80s AU where Hiromi works as a librarian in a small town beside the sea. Yakuza head Sukuna hides in that town hoping enemy clan does not find him, and he gets bored so starts visiting the library, pubs and thats where he meets Hiromi. Hiromi does not notice at first but slowly he keeps noticing the tall buff guy with face tattoos keep taking books home very frequently, and also all of them are about law, history, politics, philosophy everything that Hiromi likes to talk about.
So one day he strikes a conversation with Sukuna and they talk for a long time, eventually both of them asking to meet at the local pub later in the evening. They meet, drink together, talk about themselves. Sukuna lies about him being a businessman and he is here in the small town for some fresh air. Plus he wants to establish a shop here Hiromi says he was bored of the life in Tokyo and he is here. He was a lawyer back then. They talk till late night, hoping to see each other soon in the morning. Sukuna's days are not boring anymore, he meets Hiromi, they have lunch together in the local park, sit together in silence, discusses about world matters, or the new book sukuna is reading. now both of them read together, and have long walk at the beach, goes to other town for cherry blossom viewing.
Sukuna invites Hiromi to his traditional style home. He cooks dinner, and watches movie drinks tea side by side. It sort of clicks and they end up sharing their first kiss. Hiromi leaves, and they meet the next morning. Sukuna teases him a bit, Hiromi tries to ignore him. but they hold hands and walk by the sea, and sit there in silence.
Sukuna contacts his men in tokyo with the only telephone booth at the town. Sukuna asks them to gather info about a certain lawyer Higuruma Hiromi just out of curiosity. He hears that his enemy clan is searching the whole country even abroad as well. so he better stay hidden.
Hiromi and Sukuna fix on a date in the evening and Sukuna is supposed to pick him up from his home. He hears several gunshots, and runs towards the source, flower bouquet falling from his hand like dramatic movie scene and he sees Hiromi's body lying there. It was a message for Sukuna from his enemies. Hiromi survives, tho because he moved away so the bullets hit his thigh. He is taken to the hospital, and Sukuna calls his subordinates once again from the pay phone. That's when he hears about who higuruma hiromi is. He was a defense attorney who was in charge of a wrongfully convicted individual. But the Judge and opposition who were corrupt political leaders got away and his client was punished. He ended up killing the court members and now running away from the police. Nobody knows where he is now and he is still hiding.
Sukuna is more fascinated after that of course, and he visits Hiromi at the hospital. He thinks he is ready to break things off, for Hiromi's safety at least. before he can speak, hiromi asks him who he really is. Who the real Ryomen Sukuna really is because for a long time he noticed that people keep following Sukuna. Hiromi confronted similar group outside his house and that's how they fired their bullets. Sukuna confesses that he is head of a yakuza clan and he is hiding from Tokyo here. He shows the fractures he got all over his body. they are taking time to heal but Sukuna is happy that he got to meet Hiromi and spend time with him. Hiromi says he has also done his fair share of bad stuff, and that they are compatible in this sense.
Sukuna says he knows, and he is happy to find that out. Hiromi pulls him for a kiss and asks where they go from here now. Sukuna hugs him but does not say anything. He waits till Hiromi falls asleep and writes him a letter saying he is thinking about leaving. This town can live without Ryomen Sukuna but not Higuruma Hiromi. He asks his men to torch the house.
Next evening he plans to hop on the train but before he gets on it, he sees Hiromi calling out his name amidst the sea of people. He runs towards the source of the sound, and then finds Hiromi struggling to walk with the crutch. Sukuna yells "What are you doing here? You are Injured," and Hiromi beats him up with his crutch. then yells back, "Take responsibility of making me fall in love with you!" Sukuna pulls him in his arms again, the train starts speeding up in the background (cinematic)
Sukuna's enemies let's say Naoya comes to get his ass beat by 0.0001% of Sukuna's power (he is injured after all). Sukuna moves into Hiromi's house and they start living like old married couple. But Naoya appears and gets his ass beat, then the zenin clan sends toji. Now Toji kidnaps Hiromi on his way to the library and asks for Sukuna to come get his man. Hiromi gave him quite a beating but it did not work. Sukuna asks his men to find traces of Toji and his fam meanwhile he walks into the obvious trap of the warehouse. fight happens like the Raid movie, (one of the best fight choreography imo) and Hiromi's consciousness returns. So he discovers that the whole warehouse is full of explosives. Toji then threatens that he will blow up Hiromi if Sukuna does not surrender and goes with him to the Zenins.
