Forever Loving, Forever Yearning

Reyes (ree-y-es) ♥ 25 ♥ MDNI she/they

[sacred-ahhh]

General Life Update: Works In Slow Progress

Hey lovely people, really sorry for the lack of works in the past months as I’ve been busy!

I’ve been busy working recently, my partner and I are planning to marry so we’ve been arranging the wedding preparations. A lot of planning, corporate burn out and chaos involved, I guess that’s the fanfic writer curse but we prevail.

Works are coming up, I promise but it will be slow updates.

[sacred-ahhh]

lovely obligation: the night together

synopsis: after longing each other for nearly three years, all the hidden feelings and emotions tumbled within one night, a night fueled by kusakabe's worship NSFW part of lovely obligation contains: you are Nanami's widow, MDNI, SMUT, nsfw, afab, sexual content, porn with a hint of plot, fingering, cunnilingus, oral(f!receiving), p in v, like 3000+ words of straight up description of porn word count: 3.5k

“Atsuya...” you said his name needingly, breathlessly, “Please don’t stop.”

The words slipped from you like a prayer, fragile but fierce, trembling after each kiss he planted on your lips that was heated and passionate one by one.

His kisses were sweet, you almost forgot the candy that lingered in his lips before he dropped it on the concrete. For a split second, Kusakabe’s composure fractured when you pulled him in. Sharp eyes that were bagged after suffering the restless nights from the thoughts of you, his gaze flickered intense with something heavier than restraint. Your plea easily shattered whatever guilt he held himself back from, everything about you stimulated his senses.

The way he called your name vibrated your chest. “I have to warn you… once I start, I don’t think I can ever stop.”

He needed to hear you. Small pecks that ventured from your lips down to your neck, sucking the skin as you shivered. Your hands tugged his coat away, clawing his broad shoulders while his lips suckled to a sensitive spot, you nervously moaned.

“M–more…” You were pulling him closer, one hand messily unbuttoning his white dress shirt, the other pushing him to every part of your neck.

“Sshhh, I know, I know.” His voice was gravel, hushed, but trembling in a way that betrayed the iron mask he wore as he called your name. His hand moved from your back to your jaw, fingers rough and careful as though he didn’t trust himself not to break you.

His thumb brushed your lips, lingering far longer than he should. Your mouth caught onto his thumb, sucking it as your eyes kept in contact with his. His other hand roamed down your lower back to your ass, clasping it tighter.

He leaned in. His lips caught yours in a kiss that was nothing like a fevered possession. This was deeper, more controlled, yet laced with years of suppressed want, restrained fire finally unleashed. As desperate and feverish he was, he wanted to take his time slowly, he wanted to make you feel the love you deserved.

When he pulled back for breath, his forehead pressed against yours, his voice low, ragged, uncharacteristically bare. “I thought about you often, thought about everything I wanted to do with you.” 

You were past halfway working down onto his shirt, “Please Kusa, I need you…”

“Sweets, let me take my time with you. Just savour everything you deserve.” He helped remove your blouse, locked your lips as he pushed you to the nearest wall.

“I want to feel your body and warmth,” he whispered as you tugged at his shirt, desperate, and Kusakabe let out a low growl against your mouth, the vibration of it running through you. You felt his grip onto your shorts and underwear, dragging it downwards enough to get access to your sex. His lips leave yours just long enough to trail down your jaw, to your neck again, where he bit down—not gentle, but not cruel either—for another mark. 

Fingers in between your slits, massaging your folds with enough pressure to satisfy you but left you to plead for more. Marking himself on whatever skin he had access to, sucking and licking as you felt another hand fondle your left breast before his mouth claimed the other, then switching sides.

He wasn’t quick in his movements nor did he ever rush his touches, he took time in indulging. His shirt clung under your grip, you reached out to grasp the bulging length through his slacks and he pressed you tighter against him, his hips bucking in response as you fondled harder.

“I want to hear you moan my name.”

“F-fuck Atsuya–stop teasing and j-just fuck me ahhh–” Two fingers slipped in you, your words were cut off as you groaned. You heard a ‘plop’, his sharp nose against yours while his digits went in and out deeper, pacing enough to keep you on edge. You were writhing and it was only the beginning.

“As much as I want to ravish you, I want to make love to you, doll.” 

“W-what’s stopping you?”

Your head fell onto his shoulder, biting your lower lip hard as you pumped his dick harder, as it grew longer and thicker. Bigger than you imagined him to be.

Clearly, you wanted each other, you couldn’t understand why Kusakabe was holding himself back. Murmuring to his ear, “Make love to me please, Atsuya.”

“Then, say it again. Say you love me again.” Fingers were dragging slower in you, hitting your sweet spot.

Nails digging on his back, an almost delicious sensation to Kusakabe if it weren't for the restriction of his shirt.

“Ah–Atsuyaa… Ahh–I love you.” His fingers pacing faster, thrusting the same spot and his thumb skillfully rubbed against your clit. “I love you, fuuuck just please fuck me…”

He felt you clenched around him tight, wetter swish sounds of your arousal, your body trembling under him. You had no idea when a man touched you like this, not since your late husband. You never thought you would ever meet someone who could worship and pleasure you. From his fingers alone, you were already babbling with pleas.

“Please, please, please–”

He pulled his fingers out afterwards, knowing you were coming close. He couldn’t let you not until he tasted your release. He quickly carried you bridal style, rushing to your bedroom. With the door slammed behind you, there was no turning back when all that was left were the reciprocated unsaid desires.

Your bodies crashed against the bed, any remaining clothes torn away in urgency until only his thin underwear remained. Kusakabe pinned you down, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his dark chocolate eyes burning into yours—hungry, unrelenting. He kissed you again, devouring, and dragged his hand down to your arousal, his long middle finger teasing your clit and entrance.

“You don’t have to beg for me, don’t even dare expecting this to be quick and easy,” he rasped against your lips, his breath hot, his voice low and cutting. “You wanted me—all of me—you’re going to feel every second of me, how you are so so so loved.”

Craving, he was drooling for the wet slick as he descended with fluttered kisses, “I’m gonna show you everything I want to do to you and all you have to do is feel it… receive it.”

Spreading your hips apart, legs on his shoulders and his grip on your hip for stability, his palm pinning your stomach down from whatever was daring you to even think of escaping—not that you wanted to. Because as soon as he tasted you, each lap of his tongue was punishing, deep, deliberate, his pace ruthless in its hunger.

He grunted against your folds, the vibration shooting fire straight through you as his tongue lapped your clit then indulging inside you, making you arch helplessly beneath him. You grappled onto his brown locks to pull in closer, humping against his mouth.

He growled your name against you before diving back in, words muffled but searing into your body like a brand. His mouth worked you with insatiable greed, sucking hard, tongue thrusting deep as his fingers spread your entrance wider, relentless in wringing every sound out of you.

He didn’t realise his sharp nose delved deep between your folds; if anything, your delicious scent, heat, taste, and moans overwhelmed his senses. All the while your head was spinning in stars, now growing past your orgasm with overstimulation washing over you. The bed creaked beneath the force of his hold, your cries swallowed in the haze of his mouth and the sharp scrape of his stubble against your thighs.

He pulled back after nearly suffocating himself, mouth wet from drool and your juices, breathing harsh and intense as his glare to you.

You would be foolish to think if he was done eating your pussy. The moment you reached out to his jaw, caressing him then staring back at him with fucked out doe eyes, that was enough to fuel his need for more.

“Don’t you ever hold back on me,” he snarled, grasping your wrist before plunging back down, tongue and lips claiming you with even more passion, punishing.

Your moans turned frantic, body trembling under the sheer force of him, and still Kusakabe didn’t relent. His mouth was merciless, his grip on your wrist and hips bruising, like a man set on proving he would never let you go again.

Sealing his mouth around your clit and sucking hard enough, releasing your wrist to thrust three fingers in you at a faster rate than before that your body jolted in tremors, your mouth salivated, exclaiming his name repeatedly.

Toes curling from Kusakabe’s relentless mouth; it was a storm you couldn’t escape, every lick, every hard drag of his tongue pulling you tighter toward the edge. He shifted, spreading your thigh wider, locking you open like he owned every inch of you, lifting your lower body slightly upwards and curling his fingers in your sweet g-spot.

The possessiveness in his touch only stoked the fire gnawing in your belly. He was correct in his claim since you could only feel and receive him, releasing another orgasm. Your cries cracked into sobs of pleasure, your body betraying you as you trembled uncontrollably.

Kusakabe finally looked up, his mouth glistening, eyes locked onto yours with a hunger that threatened to consume you alive. He smirked darkly, then dove back down without hesitation, determined to drag every last shred of resistance out of you until you shattered completely. He alternated between slow, deliberate licks that left you shaking in anticipation and charged, fervent sucks that tore moans from your throat. With only his tongue pushed deep inside you, curling, letting you convulse your hips from the remains beyond the overstimulation.

Stars were roaming in the space of your bedroom, you were getting tunnel vision from the multiple orgasm releases you had after so long. Kusakabe did ground you back to the comforts of your bed, his hands interlocked with yours, his lips planting soft affections up until he reached your cheeks.

“Too much?”

The audacity of him to question when he made you cum multiple times from his mouth and fingers.

“Shut up and hold me, Atsuya.” You whinged, lips locked each other to taste your aftermath.

He huskily let out a hot breath, carefully positioning your body comfortably around him. His hairy muscular chest against yours, his hand still laced with yours, his face buried to your neck, he was embracing you tighter—a man who was hopeless and devoted to you.

Nearly you wondered if he had his pleasure on his end, however, the wet spot on his brick red briefs said otherwise.

Once you were able to recollect yourself, you shifted your legs then you were gradually craving the bulge in his briefs. You were humping against it as he grunted, soon he followed your pursuit afterwards, grabbing your hips closer to his waist.

You attempted to remove his briefs to which he assisted, heavily craving for the real deal as you pumped his dick. “You’re just so big and thick, hmngh Atsu I want you pleaaase…”

Through your near clouded vision, Kusakabe remained magnificent. Your hands were roaming up towards his happy trail, admiring his chiseled abs to his hairy chest, eyes sinking in his broad shoulders and developed biceps. He was dreamier than you perceived him to be, in those lonely nights you wished before that he would take you and claim you. Those nights where you dreamed of him while your fingers played you were nowhere near as fiery or consuming as him.

