn’t sound like me, but then again, we were just kids back then. 

Kids who didn’t know any better.

I really hope I wouldn't have said something as corny as that.

As I sat there, lost in thought, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d stumbled into something far more complicated than I’d anticipated.

I was truly fucked. and not in a good way.

But in the following days, things would become much more complicated. 

Chapter Text

To my dear friend Ame,  

I hope this letter finds you well in the height of summer’s heat.  

A fortnight has passed since our parting.  

I wish to ease the shadows weighing on your heart and settle your doubts.  

Should I describe this place…No—perhaps it’s best to keep such things unspoken.  

I know your greatest worry is my wellbeing, so let me confess: Lord Ryomen Sukuna has treated me with  such courtesy and kindness. Currentl—  

No. This won’t do.  

 Try again.

Lord Ryomen Sukuna has received me favorably. The food is delicious, the servants are kind… 

No. This, too, fails and lacks essence. Do you want to worry her further or comfort her?

Let's try one more time. 

The meals are exquisite and suited to my tastes. All here have welcomed me warmly. You needn’t fret for your sister, nor fear I’m adrift in loneliness, for I can assure you—  

no. 

I started scribbling all over the page.

No. 

I see her face, worried and tearful.

NO . 

I scratched out the words until the paper tore. Liar , the ink seemed to hiss at me.

Yet another inked page joins the floor with others of its kind on the wooden floor—yet another failed attempt.  

My forehead meets the lacquered desk in frustration, arms falling limp at my sides.  

Who am I fooling? 

Ame… I’ve never felt more alone.  

Though I veil it behind my fractured composure, my solitude bleeds through the cracks.  

I had you back then to soothe my loneliness.  

But now?  

There’s no one to share this weight. No one to quiet the storm in my head.  

I’ve resolved to spare Sukuna with my presence henceforth. Two reasons guide me: First, after… that dream from nights ago, I can scarcely stand near him without those lurid memories unraveling my mind and senses. It disturbs me how my mind keeps coming back to that dream and craves that it become reality.

I know I’m neither sound of reason nor feeling—but I must not think of him so… frequently.  He’s beyond my reach.

Repress it.   

I slammed my head against the desk.

Again.

And again 

until a concerning dizziness overtook me.  

The second reason? I refuse to bother him further with my radical mood swings, my own mental decline—and the inconvenience that I am.

He’s already done more than enough by pulling me out of the brothel. That in itself is already a grand act of solace on his end and I'm nobody to ask for more than that…

I'd like to think everything is fine between us, but…after that strange argument we had the other day… things have been…  

Off ?

Or perhaps I made them so.

I don't even know now…

Every time I interact with him my brain seems to stop working, and I turn into a complete full-blown idiot.

Gods…why can't I be a normal person? 

And

Sukuna does nothing to curb these out of place impulses or improve our strange friendship. I don't know if he's being flirtatious or just friendly . 

How "friendly" was fine for him?

Instead, the only answers I get are things like “take it like a big girl”, “stop that sassy tongue"  and to put the cherry on top “ You’re bound to me ”, that last one now feels like a luring chant. Drilling my head.

Like a fucking mantra while imagining his hands gripping my thighs, and this thick fingers drifting lower—  

Repress it

To stifle the supervening frustration, I’ve tried to make myself useful around here: organizing the archives, reading in confinement, tending to plants, helping Uraume here and there.

F U C K.

You know…

I'm trying my best to act normal, like a functional human being.

I felt decent.

But…

N o t h i n g      w o r k s .  

Ame.

My dear friend.

Im feel like i’m fallin

I wish… 

Really wish.

This suffocating house has welcomed me. 

But the servants look over me, as if I’m a stain on their pristine and clean world.  

a parasite.

a stain they can't get rid of.

 I can't feel warmth—from anyone.

 Nights are the worst.

 They gnaw at me.

 Exposing.

 My festering truth:  

I am a disaster.  

Routine eludes me. 

My thoughts, my mind, my appearance, my room—all unravel in front of me.

 I’m disappearing into myself. into something I can't recognize.

And Sukuna’s begun to suspect something’s wrong with me…

if he realizes the real extent of it…

I’m . 

…

I know. 

I know what they do to deal with women like me.

Women like me are cast out or locked away in annexes for the remainder of their miserable lives. 

And within little rationality I hold on.

I know it.

I'm feeling it.

I've hit rock bottom.  

I don’t understand it, Ame. I now have the luxuries I could only have dreamed of!. I left the hell of the Oiran’s life behind me. Faking pleasure when all I felt was anguish and disgust as unfamiliar hands touched my flesh and consumed my very being.

Yet …

I’m more miserable than ever.

My strength ebbs; my only desire is an eternal, undisturbed rest.  

I look down and see... a deformed, nodding mass that lifts one of its limbs and approaches my face.

Cold.

This is cold.

I shudder.

Just to realize, these are my hands…

 I squeezes my eyes 

Trying to come to terms with reality.

. . .

E N O U G H 

Spare yourself all this melodrama.

Please.

 I'm just making a fool of myself.

This isn’t new. 

For years, you've been feeling this.

Feeling broken. 

Shattered

Feeling numb.

Empty.

Shallow

But Ame, my steadfast friend, you kept the darkness at bay. 

Yes. temporarily.

You made me feel something beyond cold apathy.

I wanted to be needed by someone.

 A pitiful attempt to try to avoid what I am. 

that I am empty

and it worked.

But Now?  

The longing clings like a tick, feeding on my flesh and blood.  

nobody needs me.

I can't help anyone

I think…

 I miss you.  

Miss your warmth.  

Your nearness. 

Our friendship.

No. This is beyond that 

Our sisterhood.

This whole ordeal might be bearable… if I had someone to share even a sliver of connection with.  

You’d scoff at me, and tell me You called that monster your friend! 

He is. 

But there’s a limit to how much one can lean on another. 

And with Sukuna… I won’t impose my inner turmoil or my soul’s achening on him.

I simply can't.  

I'm so ungrateful. 

He gave me food, shelter, comforts—even a form of freedom. 

And yet here I am.

Whining and feeling bad for myself.

if you saw me. 

Really saw me.

You would surely be ashamed.

I dragged my leaden body from the desk, looking again and again in these four hollow and dim walls. My feet didn’t lift—they slid across ice-cold wood. And collapsed onto the futon, with its fabric now itchy, contaminated. 

Doesn’t matter.  

Nothing really does.  

I’ll let the darkness swallow me whole, my body dissolving beneath its sticky and cold grasp.  

Not knowing how long I lingered in that state. Half-conscious. Just being there , in that oppressive room.  

Lately, I’ve lost track of time.   

Food also waited for me outside. Though it seemed delicious, I felt no human urge to devour it.  

I can't get out of this state.

But when heavy, resonant footsteps by a certain individual began pacing and roaming near my room too often, I knew I had to break the streak—show my face, wash up, or feign normalcy through empty activity.  

I feel so tired.

The darkness swallowed me whole—until it didn’t. Until I was running, breathless, through a meadow drenched in impossible light

The meadow stretched endlessly—a sea of wildflowers bowing like devoted subjects as the wind swept through. Sunlight pooled liquid gold across my skin, so warm it seeped into my bones, melting away years of pain and sorrow. 

The sky burned in impossible colors: violet bleeding into molten pink, as if dawn and dusk had tangled together into an nearly impossible celestial embrace.  

I laughed then, the sound startlingly bright in my own ears. My bare feet tore through the grass, toes curling into rich soil as I ran— really ran —for the first time since childhood. No shackles. No watching eyes. Just the honeyed air filling my lungs until they ached and burn, the wind whipping my hair like a banner behind me.  

That’s when I saw him.  

A figure reclined in the grass, one arm pillowed behind his head. My steps faltered. The flowers here grew taller, their stems trembling as I pushed through, petals catching on my sleeves like pleading fingers.  

The word was at the tip of my tongue.

"Papa?" 

His face was exactly as I’d carved it a thousand times in memory: the laugh lines deeper on one side from his crooked smile, the patchy beard he could never quite grow evenly. Sunlight gilded his outstretched hand.His leg... still missing. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered! beside me seeing him again—that was more than I’d ever dared ask for.

 “There’s my girl! Look at you. So tall and beautiful. Oh, my little one! how have I missed you”

I threw myself into his arms. He staggered under my weight, but all I could do was cling to him, drenching him in tears like a baby. I’d forgotten how to breathe—my chest was too full, trembling, about to explode . I buried my face in his chest and wished my entire body could fuse with his. My father returned the embrace, his nostalgic scent (one I’d nearly forgotten) flooding my nostrils with his characteristic fragrance, woody with a slight pine scent.

How have I possibly forgotten this warm feeling in my heart?

This was only making me sob even harder. 

My father then began rocking me side to side, patting my back—in the same way he’d comforted me when thunder and lightning terrified me as a child. 

He was always there for me.

I knew I’d missed him. But I hadn’t realized the real extent of it.  How truly desperately I needed this— To be comforted and held.

"Your mother and I miss you so much, dear” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my crown as I wept into his chest. “You blame yourself so much for things beyond your control. You always demanded too much of yourself for your own good—even as a child”. His grip became stronger and more present as if he was about to say something painful. “We’re with you. Maybe not in body… but I’m” — His voice cracked, but he pushed on “You shouldn't have seen us that way... And I’m sorry, my little baby. We should’ve protected you. But what happened… it was never your fault.” 

“I’m tired… I want to come back to you. I’m sick of everything. I’ve disappointed you—disappointed Mom. You raised me to be a good woman, and look at me now!" My face was streaked with tears. "I’m just a filthy whore . I’m disgusting, Dad. I'm sorry, for being a bad daughter"

With unbearable gentleness, he brushed my hair behind my ears and grant me a smile. 

"To me, you’re the most precious thing I’ve ever laid eyes on… aside from your mother’s, Gods.. i love her.” He whispers and then squeezes cheeks with a wide smile as he used to “But you little one, are the light of my life—still are. Nothing you did to survive changes that. You’re strong. Stronger than I ever was." He chuckled, wiping my tears with his callous thumb. "You did what you had to do to keep going, don't be ashamed of it"

"Dad… I don’t want to be strong anymore." 

"Life is beautiful, my child. But it pays in cruelty. You’re still young, and as your father, I know you’ve got a lot more to give. This isn’t your time." 

I wanted to argue—to say I should’ve died long ago, that I was just a hollow shell of myself—but these words clogged in my throat.  

"And I know what it’s like to lose your spirit," he continued, gesturing to his stump with a wince. "Losing my leg… I burdened you and your mother. It took a toll on me. I Couldn’t provide for our family. I felt utterly useless. Every time I saw your faces, guilt drowned me. But even when I lost my place in the world—when I couldn’t fight curses anymore to put food on the table— I even thought of ending it all to stop being a burden."  

Wait— curses ? I didn’t recall him ever mentioning that. But I didn’t dare interrupt.  

"But I couldn’t bear a single day without you two or the sadness that would undermine your lives. It’s the same for you, my daughter. People would grieve if you left this world." 

"They’d be better off—" 

"I thought that once too. But that’s just assuming others’ feelings—you're seeing things one-sided, and that is a wrong way of thinking."

Silence.  I couldn't answer that

"Don’t be so hard on yourself." He gave me a soft smile and took my hand. “Your heart is still soft and generous, and that worries me, my child. At least part of me can rest in peace knowing that the boy you tamed is pretty strong. Stronger than me in my youth, I know he’ll protect you.”

“Are you talking about Sukuna?...”

“The very same.” His grip tightened on my shoulders. “When I first saw you bind yourself to him with a vow, I wanted to claw my way back from death just to die again—I was furious you’d take such a thing so lightly!” A pause, then grudging: “But… it’s gone better than I expected. Still—never let him off that leash. Don’t not UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES. Give him what you promised. Do you understand?” 

“Uh… what exactly are we talking about?”

“Your heart, my child. Never give him that. Not only because he’ll shatter it, but—” 

Chapter Text

“Papa?” 

No preamble—just slow, groggy awareness. Like ocean waves, hitting my body at intervals.

Was that a dream? 

Though I couldn’t recall when I’d even fallen asleep.

I feel heated and sticky, the air feeling dense and thick getting uncomfortable.

The hakama Sukuna had given me felt stiff under my tights and sweat and days of use—turned the soft fabric into a ragged cloth.    

I didn’t want to move from my bedding.

My body felt leaden and stiff. My eyelids fluttered lazily and heavy, and my throat itches for water. But even with all that i considered surrendering once more in slumber.

"Not getting up?" Sukuna’s voice cut through the haze. I rolled onto my back, too drained to flinch or rise, and found him slouched near my futon, with a crumpled paper in hand, none of his eyes addressing me. Behind him, Uraume lingered near the doorway, their expression as always, unreadable.  

“No,”  I muttered, pulling the fabric over my face  and turning my back on him. "I’m tired.” 

Tired. Was an understatement of what I really felt, drained.

He was the last person I wanted to see or talk to right now. Keeping up this façade of ‘normalcy’ around him was exhausting enough.

He wasn't stupid.

Sukuna was sharp, perceptive at seeing between the cracks of my mask.

I had neither the strength nor the desire to keep up appearances

He….made me feel too much—and right now, I lacked the energy to process it.

 I just have the strength to keep existing.