Sukuna is injured too since he got already broken bones. so he tells toji to stop the fight and let hiromi go. Toji says he lied and blasts the whole warehouse. he leaves, and Sukuna desperately tries to search for Hiromi in the rubbles. He finds him somewhere else hidden away. So Sukuna now takes matters into his own hands. Sends Hiromi somewhere else to hide this time and he stays at the town. There are Zenin clan, Gojo, and Kamo clan after his ass so he now will deal with all of them. He says fuck injuries they dared to hurt his lover.
The night before they sit by the sea and Sukuna is ready to take down the three clans. they talk, kiss and Hiromi says he wishes he could help Sukuna. Sukuna gives him a gun to keep with him always. Then Gakuganji appears in the guise of a beggar and tries to kill Sukuna but Hiromi shoots him. Sukuna gets impressed once again but tells him to keep the gun usage low. They spend the night in each other's arms and in the morning Hiromi goes to other city with Yuji as his bodyguard.
Sukuna, on his way to Tokyo gets attacked by countless people in train and fights them all, and his men soon takes control over the vehicle. they reach tokyo, and goes to his old headquarters. He hangs up a picture of Hiromi and talks to him over the phone. Then, fixes up a meeting with the Zenins to take care all of them.
He searches and finds Maki Zenin and asks her to take care of the rest. Maki wipes out all the Zenins, and then Sukuna promises a deal between him and Gojo clan. takes some 6 months long time to fight and propose a truce among big yakuza clans, and then he one day thinks of Hiromi. How happy he were at the small town, and he wants to live a life like that. So he appoints Uraume as the next head, since Yuji refuses to take the lead of yakuza and retires.
He meets Hiromi again at the sea beach of the small town, now one eyepatch hiding his eye from the endless fight for the and Hiromi runs towards him, hugging him tightly. Sukuna also notices another set of scar on his forehead, kisses it.
They build a house, Sukuna opens up a diner at the local marketplace, and everyday after work Hiromi visits the place. They kiss, eat dinner together, and sometimes dance together to the song playing in the radio.
Higukuna fic Masterlist // All chapters // Previous Chapter
Chapter Summary: Hiromi and Sukuna starts developing an unusual bond
The wooden veranda of Higuruma estate is too big for someone like Hiromi. The whole house is surrounded by endless greenery. Just at the front of the house, lies a koi pond where Hiromi’s eyes roam, he gets lost in thought staring at the orange and fishes swim. The bamboo water fountain rocks back and forth in its set rhythm, each slap against it’s root echoing softly through the still air. Hiromi is seated on the veranda, his back straight, hands resting on either side as his legs dangle over the edge.
He cannot help but marvel at the difference between Sukuna’s house and this grand estate. The Higuruma residence is massive compared to Sukuna’s house, with sliding shōji doors opening to large gardens where sunflowers and morning glories bloom side by side. The entire structure of the main house is firm, no storm or calamity can not move it an inch.
Even Hiromi’s own room is wide and filled with filtered sunlight and it could easily swallow Sukuna’s entire home.
“Here are more tonjiki for your friends, Higuruma-San. They seem hungrier today,” The servant hands Hiromi the wooden box and ruffles his hair.
“Yes!” Hiromi offers her a warm smile.
He pushes himself up from the ground and breaks into a run, sandals slapping softly against the dirt path. His breath comes in quick bursts as he weaves through the narrow path. He has to be quick, before anyone sees him heading toward the so-called cursed house.
Lies. Lies. Lies. That’s all grown-ups ever do, Hiromi thinks bitterly. There’s no demon waiting to snatch him if he stays up past nightfall, no evil spirit lurking behind to hunt him. Adults make up scary stories to scare kids.
He doesn’t know why the place is marked as forbidden, but he knows there’s a boy inside, a boy like him, someone who hasn’t eaten since yesterday and is starving. And that, he decides as he runs faster, is reason enough to go.
Hiromi quickens his pace, his pulse pounding in his ears as the world blurs around him. By the time he reaches the house, his legs ache and his lungs burn. He stumbles forward, collapsing onto his knees in the overgrown yard, one hand pressed to the ground as he tries to steady his breathing.