Hovering above you, his palm besides your head for support. Gruffly speaking to you, “You’ll have this inside you soon, just be patient.”

His other hand slid down, spreading your folds again, then teasing the entrance with the head of his veiny cock, thick and hard, gliding just over you. He dragged himself slowly against your soaked slit, smearing the slickness across his length but never pushing in, letting you feel every maddening inch brushing against you without giving you what you craved.

The contrast was punishing because before he would push your limits to cum multiple times; now his heavy length teasing your entrance, denying your aches.

Your nails dug deep in his back, “Kusa… I can’t be patient, I don’t want to wait.”

“You’ll have it soon and let me prepare you before you take it in.” Kusakabe’s voice was gravelly, rough with lust as he leaned down, his teeth grazing your neck. He thrusted just enough to breach you with the head, the stretch stinging before he pulled out again, leaving you empty.

“Breathe for me, doll.”

His cock slid lazily along your folds, spreading your slick but never sinking in. Every drag of his thickness stretched you apart, made your thighs quiver. You were taking deep breaths, guiding him to enter your cunt gradually whilst attempting to loosen up. Clenching your jaw with tears dwelling from the sensation of his cock, Kusakabe caressed your cheek and started kissing you lovingly, letting himself inch by inch.

Whispering to you, head above you, he was near completely filling you, “Is my dick hitting the right places? Cause, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart.”

“Atsuyaaaa…” You moaned heavenly, his member hitting all the right spots. You pulled him deeper, his final inch entered you as you bit his shoulder, “You feel so good, it’s so big and deep.”

You could tell he was enjoying this, from the way he tightened his hold on your hip and the way he started boring his dick in you. “Let me take care of you. You’re hugging my cock too good, god you’re too perfect for me.”

His thrusts were slow and sensual, building his movements to move deeper, to feel all of him against your walls. When he dragged himself longer and slower until his swollen tip slightly peeked out, he snapped his length in one motion. He would repeat over and over until he found himself pounding in your sensitive spots–even harder when you clawed his skin and moaned your pleasure aloud, his fuzzy happy trail swabbing on your clit. The familiar coil in your belly made you grab Kusakabe’s body closer to you, pressing his chest on yours as your cries grew in volume, Kusakabe grinding you and embracing you tighter from the years of longing. 

Thank god, you weren’t at his apartment cause it was a real struggle to keep quiet. You swore the silence in every corner of the whole house was broken to this point.

Every expression you made, he was like a moth to a flame, approaching closer to his release and that was too dangerous. The way your teary eyes were dilated and clouded in lust, skin flushed, a streak of saliva dripping down your cheek, heated inner flesh hugging him perfectly; a sinful image that has taken every might within him to restrain his cum.

Not now, not yet.

He was not done worshipping your body and soul, he could hold himself just a bit longer until you were satisfied. 

Albeit, he already exceeded that, how could you tell him to stop when you were creaming over his cock?

He pulled out to flip you over, pressing his lips on your shoulders, down to your spine. Squeezing your buttocks as he spread them apart, aligning himself again as your pussy sucked him in, only that the new angle had got you dizzier in pleasure.

You don't know how much you could take his girth pumping in you, especially when Kusakabe’s cock was bullying the right places as he was grunting hot breaths, softly speaking praises for your very existence.

His worship was still not enough to Kusakabe. His hand crept to your neck firmly but not to choke you, only to keep you steady and make you hear his confessions. The other arm wrapped around your waist, your back curved against his hard abs, he was engraving the shared body warmth in his mind.

“Doll, wish you could experience this, wish you knew how much I—fucking—love—you.” He harshly rammed into you with three strokes to emphasise his declaration. His pace continued, slightly quicker yet not less impressive as before.

“I-I’m so c-close Atsu—“ From the moment he intimately touched you, he had proven you where your limits would have lied. You were reaching it exponentially in this point and his rough fingers found your clit became a supporting factor to it.

“I know, I know, come with me… come with me together.” Hips pistoning faster, his grunts were heavier and lewd as did the skin to skin contact. The bed sheets were messier, the room scented with body musks and sex.

“I’m gonna fill you up with everything I reserved just for you.”

“For me?” You managed to gasp, now eager for his heavy load filling inside you.

“Just for you, don’t you want that, sweets? Be stuffed with my seed?”

“Oh god, please please.”

Immediately, he sat back on his knees and lifted your body against his, hammering desperately with each stroke deep and unyielding.

“I need your cum in me, pleaseee.” You pleaded repeatedly, chasing the need for his seed and your own release.

Primal instincts were unlocked as he drove until your climax exploded through you, overwhelming yet immense relief, your body clenching around him with incoherent whimpers. Soon after he followed, groaning from the fracture of his control, jerking towards you until nothing was left in his sack.

Kusakabe collapsed backwards, caging you tightly as you both meekly caught on your raggedy breaths, still buried inside you and unwilling to let go. As expected, he was the first to recover as he tenderly kissed your jaw and shoulder, fingers massaging every part he had contact with. Your face turned to him, catching each other’s lips, the heat still lingering but subsidising now that your aches were now free.

He removed himself from you then gently maneuvered you comfortably on the bed, careful with your sore exhausted body. Pulling the blanket over your body, planting random kisses on your face, you lightly giggled at his affection. You huddled closer, caressing his cheekbone, “Atsuya, what’s with you?”

He scoffed, laying next to you, bringing you closer to him. “We literally just had sex after admitting our feelings to each other and you’re asking why I’m acting this way?”

You laughed harder, wincing at the liquids pooling outside of you. Still dazed in the aftermath, you felt full in your stomach. Cupping his face, he leaned towards your palm, staring back at you in softness. “Have you been holding yourself back this long for me? It feels too much.”

He held your hand, thumb tracing your knuckles, he peppered kisses down to your wrist then cradling you, “What can I say? You’ve been plaguing me for too long.”

“Wait, who’s taking care of Sayaka at your home?” you queried, wondering if you should quickly return to his apartment to check on her.

He furrowed a brow at your sudden thought, amused. “Nothing to worry, I called a caretaker to temporarily look after her for the night.”

“Did you plan this to happen?” your lips pouted, teasing. 

“Never even occurred to me, I was planning to drink my sorrows away if you rejected me but I’m not complaining now.” He chuckled, you flicked his shoulder in response, berating him that you were jellied to the bone from the passionate intimacy you had in this night. Not that you mentioned you regretted it, in fact, you told him to inform you in advance so you were prepared to not have plans the next day.

Slow blinks in, there was a sluggish drift into the night’s slumber between the both of you. Exhausted from the day, the hidden emotions and a confession that laid all the truths you were afraid to say out to the world.

There was you and Kusakabe—two beings who loved each other beyond the bond of grief, finally free from the shackles of grief, who still held those feelings but allowed the love to exist amongst them.

“Then you’ll stay with me? Just for the night?” You murmured, the wave of slumber washing over you. Your eyelids grew heavier and shut, there was no energy remaining to wash yourself, only gaining the recovery with the rumpled man beside you. 

All that mattered was the truth and the presence: the man that stayed, still fought his restraints despite the circumstances and avoidance.

“I don’t plan on ever leaving you anymore.”

It was the last thing you heard from him as he followed shortly after you, a resolved sentence as he was falling in the same dreams you finally shared. The rare softness coated his words, as though he hated to speak of his vulnerability but this night onwards, he could no longer hold them back any longer. Raw, unvarnished truths would resurface about the man who deeply loved the widow.

a/n: i don't write smut often so i hope this is good but if you read this, just know it was my coochie purely speaking

[sacred-ahhh]

lovely obligation

synopsis: it was never kusakabe's intention to be the person who will present the news to you, his colleague's wife or the newly widow, rather he would want to be the last person to share the burden to you. on the contrary to his thoughts, he still carried the grief and guilt, obliged any necessary means to look after you. and truthfully, he should be the last person to love you contains: sfw, angst with fluff, implied smut in the end (haha... unless a seperate smut fic?), you are Nanami's widow, Sayaka is Kusakabe's sister in this fic, reader uses she/her pronouns word count: 8.7k

There wasn’t any better candidate to present the news to his dead colleague’s wife. Kusakabe Atsuya felt obligated to come along with Ino Takuma to present the news to you. He had known to be numb to the brutality of jujutsu reality, lived through his job on the daily, honing the bare minimum while being nothing extraordinary as the others. Aside from having to risk his own life on the line, being the bearer of bad news was the worst thing that came along. He had grown used to it, however, he preferred being the last person to present the news.

Kusakabe knew how to carry grief well, he had lived through it when his younger sister Sayaka lost her husband then her son Takeru afterwards. 

It was why he would be by Ino’s side when Ino couldn’t process his own grief when he realised his senior was long gone from the world. The moment they arrived at your doorstep as Ino sat by the passenger’s seat, glancing by the window to see what should have remained to be Nanami Kento’s home, having to face you confronted Ino that he wasn’t the strong sorcerer he wanted to be. It was why Kusakabe was here by your doorstep in the first place alone. 

Perhaps he could carry grief too well because he carried a lot of guilt instead, more than what other people may realise. More than he would admit to himself.

When Kusakabe presented the news to you, the fabric on hand and bitter condolences slipped from his lips, the feeling crept into his spine. He had watched your face churned when he arrived by your door, he could sense your heart shattering when he called your name gently as he took out the fabric from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry for your loss. Kento was a good man, a good co-worker, a good teacher and he remains honourable until his death.”

After you took the familiar golden cow print tie, you wept heavily by the doorstep and held onto the doorframe to keep yourself up. He was hesitant to even touch you, not because he could not empathise with you, rather he did further than he realised. So, he held your arm steadily as you sobbed. Firm in his grip, he may have been stoic in emotion but his warm touch secured you on earth. When your grief was too much to handle for him, his head peeked at Ino, urging the young lad to come out from the car and comfort you, to which Ino finally did.

Though Kusakabe could not provide the words of comfort you may have needed, in the way his hand firmly grabbed your arm, he had given you the strength to survive. 

‘It’s never easy but I got you.’

He was not one who simply could share the weight of guilt and grief on his shoulders. If he could, he would like to shrug it off. Yet his actions did speak louder than he would like, hence he kept them as a secret.