No complicated emotions in between.

"Four days." A piece of inked paper appeared at my side and discarded "You haven’t left this room in four days."  Has it really been that long ? "Hey." A rough hand nudged my ribs. "The least I expect from you is to look at me when I talk to you."  

He’s here pestering me yet doesn't even look at me.

"As I said. I'm tired, Sukuna. Leave me alone" 

That was the first of all the terrible decisions I made that day.

"Oh really?" The blanket was suddenly torn away. Chill breeze bit into me as Sukuna hauled me upright by the collar. His nose wrinkled. 

Oh

He is pissed.  

Raving mad

"Look at this. At least you’re clothed today” 

Alarmed and instinctively, I twisted myself free, stumbling toward the door which leads to the courtyard—but his hand locked around my ankle. 

One yank.

And my jaw met the floor.

My stomach lurched as he hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of rice.I saw everything through a cloudy lens.

Floorboards blurring fast beneath me, and Uraume following us at a rapid pace, always with their non-descriptive expression.  

Sure, I was mad he’d dragged me out of my hibernation hole—but I let him do as he pleased. Either way, even if I fought back, it was a battle I couldn’t win. 

Doors burst open and from one moment to the other water hit me like a slap—freezing cold, biting my bones. I gasped, thrashing as the shock seared through my body.  

"The hell is your problem?!"  My voice cracked, raw as the chill gnawing at my skin.

"My fucking problem?” he snapped, returning the insult, and repeatedly pressed his finger against my chest, hard. Surely that would leave a mark. "Is that you fucking stink. Clean yourself up. Please, have some sense of decency” He turned to Uraume not waiting for a reply “Gather the servants at the gates. We’re having a talk” 

If this man thought I’d obey him so casually after being dragged out of my room,  and then being thrown into the water without explanations.

He is surely mistaken about me.

All I wanted.

Was to rot in my room undisturbed.

Not bothering anyone. 

But I think that's also too much to ask.

I clawed my way out of the water, damped fabrics adhered on me like a second skin to my body. Shivering and with my teeth chattering but forcing myself upright to him standing as my clothes weighed me down.

Sukuna didn’t move. 

But his teeth grin—with an unnerving smile as when dogs give you a warning not to approach them.

I won't lie.

I was shaking as a helpless animal. And this time, not because I'm cold, but because I was truly scared—not of him, exactly, but of that manic grin splitting his face. But an incredible enough anger prevailed in me. “Still don’t get it. Are you stupid? I said—"  

“Move,"I tried to shove past him, in a blunt manner "I’m leaving." 

But Sukuna moved faster than me.

His bare foot pressed flat against my sternum.  

And gave a one sharp push.  

My back hit the bath water with a slap that echoed off the bathhouse walls. Liquid flooded my nose and mouth as I flailed, the shock of it stealing my breath. When I resurfaced, coughing painful and itching discomfort in my throat, Sukuna hadn't even shifted his stance.  

Did this fucker just push me? 

With

His 

Foot?

"Uraume." His eyes unwavering while he pinged me in place. "Change of plans. You play babysitter while I educate the servants" The damned thing did a pause, then lowered his tone "Keep testing me. Woman, And I’ll get in. And guess what? You won’t like how that ends."  

That should have felt threatening but—

I never got to finish the line of thought. Because Sukuna was already gone, the shoji screen rattled.

Again with the door problems, I see.

Uraume stepped forward, their reflection pooling in the water “If the temperature displeases you," they said, fingertips brushing so slightly the water's surface without looking in my direction "I could adjust it to your liking " 

“If it’s not too much of a problem.” 

Uraume gave a silent nod and lit the nearby furnace. The water was fresh from a mountain stream, judging by the stray leaves swirling against my skin—began to shift. At first, I felt the subtle current tugging at my limbs, the chill of it raising goosebumps along my arms. Then, gradually, warmth seeped through the pool, its heat undoing the knots in my muscles one by one. The sudden comfort was almost violent in its contrast, dragging me from numbness into sharp, unwelcome awareness.

 I usually bathe in private quarters near my room, but this open-air bath had a breathtaking view of a secluded clearing, and it was very spacious and silent.

 I think I'll bathe here from now on!.

"Bathing supplies are in the shed to your left. You’ll have to manage alone. I must decline assisting you. It wouldn’t be..."Their silhouette paused at the shōji door. "Proper."  

"Of course, it's no problem" I replied, with nothing else to add.  

The door slid shut with a whisper, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of the furnace and the distant rustle of leaves.Apparently, Uraume had no intention of leaving that doorway until I was finished.

Someone in here at least is decent enough to have a cordial conversation with me

 I proceeded to strip out the soaked clothes stuck to my skin, which were becoming uncomfortable and heavy.

This time Sukuna had definitely been overtaken by his sudden outburst.

A subtle way of saying he was fucking nuts. Seriously, does he have muscles everywhere but his head or what?

I'm aware that he 's not the most regulated, patient, or sensitive person in here. 

But that does not justify the fact that my new sense of privacy had been violated in such a way, and then, I was dragged here, against my will.

I like to think I’m reasonable—that I own up to my mistakes. 

But not this time. 

I’ve done nothing wrong.

So let him pull all the faces he wants—I won’t budge.

No matter what.

I won’t apologize this time.

Also I do not stench!

It wasn’t that bad…

He was exaggerating.

Then I sniffed my clothes.   

The unholy cocktail of sweat and neglect wrecked my nostrils. The smell was sour and penetrating only deepened the headache that I was already struggling with.

“Gods. Had I really smelled like that?” I took my clothes away from my face and threw them on the floor.

I exhaled in defeat and let my shoulders drop.

Honestly, I’d need a damn good excuse to let myself slit like that.

Trying to focus my attention on something other than my impending confrontation with Sukuna.

I let myself wander the bathing quarters, snooping around fingers trailing along the walls.The space was nice, tidy, elegant—too elegant. 

Sunlight streamed through the space, gliding through the steam rising. Sukuna had clearly invested in here: cedar shelves, aromatic oils, and silk fabrics, even a furnace!

Yet something itched at the back of my mind.  

The floors were worn near the doorway, their lacquer dulled by decades of footsteps and even pristine walls couldn’t mask the scent of old incense clinging to the beams. 

All this was a cover up.

But I knew better

Even the Emperor’s court made do with small ofuros*.

Thus, having access to a spacious structure capable of drawing and heating water while maintaining outdoor access—all without compromising the building’s core framework—could only mean one thing: this was part of the 'main residence.' A level of luxury even the Emperor couldn’t afford, making it undeniable that this bath chamber was once a Yuya* And perhaps I might have overlooked that tiny detail, if i didn't read on the archives scrolls.

but…

I can't hide the sun with one finger.

This was no noble’s retreat or residence.

It was indeed a temple.  

An isolated, rarely visited temple dedicated to the goddess Izanami, according to some prayer records.

A place where tormented souls and those with heart ailments were available. Those who sought solace. The temple of the goddess of death and creation, was the right place for them.

But why ?

Why would Sukuna live in a place like this?

Had the monks in their infinite kindness took pity on him and allowed him to live here for the time being?

I really don't think so.

But if that was the case, What on earth happened here?

The only clues left were ghosts: a chipped lotus carving behind the furnace and soot-darkened rafters where votive scrolls once hung.  

Only tiny glimpses of their existence.

Maybe I should investigate other rooms or stop playing detective and find the courage to be direct and ask Sukuna upfront.

Annnd speaking of the devil, Sukuna had been blunt, rougher than usual. 

Not just impatient, more short-tempered…

Than his normal self.

But why? 

Not that I’d done anything to provoke his wrath—I’d barely spoken to him in days.

Unless his pride was pricked by my indifference; or was he upset because I hadn't paid attention to him? Poor baby boy.

The thought almost made me smirk. 

Almost.

I stepped into the waters, but my knees buckled, causing me to momentarily lose my balance. 

Lately, my body had become a traitor—headaches gnawing at my temples, limbs heavy as stone.

I also get chills often, which I blame on the fact that I haven't been eating properly these past few days.

My skin was hit by the steam and warmth of the water, at first it felt like searing heat but as I progressively introduced my body into the water I got used to it. It was pleasant and calmed my irritated senses.

While soaking my body, and passing a cloth over my arms to exfoliate my irritable skin, I raised my gaze, staying lost in thought and fixated on the landscape, endearing myself.

A leafy, greenish clearing at the height of its bloom, with small sunbathed wildflowers making their appearance, like small magical beings dancing to the rhythm of the wind, there were animalistic noises decorating the view, the murmur of birds, the rumble of cicadas and accompanying them in their percussion with the sound of a nearby river.

My mind inconsistently drifted to another familiar scenario, that dream—the one with my father in it. I lowered my sight to my hands.

He never came to me in peace. 

Only in nightmares—blood-soaked, its flesh partially incinerated and accusing. 

Blaming me.

But this time was different.

It felt real.

Corporeal.

The way his calloused hands cradled my face and stroked my back comforting my troubled heart, even asking for forgiveness.

Speaking to me in that affectionate tone of his with his mannerisms and his essence. 

After a long time, I felt overjoyed.

but something doesn't fit in.

The way he’d spoken of Sukuna….

Like he knew him…

I had never told my parents about him

They only knew that I had a best friend but I never introduced them.

Not because I didn't want to do it but Sukuna… didn't like the idea at that time.

When I commented about meeting my parents and even he could probably sleep with us if I insisted, he got all weird, evasive and tense about the subject and seeing his discomfort I decided not to press on it. 

My father also talked about things I didn't understand.

Curses?

I'd never heard him talk about that before…

Besides the spooky folk tales and legends he enjoyed recounting to me. But that’s all that they are, they are your typical stories that you tell children so they learn.

But the way he said it, it's like it's his job? My dad wasn't a priest.none of that, he looked more like a warrior, or a rōnin*.

I vaguely remembered him explaining how he lost his leg, but I was still too young to understand everything, and I didn't remember it clearly. But I didn't have the whole picture.

Papa…

What were you trying to tell me? Or maybe I’m just losing my mind!

None of it made sense.  

And I didn’t have the effort to put the pieces of this puzzle together and make sense of it.  

Because even if I meditated on it all day, I wouldn't have the answers to any of my questions or the solutions to my problems. 

So I resolved on one thing: the faster I finished, the sooner I could return to my chambers.

And with that, I could have space to think things thoroughly, and perhaps finish the letter I started. It's been several days since I’ve arrived here and Ame might do something reckless or start to get suspicious.

So I finally emerged out of the water and out of my thoughts, my fingers were pruned. 

Apparently, I’d lingered longer than intended…

Then I thought that I no longer had any clothes to change into and I thought of mentioning that to Uraume but there was no need since nearby the door, laid a fresh set of garments, It was a deep red-colored yukata with gold-and-black emblems embroidered, with a white obi.

It was stunning.

Lovely, really lovely. 

At first, I thought it was another of Sukuna’s robes—but no.

  This one was for me .

A bit oversized, but it fits!

Something stirred in my chest and hot prickled peek behind my eyes, threatening to escape.

But I suppressed it. 

No

I didn't want to cry.

I wasn't fond of it!

Tears were a bad business, made you feel better momentarily, Yes.

But then you felt a strong headache and a feeling of emptiness, plus you get puffy eyes and everyone knows that you cried leaving you utterly exposed. 

Did…

I don't think that's the case

 But 

Did Sukuna actually bother to get something like this for me?

Had he chosen this? 

Measured the cloth.

Picked the colors.

No way.

I felt slightly guilty for the cold shoulder   

No.  

I’d said I wouldn’t bend. 

However, how sweet was this gesture. 

The silence between us thickened and heavy tension filled the space.

 We just stared at each other.

locked in sight. 

On some wordless standoff.

I was fiddling with my fingers, but strangely I didn't feel nervous at all.

Just there?

Maybe I was just too tired to feel anything.

Sukuna sat motionless, upper arms cross and lower settling on his hips, as if meditating on something with measured seriousness.

Just looking.

You dragged me all the way here for this?

Make a big fuss over it.

And now you stay there and make that stupid ass face and don't say anything to me? 

All bark and no bite?

I wanted to snap at him.

But my own tongue felt leaden.

Provoke an already upset man?

I really knew better…

Instead, I let my eyes wander past him—and froze.

The room wasn’t as I’d left it. 

The chambers breathed differently now - aired out and scrubbed raw, a lingering scent of…citrus and crushed petals clinging to the tatami.

My once-chaotic desk stood unnaturally tidy, scrolls stacked with military precision. 

New treasures colonized the space: a six-panel screen painted with herons in flight, a bronze mirror tilted to catch the setting sun, its surface polished to liquid perfection.

A hoard of treasures spilled in the corner: bolts of silk with vibrant colors, lacquer boxes spilling quite beautiful jewels, a dagger with a hilt wrapped in golden thread. The wealth of a minor warlord, dumped carelessly like a festival offering in my room.

Did I miss something?

"You’re really not going to say anything for yourself?" He said while signaling Uraume to get out of my room. I looked at them, trying to put on my best sad puppy eyes, so they wouldn't leave me alone with him but in the end it didn't work. 

Uraume just nodded as requested and looked at me with what I thought was pity.

They gently closed the sliding doors and with that sealed my fate.