When he finally lifts his head, he sees Sukuna sprawled across the weathered veranda, face turned to the side. For a moment, Hiromi thinks the boy has fainted. But then his gaze catches on something else and his eyes widen from the shock. From the folds of Sukuna’s poorly tied kimono, two extra arms jut out.
Hiromi’s breath falters.
Hiromi rubs his eyes hard, once, twice, but nothing changes. The strange sight remains. He swallows, grabs a fallen stick from the ground, and tightens his grip. If Sukuna really is a demon, or an ayakashi like the rumors say—then he’ll hit him once and run as fast as he can.
With each careful step, he moves closer, the stick trembling slightly in his hand. When he finally peers over the veranda, the tension in his shoulders melts away.
Sukuna lies flat on his stomach, fast asleep. His mouth hangs open, a thin line of drool falling from his open mouth. One of his teeth is missing, and his breathing is slow, loud, and he feels completely human.
Hiromi lowers the stick.
A sleeping tiger cub, he thinks, watching the boy’s chest rise and fall.
He shakes the sleeping boy, “Sukuna!” He calls out to the kid.
“Umm…” he opens his eyes and sees Hiromi leaning toward him. He sits up, rubs his eyes and blinks a few times at the black-haired boy.
“I brought food for you,” Hiromi raises the wooden box on his face level.
Within seconds, Sukuna takes the box away from him, and Hiromi stares blankly that the pink haired tiger cub has started eating rice balls. To be more precise, devouring them. He blinks and stares at the boy and sees him finishing every single one from the box with each of his blinks.
“So good!” Sukuna says, mouthful and a small smile playing on his lips. “Your mother’s cooking is delicious!”
Hiromi lowers his head. “Actually, my mother is not alive.”
“Oh, did you eat her?” Sukuna asks, his red eyes staring wide at Hiromi.
“W-what?!” Hiromi yells. “Are you an idiot?”
“No,” Sukuna shakes his head and pushes another rice ball in his mouth. “My mother said I ate my brother in her womb so he died. I got his body, though.” He shows his extra pair of arms from under his two arms and points at the burnt side of his face.
Hiromi takes a deep breath. Now that he is seeing Sukuna, he can clearly see that the small holes on Sukuna’s right side of the face, are infact two small eyes.
“You look like a bug,” Hiromi draws closer, narrowing his eyes as if he is inspecting something very important. “Like a dragonfly! More hands and more eyes!” Hiromi raises his index finger in air.
“Oh,” Sukuna pouts, blinking at the boy. “I never saw any dragonfly. What are those?”
“Ahh,” Hiromi stares at Sukuna disappointed. ”You never even saw a dragonfly! Come with me to the forest!” He tries to drag the boy but then suddenly remembers the chain on his foot.
“I don’t go outside. People will get terrified of my appearance.” Sukuna points at his face.
“You are not terrifying,” Hiromi sits down before him once again and takes away the wooden box. “You don’t seem hungry anymore,” he says.
“No!” Sukuna shakes his head. His extra arms rest over his waist and he crosses the upper arms over his chest. “I am full, happy! You are God!”
“Huh?” Hiromi feels his cheek heat up, “You say some weird things, you know.” This is the first time he is hearing something good from a kid around his age.
“Will you come again tomorrow?” Sukuna asks, staring at Hiromi with wide eyes once again. “H-Hiromi, right?”
“If you want, I will come again tomorrow.” Hiromi says. It is better to come here everyday rather than being mocked by those kids at the field.
“Bring food for me too,” Sukuna points at the empty wooden box.
“You just want to see me for the food?” Hiromi is disappointed once again. But also, he is happy that he gets to meet a kid like this.
“You are sent by God, right? My mother says God sends food for us. I prayed all day so I got food. Your clothes are not dirty like me too, so you must be from heaven.”
Hiromi laughs loudly. He does not know what type of fairy tale his mother has been feeding him but this is the funniest thing he has ever heard.
“I am from the Higuruma family. I am human, just like you. I am rich and I get food all the time. Some day, I will take you there. My house is big, too.”
Sukuna stares at him for a moment. Probably he realizes how different their lives are in retrospect of things around here. How socially different they are from each other.
Hiromi looks at the sun, and realizes it’s almost time for his father to return home. It would be a trouble if he is found at home.
“I should get going,” Hiromi stands up. “Your father must come home too, right?”
“Father? I don’t have any. I don’t know who my father is.”