After Nanami’s passing, he checked on you rarely since Ino would generally visit you from time to time; only coming by to help you sort out the paperwork whenever you needed it, when it became overbearing to handle. He would handle whatever Nanami had left behind in the school, settled his overtime pay, supported the funeral and prayer arrangements when needed, but he kept himself distant from you. Sometimes, requesting Ino to deliver the settled paperwork in his stead. Even then, there was an anonymous hefty donation sent to you days after the wake, a clean swept grave with a pair of burnt incense sticks along packaged bakery bread left by Nanami’s grave on multiple occasions. He never wanted anyone to know that it was his generosity that silently lingered. A man beloved by many, Kusakabe thought he could stay in the background like he had grown used to. 

Not until you caught him after eight months since the funeral, he stood by the grave while he reflected on his cowardly life; still immensely grateful that he lived but he wondered how Nanami could have been saved.

“I was wondering who else kept coming by to see Kento…”

He felt embarrassed until he laid his eyes on you, surviving and your eyes were hollow, you were weathered since that day. Almost similar to Sayaka’s and that strung his chest. You meekly smiled at him with slightly brighter eyes than his sister, it was enough to ease him.

“Please don’t leave yet, Kusakabe-san.”

‘Shit.’

This shouldn’t be out of the ordinary, Kusakabe has visited all of his colleagues’ graves. He hadn’t been sure why he felt the shame when you caught him by Nanami’s grave. After you made your prayers and offerings, you both sat on a bench shaded by the oak tree, coincidentally facing the grave.

“Kento doesn’t have any siblings, and his parents can’t visit him often.” You shared, gazing at the golden emblems on stone, still surreal by your late husband’s death. “It’s nice to know there are still people who come to him now.”

Kusakabe stayed silent, sucking in the situation as he let out a deep exhale, thinking deeply of the blonde man. He took out a lollipop from his pocket, fiddling it around, “People look up to him, I still do and it scares me because I have to remember he was younger than me too.”

God, he wished he didn’t quit smoking, it would be easier to stall himself in this situation. “Has Ino-kun been looking after you?”

“He does at times, but I want him to focus on his life. I can’t have him hover me all the time anyways. He’s not far much younger than me but he has a lot to live for.” He grimaced at you, stayed painfully silent when he heard you say that, ironic but gutwrenching.

It was a warm late afternoon, bright with a breeze that carried the mountains and trees, the kind that Nanami would have loved, if they weren’t in a cemetery of all places. You continued, “I love Kento more deeply than I thought I realised now, and I loved him every second when he was alive.” 

“He was my first love, my first experience, not my first kiss but he made me forget anything that was before him. He was the man I chose to live with for the rest of my life and… we thought about having kids too and he would have loved—” Reminiscing what could have been was easy but you wanted to avoid the truth that laid in front of your eyes. The future possibilities you made with Nanami, all of it became hurtful fantasies.

Your nails were digging into your skin, the clenched sensation within your chest grew deeper. “I-I still don’t know how to live on when I wake up with nothing by my side, I can’t face it every single day in my life thinking of what our future would have been. A part of me wants to drift– drift back to the station and just— I just— can’t—“

A flash memory of Takeru came to Kusakabe. Remembering his naughty nephew who would run around his apartment because Kusakabe was chasing after his stolen trousers.

And Sayaka, his bright, cheerful sister who one laughed so loud that it echoed the walls. 

Transitioning it back to the melancholic, immobile state she was in after losing Takeru. A living husk. All while Kusakabe had lost his beloved nephew and helplessly watched his living sister deteriorate.

The thought of you, Nanami’s beloved wife, as an empty shell; he couldn’t allow it to happen, Nanami wouldn’t want it either.

“Stop.”

A rough hand held onto your arm, that same grasp you felt that day Kusakabe announced the news to you, grounding you back to where you were now. “You— You don’t have to live without him anymore. Carry him and face the world with every memory of him.”

“Live onwards with him from what he gave to you, he left with his love in you so you have to love that part of him, cherish it even. If you’re going to drift away, then you’re also leaving what he left for you. He’s left his memory with me, Ino, his students and everyone else.” The same hand ruffled your head, almost frustrated at you as he tussled your hair but you glanced at the softness behind his hard face. He passed his lollipop to you, you noticed it was pineapple flavoured.

“So stay in this world and love every piece of him, the ones you and I carry of him. Just… stay.”

Kusakabe offered to drive you back home, to which you agreed even though he clearly wouldn’t be at ease if you had refused. It was a commute to return back to your home. He hoped he gave you the encouragement to live on, even when you tried to survive with what you have.

As long as you kept moving forward, he would have been happy watching you in his lane.

Maybe it was fate that played between the two of you or some evil cursed spirit in the sky that pushed Kusakabe, but you start to reach each other more often – more than what Kusakabe would like along with more guilt that crawled into him. By cruel fate, he has failed to avoid you every time. And he found himself not being able to refuse you at all.

It started when it was Nanami’s one year death anniversary and you wanted to invite everyone Nanami knew for prayers, and you called Kusakabe first to help in the planning. Anxious, overwhelmed to arrange the event from dialling numbers, to organise the itinerary of the day, catering for guests, on top of the grief that lingered for your husband, Kusakabe never failed to take the lead. He made it so easy to take action and supported you, all for your sake. You reached out to him afterall, of course he would help you even with grumbles under his breath, not letting you stress over from organising the event.

Next, it was at the supermarket and in fact, he spotted you in the produce aisle while he was grocery shopping for the weekly meal shop for him and Sayaka. The only store that had everything Sayaka needed and you happened to be there. He tried his very best to not face you and maintained the respectable space for you as your dead husband’s colleague. It just was not appropriate for him to approach you at all, he has the utmost respect for Nanami and especially for you. Hence, he casually made opposite turns every time he saw you browsing at a distance.

Multiple times.

It all got twisted when he turned to the corner aisle and forcibly faced you.

Small talk here and there, he found himself driving you back home since your home was further away from the store. Albeit, you told him you were fine on your own. You genuinely could sense the dread behind his awkward smile when he insisted, he said that it was not like he could not spare fifteen minutes of his time to drive you back home. It sounded as if he was mostly convincing himself that this was not a big deal, and you knew this was an act of compensation for your loss.

Then he noticed your home did need some manpower when he came by. 

Your broken leaking faucet outside your home he saw? He has got you covered, fixed it swiftly. He told you to inform him or Ino for any fixes needed in the house. Even then, he came by another day to do a check around the house.

Your car broke down in the middle of the road? He left work as soon as possible to find you, even called roadside assistance for you.

The plumbing company wasn’t being helpful for you? He could easily manage this task since he has done the plumbing in school.

He, in fact, was too handy. You came to realise that he may have appeared rough around the edges, pessimistic at times, but he was indeed kind, even more hardworking than he claimed as a slacker.

Quiet, reliable, and never complained about taking care of Sayaka or his responsibility as a teacher, the only thing he would groan about was having to be a grade one sorcerer. Not once had he ever shown an ounce of annoyance when it came to helping you, his dead colleague’s wife. Hence in return, you cooked meals for him, went on the milestone to create dishes that Sayaka could digest or what her favourite meals were. During your free time, you would visit him and care for Sayaka. He tried denying your help when you came by his apartment, shared conversations with Sayaka and assisted in her rehabilitation.

“It’s the least I could do, Kusa. As compensation for helping me cope.”

Sayaka adored you.

And he did too. More than adoration.

The worst part was that he cannot further the distance at this stage. Not because he couldn’t refuse you, rather he wanted to be at your reach, close to you. He never wanted what he desired. That desire of being with you accumulated, so did his guilt.

That distance became closer than he wished.

Nearly two years went by, you had the sudden pang of realisation that you were living without Nanami, that struck your heart harsher than it should one night as grief. You didn’t reach out to Kusakabe this time, you thought you'd inconvenienced him enough with the baggage you carried.

Yet, he came to your home that night, out of instinct, all because you didn’t answer your phone for the whole day. That night on the couch you sat and spilled your mourns while he existed by your side to hold you from drifting, your head laid comfortably on his shoulder as you slowly dozed off. After spending quiet moments often with him, you no longer feel restricted and you could completely breathe life once more.

‘What am I doing?’

Kusakabe Atsuya stood in front of Nanami’s headstone with an incense between his fingers, lollipop in his mouth, mimicking his old smoking habit. The smoke burned down slowly while he stared at the carved name like it might punch him. He was too close to coming back to the habit after the turn of events in the past few years.

Kusakabe rubbed the back of his neck, scowling. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t start judging me with that face,” he muttered, flicking ash into the damp grass. He could imagine it too well, the silent assessment Nanami would make if he had seen the stick in Kusakabe’s hand while rambling to the grave often about work or general updates regarding you.

The wind tugged at the edges of his coat.

“Kento, please rise from the fucking dead and kill me. I am begging you.”

The silence answered, as it always did. He laughed once, but there was no humor in it. Just air and the raw edges of emotions he was afraid to claim aloud.

“I’m in love with your wife. How fucking dare I? Like I’m just some sleazy creep who's been preying on a vulnerable widow for years. I’ve tried to run away from her every time but clearly—” His voice broke. He swallowed hard and tried again. “I’m not able to. I can’t.”

The words hung between him and the stone: heavy, unforgiving.

He imagined what Nanami would say; a dry, measured response that made Kusakabe feel small but seen as a problem to be solved. That was the kind of man Nanami had been—steady, reliable, the sort of person people leaned on. The man you deserved to share your happiness with, a man that Kusakabe was not.

“She’s amazing,” he continued, quieter, the admission scraping his throat raw. “She is beautiful when she smiles and laughs, she’s laughing more now too. She looks at me so graciously, and fuck, it’s no wonder you married her.”

He exhaled, the shudder in his breath from the shame he had for himself. “You were supposed to be with her, you both had bigger dreams, a future you were supposed to build with her.”

The grass rustled, a bird called in the trees. Life was moving on, but the two men, dead and alive, couldn’t. Kusakabe swallowed, “I’m just taking what should have been yours.”

He hated the way it made his chest ache, the way guilt coiled around his ribs like barbed wire.

“I love her, Kento.” His voice cracked, repeating his confession again as repentance. He looked away across the cemetery, where rows of stones marked lives and endings, the one that he stood in front of shouldn't have his end. “But out of anyone, it shouldn’t be me that should love her.”