"What exactly should I say?" I willed my voice as steady and calm as I could. “You dragged me here for this conversation, so you should be the one to sta—” Sukuna's derisive snort cut me off.

“Oh. I see, Now why we start up with this, why did you never tell me the servants were harassing you?”

“"It wasn't—” I felt a gust of wind near my ear. I didn't dare to move, but when I lowered my gaze and looked down. 

Near my foot  was a slash in the tatami cutting thoroughly…

“No?” His breath scorched my cheek, sending involuntary shivers down my spine as he closed the distance between us.

When did he get so close?

“Leaving you to fester in your own filth? Denying you meals? Letting you shiver or sweat like some stray animal?” His hand snapped me up, crushing my jaw and forcing my gaze to meet his. His eyes—dark, pupils blown wide with something manic beneath it— unrecognizable. 

"You know what you looked like when I came to your room?” he hissed, fingers tightening as I clenched my teeth “Pathetic. like a wounded creature, waiting for death, utterly helpless.”

But those words carved into me deeper than any blade. I'd been mocked before, made to feel small, pointed out—but coming from him? 

It shattered something inside me.

Yet beneath that hurt, something else stirred.

Deep down in me.

In my gut.

My senses were telling me, no—

Screaming at me.

Primal terror flooded my veins, my body trembling with the need to flee. To flee from him "Will you let everyone walk all over you while you just cry? Are you really that weak? I thought I'd taught you better.” His thumb dug into my cheekbone, the mockery in his voice cutting deep. “It's a shame, really” 

Who even are you?

"Let me be absolutely clear—" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You. Are. Mine. I’ll repeat it until your bones remember: no one touches what belongs to me."

“I’m not some thing—not a property, not anymore. Not a thing you can own!" I snapped at him, trying to get away from his grip.

"Oh?" His grin was all teeth, predatory. "If you’re so free as you say, if you can truly fend for yourself, why do I have to save your ass every time? Not just from the brothel, but that day too. Or have you forgotten?" He stepped closer, shadows pooling at his feet and putting one of his knees between my tights.  "Why did I have to carve that bastard's hands off before he could—"

That's a low blow, even for him .

“Don't. Stop..." The walls seemed to press closer to me, my vision tunneling—edges darkening and narrowing. Each breath grew tiring as if the air itself had turned to sludge.

Can’t—breathe—  

"Why?" He caught my scrag, thumb pressing into it "Give me one reason to halt. Go on—refute me. Tell me I’m wrong!” His face only a mere inches of mine, lips almost touching. "Show me!. I will love to hear it"  

And worst part?

He was right.  

I was still dependent on him—always has been this way, clinging to someone or something to keep me from drowning. 

And that fact tormented me. 

I’m powerless.

I can't do anything on my own strength.

Everything that had happened to me in my life was a direct consequence of my uselessness and weakness.

Salty tears streamed down my face, shameless, burning down to my cheeks, and mingling on my lips as his humiliating interrogation hung unanswered between us.  

Then—a flicker. His fingers slackened just enough. 

I didn’t think it. 

I just moved away from him.

Away for the pain.

I seized that split second to shove open the shōji door and make a barrier between us.

I want to spring away from the humiliation of his gaze, my voice cracked, but I forced the words out anyway: 

"I'ma fool. You know?” trying to calm my voice that cracked “Do you know the only difference between you and the men who used me before? You paid in upfront for the privilege to humiliate me”

Chapter Text

The cruelty of my own words shocked even me—how easily they'd spilled from my lips, venomous and precise.  

Not that I regretted them.

 No. 

The desire burned through me like a fever— I want to hurt him 

Not just plain pain.  

I wanted to carve my words into his ribs and watch his face fracture and to contort—first with rage at the insult of being compared to lesser men, then with the dawning, gut-deep horror of realizing:  

He’d done this.  

That he’d broken something irreplaceable in someone who—  

Who he cares about.

Funny because even I don't know if he really cares about anything, let alone someone…. 

I wanted his hands to shake. Wanted his breath to catch the way mine did.

Maybe he wouldn't get it, but I knew this firsthand.

It didn't matter if you were god or gutter trash—all men shared the same brittle pride, the same paper-thin ego. And nothing tasted more intoxicating than the moment you made them choke on it.  

I must admit the reckless part of me thrilled at the danger, but the smarter part screamed that provoking a violent man was suicide.  

That wasn’t my wisest move, I must admit.

So I did both: slammed the door so hard the frame shuddered, and ran away as the coward that I am.  

Bare feet slapped against polished wood as I bolted for the courtyard. Maybe if I reached a cypress, climb it and then, cramble over the fence and keep running until either he calmed down or I collapsed from exhaustio—  

"HEY!" The door exploded inward behind me. "We're not fucking done here!"

His roar sent crows scattering from the eaves.  

Option two it was, then.  

Run until exhaustion! 

"Leave me alone! This conversation is over!" I hurled the words over my shoulder in a shrill tone, already calculating the distance to the outskirts.

“I’ll fucking leave you alone until you’re dead”

Even though he was merely walking, his footsteps were heavy and closing in. A supernatural force urged me to keep fleeing, to vanish into the temple’s shadowed halls—but no matter how much I pushed forward or pressed on, my pace didn’t seem to increase.

My body refused to obey its owner.

My lungs burned, each breath razor-sharp. My vision swam, the world tilting on its axis. My feet—once swift and sure—now dragged as if wading through molasses.  

And this fucking yukata, it was not helping me at all.

So, I pulled up the obi down my chest and I pulled it as tight as I could and gave my legs more freedom.

But now my limbs failed me again—My knees buckled, sliding across the floor, sending me into a painful contortion, but my spine twisting violently to keep me upright.

And I didn’t fall.

I couldn’t. 

I just kept onwards, always onwards.

That’s when I felt it—warmth oozing between my toes.  

I took a quick glare down.

Blood.

It made me break out in a cold sweat all over my body. I didn’t know if it was mine or if it had already been there.

Don't think, run. 

Just run.  

I lurched into the garden, grasping for branches, for stones, for anything to climb—only to freeze.

The ground wasn’t soil.  

It was a slaughterhouse.  

Viscera coiled around my ankles. Organs glistened like rotten fruit. The stench of iron and bile clogged my throat. 

Is this hell? 

I recall this smell, I recall this setting. Blood and exposed flesh, engraved before my eyes, I could see it as clear as day. Scattered and festering bodies, stacked one above the other, while their blood mingled and stained my skin. I could see it all over again.

That smell made itself present as well. The putrid scent of burning flesh and hair yet I couldn't see flames or smoke anywhere nearby.

Am I losing my mind again?

The sounds of approaching footsteps behind me forced me to come back to my senses, so I frantically blinked my eyes, as if trying to remove the scene out of my sight.

Servants moved like machines through the carnage, their robes soaked red, faces smeared with sweat and gore. They scooped chunks of flesh into wood buckets, One of them was collecting something that resembled a torso and the other was collecting a chunk of... oh no.

Don't look at it.

You shouldn't.

Move. 

Just run!

He is coming…

A piercing pain lanced through my throat—hot, metallic, and with a taste of iron, as if something were stabbing my mouth but I ignored it. 

Ahead loomed a towering cedar, its bark rough under my hands clawed to my way up, nails splintering, fingers raw. The air burned in my lungs, but I didn’t stop.  

The moment I vaulted onto the wall, the tree groaned—then cracked, crashing to the ground in a storm of splintered wood.  

That mad man had cut down the tree!

I didn’t dare to look back.  

"You're starting to bore me, little rabbit, hopping here and there…”  

His voice slithered through the chaos, closer than it should’ve been.

Now I'm a rabbit? Well, it’s better than a raccoon, I think. At least he remembered to choose a prettier animal, This is not the time to think about that!  

I couldn't see his face, only heard his voice echoing through the place and besides I didn't want to see him.

What he had told me had hurt me deeply and what I had seen had horrified me, but I no longer had the strength nor a place to run.

I was between a rock and a hard place. 

Literally, because from this height there is nothing that can lighten my landing.

Two paths stretched before me, both terrible in their own way  

Leap: throw myself from the fence into whatever laid below. Pray to the gods that the fall didn't shatter my legs and hope I still have some stamina to keep running.

Stay: Let exhaustion claim me. Let him find me curled against the stone like a wounded hare. At least then the chase would be over.  

The wind howled through my ears, carrying the scent of iron and pine. 

Somewhere behind me, steady footsteps crunched through gravel. Closer. Always closer.  

You have to choose. 

But this was no choice at all! - just different flavors of surrender.  

Well, I guess now I can decide the way I’ll be more miserable. 

 This fall it's going to hurt like a bitch.

"Look at you, you broke your arm! It's a shame.” Sukuna's voice cooed with mock pity as he circled me “ It wasn't necessary to do this or that, was it?" 

". . .”

"Nothing to say for yourself?" He put a hand over my head and began rubbing it aggressively.  "Has the cat finally bit that sharp tongue of yours?" a pause and then scoffs at me, smiling "A pity. You should know I'd reconsider - if you had shown even a shred of decorum or remorse  - mending that little arm of yours.” His hands slid on my face tracing softly and delicately until his knuckles now grazed over my cheek but I turned my face away from him in resentment, no amount of caresses will fix this. “Sparing you further... discomfort." 

His hand withdrew, pulling away from my face "But we're well past that now, aren't we? That mad glare doesn't suit you at all half as well as a smile would.And just to let you know.” Sukuna waved before me.

 A slip of paper swaying like a pendulum, impeccably sealed with fragrant resin. Wait... that scent. 

Could it be… 

Oh no.

“Someone has correspondence. Though I wonder if you'll find its conten—"

Correspondence?

For me?  

No.  

No no no.

The words tumbled in a frenzied chant as I launched at him and clawed at his robes, fingers scrambling for the letter. But my limbs betrayed me—weak and trembling, the pain turning every movement to agony, My strength faded fast, my forehead dropping heavily onto his bare chest while I panted for air.

I knew it wasn't a good idea to jump from that high, but can you blame me? 

Sukuna pinned me effortlessly, my back hitting the floor with a thud that rattled my teeth.

"Uh. Uh. Uh." He wagged a finger inches from my nose. "Who said you could read it?” I must have grimaced, for he arched one brow and smiled at me—not the polished smile, but a wicked grin “Sulking all ready? Go on! You just have to try harder! Prove your point and show me how free you are. Take it away from my hands.”

I lunged at him. 

And failed… again.

The world tilted, his laughter drilling into my skull like a squeak.

“That the spirit!" he mused, pressing me deeper but not with force into my futon "Though your desperation is quite entertaining. It almost makes up for your earlier insolence. Almost "

His smile vanished. What remained on him was something hungry—the look of a predator moments before the kill.  

Savoring the moment.

"You see, little rabbit. What you said earlier didn't amuse me. On the contrary, They are peeving at me.” I held his gaze without utterance, silently shifting my swollen, throbbing right arm to find some semblance of ease—the movement concealed beneath my layered robes “So I'll be merciful - for old times' sake. I'll grant you the privilege of choosing” His thumb brushed my lower lip, so tenderly, which I hate him for doing so, and hate me even more for enjoying it. Seriously, am I that hungry for affection?  “We resume our... discussion ... or you stay silent and never lay eyes on this letter again.”

That damned son of a bitch has the audacity to claim he's giving me options? 

WHEN IT'S NOT AN ACTUAL CHOICE IF YOU'RE CLEARLY COERCING ME!  

"But, don't get me wrong and overestimate my patience. This benevolence is only temporary.” he warned, rising to his full height. “Until nightfall to be precise. You know where to find me." 

At least I'll finally be alone.  

“Uraume." His voice froze me mid-thought. “Keep an eye on her, never her left unattended.”

GODDAMN IT, ME AND MY BIG MOUTH  

The footsteps told me everything—Sukuna’s retreat out of the chambers and Uraume’s approach, gently.

I couldn’t bear to look at either of them, Not when the wounds were still fresh: the cruelty of someone dear to me, the gruesome deaths I'd witnessed, the pain radiating and pulsing through my arm. It all concealed in my chest, into a bitter, viscous weight sliding down my throat. choking me from the inside out.  

To their credit, Uraume seemed to understand. They said nothing as they knelt beside me, only unfolded a cloth to reveal a slab of ice that glowed faintly in the dim light. When they pressed it to my skin, the shock of cold made me jerk away—but their grip was firm.  

"This will dull the pain," they murmured, voice soft as frost settling on dead leaves. "Resisting him gains you nothing. You alone will suffer for it." 

"I know." My throat burned. "But he—hurt me." 

"Pride is a luxury you cannot afford."

"This isn’t pride." I lifted my head, meeting those glacial eyes that held neither pity nor malice. "I have none left to lose. But today... he went too far, and he knows that." The ice hissed against my skin, and I lay down again "Tell me truthfully. What happened out there?"

Uraume’s fingers stilled. The silence stretched, brittle, before they spoke:  

"You already know, Your own eyes witnessed it. No explanation of mine will change what you saw and don't think you need any"

The ice against my arm burned now, cold seeping deep into the marrow "But I want one anyway." My voice sounded foreign to me - cracked and desperate.

"Then ask him yourself." Their eyes flickered with something unreadable and approached a bowl of water and a cloth "Even I don't pretend to understand all my lord's will. Some storms are meant to be weathered, not comprehended.”