Hiromi sighs.
“I will come back again tomorrow, okay?” Hiromi waves his hand before running off.
Sukuna sits there, thinking of if God truly has sent someone his way.
He will wait for Hiromi to come.
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The green expanse opens wide, vivid and radiant beneath the scorching midday sun of summer. The fields stretch endlessly, shimmering under the golden light that pours down from above. Children dart across the open plain, chasing one another, laughing, and playfully jabbing their friends as their joyous voices ripple through the warm air. The echoes of their laughter fill the space. Makes it even brighter and livelier.
Among them sits a boy apart from the commotion, a sickly, fragile child whose frail body contrasts sharply with the energy around him. Draped in a silk kosode and wearing a polished wooden sandal, he sits quietly on the grass, arms wrapped tightly around his knees as if to hold himself together. His posture is reserved, knees drawn close to his chest, the elegance of his garments contrasting the rough play of the common children before him. His gaze follows the other children, eyes wide with silent wait. He blinks, watching them run and tumble and shout, hoping that they might turn toward him, call his name, and welcome him into their games. But the laughter continues without him, and no one seems to notice the small, still figure sitting in the middle of the boundless green.
“U-um… please, I want to play with you all too!” the boy finally says, his voice trembling with a mix of hesitation and irritation. His thick eyebrows draw together in frustration, and his dark eyes glare at the children running across the field.
“No! You’re too slow! You always trip and fall,” one of the kids shouts back, not even pausing in his play.
“Higuruma, you’re such a bother!” another yells, laughing loudly as the others join in.
Hiromi’s small frame stiffens. He rises to his feet, fists clenched tight at his sides, jaw tightening until his teeth grind together. “Then why do you all always ask me to bring tonjiki and eat them, huh?” he snaps, voice breaking with anger.
“Because you’re rich!” one of them calls out, grinning. “Whatever you’ve got, we’d like to eat it!”
The laughter rings in Hiromi’s ears, sharper than the summer sun above. His hands curl into fists before he even realizes it. His jaw tightens, lips pressed into a trembling line.
“What’s so funny?” he snaps, his voice slicing through their laughter. “Say it again.”
The kids pause, startled for a second, then one of them grins. “Oh, the rich boy’s mad now?” another teases.
That’s the last straw. Hiromi storms forward, his silk kosode flaring around his legs. His geta dig into the dirt as he closes the distance in three quick steps and shoves the loudest boy hard in the chest. The boy stumbles back, losing his footing.
“You call me slow again!” Hiromi yells, his voice cracking but fierce. “Say it one more time!”
The taller kid stares at him with shock, “You think you can fight, rich boy?” he barks and swings a hand out, pushing Hiromi’s shoulder. But Hiromi doesn’t back down. He pushes back harder, shoving him again and again until the other kids rush in.
Hands grab at sleeves, someone yells, and the air fills with dust and scuffling feet. Hiromi ducks under a wild swing and hits the boy square in the side, his small fist landing with more will than strength. Another kid tugs his hair, and Hiromi twists, elbowing him away. It’s messy, desperate and full of childish fury.
“Stop it, stop it!” one of them shouts, but Hiromi doesn’t stop. He lunges at the boy who mocked him, tackling him to the ground. They roll in the grass, dirt smearing across Hiromi’s fine sleeves, the expensive silk creasing and tearing at the edge.
“Take it back!” he yells, breathing hard, his voice hoarse and trembling. “Take it back!”
The boy beneath him squirms, face red, finally gasping, “Fine! Just get off me!”
Hiromi slowly stands, brushing the dirt from his knees, his breath still unsteady. “If you hate me,” he mutters, voice low but firm, “then stop eating what I bring.”
“Get him!” one of them yells.
A kick lands against his ribs, another hand yanks his hair. Hiromi lashes out, hitting, scratching, doing anything to fight back. Tears sting his eyes, not from pain but from humiliation.
“Think you’re better than us, huh?” one boy sneers, panting. “In your fancy clothes?”
Hiromi’s breathing turns ragged. “I didn’t…” he tries to speak, but another shove sends him sprawling again.
Then, from the edge of the group, a thin boy with a sly grin says, “Let’s take him to the Oni’s house.”
The words fall like a chill wind. The others go quiet for a moment, their laughter faltering.
Hiromi looks up, confusion flashing across his red face. “What… what are you talking about?”