He closed his eyes, every image of you implanted in his head as his wanted torment, “I don’t want her to love me even if it makes me the happiest man ever, god it will make me burst.”

The confession tasted bitter under the coated sweetness on his tongue, for he did want to love you. He hated that he wanted the love you’ve projected to him whenever you smiled at him—really smiled, not the polite, distant expressions of a widow that carried immense sorrow. He hated that he held such a dangerous yearning for a future he had no right to. A future where they weren’t two people bounded by loss, but where you reached beyond it, reaching for him.

He opened his eyes, hoping for a different outcome but the headstone remained unchanged.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Forgiving wasn’t enough and the weight was heavier still.

The days after that visit to the grave changed something in Kusakabe.

There was no sudden declaration, no explosive realisation. Only a quiet shift like a door slowly closing your way into his home. Initially, it was small things. When you came by to visit his sister, Kusakabe would already be out on an errand. When you texted to ask if he needed groceries or Sayaka’s monthly prescription, his replies were polite but distant.

“No need. I’ve got it handled.”

When you stopped by unexpectedly, Kusakabe would let you in and remain somewhere else in the apartment whether it was another room, another floor, or another excuse.

Kusakabe had never been particularly expressive but he had never avoided you either. Before, he would linger in the doorway when you visited. He would complain about his students’ incompetence, deranged sorcerers, or the absurdity of cursed spirits that came by at an inconvenient, unavoidable time. Sometimes he would stay long after his sister had gone to sleep, sitting by you in the living room with tea, where the two of you were talking about nothing and everything.

Now he barely looked at you. You noticed that he stopped coming by to you in your home.

Once, when you brought food for his sister, you heard him moving in the hallway. For a brief moment, you thought he would come back into the kitchen like he always did. Instead, his footsteps retreated.

Another time, he left the apartment entirely, informing you to leave after Sayaka falls asleep. That was when the suspicion started forming into something heavier in your chest. Avoidance wasn’t Kusakabe’s style. He complained, he grumbled, he dragged his feet but he didn’t hide nor speak to you of his own issues.

Weeks passed like that with polite distances, careful absences, conversations cut short. 

Until one evening, you arrived earlier than usual as the apartment door opened before you could knock. Kusakabe stood there, keys in hand like he had been about to leave, both of you froze by the doorway.

His expression hardened immediately while he averted his gaze elsewhere.

“… You’re early.”

Your eyes narrowed, arms crossed, “You’re ignoring me. I know it.”

Kusakabe’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t look surprised you’d said it. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” he replied flatly as he glanced back at you.

The words were blunt but his delivery was wrong. Quick, rehearsed, exhausted mentally, it was more evident that he was avoiding you for the last couple of weeks.

You stepped forward instead of backing away, “Atsuya, something is bothering you so don’t lie to me.”

Hand gripping on the doorframe while the other shoved his keys into his pocket, he looked away from you. That alone was enough to confirm it. Kusakabe Atsuya was not the type to dodge eye contact. If he was irritated, he said it. If he was tired, he said it. If he didn’t want you around, he would’ve told you weeks ago. Yet now his gaze had shifted to the side, jaw tightening, clenching on the lollipop stick.

“I’m not. Sayaka is asleep now, you should leave.”

“No.”

Kusakabe exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair like the situation itself was a headache.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Then tell me what this is.”

His fingers squeezed around his keys in the pocket, letting it dig into his skin harder and harder to hold himself back from his truth. For a moment, you thought he might snap back with one of his usual sarcastic deflections, where he would dismiss and brush everything that occurred with valid reasons. Instead, he just stood there with no words to offer, only exhaustion in his eyes flickered into deep and heavier thoughts, ones he clearly didn’t want you to see.

His expression grew serious as he had reached a decision in mind. He called your name sternly.

“Don’t come by anymore,” he said quietly.

The words landed like a stone dropped in still water, a finality that was cutthroat and refused for any other option to be considered or heard. The words landed heavier and you blankly stared at him, the sentence hadn’t fully formed in your mind yet, awaiting for it to be rearranged into coherent sense if you gave it a second longer. The hallway felt smaller suddenly as the air grew thicker. Your shoulders shrunk, your hands loosened to the sides as his words registered.

All those quiet moments flashed through your mind without permission; the evenings in his kitchen, the endless chores and school work he’d complain about but still finish in the shared space, the way he’d grumble when you insisted on helping his sister with things he claimed he could do himself. And the rare, fleeting cheeky smiles he tried to hide behind his hand. The way your homes had slowly stopped feeling like a place tied only to handling the anguish, where Kusakabe became a space where you had begun to heal. Nanami still held the piece of your heart and it always would be, his memory sat in your chest as a permanent scar but there had been room again for warmth, laughter, and the man in front of you.

Your eyes sharply gaped at him again, inspecting closer. His posture was rigid, bracing himself for your reaction but your voice came out smaller than you intended.

“Kusa, have I done something?”

Your fingers curled slightly at your sides, trying to stop their trembling and failing. The anger was there, sharp and rising but it tangled with confusion and something that felt dangerously close to heartbreak.

All that happened building up to where it had gone didn’t make sense. 

Not after the way he’d been there through your worst days consistently. The quiet mornings when you couldn’t even speak Nanami’s name without breaking, the nights when grief hit you out of nowhere and Kusakabe had just sat nearby, complaining about work like normal life still existed, listening to you, remaining by you even when you felt stuck. He’d been careful with you, gentle in the way only someone rough around the edges could be.

Somewhere along the way, you had started looking forward to seeing him, looking for him, even in the grief and guilt you faced when you loved a dead man.

“I thought…” You stopped, swallowing hard. The rest of the sentence refused to come out.

Your chest tightened, anger finally pushing its way to the surface through the cracks of hurt. “You can’t just shut me out like this,” you said, shaking your head. “You don’t get to decide that on your own, not give me a proper answer and tell me to leave. What have I done to you?”

Your eyes searched his face desperately for an answer.

“Atsuya, talk to me.”

For a split second something flickered across his face—pain, raw and unguarded, it vanished behind the familiar wall of irritation he wore like armor. He instantly noticed the small crack of your voice. Kusakabe had spent a long time watching you carefully in these years, down to the smallest shift in tension. He knew how your pain had projected, now it was standing in his doorway looking at him like he’d just torn something apart.

For a moment, he almost answered you honestly. Admit to you how much you tore him apart, body and soul, confessed to you how much he had fallen for you and mesmerised by you, the overwhelming joy that he had when Sayaka could speak to another person who wasn’t him or a cursed doll.

Instead, he clicked his tongue under his breath and turned his head away, dragging a hand down his face as if the whole situation was just another annoying problem dumped on his plate.

“No,” he muttered, rough. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all.”

That was the problem; you hadn’t done anything wrong because you had been kind, patient, gentle in ways Kusakabe didn’t think he deserved. Every time you smiled at him, something inside his chest twisted tighter. Every time you showed up with groceries and cooked Sayaka’s favourite warm meals, or sat at the table talking about your day, or laughed at one of his half-hearted complaints. He forgot, just for a second, that none of this should exist.

You weren’t supposed to be part of his life like this.

You had once belonged to someone better.

Someone who’s bare remains buried under cold stone.

“You have to stop coming here,” he repeated, more firmly this time as he clenched the keys in his hand harder. “You’ve done more than enough for me and Sayaka already.”

“Atsuya—”

“I’ll handle things from here.”

He’d stood in his apartment nights before thinking about this conversation, imagining every possible way it could go wrong if he was confronted by you. Every possible way you could look at him like you were looking now. Facing you in the moment, the hurt, confusion, the shattered eyes; he was truthfully crumbling inside.

Your voice rose, frustration breaking through the cracks in your composure, “That’s not the point!”

“It’s easier this way.”

“Easier?” you echoed, trembled. “Easier for what?”

He didn’t answer as the truth sat right behind his teeth, clawing its way up his throat. Love and guilt he harboured since you appeared in his life often. He scoffed quietly and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Look,” he said gruffly, forcing his voice back into that familiar irritated tone. “You’ve got your own life, you are still young. You shouldn’t be wasting time babysitting a grumpy sorcerer in his mid-thirties and his sister, you don’t have to be here anymore.”

Your expression hardened, “That’s not what this is, I’m not here because I am some voluntary caretaker.”

“Isn't that what you’ve been doing?”

“No, what are you even talking about?!” The answer came fiercely and certain. Your eyes searched his face again, desperate for something real behind the wall he kept throwing up that was avoiding the truth.

“We were friends,” you said quietly.

More than that, the unspoken words hung in the air between you, wide eyes burning with clashing emotions that demanded answers. You had to tear your eyes away, biting your lip to compose yourself.

“When you told me that Kento died during the Shibuya incident…” His shoulders locked so tightly that it was painful from holding the weight of that memory. Your voice softened around it, a ghost that was still fragile to you, “I thought that was it for me, I wanted it to end.”

Kusakabe’s gaze dropped to the floor as he recalled that version of you who mourned endlessly. The quiet way you had spoken during those early days, the hollow look in your eyes like you were moving through life several seconds too late. The way people tiptoed around you from the contagious grief that shackled you.

“I thought the rest of my life would just be surviving. Pretending I was okay so people would stop worrying, all so that I could eventually disappear.”

Kusakabe’s jaw tightened as he peered at you, then your gaze lifted to him again.

“But then you kept showing up, even though you didn't have to.”

You laughed weakly, shaking your head, “You complained the entire time, speaking out loud how much you hate your job. God, you’re the most unpleasant man I know.”

“And somehow,” you continued, your voice trembling now, “I started feeling like I was healing.”

Kusakabe swallowed as a light flickered on his face, slightly while suppressing it within himself.

“And then I was healing.” Your eyes locked onto his as the silence fell over the empty hallway again but full of everything of the clear unspoken words. Your hands were quivering, whispering, “Do you know how terrifying that was? Because it meant life was still moving, without him.”

Your breath hitched slightly, “It meant I could smile again and laugh. It meant I could love again even with Kento in my heart. I could start loving people again.”

That word landed like a blow to the chest, his breath stalled and you kept staring at him directly, “And in all of that, you were there.”

The implication hung there, undeniable, and that sharply twisted in his ribs. 