A drop of meltwater traced a path down my wrist like a tear. Uraume caught it with their thumb before it could fall. "But I will say this - you're still breathing. That should tell you something about his intentions."

"You've stood by him for several seasons," I murmured. "You must understand him better than anyone."  

Uraume's hands paused over the water basin, their reflection fracturing in the ripples. "And you've seen a side of him I never will." The damp cloth hissed against my skin as they began cleaning the soles of my feet. "You strike me as someone measured. So don't ask me to interpret what isn't mine to explain."  

They began cleaning the blood and filth from my feet. Their touch was methodical—not gentle, but not unkind either. 

This wasn't part of their orders. 

Sukuna had demanded surveillance, not service. Yet here they were, kneeling, scrubbing away the grime of my foot.

Perhaps I was overreaching, but I sensed... a faint regard. And that twisted my stomach anew, for they should resent me too. 

I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."  

The cloth stilled. "For what?"  

"Wasting meals" Their hands stilled. They wrung out the cloth, then resumed wiping. “The fault isn’t yours. It’s mine. I know how difficult it is to prepare meals and how insulting it must be when your efforts are rejected...”

"Cooking was never a luxury for you," they said sharply—Uraume, too, was hard to read in their own way. "You’ve no need to apologize."

Apparently they are somewhat upset…

“But I wish to." I pressed on as they continued cleaning my feet with surprising delicacy. "Because even if it wasn’t directed at me, I recognize the care put into such work. I love your food. . I'd... I'd like to help you prepare for it sometime. If you'd allow me”

Silence. Then—  

The barest pressure of their thumb against my instep. A fleeting thing, there and gone.  

No words. No glances.  

But in that moment, I felt something perilously close to being seen.  

They hummed in response and I took it as an acceptance of my apology. 

Time passed, and Uraume called a servant, whispering to bring something light to eat—watery rice with small pieces of venison. Uraume helped me eat it and reminded me again not to be so rough and to yield, saying that if I was lucky, Sukuna might heal me. Though it was odd—he wasn’t a doctor or anything, so it wasn’t like he could do much. Still, I nodded.

The ice had helped. It still ached, but not as much as before, though now it was melting. A miracle Uraume had even found ice in this season.  

And they noticed too—the floor growing damp as the ice thawed—before touching the block, and it regrew, as if nothing had happened.  

Uraume… had that magic as well? What a surprise!     

A long time ago, Sukuna had shown me he could do things ordinary people couldn’t—he could cut things without even touching them.  

I remember the first time he showed me—it was when I wanted apricots, but they were too high for me to reach. Sukuna just made a small movement with his fingers, and they fell right in front of me.  

Then he took one in his palm, and it was sliced into pieces as if by a blade.  

"Did you do that?" I asked, surprised, taking a piece of diced fruit from his hand.  

"Does it scare you?" He looked back at me—he was wearing a rolled-up woman kimono with patches and the left side of his face covered in bandages.  

"Mmm. I don’t know. Will it cut me? will it hurt me?"  

"No." He was dead serious.  

"Then no. Do it again!"  

“I think it would have been better to say yes.”

I thought he was the only one who could do that—but I was wrong. Uraume could do it too.  

Birds of a feather!. They are alike.

 I’m glad Sukuna found someone like him. 

Someone who can relate it that way.  

No.  

I shouldn’t be happy for him.  

I’m angry at him.

…  

No—more like frustrated. With myself.  

Because everything Sukuna said was true.  

And that angers me.  

That he’s right.  

That I’m weak .  

That’s why I’ve let everyone mold my life, my desires, my longings.  

Everything.

But I was okay with being weak.  

Because I didn’t care about any of those things anymore.  

I had already decided to die.  

But I was also too cowardly to go through with it.  

Too cowardly to live, too cowardly to die.  

So I’m not really angry at Sukuna.  

He just said what I already knew.  

But it’s not fair that he rubs the facts in my face—so I won’t forgive him so easily for that.  

Besides, he mentioned something he should never have said in front of me. 

Never. 

and I was going to keep ignoring him, but I can't afford that. 

It was clear I had to go to his room, and as much I hated giving in when he was the one who caused this.  

I have to do it.

Always giving in.  

Always accepting.  

Always enduring.  

But I can’t complain, can I? Because I’m weak.  

Life is unfair.

And the weak and unfortunate are the ones who must endure the most—and me, that I have the option to choose.

I lack the courage to do it.

To die.

Death.  

It had always seemed grotesque and painful to me.  

I’ve never seen a painless death.  

The wounded birds that came to my balcony, opening their beaks and twisting until their last breath—while I could only watch and try to make them feel comfortable in their last moments.

An old cat, my faithful companion during my most vulnerable years in the brothel, convulsed and thrashed when it died.  

Even my foster mother, when her body could take no more, exhaled sharply, squeezed my hand tightly—and then let go, cold and lifeless.  

Death was also chaotic and messy—the spilled blood, the plague and filth it brought with it.  

Today, death visited this place again. 

And though I should feel bad for them, I only feel a strange, gloomy numbness all around me. I felt no empathy for them—they were unpleasant to me in their treatment—but I didn’t wish for their extermination either. 

Is it wrong to feel nothing?  

I guess it is.

Just like you don’t mourn the deaths of those you don’t love…  

I suppose the deaths of those servants don’t weigh on me, except for how the scene disturbed me.  

I’ll burn some incense—partly for them, but mostly for myself—to calm my senses. 

But I won’t pray for their souls.  

Guiding souls isn’t my field.  

My job was to give pleasure, nothing more.  

But now… my job is…  

Just…  

To exist.  

Until my life fades and death—painful and undignified—comes knocking.  

Or until I finally decide to meet it halfway.  

Whichever comes first.  

And now, I must go face another being—one I call a friend, though he’s just as capricious, if not more, than death itself.  

And with the rays of the sun going down I realized that I had to hurry my decision. 

I pushed myself up, wincing as my broken arm swayed—only for Uraume to catch it with startling gentleness. With practiced motions, they fashioned a sling from spare cloth.

"Come with me," I whispered.  

Uraume’s hands stilled. "That is not my place to answer, not my call." Their voice steady, and signaled me with his hand to leave the room.

So I walked alone.  

The hallway stretched endlessly, bathed in the dying light of sunset. Blood-red and bruise-purple hues slithered across the walls, painting the wooden panels in fleeting, feverish colors. Each step echoed too loudly, as if the very house held its breath.  

And then—his door.  

My fingers twitched. Every stubborn instinct demanded I shove it open, to meet his gaze unflinching. 

But no. 

I wouldn't be better than him, I'd be the same.

And I can't do that, I know my place, and I know what's right and what's wrong.  

a fish cannot go against the current.

nor escape from the networks. 

I knocked. Three sharp raps that sounded like a surrender.  

Silence. Then—  

"Come in." 

The voice slithered through the wood.

Chapter Text

Currently, I’ve been amusing myself with the petty territorial squabbles along my borders—enough to warrant frequent excursions.

I could afford to be absent from your site for no more than three days at a time, sustaining myself with a steady flow of Reverse Cursed Technique, But doing it constantly was annoying and exhausting—even for me. Perhaps next time I'll have to bring you along … since I recall what you said last time—about them rarely letting you roam around the place, let alone let you see the outside. You’d come quietly and excited  —we both know it.

Now I have to take you out for a walk…

It's like having a pet.

Well I suppose I never really thought about it... but the reason I kept you around at that time (or tolerated you enough) was your silence. Sure, you were a pain in the ass sometimes, but you always knew how to give me space, and never pushed me, to be ‘ normal ’

No need for expectations, nor requests.

In addition to the obvious: The fact that you gave me food, clothing and, in the long run, a roof over my head. 

So…

Taking that into account I consider taking you out with me also I know you wouldn’t be a nuisance to be around.

Thus, I must admit this, I ended up developing a taste for strolls because of you . Something I would never ever be going to confess, because otherwise... I'd never hear the end of it on your part.

So I made a habit of patrolling during these intervals, in silence and solitude.

For days at a time, moving through the borderlands like a shadow. No entourage. No announcements.

And I was pleased with what I saw, surrounding territories simmered—alliances fracturing, petty lords posturing, their squabbles ripe for exploitation. The perfect time to consider expansion. 

Because.

Well

Why the hell not?  

What’s the point of being a king if you don’t remind the world of your power now and then?

and of course I was bored.

As an added delight, I learned Heian-kyō’s clans had convened an “assembly” to devise a strategy against the so-called “Calamity”  

Me 

But in their glorious stupidity, they opted for what they called “a biological weapon” —which promptly backfired on them, spreading across the capital until containment measures forced them to scrap the plan entirely. 

I couldn’t help it! I laughed my ass off at the poetic justice of their own scheme backfired in their stupid ass faces.  

By the time I returned to the estate, my mood was impeccably good.

Then you ruined it.  

“My lordship.” Uraume greeted me at the entrance, his voice was somewhat strained but I didn't pay attention to it.

“Uraume. You’ll love to hear this—it’s so pathetic it circles back to impressive.” I tossed the pheasants and boar I’d caught onto the entryway floor, already striding toward my baths. “But I'm starving, I need to wash out first.”I walked quietly into the mansion, passing by them, not paying much attention to anything in particular other than cleaning myself and the feeling of heat and humidity of the place “You.” A servant girl scrubbed the floor near my chambers. She flinched at my voice, eyes locked on the ground. “Fill the baths, now.”  I ordered, she nodded, scrambling away.

Then, because it was already afternoon I considered checking on my very own inconvenience— which truth be told I had grown accustomed to. Besides, for some days now I haven't seen the face of the person who had me in this dilemma.

I knew you were here since there was an absence of that stinging pain. Besides, you have nowhere else to go, nor any reason to leave me, but I liked seeing what you were up to.  Sometimes it was quite entertaining.

“My lord." Uraume's voice was frayed at the edges, with a palpable seriousness "We should address something first. It’s about—" 

The words died as I stepped forward.  

Nearly stumbling with: a plate of congealed broth, a cup drained to its dregs. A meal, the had been putrefied—meat sloughing off bone, rice bloated with mold. 

I slid the door open.  

And there you were.  

Lying flat.  

Like a fucking dog.  

The room reeked with a stifling, oppressive heat clinging to the disordered space. Empty, yet marked by your presence in the small areas you occupied, The rest lay untouched, shrouded in a layer of dust.  

Your desk bore and scattered papers with ink stains blooming like black bruises across the wood. I ran my hand over the rough surface and the ink was still fresh.

I plucked a stray page from that chaos

I picked up one of the written excerpts and read, and by doing so I kept reaching for more to read.

Taking another and another sheet of the scribbles you made.

You'd been writing letters to your friends.

How quaint.  

And utterly human.  

Your words blurred before me—frantic scribbles about me, the weather, about meals, about trivialities that meant nothing and everything. Each line was a disguised confession: you wanted to convey a life of tranquility and affection. 

A life clearly I couldn't offer you.  

The page crumpled in my fist.  

"My lord..." Uraume spoke softly, in a whisper, fingers brushing lightly against your neck—likely checking for a pulse.

“the fuck is this." I slowly turned to look at them, my gaze fixed on the both of them and the unfinished letter, though I also kept my voice low, almost growing.

" This ... is precisely what I wished to address."

Apparently, you hadn't left your room. Just by chance, Uraume had realized the truth today—when they’d passed through this section of the mansion, they'd noticed a dish they prepared exactly four days ago - barely touched.

When questioning the servants, they claimed not to have seen you for days but thought little of it. Asked why the food remained uneaten and untouched, they simply said they didn't know - it wasn't their assigned task.

Not their cleaning area.

Or Whatever shit of an excuse they could muster.

When pressed about your whereabouts, their reply came haltingly

That you hadn't been seen wandering the grounds for quite some time, no footsteps in the gardens. No sightings near the archives. Just this—a door left shut, and a life left unchecked. Uraume chose not to enter, instead They got ready to head to come to find me wherever I might be - because they thought you might have died.

Gods.

That bothered me, but what you said in the letters infuriated me.  

You wrote that you were doing well!

That you were happy . That everything was fine.

I didn't know "doing well" meant teetering on the edge of death by fucking starvation.

Under my roof.

STARVING TO DEATH UNDER MY WATCH.

I was beyond livid - more like absolutely furious that these insignificant fleas who leeches from my flesh and blood dared to interfere with my affairs.

But your face.  

The animosity toward everything.  

That apathy and dullness in your eyes.  

the fact that you'd pull away—that you'd avoid me. Me, of all people

It pushed me over the edge.  

You might as well have been dead already.  

I never thought I'd say this to anyone, but...  

I pitied you.

 And the wretched creature you'd become.  

You disgust me.  

Is this how I looked before?   

Before all of this?  

Like that?

I was acutely aware that you were a better person than most and that your heart outshone others' in kindness, even at such a young age, the way that your dreamy eyes looked at me with nothing more than tenderness at my feeble state—Meanwhile I couldn’t feel anything more but disgust and revulsion, looking at you.

My mind was in turmoil.  

Seeing those pretty eyes now sunken, that once energetic and determined girl was now in contrast with a frail figure like a branch in winter, your tear-streaked face irritated and eyes swollen— I wanted nothing more than to kill you at that moment.