The sly boy grins wider. “The abandoned house by the woods. They say an Oni lives there. Maybe he’ll like eating spoiled rich kids.”
The others exchange glances, half scared, half thrilled. The idea catches like wildfire among them. “Yeah,” someone snickers, “let’s see if the Oni wants him!”
“No! Let me go!” Hiromi shouts, struggling violently as two of the boys seize him by the arms. He kicks and thrashes, wooden sandals scraping harshly against the dirt, but they are stronger, their grip does not loosen at all. The others laugh, cruel, as if they have never seen anything this entertaining in their entire life, closing in around him.
Before he can regain any footing, two more boys grab his legs. Hiromi’s small body is hoisted into the air like a cut-down tree log, limbs dangling helplessly as the group starts moving toward the forest at the edge of the fields.
As they march through the forest, hoisting Hiromi like a heavy log, the boys begin to chant in a teasing, sing-song rhythm, their voices louder with each step they take closer to the forest:
“Rich boy, weak boy, what a surprise, Off to the forest where the curse lies! Oni waits with eyes so wide, Step inside, get eaten, no way to hide!”
The sun blazes above as they drag him toward the tree line, where the green turns darker and the air cooler. Hiromi struggles, breathless and furious, the once-bright field shrinking behind him.
“Let me go!” he screams, voice cracking. “You’ll regret this!”
The Oni’s house looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the blazing green of the fields. Every villager has whispered about it in hushed, fearful tones, that this is a cursed place, they say, where anyone who steps inside is doomed to bear the curse forever. Its walls are warped and cracked, the roof sagging like it might collapse under its own weight. Even the bravest of men avoid it, crossing to the far side of the street or running past with quickened steps. The air around it feels heavier, as if sunlight itself hesitates to touch its shadow.
Hiromi struggles against the grip of the older boys, but they drag him closer with cruel insistence. “The Oni will get you!” one of them hisses, half-laughing, half-shivering at their own story. “You’ll be cursed forever!”
His small heart pounds, fear and anger mingling. He’s always been frail, always been careful, yet now he’s being forced toward the house no one dares approach. He glances at the crooked doorway, the broken shutters, and for a moment, the whispered warnings of the village crawl into his mind.
The children throw Hiromi toward the dilapidated hut and then scatter, their laughter fading into the distance. The wooden walls rise unevenly around him, warped and jagged, enclosing him in a tight, oppressive space. A narrow, rotting veranda runs along the front, its planks cracked and splintered, some hanging loose like broken teeth. The faint creak of the boards under Hiromi’s feet echoes through the empty space as he steps onto it, sunlight filtering through gaps in the weathered roof and casting jagged patterns across the dirt floor inside. Shadows pool in every corner, crawling along the walls like dark fingers.
He moves cautiously, eyes scanning the ruined interior, when a low hiss cuts through the silence. On a pile of broken planks near the far wall, a snake coils, tongue flicking, fangs bared toward his ankle. Hiromi freezes, a shiver running through him, small hands shaking in fear.
“A-Ah!” Hiromi screams.
Then, a sudden movement. A boy with messy pink hair, taller and broader than Hiromi, lunges at the snake. His hands clamp around the slick body, twisting and tearing with feral strength, blood spraying across the dirt and the splintered veranda planks. The snake writhes and hisses, but he holds firm, finally tossing its lifeless body aside.
He straightens, chest heaving, and grins at Hiromi. Two teeth are missing from his jagged smile. “Don’t worry,” he says with a shrug, blood smearing his sleeves. “I’ve got this.”
Hiromi swallows hard, the terror of the snake still thrumming in his veins, and glances at the rotting veranda, the splintered boards and warped railings surrounding him.
“T-thank you?” Hiromi stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. He keeps his eyes fixed on the boy before him, studying him with a mix of awe and unease. The boy is larger than Hiromi expected, a bit stout, and somehow carries the restless energy of a wild animal, like a tiger cub pacing in a cage. One side of his face is peculiar, the flesh twisted resembling that of a burnt mark, and also two extra holes as if he has an extra pair of eyes, and his messy pink hair falls in uneven strands over his forehead.
He wears a small, torn-down kimono, clearly tailored from an old woman’s garment. The fabric is patched and frayed, tied hastily around his torso with loose knots, as if he had dressed himself in a rush. The boy sits back on his heels, rubbing his belly absently, eyes lingering on the snake he threw aside, blood still streaking on its body.