He let out a quiet breath through his nose, as if the memories itself irritated him since he hadn’t planned any of that nor intended to become part of your life. It began as a responsibility to Nanami who had been his close colleague, caring after the people he left behind had felt necessary to him and it was supposed to be temporary. Somewhere along the way, it had become a routine where it had turned into familiarity.

And familiarity had become something far more dangerous.

If anything, to him, the worst thing about this was the fact he could not regret being a part of your life, be the person who made you smile. He was ashamed of himself that he could not regret it at all.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he muttered. The words came out rough, not angry however, almost strained at the suggestion of an actual reality that he could have.

Your brows furrowed, “Why not?”

“Because you’re talking like I saved you.” His gaze hardened slightly. “And I didn’t.”

A beat passed. Then, he forced the words out, “You were supposed to move forward, you have a lot to live now, you have so much to do with your life, just not with me.”

The words rang in your ears, hollow and cruel in a way Kusakabe had never been before. Your head shook immediately, the reaction instinctive.

“That’s not—Atsuya, that’s not what I want, that’s not what I’m saying. You don’t get to decide that, I–”

He took a step back, widening the space between you enough to make the distance feel deliberate.

“You’re misunderstanding,” he muttered.

“Then explain it to me.”

He couldn’t deliberate it any further since it meant saying his truth out loud. Instead, Kusakabe did the one thing he knew how to do when something mattered too much. He shut down as his expression flattened into something closed and distant.

“You should go home, I’m not giving you an option.” The finality in his voice was like a door slamming shut.

“Atsuya–”

“I mean it.”

The tone was sharper now, cutting through the air before you could try again. Your hands clenched at your sides. You searched his face one last time, desperately hoping to find some crack in the wall he’d thrown up.

Something that said he didn’t mean it.

Something that said stay.

He wouldn’t even look at you anymore, not a glance. His gaze had dropped somewhere past your shoulder, hoping you were already gone. The realisation settled slowly and painfully in your chest, seeping into your eyes, he was rejecting you.

“… Okay.”

It was the only word you could manage without breaking. You turned before he could fully see your face crumble. Your footsteps down the hallway sounded far too loud and Kusakabe softly closed his apartment door, but the moment he shut it, his shoulders sagged as his heart had snapped and sunk.

“Fuck,” he whispered, hand gripping on the door handle tighter as a small glimpse on your face imprinted in head, enough to create the destruction in him.

Kusakabe had almost got what he wanted since you stopped coming by, the apartment felt quieter than it used to, that Sayaka pointed it out too after a few weeks.

“You haven’t invited her over in a while,” she said quietly, one evening from the dinner table.

Glossing over the fact that Sayaka broke her usual silence to search for you, Kusakabe grunted from the kitchen, “She’s busy.”

It was a lie so obvious it didn’t even deserve a response.

The routine of work started feeling out of place. Somehow your absence had crept into places he hadn’t expected; the empty chair at the kitchen table, the lack of groceries you used to bring without asking, a missing simmering pot of stew you would whip up for the household, the quiet moments where he’d normally hear your voice teasing him about something stupid. Everything crashed down into a routine filled with silence. It was foreign but Kusakabe felt it was necessary despite the ache he had in yearning for you. He believed he could move past this, piling paperwork, patrols and training sessions until Ino showed up in his office while Kusakabe slouched in his chair with a stack of reports to distract himself.

The younger sorcerer leaned against Kusakabe’s desk at Jujutsu High, arms crossed, expression unusually serious. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Kusakabe didn’t even look up from the paperwork in front of him, teeth toying the plastic stick between his lips, “Good afternoon to you too.”

“What the hell did you do? Why did you stop seeing her?”

That nearly got a reaction from Kusakabe. His eyes glued onto the paperwork as he paused momentarily, “Who told you that?”

“She looked like hell when I visited her a few days ago and she froze when I asked her about you,” Ino straightened slightly, frowning.

The plastic snapped in Kusakabe's mouth, he took it out and stared at it for a second before tossing it in the bin. “She’ll be fine.”

“No, she won’t and I’m telling you that she won’t because she’s been down in the dumps.”

Kusakabe finally looked up, glared daggers at the young sorcerer, “You done?”

Silence hung in the office, Kusakabe leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, already exhausted by where this conversation was clearly heading.

“You shouldn’t be sticking your nose into other people’s business, kid.”

“But you stopped seeing her.”

“That’s none of your concern, you’re supposed to check on her if she’s doing fine.”

“It is my job to tell you, especially when both of you look miserable.”

Kusakabe gave a dry laugh, “Life’s miserable, get used to it.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Kusakabe waved a hand dismissively, reaching for a pencil to annotate his paperwork, “You’re being dramatic Ino, you need to leave now. I’m busy.”

Ino observed him carefully, unsatisfied by his reaction as he muttered, “I am not leaving because it’s so clear that you love her.”

The pencil lead cracked in Kusakabe’s grip as soon as it touched the paper, the room grew very still as Kusakabe groaned at the supposed flimsy pencils.

“Watch your mouth before you make your claims,” Kusakabe muttered.

“And she clearly loves you,” Ino argued back.

“Enough with the nonsense.”

Kusakabe shoved his chair back and stood abruptly. The legs scraped loudly across the floor, standing tall to the young sorcerer, scowling at Ino but Ino levelled his intimidation.

Ino continued before he could shut the conversation down again, “You stopped seeing her because you think it’s wrong, isn’t it? Is it because of Nanami?”

That name cut through the room like a blade, Kusakabe turned sharply. His jaw worked like he was grinding something bitter between his teeth, the words finally slipped out, rough and raw.

“She is his wife, Ino.”

His voice wasn’t loud but he carried the weight of a dead man that he’d been choking down for years. Kusakabe continued, “We worked together for years. And now what? I just step into his life like nothing happened?”

Kusakabe dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement as he sighed.

“You really think Nanami would hate you for loving someone he loved too? She was dying after he was gone and between you and I, we both know who mostly helped her live on again.” Ino’s voice softened, frowning at the absurdity of it. If Nanami saw the state he left you in after his death, he would have done anything to keep you living. He would have been immensely grateful for Kusakabe who had made you smile and kept you going after these years. “You didn’t steal anything from him.”

A long pause stretched between them as Ino sighed in exasperation, “But you are hurting her now, she’s not happier these days, Kusakabe.”

That landed harder than anything else, Kusakabe’s shoulders sank slightly as he replayed the flash memory of you by his door, it wrecked him.

“You have to see her, Kusakabe-san,” Ino said.

Kusakabe looked away again.

“I told her to stay away, she’s not gonna want to see me.”

Another silence.

Ino shook his head, turning his way to the sliding door as he paused by the entrance, his back facing Kusakabe. “You’re a grown man. If you still want to run away, fine but don’t pretend you’re doing it for her.”

The door clicked shut behind him and Kusakabe stood there after Ino left, processing and contemplating as the office became strangely empty. He stared at the clock hanging by the wall, the time reached after school hours. 

Eventually he grabbed his keys and coat, swiftly bolted his way out.

By the time Kusakabe left Jujutsu High the sun was already dipping toward the horizon, driving his way somewhere else that diverted his way to his home before he could overthrow the idea or prevent himself from stopping his way. The familiar streets passed by in a blur until he reached your building, stopping across the same street to your house. He stood there staring up at the windows, his chest felt tight as he unwrapped the lollipop to ease his nerves. By the time he reached your door his hand hovered in the air for several seconds before finally knocking.

The knock came late enough in the evening that you almost ignored it since you weren’t expecting anyone for the night. You were growing used to the heavy, unmoving quiet that settled into the corners of your home after sunset. The kind that made you replay old memories unconsciously and unwarranted, at least you were surviving and moving past it.

When the knock came again firmer, you hesitated before walking to the door, your hand rested on the handle as you contemplated if this was worth the human interaction.

Albeit, you opened it and your breath left your lungs as your eyes widened as Kusakabe stood there, intense and ruminative.

He was much worse than you remembered. Tired that ran deeper than lack of sleep, his tie loosened, coat half-buttoned like he’d put it on without thinking, his hair was slightly disheveled from the wind outside.

For a few seconds neither of you spoke, your chest tightened painfully.

“Atsuya.” Your voice was careful when you called him.

That was all it took for the tension in his shoulders to spike again, your voice was gentle that he hadn’t registered that he was yearning to hear you and see you. He glanced past you briefly into your home before looking back at you, confirming you were alone, that he hadn’t interrupted anything. He pant out an audible breath as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You didn’t answer right away because the last time you’d stood in a doorway with him, he had told you to leave, told you not to come back. Your fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the door, eyes peering to the side aggrievedly.

“I thought you said I shouldn’t see you anymore.”

Kusakabe slightly flinched, his gaze dropped to the floor but he was not too startled from your reaction since he was expecting.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I did say that.”

Silence stretched between you, he exhaled slowly to brace himself. “I also said a lot of stupid shit.”

That got your attention as your eyes rolled to him, Kusakabe lifted his head again, meeting your eyes properly this time. There was no temper in his expression, neither deflection; only him and his confession to you, his raw honesty that looked almost uncomfortable on him.

“I owe you an explanation.”

He didn’t step inside, he stayed right there in the doorway similar as you did last time when you were at his apartment, only he didn’t deserve to cross the threshold since.

“You know I visit Nanami’s grave sometimes, I went there a couple weeks before you came to the apartment that day,” he said aloud.

Your brows knitted slightly, waiting patiently for Kusakabe as he let out a humorless breath.

“I stood there whining for half an hour trying to figure out how to say it out loud.”

“To say what?”

“That I’m in love with his wife.” 

The words landed heavily between you as your heart skipped steadily, you felt your shoulders loosened before Kusakabe cracked a short, bitter laugh to ease the quiet. 

“Real classy, right?”

He continued before you could respond back to him.  “I kept thinking maybe if I said it enough times it would start sounding wrong enough that I’d stop feeling it.”

“So I did the next best thing,” he said. “I ran.”

His eyes returned to yours. “That’s why I stopped seeing you. I thought if I stayed away long enough, it would go away.”

You felt your heart rate raise before you braced yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly against the door, the small movement of the gap between your lips while you processed his words. The rumpled, constantly aggravated expression you had known him for, became too delicate.

“I kept my distance because every time I was around you, I forgot I wasn’t supposed to want this.” His voice dropped lower, releasing another breath. “You’d smile at me and suddenly the whole thing felt normal, that scared the hell out of me.”