In fact, it would do us both a favor—drag you out of your misery and for me to get rid of  this nuisance.

To kill you so I wouldn’t have to see you like this.  

To kill you to free myself from you.  

But I couldn’t do it.  

And I couldn’t blame anyone but myself for it.  

And I was a fool, because the servants were doing the a favor as well

They were doing what I couldn’t—what I wanted to do!  

But no.  

They only fueled my rage even more.  

Because they had no right.  

Any of them.

And i wouldn’t allow it.  

Because this, pathetic as it may be, it was my prey.  

MINE.

MY PROBLEM.  

So who did they think they were?  

I didn’t hesitate.  

The moment I left you in the bathhouse, I seized the first servant within reach—a trembling wretch who barely had time to gasp before I fisted their hair and hauled them up to my eye level. Their sandals kicked uselessly at the air as I leaned in close enough to smell their fear.  

"Listen well," I hissed, my breath hot against their paling face. "Gather every last worm in this mansion at the Gates. If a single soul is missing when I arrive..."  

I let the implication hang, watching their throat bob as they swallowed hard.  

"Consider yourselves dead."

With that, I flung them aside. They scrambled away like a beaten dog, their sobs echoing down the hallway as they ran to deliver my message.  It didn’t take long before murmurs began to ripple through the halls, trembling through every room.  They crawled out from every corner like the damned plague-ridden cockroaches they were.  

I couldn’t control myself.

How could I, after seeing that?  

You—collapsed on a disgusting and dirty looking futon in a room that stank of hospice decay.  

Like a dying animal.  

Lately, I've noticed subtle shifts in your behavior…

Withdrawn, near mute, lethargic, drifting through solitary routines.  

It unsettled me.

I remembered you as effervescent and dynamic . Now, you barely spoke. You avoided everyone like the plague

The presence I remembered back then was warm… like sunlight opening its way in spring, melting all the remaining snow and cold of winter.The way you used to fill rooms with your presence, your laughter sharp enough to cut through the thickest tension or my aversion to everything alive that was close to me. Now, you barely spoke above a whisper. Your gaze slid past servants like they were furniture and theirs skipped over you in turn, as if you'd already faded from this world.

Like a ghost.

And for a moment, I almost convinced myself this was somewhat normal. That time and the experience  had simply tempered your fire into something quieter, more refined.  

But i was wrong.

This wasn't maturity.  

This was erosion.  

I was right, you were slipping through my fingers, before my eyes.

Humans are innately social beings. It’s hardwired into their primitive monkey brains: Survival, pure and simple. By now, you should’ve bonded with someone—a maid, anyone beyond Uraume and me.  

That’s in their nature.  

Isolated humans only stem from two roots:  

They can’t simply coexist together, for being too different for them: physically, socially, psychologically. and those small differences push them to be rejected and exiled from their communities.

the individual chooses exile—voluntary separation from the herd and I would prefer a life of solitude, as long as they had enough elements to survive on his own, or had completely lost his sanity.

And the second seems to be the case here.

Why do you shun your own kind?   

A question I’ve yet yearn to ask. 

While your conduct seemed peculiar to me, it wasn't deviant and though I noticed!

I certainly wasn't so lacking in occupation that I'd scrutinize your every gesture - that's ridiculous…

The thought barely had time to settle before I found myself at the gates, the courtyard teeming with bodies—a writhing mass of servants pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, while their postures bent like reeds before a storm.  

I could almost taste their fear in the air.

Young maids clutched at their sleeves until the fabric tore. Sturdy laborers swayed on their feet like drunkards. Not one pair of eyes rose higher than my waist.  

"You know why you're here?..."  

My voice rolled across the wooden doors, shaking the lanterns in their brackets. The silence that followed was so absolute I could hear the drip of sweat hitting the cobblestones and the creaking. 

"I believe. I made myself quite clear." I took one deliberate step forward. A collective flinch rippled through the crowd. "Yet here you stand—waiting for me to repeat myself."  

The nearest servant approached, it was a wiry man with a scar across his brow—finally cracked. "M-my lord, we—"  

I didn't let him finish.  

"Four days," I said, circling him like a wolf or more of a wild dog seeing his potential hunt. "Four days, and not one of you maggots, thought to check if she was breathing?"

The scarred man’s knees hit the cobblestones with a crack that made the crowd recoil.  A woman near the back stifled a sob into her sleeve.

"Let’s play a game." I unsheathed a single claw, tracing it down the trembling man’s cheek. "Every lie you tell I will cost a finger. Every excuse—a hand. And if I hear ‘it wasn’t my duty’ one more time..." The claw paused over his eyeball. “I think creativity should be rewarded, don’t you think?!”

Silence.  

“You won't say anything then?... Too bad. Silence also has its cost.”

Then—  

"WE DIDN’T KNOW!" A teenage servant girl burst forward among the crowd, tears carving clean streaks through the dirt on her face. "She—she never answered when we knocked! We thought she wanted to be left alone! We—"  

I laughed. The young ones are always the ones with the most guts.  

"Oh? Then why," I purred, approaching her "did the trays stop coming?"  

The girl’s mouth opened trying to say something, Scanning the faces of her peers, searching for even a shred of support—but they averted their eyes, I stood inside it and I flinched my fingers. 

That bitch screamed so high that my ears began to hurt — it was a raw, gut wrenching animalistic sound, and I hadn't even done anything to her—yet.

The men hand tinked against the cobblestones. 

"Let’s try again, shall we?" I murmured, catching her by the face as she crumpled. Digging my nails deep into her jaw—oh, I think I pierced her cheeks! Ups. How... careless of me"Why Did.The.Trays.Stop.Coming?" 

I hummed as the blood patterned between our feet like summer rain.  

Thick and foggy.

The scarred man lunged. "MONSTER—! SHE'S JUST A GIRL! LE—" 

His head hit the ground before finishing the sentence. All that remained was a wet gurgle—then their body crumpled to the side, drenching another servant in blood

"Wrong answer." I stepped over his writhing body, the crowd parting like rotten silk. "But I admire the spirit."

I turned and looked down at her. 

“Now—what were you saying?”

Her eyes dropped in defeat.

“Nothing to say, huh?”

Disappointing…

I flicked two fingers in the air and with that she was split in two, by the torso.

She didn't answer what I asked for.

She whimpered and began to move.

 A shuffle. 

Then— nothing.

I looked out at the crowd, searching for another victim.

"W-we were scared!" A butcher I recognized from the kitchens fell to his knees, forehead pressed to stone. "She wouldn't answer." The servant's voice cracked "Wouldn't even... look at us . It was creepy… Lately the maids have spread rumors with each other. Saying…that the lady had gone completely mad, even saying that on occasions it was like speaking to a statue—just those empty eyes fixed on nothing at other times, she would talk to herself or start crying out of nowhere. " 

The scent of urine bloomed as his knees trembled against the blood-slicked stones.

"And then...out of nowhere, she stopped eating. Entire trays left untouched. We thought—" A desperate glance at the mutilated bodies around him."—if we stopped bringing her food, it would stop getting wasted…. and with luck, it’d get her to leave the room! but that was not the case… besides your lordship might not really care if she was…”

Dying?

The word hung unspoken, thick as the iron stench rising around us.  

I crouched, tilting the butcher chin up with my bloodied claw, looming my gaze on him -ready for the strike- before he suddenly, he looked away from me, point at two servants and scream: 

“THEY ATE IT! Saying it will be a waste, if the lady didn't eat it. They will, also saying that our lord wouldn't care ”

With my second pair of eyes, I fixed my gaze on them—pathetic creatures, trembling, baring their teeth, faces drained of color. 

But they also shout back: “LIES! He is jealous of you, my king. He just wants to be between the lady's legs!”

Wow, that's a surprise! 

But I think he is not the only one…

I bet her tights would be soft, even so tender and fleshy...I would like to bite off one of them until they bled.

and lick them.

slowly.

Dragging into …

I think my mind is trailed off…

“That's why he keeps pushing us to isolate the mistress! giving us more food than usual to extort us”

The butcher was not far behind and replied, "You lying cunt! You even said that she scared you and terrified the shit out of you! That she had lost her mind and that it was obvious that no one wanted to be around her”

The other servant said “My lord, He even bragged about waiting for the right moment, to comfort her and then having his chance with her, He even dared to say that you, my lord, couldn't satisfy her”

I hummed in answer, while looking back at him.

"You're in deep trouble, now."  His breath hitch in shallow bursts.  

"But I fear," I whispered, "that your greed blinded you… you overestimate yourself”

Blood soaked my feet again, and it seemed like it’d stain the whole yard at this rate.

"Four lines," I mused, examining the split-open body where crimson welled between the grooves. "I’d intended three! How... disappointing." 

His whimpers were a wet, gurgling thing—like a teakettle left too long on the flame.  Then I cleaved to the other two and I was starting to get bored.  

I straightened, flicking blood onto the faces of those nearest me.  

"If this is the collective wisdom of my household," I said, voice sweet as honey, "then I suppose you’re all overdue for retirement."  

A gasp. A shuffle. Then—  

"PLEASE!" A laundry maid tore through the crowd, throwing herself at my feet. "We’ll do better! We’ll—we’ll check hourly! Deliver meals fresh! Burst open if she doesn’t answer! Just—!" 

I stepped on her fingers. The snap of bones echoed.  

"...persuasive," I allowed. "But that was already your job, wasn’t it?”  My gaze swept the courtyard. "So here’s your lesson—carved in flesh, since clearly words escape you…" 

I seized on the woman's hand and I put all my weight on it. 

Tendons popped.  

“No better than damned animals but at least livestock serves a purpose…”

I must give her the credit for holding back the screams of pain! 

The courtyard had become a canvas of blood—limbs strewn like broken branches, the cobblestones slick with viscera. The air reeked of iron and voided bowels, the last choked pleas of the dying still echoing off the walls. 

The wrath overtook me like a fever.

No curse technique now. Just his bare hands and brutal force, clawing into warm flesh, finger hooking under ribs to pry openlike ripe fruit.

Screams overcome my senses, someone begging, other sobbing, as an arm came free from a shoulder, with a wet pop. 

Blood splattered my face, as the killing spree continued to unfold, that blood also smeared at the gates, like careless strokes all around it.

didn't care, I just wanted to see all the red.

Red.

By the time I lifted my gaze the square were a butchery wet dreams, limps here and there, torsos splayed open like flower blossom, viscera hanging as decorations on trees, a man still twitched as he tried to crawl his way out using his elbows, but I felt disgusted, so I crushed his skull with my foot. 

A massacre was necessary to improve my mood and I couldn't help but smile at my bloody work. 

Then—a voice, cut through, Clear and Steady.  

"My Highness." A young servant stepped forward, his forehead pressed to the ground, his sleeves already soaked red from dragging away the dead. "This one humbly suggests a new protocol." His voice didn’t waver. "A servant will knock twice at mealtimes. If there’s no answer, they will call for Uraume-sama immediately. No exceptions. No delays. No excuses." 

A beat of silence fills the air.  

With an improved mood and a desire to listen, I tilted my head . "Go on."  

"And..." He swallowed. "A bell. Hung outside her door. If she rings it, someone attends—no matter the hour."  

Perceptive, and shrewd I like that.

He’d pieced it together—not just what they did wrong, but the underlying subject. That this wasn’t just about their duty.  

But her .  

Or perhaps because I’m feeling better.

"You." I pointed with a bloodied claw. "You’ll oversee this. Fail me, and I’ll peel the skin from your bones slowly, as long as you're still alive, I'll keep doing it and healing you until I get bored of your screams"  

"Understood, my lord."  

The other servants started, trembling, as I turned away.  

The lesson was learned.  

"And you all better clean the fucking place up”

Blood on my hands had begun to dry up, between my fingers, so I ripped a strip of fabric from a corpse—one of the cleaner ones, if such a thing existed in this fucking mess—and strode to the pond near her chambers. The water turned pink as I scrubbed, the reflection staring back at me was distorted by ripples  

When I returned, the surviving servants had become statues—wide-eyed, cautious, breath held, their gazes locked on the ground as if the cobblestones and blood might be interesting.

"What?" I flicked wet fingers at them, droplets splattering across their faces. "Did you think I’d let you stand there gawking? Clean. Her. Room." 

No one answered or moved. They really love making me repeat things.

“Was I not clear? OUT OF MY SIGHT”

They scattered, some tripping over severed limbs in their haste.  

I retrace my steps, searching for her room as servants scurry about with buckets of water, frantically removing things and cleaning. Meanwhile, I begin my own search.

I didn't quite know what I was looking for... and I didn't find it.

To be honest, I found nothing at all.

Her room smelled of dust and itched my nose as I tore through the dresser near to the wall, a―and nothing. Just a single spare robe, threadbare at the elbows. No wonder she sometimes prefers to stay naked—she literally has no clothes in here, and the ones she had were dirty, stuck in a corner.  

The reality struck me: the place was barren. She'd brought no possessions in here except that cheap looking hairpin and worn-out calligraphy set.

Why would she have a hairpin anyways?since she always has her hair down...  

“Maybe these will be of use." I murmured, leaving the place.

I stalked toward the storage chambers, my footsteps echoing through the vacant halls. 