Hiromi’s gaze drops and freezes. One of the boy’s feet is bound by a long, heavy chain, the metal link rattling faintly as he shifts. His breath catches. The boy notices Hiromi staring and tilts his head, a small, almost sad smile curling across his jagged grin.
“My mother… she kept me shackled,” he says simply, voice soft yet edged with something like pride. “So I don’t curse other people.”
Hiromi blinks, confusion knotting in his chest. “C-curse…?” he murmurs. He is a just a kid like him, how can he even curse others?
Before Hiromi can even gather his thoughts, the boy’s stomach growls loudly, the sound startling the quiet of the hut. He presses both hands to his belly, eyes squeezing shut, as if trying to quiet the twists inside of his stomach. When he opens his eyes, they land on Hiromi, and that’s when he notices his eye color.
Red orbs look like gemstones, his father often bought from foreign merchants.
“Can I… eat the snake?” he asks softly, voice tinged with hesitation.
“Ehhh!” Hiromi almost yells, stepping back instinctively. “Never! No!” He straightens, fists clenching at his sides, heart hammering with disbelief.
The boy glances down at his belly again, poking it lightly with one small index finger, lips curling into a pitiful little pout. “B-but I’m hungry… I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” he mutters, his words soft, almost childlike.
Hiromi swallows hard, and for a moment, his mind flickers to the image of a small, pouty tiger cub from a picture book he once saw, a tiny, round face, pink fur, and wide eyes.
“Hold on a minute!” Hiromi jumps from the veranda. “I will get you something to eat!” Hiromi starts to run towards the greenery but pauses midway and turns his back.
“What’s your name?” He asks.
“Sukuna. Ryomen Sukuna.” The pink haired boy says. “And you?” he whispers.
“Hiromi. Hiromi Higuruma. Nice to meet you, Sukuna.” Hiromi waves at Sukuna. “I will come right back with lots of delicious food!”
Hiromi runs away, keeping Sukuna seated on the veranda. Sukuna cannot but think to himself if he has scared the child away, or if eating the snake would be a good choice.
At least he can fill his belly till his mother comes in the evening.
He tries to reach it, but fails, because his feet do not allow him to move that far. He has thrown the snake quiet far away from the house.
The green expanse opens wide, vivid and radiant beneath the scorching midday sun of summer. The fields stretch endlessly, shimmering under the golden light that pours down from above. Children dart across the open plain, chasing one another, laughing, and playfully jabbing their friends as their joyous voices ripple through the warm air. The echoes of their laughter fill the space. Makes it even brighter and livelier.
Among them sits a boy apart from the commotion, a sickly, fragile child whose frail body contrasts sharply with the energy around him. Draped in a silk kosode and wearing a polished wooden sandal, he sits quietly on the grass, arms wrapped tightly around his knees as if to hold himself together. His posture is reserved, knees drawn close to his chest, the elegance of his garments contrasting the rough play of the common children before him. His gaze follows the other children, eyes wide with silent wait. He blinks, watching them run and tumble and shout, hoping that they might turn toward him, call his name, and welcome him into their games. But the laughter continues without him, and no one seems to notice the small, still figure sitting in the middle of the boundless green.
“U-um… please, I want to play with you all too!” the boy finally says, his voice trembling with a mix of hesitation and irritation. His thick eyebrows draw together in frustration, and his dark eyes glare at the children running across the field.
“No! You’re too slow! You always trip and fall,” one of the kids shouts back, not even pausing in his play.
“Higuruma, you’re such a bother!” another yells, laughing loudly as the others join in.
Hiromi’s small frame stiffens. He rises to his feet, fists clenched tight at his sides, jaw tightening until his teeth grind together. “Then why do you all always ask me to bring tonjiki and eat them, huh?” he snaps, voice breaking with anger.
“Because you’re rich!” one of them calls out, grinning. “Whatever you’ve got, we’d like to eat it!”
The laughter rings in Hiromi’s ears, sharper than the summer sun above. His hands curl into fists before he even realizes it. His jaw tightens, lips pressed into a trembling line.
“What’s so funny?” he snaps, his voice slicing through their laughter. “Say it again.”
The kids pause, startled for a second, then one of them grins. “Oh, the rich boy’s mad now?” another teases.