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

“… Why?”

Kusakabe glanced at you, knowing the answer should have been obvious. The honesty in it made your chest ache, you needed his answers to reveal his answers past his lips.

“He was my friend,” Kusakabe continued. “A good one, one of the few people in this job I actually deeply respected.”

His hands flexed slightly at his sides, laying himself out to you bare and vulnerable of the years he had held himself back to. “And somehow I ended up falling in love with the person he loved most, like a piece of shit I was.”

Then he spoke more gently, “But staying away from you felt worse, hurting you was the worst.”

Jaw tightened before his voice faltered into a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “It turns out I’m a lot more selfish than Nanami ever was because I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest. You stepped a little closer to the doorway without realizing.

“I love you, I’ve been in love with you for a long while,” he confessed aloud without any hesitation, sarcasm or grumbling. A reassurance to you, the truth he held back from the moment he fell for you after that fateful day in the cemetery.

“And I know that makes things complicated,” he continued quietly. “I know he’ll always be part of your life. He should be.”

Another pause.

“But if there’s even a small part of you that—” He cut himself with his shoulders sagged slightly. Kusakabe rubbed the back of his neck again, suddenly looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Actually, no. That’s not fair. I didn’t come here to ask for anything, I just couldn’t keep lying to you anymore.”

His gaze softened. 

“That’s the truth. I’m stupidly, hopelessly in love with you,” he finished quietly. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

After laying out his disclosures, the hallway felt suspended in place. The world had paused to see what you would do with the confessions he had admitted between you while he prepared for impact. Shoulders tense, jaw tight, eyes already anticipating rejection even though he had said he wasn’t asking for anything.

“You are stupid and you are the biggest prick, Kusa.”

You uttered, ensuring the words hit him like a slap, eyes squeezing shut for half a second as he let out a quiet sigh through his nose. He had already accepted the next outcome since it was well deserved after how he had been treating you for a few weeks, he was already preparing to have the door slammed to his face where you would yell at him to leave. He fully turned to you, finding that you were still there, not angry in the way he expected, still looking at him as if he was everything. You broke the silence before he could spiral any further.

“After so long I had loved Kento even until this day, I had been able to breathe once more for a time, for a year or two. It was all because of you.”

His brows pulled together slightly. That wasn’t where he thought this was going.

Your voice trembled, but you didn’t look away.

“I’ve fallen for you, Atsuya.”

The world seemed to tilt, Kusakabe genuinely thought he had misheard you, his brain lagged behind the words like it was refusing to process them.

You continued anyway, “God, you’re not the only one who feels guilty because I felt guilty falling in love again, like I was betraying Kento. For a while, I-I couldn’t live without him.” 

You took a breath in, letting your words seep through as you added, “I still wake up, breathe, shop for groceries, remember how he took his coffee, then I forget that sometimes too. And that used to terrify me but I was able to live on. You kept me alive.”

Your eyes glistened, but your voice stayed steady. “I could never want anyone else–it has to be you because you gave me every reason to smile, laugh, cry and love. I love you, Atsuya.”

Silence slammed down between you. Kusakabe stared at you like you had just spoken in another language. This was the exact future he had spent trying to prevent. And now you were standing right in front of him, offering it freely.

“You really know how to make things complicated,” he retorted hoarsely, then stopped. His hand dragged down his face slowly. The line would have sounded like one of his usual complaints if his voice hadn’t been shaking slightly.

You stepped closer enough that the space between you finally disappeared. Kusakabe examined you for any confirmation that you hadn’t just said something out of grief or loneliness.

“Do you have any idea how much I tried to stop this?” he asked quietly.

You gave a weak, watery smile.

“I noticed.”

A short breath of laughter escaped him. Another silence passed, softer now and less tense.

“You’re sure?”

You seemed to read that thought in his face. Your hand reached forward slowly, fingers brushing against the sleeve of his coat before resting against his arm.

“You idiot, I’m not replacing him,” you murmured softly. “I’m choosing you, learn the difference.”

The fragile hold within his chest finally gave way, he let out a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding for weeks.

“Kento would give me so much shit for this,” he muttered.

Your lips curved faintly, “I think he’d be relieved there’s someone who is finally putting up with me and you.”

That actually made Kusakabe laugh quietly and rough. The tension that had lived in his shoulders for months loosened slightly. His other hand moved hesitantly as he wasn’t fully sure he had the right to yet. His fingers closed gently around yours where they rested on his arm, holding you as if you were fragile.

“You’re still stuck with a grumpy bastard,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing your knuckles absentmindedly.

“But if you’re really serious about this, I won’t push you away anymore,” Kusakabe’s voice softened in a way it rarely did.

“I love you, Atsuya. Don’t run from me please,” a hand lightly brushed its way to his jaw, pulling him in as an invitation to him.

Kusakabe’s hands released and found your face, cupping it as if you were sacred all at once. His thumbs traced the line of your jaw, lingering there as if memorizing every curve. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled you closer until your foreheads brushed. The words you had just spoken unlocked something inside him as he planted a kiss on your lips. Deeply. Urgently. 

As though he could pour every unspoken word into that one moment. Each tremble of his lips carried years of guilt, longing, and all the times he had failed to choose you above his shame. Each press of his mouth felt like he was trying to rewrite every moment where he had let fear win over his heart. When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, your breaths came in ragged bursts. His voice was low, broken, intimate.

“I should’ve done that for all those nights I almost did.”

A shiver ran through you at his confession, at the honesty in it. His hands stayed on your face, holding you with reverence. Then he kissed you again; softer this time, tender, almost worshipful, reverent. Your skin tingled as goosebumps formed with each kiss, it had been long since you were last touched intimately.

You pressed your hands against his chest, pulling him inside before the door could even close. He obeyed instantly, letting the door click shut behind him where the world outside disappeared. The air between you was thick with want and relief, tension melting into need. Clothes became casualties in your orbit, falling like petals to the floor. His coat, your blouse, and each discarded garment shed every fear, restraint, along the years of hesitation. Your fingers trembled from nerves and the lack of intimacy, but also the overpowering raw, desperate desires to feel his skin against yours, to finally exist together without tiptoeing.

Kusakabe’s hands roamed to every part of your skin that he refused to leave untouched, memorising your sacred body heat in his arms, softly talking through you despite his body language speaking to you in ways you whimpered aloud.

In that room, with clothes scattered to reveal confessions on the floor, the space between you disappeared. Only the heat, breath, and the undeniable truths finally were allowed to burn bright.

a/n: kusakabe atsuya love plsssss, this type of story has been lingering in my mind lately and to me, it just fits the angst when it's kusakabe who would look after you. i just lurveee this underrated silly old man

[sacred-ahhh]

Not joking about making the separate smut fic, it's like 70% done because I cannot stop thinking of what this yearning man would do

[sacred-ahhh]

Something within me is itching to write a gothic romance trueform!Sukuna x Reader that similarly follows the plot of Nosferatu, where it's set in the Heian period and Sukuna is worshipped as a god with followers

Hmm decisions decisions

[sacred-ahhh]

my normal reaction rn seeing that Higuruma AND trueform!Sukuna is finally animated. this world contains blessings that overbears the soul so it punishes pleasure as a sin

[sacred-ahhh]

shared spaces: moving in

synopsis: what’s stopping you and higuruma to admit you are in love? nothing, but you both won't claim it yet, not yet part of the shared spaces series contains: sfw, romantic tensions but can be platonic, university au!law student higuruma x student reader, gender neutral, slow burn words: 2.3k

Life had been moving alone as per usual, only there had been a few changes since that fateful encounter with Higuruma. Not frequent interactions but a couple in the timespan up to the day tenancy agreement begins.

Small updates were made regarding the apartment contract with guarantors, sharing a storage space at the university since it turned out that you both were struggling to find a space to store your items during the summer break, and a few coffee breaks to familiarise each other. Still, there was not much you know about him.

Your friends may have given a handful when they found out you were living with a near-stranger, rightfully so. Even ambushed and interrogated him briefly while you both grabbed a quick drink from the vending machine before heading to your respective lectures.

‘He’s decent I guess.’

‘He’s alright… but I still don’t trust him.’

‘You have us to protect you, we’ll come on a whim!’

Their perspective of him was slightly better when he shared his contact details to them without any hesitation, he asked where to reach out to them if anything would happen to you. Polite, transparent with no alarming red flags, your friends could not help but still worry for you. Not that you weren’t capable of caring for yourself, it was clear your friends had to worry because you believed you were too capable on your own—too immersed in your own world, someone who roamed freely and about, too independent for your own good.

“Fuck, this is heavy!”

He called your name worriedly, his trembling arms were less taut now that you lended a hand, “You don’t have to help me– ah shit–”

It was why you were outside the small apartment complex with Higuruma, three weeks before the semester break even began and your friends hadn’t returned from their break, unloading the small truck and helping him carry his boxes up the flight of stairs.

“It’s okay we’re almost there!” You yelped as you both carefully took step by step until you both could place the box into the apartment entrance.

Gasping for air with your hands on your knees while Higuruma gripped the doorframe to catch up his own breath, at least you and Higuruma had handled the biggest and heaviest box together. Or else, you would have probably witnessed your flatmate sliding off the stairs so you could have the apartment on your own with half the rental price.

“Is the hard part over yet?” You heard him quietly grunt in his breath.

“Unfortunately not but we’ll pull through. We’ve got… six boxes to go and a few of our suitcases, four of the boxes are mine but I’ll be fine carrying them on my own.”

There was a tinge of regret and dismay but Higuruma took a deep breath. “Nonsense, I can carry all of them.”

You snorted, crossing your arms, “No, we’ll handle six boxes and suitcases up the flight of stairs together.”

Fortunately, you managed since your load was not too unbearably heavy so by the time you finished, you and Higuruma immediately unpacked all the necessities. With the windows open,  ajar, the sunshine and chilled air passed through in the living room that still looked bare in spite of the bubble wrap, tape and plastic that littered around. You did peek at the big box you struggled to carry with him and nearly jolted at the sight, a sweat dropping down your spine when you found a decent collection of books beneath the winter clothing and miscellaneous items within.

“How can you afford this many textbooks? Pristine condition and latest edition too?”