Lately, the place had become a graveyard of gifts of those who did not want to have any problems—silks, jewels, weapons—but lately, I was receiving more feminine things and correspondences with vague flowery praising Congratulating me for my "union" 

Perhaps they think that by buying this girl I have the intention of marrying her to create an heir. 

But that's nonsense. I don't need to get married to have an “heir’, mere procreation  is enough. 

Well in the end it would be useful .. 

I wrenched open the nearest chest, sending away a jade hairpin clattering across the floor. 

I was at a loss here, I have no idea what a woman would want to wear or what she might like.

Shiny things

Now that I remember it…

Way back in time, when her parents were still alive. 

With all that flushed cheeks and stomping feet, begging and pouting, telling me about how badly she wanted one of those 'magic stones' a merchant claimed to sell…

“When you angle it in sunlight, it casts the prettiest, shiniest colors on the ground! But Papa said it's too expensive and useless in the long run” You’d puffed up like an indignant sparrow, arms crossed over your tiny chest.  

I hadn’t looked up from my whittling “Your father's right, It's just worthless junk”

“You're taking his side too?! That's so unfair!” your foot stamped “Girls like pretty, shiny things, you know!”

“So girls like useless things” I responded while still whittling wood into arrows.

“That's not true! I like you!” You’d whirled on me “and you're not useless at all”

“Cut it. Don’t push it, stup―pid.”

“You're always so grumpy!” you told me while hugging my back and made me cut deeper than I planned making the wood splinter. “don't be coy! I like you a lot!” 

I ignored her, focusing on the next arrow—until small hands gripped my sleeve.  

Too late.  

A press of lips against my cheek, fleeting as a butterfly’s touch.  

"Even if you were useless, I’d still like you!"

Her voice rang with that infuriating, unshakable certainty only children possess. The kind that carves itself deeps inside you.  

My knife stilled.  

For half a breath, the world narrowed to the ghost of warmth on my skin and on her…  

"Tch." I flicked her forehead, hard enough to make her yelp. "Annoying"

But the wood in my hands stayed uncut long after she’d run off, laughing.  

Still, to this date I don't understand you.

nor why you liked shiny things…, But even though they were silly and had no real use, I could give them to you now.

So I ended up grabbing a fistful of whatever gleamed—gold-threaded robes, pearl combs, Oh—a weapon. That could be useful, a dagger, to be more precise with a hilt shaped like a snake.

What the hell am I doing?

Then i paused on my tracks.

Clothes.  Remember, you came for clothes.

And something hit me like a slap in the face 

Idiot.  

she’d need something to wear right now! After being dropped on the bathhouse. (and thrown into the water in the process) 

She had nothing else to change to. So I snatched the nearest ensemble. There were several fabrics to choose from, but one caught my eye, a reddish-dyed silk, sturdy but soft—I like this. I wanted to see her in this…

Then and hauled the lot back her room and I ended up throwing it to the side of the room.

Not gonna lie I just ended up grabbing a bunch of things that might please her.

Then I snatched the red garment from the pile—and flung it at some trembling servant girl. "Give this to Uraume. Now."  

As she scurried away, I surveyed the room. Despite the loot I'd hauled in, it still felt hollow.

I pointed to a freckled and thin maid pressed against the wall. "You. You’re a woman. What’s missing here?"  

Her breath hitched. "M-my lord, perhaps... a dressing screen?"* She pointed at her dresser  "I think… our lady likes privacy..."

Privacy . 

The word rumbled in my mind. 

Yeah

I believe they sent an ornamental screen too. 

“And” I pressed.

“A mirror?" she ventured. "She... sometimes studies her reflection in the nearby pond.”

Mirrors are shiny!

I knew it  

so you might like it as well…

*

It took a while until you entered the room and began to inspect everything within it.

The moment you stood before me—those hollow, sunken eyes of yours were staring through me like I was just another decoration in your room—something that just aggravates my annoyance.

You looked better. Cleaner, more put together and calm…

Oh, but how could I forget?

The way the crimson silk licks at your skin—my choice and favorite color—sends something primal humming through my veins. It’s not just that it suits you.  

It’s that it claims you.  

The pallor of your throat against the fabric, the way your fingers clutch at the sleeves and you start playing with your fingers like you’re afraid…

It's pathetically endearing

And Mine, mine alone.  

A dark chuckle rumbles in my chest.  

Now I'm just rambling.

But still, I noticed that underlying emptiness of yours.

and I decided right here:

  I'll drag it out of you.

I'll carve through your numbness with my claws and teeth until I hit something that you cannot hide from me, something real. Even if I have to crack your ribs open and see that pretty heart of yours pumping in pain, tear it from your chest and watch it thrash on my palm.

I'll gladly do it.

Whatever it takes.

I want your teeth at my throat, your nails raking my skin. I want you to fight me, to bite me down hard on my wrist and swallow my blood.

GIVE ME SOMETHING.

Show me you're still alive in there.

Even if the remnants of your sanity snaps, I want to see it, to taste it, to lick the tears that will gild on your cheeks and savor it like a feast.

Break. Burn. Snap I don’t care—just do something!

Anything

a reaction. 

I want your rage.

Yes…

I won't hesitate to rip, twist, tear that something that will ignite your fury from the very depths of your soul in the most grotesquely painful way possible. I'll dig through the wound and twist until I wrench a reaction from you.

No matter what method I use.

Intimidation. imposition. Manipulation. You name it.

But I'll get what I want. I always do, and you won't be the exception.

Because I refuse to accept you as a lost cause.

If I have to deal with you, you'll at least make it enjoyable and entertaining for me.

And I'll pressure you.

Until you break from the strain.

Or explode in rage from it.

But this antipathy?

Is. Not. An. Option.

If the price is your tears,

Then you'll cry tears of blood.

If I have to put you through hell to unleash your potential, then I'll gladly be your personal tormentor and executioner.

Hate me. Despise me. Reach your breaking point and beg me to let us part ways.

And if that doesn't work?

Then you'll have no choice but to exist within my whims and desires.

Being utterly and indefinitely mine.

And that something did not allow me to take eyes, hands, mind, out of you.

After that conversation , if it could be called that. 

Sukuna crossed his room in three strides and slumped onto the engawa*, his broad back lay down against a wooden pillar for support. The evening air should have been cool by now, but it sat thick in his lungs ―cloying, unsatisfying, staring blankly at nothing in particular, realizing that he felt tense. Though objectively, his day hadn't been particularly strenuous.

But mentally? That was an entirely different matter.

He felt...

Strange.

Confused.

Why did everything that had happened today irritate him so much? 

It is contradictory,

It shouldn't be a big deal. 

Not really.

Not enough to cause such an uproar, not enough to pull him from his comfort and turn the household upside down.

Why was he doing this?

Sukuna began tapping his fingers against the wooden floor, meditating, thinking. 

Counting…

Why was he doing this for her?

It brough no gratification, no pleasure, nothing he could point a finger on.

He gained absolutely nothing from playing the hero.

Because that's exactly what he was doing.

Saving her.

Again and again and again.

and he wouldn't be that 

Not a protector. Never been one.

Not of her. Not anyone.

He devours.

He consumes.

He takes what he wants, and discards what does not appeal to him.

So if he knew exactly what he was…

Exactly what he wanted…

Then why?

Why play the role of a savior?

Why put up with this? 

Why did this situation bother him so much?

Why did seeing you like that , and letting yourself be trampled by everyone around set his nerves on edge?

He was certain that if he saw in someone else what he saw in you, he'd mock the fuck out of their uselessness and weakness mercilessly.

Why couldn't he do the same with you?

Did he see potential in you?

No.

That wasn't all of this

It was something deeper.

And he kept thinking this…

Over and over again

Reliving the moment of that inner urge grow for the deeper side of his insatiable interior

An urge. 

that weighed on him.

heavily.

He really wants that.

No.

He demanded it.

A sign. Anything.

A proof.

That you're not just an empty shell, in  human form…

The urge to see that fiery passion that's deep down is inside you.

Something. 

Anything….

And just there. Just now, he realized something.

He couldn’t turn a blind eye, not anymore.

He’d laid eyes on something

And by doing so, he’d claimed it as his.  

His to prey upon. 

His to consume.

His to satisfy by.

His to kill.  

his.

“Do you know the only difference between you and the men who used me before?" Your voice had rumbled in his head, as he closed his eyes  "You paid upfront for the privilege to humiliate me."

Humiliate you?

Not really—you did that just fine by yourself, with your sniveling, weakness, your pathetic attempts to claw back some semblance of control.

The memory of your words coiled in his gut, he recognized you'd said it solely to provoke him (just as the same way he provoked you on purpose) your intention was as clear as day: you’d aimed for his pride, the worst part was... it worked . You'd crawled under his skin and struck his ego.

And oh, how bad he’d itched to correct you.   

To pin you against the nearest wall and squeeze until your throat yielded under his fingers, until those defiant tears spilled over.To watch your nails rake his arms in futile struggle, leaving trails he’d wear like trophies.  

You will take it back.  

You will choke on every syllable.

But then you’d slipped through his fingers.

And that— that —had been…  

Amusing  

The way the hem of your robes had fluttered like a wounded bird’s wing. The way your breath had hitched just before you vanished around the corner.  Claiming this was over.

Pathetically pretty in his eyes.

He’d let you go. Not out of mercy, but because the hunt was half the pleasure for your misdemeanour

And now—  

A whisper of knuckles against wood.  

Right on time.  

His lips curled as he watched the last sliver of sun bleed from the sky.  

You’d come to him just as time almost ran out.  

And just now, I have the delight  of having a brat to tame.

Chapter Text

“Kuwabara, kuwabara*..."  

That old superstition slipped away from my lips like a prayer. A ward against misfortune, one my mother has taught me to do when afraid... and I am scared. I pressed my forehead on the wood before the door trying to anchor myself—to drag my senses back to solid ground—not that I believed in such things anymore… Not after everything. But at this moment that's exactly what I need.

Hope

To believe in something! so, please, gods, spirits, or fate—

Grant me a strength I no longer remember how to hold. 

The shoji slid open with a whisper.  

Inside, the last embers of sunlight painted the walls in golden brown, stretching the silhouette of someone who had only grown more manly and massive,imposing with time. Sukuna’s back greeted me, shoulders broad enough to blot out some of the light.  

And yet—  

Something twisted inside my chest. Not fear. Not entirely… 

Yet perhaps... just perhaps... this terrible man had given me something in return.

Something I might have mistaken before. After leaving the brothel and spending some time in here, maybe I'd reclaimed slivers of my pride or self-esteem…

Even while knowing I had to yield to get what I wanted...  

I refused to surrender completely to him. 

I was frustrated—at him for his cruelty, at myself for my helplessness.

But.

I wanted to keep at least some defiance.  

So I chose silence. 

a silent and peaceful rebellion.

I'd only speak if he spoke first! That way, he would be obliged to break the ice. 

After all—  

He wanted this.  

He summoned me.  

It's only fair, isn't it? I came to him, but he's the one who has to do the talk.  

Besides, men should take the initiative anyway.  

Heh.  

So I let silence swell between us, one hand on my lap, while the other remained cowering in the sling.

The silence stretched between us, thick as summer humidity—until Sukuna exhaled heavily through his nostrils and turned just enough to reveal the ruined half of his face.  

The scarred, rough portion he hid when we were children —textured like tree bark, weathered and coarse, much like himself. 

You also hid that side of yourself for me. Didn't you? The cruel and sadistic one.

Or maybe he didn't and I was too naive to even notice.

He gave me a mocking snort. Then faced away from me, looking at the twilight sky.

"Must you make me repeat myself?" His lower hand drummed against the engawa, each tapping into wood. "What’s the point of coming if you’ve nothing to say?" 

The victory curled warm in my chest. 

I couldn’t help it—a satisfied grin spread across my face. He’d yielded first in this silly game I’d invented.  

“I want my letter back." I demanded it, no pleasantries, no beating around the bush .

"Then speak”  he snorted, drumming his finger impatiently. I was getting under his skin, I know it..

“Not to you” I moved my head to the side, trying to physically avoid him, even though he clearly couldn't even see me.

“You don't have much of a choice, don't you?”

“I don't think it's my place to give explanations.” I pressed on and continued speaking, so softly that I even surprised myself, I could still be sarcastic! "I'm not the one who throws a tantrum over trifles things. So I don't think I owe you a single word, My Lord .” the word rolled off my tongue.

So in return. He snapped his neck out (it creeped me out just a bit. I won't deny it), turned all the way to glare and squint his set of eyes at me, one muscle in his cheek twitches and frown lines carved deeply between his brows. Oh, this is quite the show.

Watching a King grind his teeth over a little nuance. Oh, it was delightful

It was sweeter than candied fruit, more exquisite than anything. I really enjoy this sadistic pleasure of getting under his skin, and love provoking him, because he won't do anything about it (That's how it was before, so let's hope it stays that way). And oh, how I would've loved to see his face when I wounded his precious pride—or at least, I like to think I did... even just a little. 

But the glint in his eye warned me—  

Don't push too far.

So I tried to act nonchalantly about it, and avoid the way he stared at me.

The weight of the day pressed down on me like a physical thing—every muscle, every bone drained of strength.Fear had burned away hours ago, leaving only numb exhaustion in its wake.  

But a question still lingers in the air and in my mind…

The hell could he possibly want from me?  