That’s the last straw. Hiromi storms forward, his silk kosode flaring around his legs. His geta dig into the dirt as he closes the distance in three quick steps and shoves the loudest boy hard in the chest. The boy stumbles back, losing his footing.
“You call me slow again!” Hiromi yells, his voice cracking but fierce. “Say it one more time!”
The taller kid stares at him with shock, “You think you can fight, rich boy?” he barks and swings a hand out, pushing Hiromi’s shoulder. But Hiromi doesn’t back down. He pushes back harder, shoving him again and again until the other kids rush in.
Hands grab at sleeves, someone yells, and the air fills with dust and scuffling feet. Hiromi ducks under a wild swing and hits the boy square in the side, his small fist landing with more will than strength. Another kid tugs his hair, and Hiromi twists, elbowing him away. It’s messy, desperate and full of childish fury.
“Stop it, stop it!” one of them shouts, but Hiromi doesn’t stop. He lunges at the boy who mocked him, tackling him to the ground. They roll in the grass, dirt smearing across Hiromi’s fine sleeves, the expensive silk creasing and tearing at the edge.
“Take it back!” he yells, breathing hard, his voice hoarse and trembling. “Take it back!”
The boy beneath him squirms, face red, finally gasping, “Fine! Just get off me!”
Hiromi slowly stands, brushing the dirt from his knees, his breath still unsteady. “If you hate me,” he mutters, voice low but firm, “then stop eating what I bring.”
“Get him!” one of them yells.
A kick lands against his ribs, another hand yanks his hair. Hiromi lashes out, hitting, scratching, doing anything to fight back. Tears sting his eyes, not from pain but from humiliation.
“Think you’re better than us, huh?” one boy sneers, panting. “In your fancy clothes?”
Hiromi’s breathing turns ragged. “I didn’t…” he tries to speak, but another shove sends him sprawling again.
Then, from the edge of the group, a thin boy with a sly grin says, “Let’s take him to the Oni’s house.”
The words fall like a chill wind. The others go quiet for a moment, their laughter faltering.
Hiromi looks up, confusion flashing across his red face. “What… what are you talking about?”
The sly boy grins wider. “The abandoned house by the woods. They say an Oni lives there. Maybe he’ll like eating spoiled rich kids.”
The others exchange glances, half scared, half thrilled. The idea catches like wildfire among them. “Yeah,” someone snickers, “let’s see if the Oni wants him!”
“No! Let me go!” Hiromi shouts, struggling violently as two of the boys seize him by the arms. He kicks and thrashes, wooden sandals scraping harshly against the dirt, but they are stronger, their grip does not loosen at all. The others laugh, cruel, as if they have never seen anything this entertaining in their entire life, closing in around him.
Before he can regain any footing, two more boys grab his legs. Hiromi’s small body is hoisted into the air like a cut-down tree log, limbs dangling helplessly as the group starts moving toward the forest at the edge of the fields.
As they march through the forest, hoisting Hiromi like a heavy log, the boys begin to chant in a teasing, sing-song rhythm, their voices louder with each step they take closer to the forest:
“Rich boy, weak boy, what a surprise, Off to the forest where the curse lies! Oni waits with eyes so wide, Step inside, get eaten, no way to hide!”
The sun blazes above as they drag him toward the tree line, where the green turns darker and the air cooler. Hiromi struggles, breathless and furious, the once-bright field shrinking behind him.
“Let me go!” he screams, voice cracking. “You’ll regret this!”
The Oni’s house looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the blazing green of the fields. Every villager has whispered about it in hushed, fearful tones, that this is a cursed place, they say, where anyone who steps inside is doomed to bear the curse forever. Its walls are warped and cracked, the roof sagging like it might collapse under its own weight. Even the bravest of men avoid it, crossing to the far side of the street or running past with quickened steps. The air around it feels heavier, as if sunlight itself hesitates to touch its shadow.
Hiromi struggles against the grip of the older boys, but they drag him closer with cruel insistence. “The Oni will get you!” one of them hisses, half-laughing, half-shivering at their own story. “You’ll be cursed forever!”
His small heart pounds, fear and anger mingling. He’s always been frail, always been careful, yet now he’s being forced toward the house no one dares approach. He glances at the crooked doorway, the broken shutters, and for a moment, the whispered warnings of the village crawl into his mind.