It shouldn’t be shocking that a law student like Higuruma would have an impressive amount of books, albeit you felt the shiver in your bones when you thought about the prices. Some of the recent literature reviews he had even were authorised by the prominent lecturers in the law faculty. You did spot a couple of entertainment reads; some were fictional fantasy, some were slice of life, some had nonsensical manga covers.

“My father saved up to cough up these textbooks, he’s bought the foundational books that I need at all times. It’s far easier to have a hardcopy, unfortunately for me.” Dusting off the covers, he picked up a mixed stack that he needed to review during the weekend, or for his pleasurable reads.

“You’re so lucky, I mostly rely on the library for my textbooks at the moment but I’m slowly building a collection of them.”

“Your parents are not helping you out?” Higuruma passed the box cutter to you as you started to cut off the tape to one of your packing boxes.

Shrugging, “They offered but I would rather not rely on them too much since I asked them to sponsor a new laptop instead.”

You hovered over your carry-on bag, informing Higuruma that you would be searching any used furniture you could fill the living room with, unloading any of your items or shifting them into your room in between times. As expected when it came to living in an unfamiliar area that has aged for long, there had been some issues with the central heating and water heater as Higuruma pointed out. The heating was not needed in the awkward period between summer and autumn, but you did love your warm showers. Higuruma noted down any of the issues to the landlord as he called the utility company to you while you hunted for any affordable furniture on the web and roamed about in the apartment  to check if there were any further necessities you needed.

Midway in, the room grew cool as you sprawled on the leather couch, contemplating your life choices after the physical and mental toll of moving in.

“This is too much to handle, Higuruma. Why do we have to suffer like this?” you whined, watching him loom over you, a small curve on his lips.

He sat by the armrest, an arm by the wall as he observed you, “That’s the reality for us students with working parents. It’ll be rewarded in the end, I’m sure of it.” Your eyes met as you grumbled, your arm rested on your forehead.

You had it all envisioned in your head when you first came here, seeing the room now was unusual to you. There was too much to start off with what you could do in the apartment: the furnishings, apartment friendly decorations, the plants that the elderly couple offered to you. “You do realise that we still need to get study desks sorted too? Not to mention, this empty living room is dead, where’s the coffee table? The small dining table and chairs? It looks barely lived in.”

He let out an amused breath, “It’s only the beginning, we’ll build this up slowly but we’ll finish this in less than two weeks.”

You chuckled, locking eye contact with him, teasing, “Building a new life with a stranger?”

“I wouldn’t say a new life, we have finished our first year and we’re continuing from there.” His dark brown eyes softened and the small polite smile, you wondered if he always smiled to other people as he did with you. If that was true, then with all certainty, he must be kind. “But do you think we are still strangers now?”

You allowed the silence to sit comfortably in the air between you as you grinned widely at him. “Perhaps you’re right, we’re technically no longer strangers… We’re flatmates now.”

You sat up, stretching your body to the box filled with blankets, grabbing the thin blanket to warm your lower body. Higuruma slid down to join sitting next to you, holding your laptop for you as you settled under the cosy sheet.

“You don’t cook for yourself often, do you?” you muttered to him.

“What makes you say that?” His eyebrow scrunched upwards, passing your laptop back to you while you hummed, your eyes peering to a box near the kitchen–directing to him what you could see, what he had unconsciously shown clues for you to pick on.

You didn’t say the words aloud but he could read it from the way the box revealed small information about himself. A kettle and a pot peeking out, different colourful packages of instant ramen with interesting flavours and a bottle of soy sauce that was not even midway finished. You pointed out, “The bottle looks clean, and the wrapper doesn’t look like it was inked by soy sauce.”

“A correct assumption.” He leaned backwards, his back cushioned by the couch with his elbow touching yours. “It's my turn then, you get cold easily in all seasons.”

“On what basis are you making this assumption from?” Ironically, the fabric sheet on your hips would have made it obvious but he snickered. The way his eyes diverted to the direction of the box of full blankets, different types catered for different seasons as he could tell, then stared right back at you for you to interpret his thoughts aloud. 

Too loud and clear for you, however.

You huffed defyingly, sitting with your knees up while pulling in your blanket closer, “Well, what if I just like being warm? What if I prefer the warmth instead but I just don’t get cold?”

You felt the tug of your blanket as he stood up, smirking, “Shall I open the windows wide open?”

“Absolutely not.” You drew the blanket towards you.

Two lives emerging into one space, the air charged with anticipation of new beginnings, you looked around the surroundings once more. From every corner and wide empty space of the living room, the opened and closed cardboards that were all about, the kitchen and bedroom doors left halfway opened, the man beside you who gazed at you to patiently hear you. A huge feeling in your chest, mixed emotions that felt a strange overbearing at the current time and place, you hugged your legs closer to your chest. “I feel like there’s so much to unpack here, a lot of things here.”  

Your head on your knees, one hand motioning circles around your chest as you continued, “And a lot of things in here.” 

Unlike the first year of university, moving in with Higuruma was not as nervewrecking as it may appear to be, it was a fresh change filled with unknowns that were either fulfilling or consequential. After all, trust could only be built or broken, that idea almost scared you, especially when you had grown to be comfortable in your skin and to be comfortable living with someone you barely knew?

It should be intimidating, but it oddly never was. Only that there were too many steps to start, you wondered where you should place your foot on to make your journey.

Eyes peering into his dark brown orbs, you smiled at him, “Not that it’s anything too different from last year but how are you not finding this overwhelming in a new place with a new face?”

He was always contemplating the words he may say to you, never to restrain his true thoughts but careful to speak them properly to you. His voice was low, soft, and held the same gaze back to you.

“I do find it overwhelming, it’s always scary when you start anew but is it really new?”

Now his eyes were observing the area, stating the facts that displayed before you, “I see a space filled with things scattered everywhere, hidden or seen, but all of it isn’t new.”

Then, he plopped next to you, a slightly closer but respectful gap, “If you see here, the wooden floors are worn from years of tenants who lived here–maybe students, an elderly couple, and of course, the small family that lived here before us.” 

His hand gestured to all the boxes scattered about, “And here, I could see boxes full to the brim but not ready to open. I see your box full of ingredients, pots and pans that are worn out, and at least three plates that are ready to use. I see my books that need to be on the shelf where they belong, and our pillows to sleep on. There’s another box here I believe, maybe it’s just hiding.”

“All of it is here but we don’t have to rush everything into it.” He said as you sat upright, straightening your spine as you listened to him, noticing the bright hopes he expressed to you that slowly reflected it to you as you then mirrored the same expression back to him. “We’ll work with what we want to see, what we want to show and settle the rest as we go later on.”

You liked the way he silently speaks of how he did share the same excitement as you too, he didn’t need to say the exact words because you read it in his face. The room beamed brighter after his words as if the sun finally opened its eyes to enlighten you of the upcoming days for two flatmates. Higuruma would always be where the light was present to thrive and grow towards a hopeful future. Where he was in the present, he was inclined to face you.

Softening, a hint of playfulness in your eyes that peered to the box by the kitchen, you spoke, “Then, I have an idea what we can work with first.”

Moments moved forward, you and Higuruma sat in the living room, sharing the thin blanket on the couch with two bowls of ramen he cooked on the whim. A warmth that spread from fuller stomachs and body heat under the sheet, two mouths that were burnt from slurping hot noodles with an unbearable painful spice that had an addictingly delicious taste to it, all while you who yammered his choice of noodles while he chortled in tears.

“Higuruma, I can’t believe you ate these during your exams.”

“They helped keep me awake and study better.”

Possibly, you could teach him simple nutritious recipes he could follow to start.

a/n: i happened to finish this since i've gotten some free time at work and outside of work! next update may take a while

[sacred-ahhh]

shared spaces: prologue

synopsis: what’s stopping you and higuruma to admit you are in love? nothing, but you both won't claim it yet, not yet part of the shared spaces series contains: sfw, romantic tensions but can be platonic, university au!law student higuruma x student reader, gender neutral, slow burn words: 2.2k

Spring has arrived, summer exams are expected to arrive in a few months, and the time to finally move out from the student dormitory has arrived. Strolling through the halls of the university after class, wandering around with worries that occupied your head. Lately, you have had no luck finding the right place to stay. There were a wide variety of different preferences your friends had that didn’t meet yours; living near campus but the rent prices were out of your budget, further away but the place had met its maximum occupancy, cheaper accommodation but far too many people living within the same space–not to mention the cramped prison bedroom.

Perhaps it was time to be less picky and gamble, after all, it wouldn’t harm to try surviving one year of your poison? 

Or continue staying in the same student dormitory even if you will endure the horrors of being interrupted in the middle of night by fire alarms or banging music?

All that did change when you spotted something that seemed that it was meant for you.

An ad by the student's bulletin board, a small poster in the sea of entertainment events and invitations, was what it took to catch your eye. The placement seemed purposeful as if it was meant to blend in the background, destined for those who could see it. A place that was further from campus but walkable distance, located somewhere quiet, everything you needed but was it worth risking living with a stranger?

You hadn’t given it much thought because your hand was already dialling the number. You could always end the call if your intuition was against it, but a soft male voice answered. His voice was kind and deep, it almost startled you.

“Hello, is this Higuruma Hiromi?” You asked, slightly nervous.

“Yes, this is him.”

You introduced yourself briefly as you stated the purpose of the call, “I just wanted to call you about the ad I saw on the student board, are you still looking for a flatmate?”

You first met him outside a cafe by the university, it didn’t take too long to wait for him after glancing at your phone from time to time. Dog hanging black eyes that stared directly at you, dressed in a cream sweater with a dress shirt underneath and black slacks, you were taken back at the man approaching you when he gently called your name.

“Higuruma-san, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You bowed before him, holding onto your shoulder bag as you felt your heart jump. Certainly, you did not expect him to mind but you could not complain.

“Thank you for waiting, shall we head to the place?” He smiled, gesturing you to follow him behind.

Higuruma led the way while you followed on the path of trees that led to a different neighbourhood that your friends may have not stayed in. At first, it was an awkward silence as you observed him from behind. The way he presented himself, his posture, dead focused eyes, a serious stature–you could sense the type of person he was, he seemed trustworthy at least. He kept a respectable distance for you, gave a bit of info of where you were heading so you decided to catch up his pace and walked beside him.

“So… what made you want to stay at this new place of yours? How did you find the place?”