And I was tired of this push-and-pull thingy we’ve been having today—as if we were playing some twisted game of cat and mouse. (And let’s be clear: he was definitely the cat) So I let go of the rope and allowed myself to be caught. Not without a healthy dose of sarcastic commentary on my part, though—it’s the only thing I have left…

Or maybe he's still upset about what I said, and wants to get it out of his system too or teach me a lesson.

“So what does the all mighty ‘ King of Curses’ want to talk with a simple courtesan like me?” while I air-quoted the title in a mockery manner. Suddenly, I felt a pressure that made me lose my balance or I would better describe it as putting pressure on my chest …

When I opened my eyes again. I was pinned—back flush against the chill wooden floor, hair scattered everywhere and Sukuna looming over me.

I mean, this really isn't that bad at all... except for the fact that my arm hurts like a bitch and 

I'm so angry that I feel horny. 

Angrily horny.

Which makes me feel even more frustrated!

Oh yeah, I almost forgot this: a clearly annoying man, much stronger than me, who had killed people without compassion was over me. 

His left toned forearm caged me in, muscles taut (for fuck sakes! why he must be so fucking toned) while his right hand settled at my throat, thumb pressing just shy of crushing it.

Then—worse, or should I say better?—He glided his other calloused hands between my thighs, opening them deliberately and slowly.

“Stop playing games with me. Woman”

He hissed the words to me, but I perceived it more as growl, reverberating through my ribs or…. 

I don't even know by this point. 

Should’ve stayed silent.

 Should’ve bitten my tongue.  

Oh but how could you resist the temptation? The urge?

Can you blame me? I am a weak woman…

"Oh?” I let out a breathless laugh. "Didn’t take you for the rough type. But..it's fine with me. I don't mind it” 

I think this time, I might’ve gone too far, but I had to do it.

“Naughty boy”

Now I was thoroughly fucked. 

Because we were close. Too close—noses brushing, breathing each other's exhalations So close that if I moved, even a inch I could easily press our lips together and shit and that's exactly what I wanted. 

I wanted to make the most indecent advances possible …

But his eyes... they screamed he was at his limit, beyond livid, like hell fire but instead of just going with whatever he says I just kept pushing his buttons.

His grip on my throat tightened further as his hand—clumsily, almost experimentally—dragged higher along my inner thighs.  

Am I supposed to feel intimidated or horny, or confused?

Don't know. 

Don't care

Fuck it.

I want it

I want him

Right now.

Right fucking now.

So I moved, teasing him. opening my legs wider, giving him the space and the access that he, according to what my eyes tell me, craved….

and he reciprocated, because… once he left go, one of my tights, the good stuff started.

His hands navigated to my hips, and the bastard yanked me toward him—hauling my torso upright in the process. Roughly. Forcefully. Or was it hungrily? With want?.

My back arched awkwardly because, of course, he was so much larger than any man... the position felt unnatural, and  my spine protested at the unnatural angle.

But I didn't listen.

Because I needed the friction! 

Need our hips to roll against each other. 

And grind my now wet cunt on his fucking dick! 

So I started moving along his hilt and oh it felt so go—od. Thank the gods I didn't have undergarments on, and by my slight movement Sukuna grunted . 

Yes he grunted against my lips and it was hot as hell. 

Matching my pace, until we were rubbing together, like fucking maniacs. I felt him dig his nails into my thigh, and something hot came from it but that was okay. 

Everything was okay

Everything was fine .

Perfectly fine

I just needed this.

And I sighed, because the ache of my core was only growing and growing, becoming more demanding, more stingy.

Needing more of it. More of him. more of the friction.

I'll be surprised to say it, but I stopped moving, I needed to keep myself in check, but… I wanted to put him to the test. To see if he too would be able to hold back, to see how far he’ll allow this to go on for. Yet he kept going, Sukuna was doing all of the work for me by grinding his hips, my own shifting against his dressed cock, the movements were somewhat sloppy but decent.

decent enough to give my goosebumps and made my eyes rolled back in my head, because. 

for all that is sacred…

Even beneath the layers of his clothing, I could feel it, the bulge peeking from his crotch pressing on mine. Sending shivers down my spine.

I bet he must be as thrilled as I am with how hard he is, as well as my growing wetness.

fuck.

It's going to be a problem to get mad at him, with a thing like that.

I could feel his temples pressing harder against mine, and what can I say? greed guided me and took the best of my judgment.

So I raised my face just a little to tease him, by pressing my lips on the corners of his while I greeted him with a quiet muffled moan.

I have to give him a treat for all effort, right? An encouragement.

but that only made his grip on my neck getting stronger, as he kept quickening his pace.

Like an animal.

 Up and down. 

“You fell so—o good” he slurred the last part, in a murmur.

We can agree on that. 

it felt so good, but. I had a problem on my hands or should I say between my legs? 

Because my thighs were spread to my limit and my spine as well as my arm was screaming in pain. 

Something that for future references I'll tell him that I'm going on top.

Fuck— if this continues like this… 

I couldn't contain my spasms, this guy it's really going to reach my limits.

Im so wet…

I need him, inside of me. To fill me up. 

How badly I wanted to just fuck this man right now.

Fuck him relentlessly until one of us lost our mind. 

Fuck him while im mad at him, fucking tame him like a wild anima l to need to be put now.

Make him whine, whimper, subdue his damn ego and composure until I dominate him completely.

Until the only thing that he could was grunt and moan my name with his voice all coarse. 

Although perhaps the one who needed this the most was me. I needed to be back in control and I loved how intercorse helped with that.

Sometimes I like to be dominant in sex.

My clients were looking for just that, submission . The need of someone who had all the control, told them what to do, when to cum, while I on the other side helped me maintain my self-stability and feel like my life belonged to me... 

His lips moved—mumbling words I couldn’t quite hear, because I was lost in thought, and in the way that crimson abyss looked back at me.

He began to slow down its pace, to brush the tip of his nose against mine, and caressing my thigh in little circles.

Sending a shiver down my spine (or my throbbing cunt), making my heart keep racing, but different this time…

Oh no…

This wasn’t just physical.  

Men don't do this…

No to me.

Not these caresses... these subtleties…

No. No. No.

Only one man had done it before…

The one who irreparably broke my heart.

I knew it firsthand. 

This was something entirely else.

And freaked the shit out of me.

Because it wasn’t the first time Sukuna had reciprocated my affection. I’d even shown some to him—and that was fine, because I’d always been the one to initiate, with him merely following my lead.

 But this?

This had come solely from him.

Alone.

It was his initiative.

And that was very strange to me because it didn’t feel like a touch that was sexual... or even playful…

Sure, a friend can fuck you, but there are certain limits that are impossible to cross…

Even.

I was comfortable with the fact that sex was transactional. 

To be an object.

Fucking was familiar, even a conforting source of control or be shower with attention.

And money.

But this—the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, the unspoken tension thickened between us—crossed a line no friend would ever dare.

"Why do you make everything so difficult?" He whispers roughly exalting, everything he could.

I forced a laugh, brittle and hollow, as I raised my good arm to touch his hair. I always liked this color in particular, like blossoming cherry trees "It’s not that serious, Sukuna..."  

But I guess he didn't like my answer. Because he moved his head annoyed, squinting and fixating on my face, red irises started to burn like bonfires with something I couldn’t quite place, and he separated our bodies, which disappointed me. " Do you even have an ounce of self-respect?"

The question struck like a slap. 

That's definitely a big turn off. 

If I say so myself.

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words laid flat on my tongue.  

I didn't respect me, that's the problem.

And why did I have to bring my problems to the surface at this time? Especially in this situation.  

Why do you insist on that?  really it doesn't matter to me anymore.

Not when you have a persistent desire to be better off dead.

You came a little late to ask me for that. 

"You don’t know what I’ve been through,"I finally muttered while I was short of breath “That's not fair”

"No? Well life isn't fair either ." He pulled back sharply, disgust twisting his features."And I’ve had enough of your self-pity. It 's pathetic."  

"Oh, and you just have to fix me, is that it?" I shoved his hand away from my neck , my voice rising. "Just because you say so? Guess what? That’s not how life works!"

nor trauma.

"It is how it works with me." He stood abruptly, his shadow swallowing me whole. "Whether you like it or not." 

I scrambled to my feet, straightening my clothes with my hands, trying to hide wrinkles or the arousal  "Whatever you say, buddy. Just give me the damn letter."  

Maybe out of exhaustion, or just to end this conversation, or maybe just maybe because he ended up having a good time.( more than he wants to admit) —he finally, caved in, opening his kimono, showing a bit of that buff tattooed chest and took out the letter which I snatched it from his hand, when it came into my sight.

I walked away from him and I turned my back to place the letter on the floor and—goddammit, why is this so hard to open one-handed?! 

Sukuna watched me struggle for a moment or two before losing his cool. And yanked it back, unfolded the paper himself, and— the audacity! This man does not know about privacy ?—started reading it without my permission, right in front of my face!  After a moment, he hummed to himself, handed it back, and my eyes frantically scanned the contents.  

The excited part of me, the furious,or the most present one, worried. Freaking out, to be exact. 

Because I made her swear. 

Fucking swear, in the name of our surrogate mother.

Not to write to me unless something VERY important had happened.  

To my dearest Sister,

Blue mornings find me searching still for you, though I know you won’t be there.

Eyes weary from weeping looking through the bars for your news about you.

Are you even thinking of me? You swore we were one part of each other.

Looking at the stars tonight, I whispered your name to the wind.

For what use is a sister’s love if you refuse to answer?.

You carved your promise into my heart. Was it all a lie? You remember don’t you?

P.S. Please don’t be angry at my impulsiveness. There’s no need to repay me—I’ve already received enough for you and  what you left behind for me. It wasn’t necessary.

Longing and missing you,

Ame

This is... strange.

My fingers traced the uneven lines of ink, the way certain letters sat heavier on the parchment than others. That girl was reckless, yes—but never careless. She sent this with a reason beyond reproaching myself for my lack of communication.

I mean If she’d gone to the trouble of writing, she’d have screamed her message plainly.

Unless…

she thought I couldn't!

Of course she thinks Sukuna is a monster,  she must think he doesn't allow me to write letters or receive them without reading them first. 

So I went over tracing my fingers against the paper but nothing. The fibers held no hidden marks, no scent of lemon juice. Just... jagged spacing, I had taught her not to write this way.

“If you have to hide something, do it in plain sight, no one will suspect it." 

At plain sight…

Maybe if I read the first settences

Blue mornings, Eyes weary

My breath hitched.

Blue... Eyes... Are...

Ame youre were a prodigy!

A grin split my face as the message unfolded before me:

BLUE EYES ARE LOOKING FOR YOU.

…

Wait.

Wait―

What?

WHO IS LOOKING FOR…

Oh..

No.

Shit.

But it's ok

It 's ok…

You're not freaking out.

 ….

I'm definitely freaking out.

"Your friend writes ... weirdly." Sukuna’s voice slithered over my shoulder, sudden and too close. His breath stirred the hair at my nape as he loomed, studying my face with intensity.

don't panic .

don't panic.

don't panic.

don't cry.

I stiffened, fingers tightening around the parchment. 

Play it cool.

Everything is fine.

No,

This is not a good sign…

WHY NOW? 

What am I going to do? 

I URGENTLY NEED TO RESPOND HER LETTER

"She’s just―grieving. I'm all she's ever had."

Sukuna snorted at me "Grieving? She’s whining ." His claw tapped the paper with mocking precision. "Look at this—no structure, no rhythm. Just a mess of complaints, like a child who never learned proper structure.” 

“Hey—" I snapped the letter away from his touch, “—don't you dare criticize her. I'm the one who raised that girl.” A sharp exhale through my nose. "Hell, I taught her to write. So if you've got complaints, take them up with me." 

"Ah." His lips curled, lifting an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth twitched until he burst into laughter, which bounced throughout his room. He was an asshole

 I just limited myself to rolling my eyes at him. "Now that makes sense.”

I tilted my head, squinting up at him. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" But before he could answer, I waved him off. "Actually, never mind. I don’t care." 

 I stood—done with this nonsense and with him. I just made up my mind to retreat to my room. I’d scribble a reply, then deal with the other problem between my legs, I need to get rid of this urge, to RELIEVE this. I have to put my priorities in order. 

Or at least, that was the plan … Until Sukuna’s hands settle on my hips. Not gripping. Not forcing. Just... resting, there like he had every right to touch me. 

Well and maybe he does! when I'm in a good mood, but now I'm pissed at him so, no.

I shot him a sidelong glare, with equal parts of disdain and surprise with the universal ‘the fuck are you doing?’ kinda look.

But he didn’t budge. One pair of eyes traced the curve of my waist; the other bored into mine, unblinking.  

"What now? What do you want?" I demanded, oozing venom.  

"Answer me," he said, voice low. It could even pass for something slightly sweet by his tone "How do you even plan to write when your dominant arm is broken?”

"Oh, please—” I scoffed. "You don’t even remember which—"

"Right" His fingers flexed against my hip bone. "I remember, You are the one who has the worst memory out of the two of us.." My heart skipped a beat. "So. Unless you’ve suddenly become ambidextrous—which I highly doubt." He wasn’t wrong, but damn the lack of faith of this man “Will your reply be legible, or just pathetic scratches?"  