The children throw Hiromi toward the dilapidated hut and then scatter, their laughter fading into the distance. The wooden walls rise unevenly around him, warped and jagged, enclosing him in a tight, oppressive space. A narrow, rotting veranda runs along the front, its planks cracked and splintered, some hanging loose like broken teeth. The faint creak of the boards under Hiromi’s feet echoes through the empty space as he steps onto it, sunlight filtering through gaps in the weathered roof and casting jagged patterns across the dirt floor inside. Shadows pool in every corner, crawling along the walls like dark fingers.
He moves cautiously, eyes scanning the ruined interior, when a low hiss cuts through the silence. On a pile of broken planks near the far wall, a snake coils, tongue flicking, fangs bared toward his ankle. Hiromi freezes, a shiver running through him, small hands shaking in fear.
“A-Ah!” Hiromi screams.
Then, a sudden movement. A boy with messy pink hair, taller and broader than Hiromi, lunges at the snake. His hands clamp around the slick body, twisting and tearing with feral strength, blood spraying across the dirt and the splintered veranda planks. The snake writhes and hisses, but he holds firm, finally tossing its lifeless body aside.
He straightens, chest heaving, and grins at Hiromi. Two teeth are missing from his jagged smile. “Don’t worry,” he says with a shrug, blood smearing his sleeves. “I’ve got this.”
Hiromi swallows hard, the terror of the snake still thrumming in his veins, and glances at the rotting veranda, the splintered boards and warped railings surrounding him.
“T-thank you?” Hiromi stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. He keeps his eyes fixed on the boy before him, studying him with a mix of awe and unease. The boy is larger than Hiromi expected, a bit stout, and somehow carries the restless energy of a wild animal, like a tiger cub pacing in a cage. One side of his face is peculiar, the flesh twisted resembling that of a burnt mark, and also two extra holes as if he has an extra pair of eyes, and his messy pink hair falls in uneven strands over his forehead.
He wears a small, torn-down kimono, clearly tailored from an old woman’s garment. The fabric is patched and frayed, tied hastily around his torso with loose knots, as if he had dressed himself in a rush. The boy sits back on his heels, rubbing his belly absently, eyes lingering on the snake he threw aside, blood still streaking on its body.
Hiromi’s gaze drops and freezes. One of the boy’s feet is bound by a long, heavy chain, the metal link rattling faintly as he shifts. His breath catches. The boy notices Hiromi staring and tilts his head, a small, almost sad smile curling across his jagged grin.
“My mother… she kept me shackled,” he says simply, voice soft yet edged with something like pride. “So I don’t curse other people.”
Hiromi blinks, confusion knotting in his chest. “C-curse…?” he murmurs. He is a just a kid like him, how can he even curse others?
Before Hiromi can even gather his thoughts, the boy’s stomach growls loudly, the sound startling the quiet of the hut. He presses both hands to his belly, eyes squeezing shut, as if trying to quiet the twists inside of his stomach. When he opens his eyes, they land on Hiromi, and that’s when he notices his eye color.
Red orbs look like gemstones, his father often bought from foreign merchants.
“Can I… eat the snake?” he asks softly, voice tinged with hesitation.
“Ehhh!” Hiromi almost yells, stepping back instinctively. “Never! No!” He straightens, fists clenching at his sides, heart hammering with disbelief.
The boy glances down at his belly again, poking it lightly with one small index finger, lips curling into a pitiful little pout. “B-but I’m hungry… I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” he mutters, his words soft, almost childlike.
Hiromi swallows hard, and for a moment, his mind flickers to the image of a small, pouty tiger cub from a picture book he once saw, a tiny, round face, pink fur, and wide eyes.
“Hold on a minute!” Hiromi jumps from the veranda. “I will get you something to eat!” Hiromi starts to run towards the greenery but pauses midway and turns his back.
“What’s your name?” He asks.
“Sukuna. Ryomen Sukuna.” The pink haired boy says. “And you?” he whispers.
“Hiromi. Hiromi Higuruma. Nice to meet you, Sukuna.” Hiromi waves at Sukuna. “I will come right back with lots of delicious food!”
Hiromi runs away, keeping Sukuna seated on the veranda. Sukuna cannot but think to himself if he has scared the child away, or if eating the snake would be a good choice.
At least he can fill his belly till his mother comes in the evening.
He tries to reach it, but fails, because his feet do not allow him to move that far. He has thrown the snake quiet far away from the house.
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