"Why do you care? If you're not going to help me then don't get in the way” I told him as I turned my head forward again and completely turned my back on him. 

“you’re helpless without me," he said, matter-of-factly."And we both know it." 

"I never asked for your help!"

"Maybe." His thumb brushed the dip of my waist—almost tenderly. "But it's just so happens that you need me. ”  

The moment his hands withdrew, I braced myself for some kind of cruelty or a backhand comment—but he merely turned toward his desk, gathering everything with precision and normalcy. Water splashed into the inkwell as he ground the ink stick in slow, deliberate circles. The scent of pine soot and fresh ink filled the room.  

I didn’t dare to move. Because I was mesmerized by the movement of his hand and the scent. It was so fragrant and nostalgic for me, what kind of oil had they burned to achieve that smell in the ink* or maybe... it was perfumed? This guy counts money to waste, the ink i managed to get was always poor quality.

"Well? Are you coming?" He didn’t glance up as the liquid blackened. "Or do you plan to write from over there?"  

A muscle in my jaw twitched. I took one step. Then another. Until I loomed beside his desk, close enough to see the flex of his tendons as he tested the ink’s consistency.  

"Sit." 

I lowered myself onto the tatami floor—only to yelp as his lower arms hooked under mine, manhandling me onto his lap. My back hit his chest; his thighs caged mine.  

“Write”

“Wha—? You want me to write?" My voice dripped with disbelief. “Right here?”

"Must you make me repeat everything?" Sukuna’s upper fingers drummed against the desk, impatient "Or are you just that desperate to hear me speak?" 

I twisted to glare at him—Only to see him take a quick glance to the side, I followed his gaze, leading me to focus on the blank page in front of us. Urging me to begin. With that infuriating look of go on, try it, if you can smirk plastered all over his face.  

Pretentious asshole.

Fine.

Fine!

But of course—I couldn't!

But what I can do is buy myself some time. 

I needed to think how to write a decent letter with the underlying  message "I'm fine. Tell him not to come."  

Easy right?

But it is not helping me at all, the fact I hadn’t slept much, saw dismembered bodies, fought with Sukuna twice, and nearly fuck him at the process.

Well, at least try something. He’ll laugh at my attempts, I’ll retreat to my room. 

that works for me.

Stick to the plan.

So I attempted something simple—the recipient’s name. I seized the brush, ignoring how it dwarfed in my grip. The ink bled instantly, pooling into Rorschach blots where Ame’s name should’ve been…

My hand shook—from exhaustion of the day, from the phantom weight of severed limbs in my vision and from the way Sukuna’s breath hitched in amusement on the crook of my neck.

The characters bled together, in an amalgamation of  blotches and chaotic streaks. Completely unreadable.  

Despite my optimistic plan, it was really going to be difficult to write this, almost impossible. 

I can't write. I need to make precise movements, and I can't.

My hand hurts and cramps, and the result is a shaky, shapeless line. 

so I got frustrated and stopped writing, dropping the brush indecorously.

Sukuna’s hum vibrated through my spine as he contemplated my “letter”; his lower hands settled onto my hips as his upper ones took the paper hostage, holding it up mockingly.  

He whistled and said "Wow. Credit where it’s due," hands anchored me tighter against his thighs and thumb stroking my waist. "I think you made out... two, maybe three words out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever” I tried to rise, but his hands shoved me back onto his lap. Demanding. Then, he used his magic and the paper shredded into small pieces.  

“What a shame," he murmured, lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Shall I write it for you?"

Chapter Text

Who even understands this guy? One minute he's all furious with me—giving me one of the worst days ever since I arrived: blood, gore, death, manhandling me all day long, slamming my chin onto the floor, broke my arm (okay, technically not him, but I'll blame him anyway), and deliberately triggering the worse experiences of my life. The next? We're all over each other like horny rabid animals, to be suddenly all this lovey-dovey ...

Of course this is suspicious. I’m not the smartest woman in the province, but come on. I know he wants something from this—whether it’s me perched on his lap or intel on what I’ll write to Ame (very likely, given his new obsession with reading my letters or violating my privacy).  

But.   

I’d be an idiot not to exploit his temporary benevolence. This arrangement benefits me too... though now I’m pressured—literally and figuratively.

 I need to carve out some kind of mental space to think clearly about this. 

A concise message should work…

Maybe something like:

I’m fine. Tell him to stay away.

So I craned my neck to glare up at him. The lower pair of eyes crinkled in amusement ( which I'm not going to lie, was kind of cute ) while the upper one remained focused on the brush, its tip darkening as he dipped it into the inkwell with meticulous care.  

"Begin," he commanded.  

"Uhm… ‘To my dear friend, Ame’ —" 

The words had barely left my lips when his grip on my hips tightened, pulling me closer against him. This bastard!— I twisted my head to shoot him a venomous look, only to be met with that infuriating, lopsided smirk of what is the matter? . His free right hand moved with deceptive elegance across the page. 

"Why do you hesitate?" he murmured, the vibration of his voice rumbling through my ribs… don't divert your thoughts. This is not the time to think about the provocative way in which he is speaking to you… Let's start with the season's greetings, I must figure out something.

And fast

I gritted my teeth in a way to suppress my growing frustration " I hope summer treats you well, and you remain in good —aah!" 

Sukuna's hefty hands began pressing in a slow, deliberate roll of my hips against his lap. With his lower left fingers crepting higher, tracing slightly the dip of my waist and the curve of my abdomen—every touch igniting sparks I desperately wished to ignore.  

"Yes?" he prompted, voice dripping with false innocence.  

" H-health ," I stammered, my breath hitching as his thumb circled a particularly sensitive spot that tickled me.

The brush paused. "How caring…" he mused, leaning down until his lips brushed my ear. "Shall I write that you moaned her name too?"

Mother - fucker.

"Are you going to keep writing or what?" My voice was a sharp of frayed patience by the way his fingers traced forbidden paths up my inner thigh.  

"Mmm." He hummed as his upper left hand seized my face, thumb and forefinger pressing into my cheeks until my lips puckered mockingly. "You know how much I enjoy helping you."

This bastard wasn’t helping at all!

“So. . . focus on the content." He hummed  as he slowly dragged his knuckle down my lower lips while his eye never left my face, always attentive. "I’ll focus on... writing. I will do all of the hard work" 

I wrenched free from his hold and I gave him a snarl, earning a lighten chuckle. "Next phrase, raccoon" Again with that fucking petname. But… for the gods, the way his voce purred, while inking the brush "Take. Your. Time."

It was infuriating! 

Oh and I fucking would.

" I deeply apologize," I bit out, readjusting myself in place to make him uncomfortable, two of us can play this, " for failing to write regularly. I’m still adapting to my new...environment—t! " 

 The sentence fractured as Sukuna forcefully hitched my yukata higher, baring his finger along the bruises of my thighs—His touch burned trails along the marks, alternating between featherlight caresses and punishing digs into tender flesh.  

Who the hell taught you to do that? 

The brush scratched across paper, steady despite the way his other hands made my breath stutter. "Go on," he murmured, teeth now nibbling my ear. "Tell your dear friend how well you’re adapting."

But two can play this game, and boy, I'm the Queen of teasing. 

I shift on my sit (his lap, to be more precise, his crotch) deliberately grinding my hips and ass in the process, causing me to feel a shiver down my spine that I was able to hide but in response, I earned a low grunt for him — though I did fell his hands tremble but just for a moment to then grabbing aggressively my inner thighs.

“Hmmm Fine weather grace around the place, though it feels hollow without your laughter …― What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I smirked—wicked, deliberate—and tossed my hair back, the strands whipping against his face that still hovered in my ear. “Aren't you the one who says you're going to do all the hard work?” I emphasized my words on the hard part. Then when I finally dared to look, his expression gave nothing away. No anger. No joy. No sorrow. 

He was just there…

…

Maybe, all of this isnt right 

Maybe I pushed this far too long.

Maybe he was just fooling around and I pushed him to the edge…

Maybe he doesn't know how to say no to this anymore. 

Maybe he doesn't want any of this with me.

Maybe I'm forcing all this interaction. 

Maybe I'm forcing myself into him…

Maybe—

The thought flickered on my mind because Sukuna hadn’t shoved me away… yet. Hadn’t laughed in my face or mentioned anything…On the contrary his hands still lingered tightly around me with labored breathing.

That had to mean something… 

Right?  

No. No. No.

What are you doing?!

Focus . 

I dug my nails into my palms, the sting of it dragging me back to my senses. 

Stop drowning in your own fears and stop projecting yourself.

This isn’t the time .  

Sukuna’s voice rumbled against my head—words I didn’t process, just static beneath the roar of my own pulse. He shifted beneath me, his movements rearranging us both, but my mind was elsewhere:  

Think something!

Anything!

I need to be wise with the word choice

The letter wouldn’t win any poetry awards or be considered as a standard writing, but it would work. it had to.  

A few moments passed and I already had something in mind.

“ Tell me, how have you behaved in my absence, my dear child. — Hm...?" My thighs prickled with cold—then I glanced down. My yukata had ridden up, bunched at my hips, leaving skin bare to the dim light.  And there I felt it, something hot and throbbing. Near my swollen sex…

It was from him…his, for the gods … the length and thickness of it! was otherworldly.

Sukuna was taking it to another instance …that's petty! But a mischievous smile appeared on my face because it was perfect!—a distraction! I need to distract him so he won't notice my message…

or that I'm taking too long dictating my answer…

I brought my mound closer to its tip and Sukuna’s breath hitched at the contact—a barely audible sound that sent a traitorous thrill down my spine.  

“Ha—a! My child?” He said haltingly after what I think was a moan as he placed his face on my head, taking a deep breaths. "Should I address you as 'mommy' then?"  

The syllables curled like smoke from his tongue, vulgar and sweet all at once…

For all things that are sacred. 

My pulse stuttered. Of all the things I’d imagined him saying (I have imagined a few) I never thought of the growling in that slutty voice. 

But Mommy ? shit that was new. Even for me.

and weird, but in a good way?

or am I just sick in the head? for serving weird ass customers.

Then his hips rolled.  

Slowly. 

Deliberate.  

Taunting….

"Nah. I don't think I like calling you that”    

Damn this man and all he’s teasing… he was so close to my entrance... I just wanted him to impale me and fill me whole.

Is that too much to ask?

“I prefer more…woman. My wo—.”

He lunged again, frantically and demanding with a special attention to my now needy soaking wet slit spreading all over my folds with rocking movements. I bet my face was getting flustered because it felt warm as my stomach was starting to tense up. 

Why did he feel so good? So warm, I need some air! my breath hitch and worked as I felt my mind cloudy, foggy.

Not being clear, and that was not good for my end goal.

"I didn't tell you to stop talking, did I?" The tip of his hilt was rubbing against my sensitive and eager button, making me throw my head back to his broad inked chest, squeezing my eyes shut until some tears were spilling from my sight.

“Hm—m! So go—od” I murmured, in awe, while I felt something warm licking my tears. 

“Come on… go on.”

The sun had long set, and the quiet darkness of night embraced us. It felt so easy going—this anticipatory thrill of flesh and pleasure in a man's arms. 

Natural. 

Familiar.

But this wasn’t the time to lose myself in pleasure. And I couldn't afford it.

As much as I wanted to let myself go.

I needed to get myself together and pretend..

I must distract Sukuna, by any means. Because he might be an asshole, but he wasn’t a stupid asshole. If I wasn’t careful, he’d notice my secret message—and I will be truly fucked either way, in the literal sense and my plan ruined, unable to send that secret message. A—and I had no energy left to deal with the fallout of it. Not after our earlier discussion nor today’s events.

What better distraction than a warm body and shared pleasure? The perfect way to divert a man’s attention from what truly matters.

“ Them, the girls—do they ask after me? — Fuck Sukuna! ― I imagine their whispers and chatter, which must have worried you . ” 

The friction and humidity of all was intoxicating!—like alcohol that slides and burns in your throat or herbs that are burned in the kiseru, his scent, thick, musky with a hint of iron and sweat, filled my lungs. The sound of bodies colliding and clapping also echoed and bounced in the walls of his chambers, His form blurred my vision, the rhythmic scratch of his brush against parchment was the only anchor to reality. Focus . The letter had to be decent enough.

His grip tightened on me, fingers digging in as his pace intensified. A pleasure that was difficult for me to ignore was beginning to coil tight in my lower abdomen.

“ ‘Nothing could ease this distance, but your letter’ — I dictated, breath hitching as he thrusts eagerly. — and memories are comforting." Sukuna’s laugh rumbled dark against my ear. 

"You write like a courtier, so correct, so formal. So many fucking words for saying nothing” His free hand tangled in my hair, "Just say it plainly, woman" My cunt clutched into nothing, but my nails were embedded in his toned forearms "Just—Fuck! keep moving, just like that…”  For a moment, his head dropped forward—and I felt his skin prickle against mine “finish this damned letter already."

As the ink bled across the page, so did the unspoken warning—hidden in the spaces between his strokes and my stifled moans.

“ Sukuna’s estate is adjusting to my presence. But the servants are distant ” I tried to recompose, but my voice was strained. I kept looking at the words which were innocuous, the spacing—just slightly too wide between lines— I really hoped Ame can also understand what I'm trying to tell her.