His eyes peered at you before staring back in front of him, “It’s quiet, less distractions, and I find that it’s a walkable distance to campus too. The flat is well taken care of despite its old age and rent is cheaper too, I found the place from a newspaper ad I saw.”

“Couldn’t find any friends to stay with you?” You queried. “Cause my friends wanted to live in places that were too expensive or too busy to my liking.”

“Yeah, similar to your case, they wanted to stay on campus or nearby. Plus I don’t think I can pay the ridiculous amounts of rent, it’s almost criminal…” He shivered.

“No shame to that honestly, I’ve checked the location and I like it. More nature, I hope that the place looks good.” There were nearby amenities by the neighbourhood as you walked along the path: a corner store by the end of the street, a bakery sandwiched between two small apartment buildings, streetlights that would keep the night bright, and trees that decorated the street with spring colours. You could imagine coming by the area even if you didn’t live nearby the place, it was a more peaceful area than you could imagine.

Eventually your eyes couldn’t help but go back to the lad next to you. “You’re okay staying with a stranger?” you teased.

“I should be the one asking you that,” he chuckled, turning his way around to walk beside the street from you.

“I don’t necessarily mind. We’re both students and we can start something new, from scratch. Plus, we lived in student dorms after all and I’m pretty sure we’ve lived the best of the worst. Dirty dishes, loud banging music off the walls, and the worst… midnight fire alarms.”

He went silent briefly. “... Fair point, maybe us two people can work with this rather than having to stay with eight people under one roof.”

Some may say it was reckless, but to you, it was easier to trust him. Besides, there was no obligation to accept staying with him as long as you were comfortable with the location and the idea of living with him.

“I do have priorities. Do you clean after yourself often?” You pointed out.

“I clean after I finish my dishes, and I clean the kitchen once a week or two weeks when I’m busy. You can ask my flatmates for proof.”

To this you cackled aloud and he glanced at you with his lips slightly lifted to the side, probably he was starting to warm up to you. Your shoulders casually brushed against each other, “Alright, that settles it. I don’t mind staying with you.”

He corked a brow, amused at your judgement and he found himself feeling more loosened around you, “You have awfully low priorities.”

“Your answers are enough for me to understand that I can survive uni with you. And this conversation we’re sharing does share certain things even unsaid.” Your legs brisked ahead, turned around to him with a slight smug smirk. “In fact, I can probably make some correct assumptions about you, Higuruma-san.”

You could tell he was attempting to hide his laughter. Higuruma shook his head, already entertained how the conversation was going, “Kindly share them with me, I would like to know.”

Humming aloud as if you were already deeper in thought, slowing down your pace while you viewed your surroundings, you voiced out the immediate thoughts. “I’m betting you study law and in fact, you’re probably the top student in your year. You look like you aspire to be a lawyer and you’re probably volunteering in a few care homes during your free time, and actually you look like you have already found an internship you’re aiming to attend.”

“But your deepest darkest secret that no peer knows about you is….” You halted, fully facing him with a wild silly claim. “You watch Gintama but you hide that fact from everyone because you want to be perceived as mysterious.”

Higuruma absorbed the information for a moment as he cracked a small laugh, his voice was warm and it lightened up your chest.

“Definitely some correct assumptions.”

“Which ones?”

“You will find out sooner or later.” His smile grew wider, softer this time as he continued the pace, still walking in between the road and you.

“Definitely a law student then, my intuition says it aloud and you carry that air with you.” You continued along with him.

“Guilty, your honour.” He answered, now it felt much easier to talk in the air, no longer the barrier of being strangers existed between the two of you.

“Then can I make some correct assumptions about you?” He asked, his head turned to you cheekily.

“If I say no?” You jested, grinning at him.

“I’ll probably do it anyway. Silently.”

“Then do tell.”

This time, he took longer to assess his observations like he was rewinding the conversation as he carefully examined you, all while you waited patiently for his answer. He looked up with his thumb and finger on his chin, thinking thoroughly as he made his claims aloud.

“You’re definitely not a law student, we would’ve seen each other by now. In fact, this is probably our first time meeting so that would mean we didn’t share the same classes initially. We have way different class timings.” You nodded to this as an agreement to his assessment, albeit it was already a fact, not a wild guess as the ones you had made for him.

“You like the quiet like me since the nature of this neighbourhood attracted you in the first place and you don’t like the loudness from student dorms. Maybe you’ll like the walks from here or back.” To that, you rolled your eyes upwards, that statement was obvious since you did give him the clues.

“I think you like to cook because you like the kitchen, maybe it makes you feel at home.” To that, you paused. Surprised that he came to that conclusion but you weren’t mad about it, you were pleased that he could read it from you.

“What makes you say that?” You grinned.

His shoulders shrugged and he replied, “Just pure assessment.”

“So you’re not going to guess what course I’m taking?”

“Too many wild cards to choose from and too many hypotheticals, but certainly not law.”

“Okay but guess for me?”

To this, you could see his face pondering from his pouted lips and his eyes squinting, you sensed he did not do well with unproven hypotheticals. He gave a nonchalant gambled guess which turned out to be the wrong course that you had taken, it was anticipated since there was not much to be said within the both of you.

You chortled, playfully teasing him again, “Definitely some correct assumptions.”

“Which ones?”

“You’ll find out eventually.”

The gap between you shortened, you chatted about everything that came to mind of shared interests and for a second, it no longer felt that you were with a person you had just met.

The building itself was aged but not poorly maintained, it was a place that carried history and memories of generations before you. The landlord waited outside the premises, he spoke to an elderly couple who resided an apartment by the ground floor before he spotted Higuruma and you afterwards. The landlord shared a bit of stories about the apartment you were about to rent out since a small family had decided to move out of the premises. As you climbed up the stairs, he informed you about the rental and utility bills, a few key notices about noises, and the building’s heating system was reliable but out of date.

As you entered the apartment by the first floor, you carefully observed every space and nook you could find. It was bare and partially furnished, however you were envisioning what you would ideally add into the space. Higuruma watched you from behind since he had already been here before but he wondered about your opinion. Higuruma even added that if there was any furniture that needed to be added aside from the study desks and mattresses that the landlord graciously would cover, he didn’t mind splitting the costs with you.

Each bedroom door had its own lock so you definitely could feel safe in your own room, aside from the bathroom. Higuruma pointed out that he would prefer the larger bedroom but you didn’t mind your own room since it still had a big space for you. The bathroom was shared between the two of you but that wouldn’t be too much of an issue since there was a nice bathtub incorporated into the shower, hence you could work with that. 

The kitchen was not small but it was spacious for two or three people to cook; a stove with an oven to cook and bake, a refrigerator with a freezer compartment enough for two, a microwave, cupboards and counter shelves for storage, and a few leftover pots and plates from previous tenants. The living room was what attracted you from the moment you stepped inside the apartment, despite the leather couch being the only thing in it, the natural lighting passing through the large window was what sold you. You could see the outside from your view–the clear sky with trees that blossomed in spring and few passerbys on the street, the elderly couple that attended their small garden in the front yard. A place of serenity, you nearly forgot the chaos from living as a student.

You turned around by the window, facing Higuruma and the landlord, the sunlight framing your figure as you heartily spoke aloud, “So when shall we sign the papers?”

Unconsciously, Higuruma let out a small breath of relief, quiet that even he didn’t notice. When you agreed, his shoulders were enlightened and part of him looked forward to the new beginning. With your eyes locked into his brown eyes, in the same glint of excitement that you shared.

[sacred-ahhh]

shared spaces: series

synopsis: what’s stopping you and higuruma to admit you are in love? nothing, but you both won't claim it yet, not yet contains: all sfw, between platonic and romantic tensions, university au!law student higuruma x student reader, gender neutral, slow burn

An ad by the student's bulletin board, a small poster in the sea of entertainment events and invitations, was what it took to catch your eye. The placement seemed purposeful as if it was meant to blend in the background, only meant for those who could see it. You were searching for a new place to stay and the student dormitory was not the ideal accommodation; you had your fun in your first year but now was the time to settle somewhere quiet, maybe further away from campus and quiet. After dialing the phone number, a soft male voice answered.

Thus began a journey of two students, who were unclaimed but helplessly intertwined with another, and in the shared spaces they were in.

prologue

moving in

???

???

???

a/n: this might be a long series btw, because i'm so in love with higuruma that i'm trying to heal the past me in uni sksks but reader will be gender neutral. the series is inspired by veil by kotteri, solely for the intimate tension that's romantic that's somewhat isn't inherently romantic. some of these stories will be inspired by my own interactions! updates may be slow btw

credits: picture from pinterest and dividers by @dividers-are-us

[sacred-ahhh]

lovely obligation

synopsis: it was never kusakabe's intention to be the person who will present the news to you, his colleague's wife or the newly widow, rather he would want to be the last person to share the burden to you. on the contrary to his thoughts, he still carried the grief and guilt, obliged any necessary means to look after you. and truthfully, he should be the last person to love you contains: sfw, angst with fluff, implied smut in the end (haha... unless a seperate smut fic?), you are Nanami's widow, Sayaka is Kusakabe's sister in this fic, reader uses she/her pronouns word count: 8.7k

There wasn’t any better candidate to present the news to his dead colleague’s wife. Kusakabe Atsuya felt obligated to come along with Ino Takuma to present the news to you. He had known to be numb to the brutality of jujutsu reality, lived through his job on the daily, honing the bare minimum while being nothing extraordinary as the others. Aside from having to risk his own life on the line, being the bearer of bad news was the worst thing that came along. He had grown used to it, however, he preferred being the last person to present the news.

Kusakabe knew how to carry grief well, he had lived through it when his younger sister Sayaka lost her husband then her son Takeru afterwards. 

It was why he would be by Ino’s side when Ino couldn’t process his own grief when he realised his senior was long gone from the world. The moment they arrived at your doorstep as Ino sat by the passenger’s seat, glancing by the window to see what should have remained to be Nanami Kento’s home, having to face you confronted Ino that he wasn’t the strong sorcerer he wanted to be. It was why Kusakabe was here by your doorstep in the first place alone. 

Perhaps he could carry grief too well because he carried a lot of guilt instead, more than what other people may realise. More than he would admit to himself.

When Kusakabe presented the news to you, the fabric on hand and bitter condolences slipped from his lips, the feeling crept into his spine. He had watched your face churned when he arrived by your door, he could sense your heart shattering when he called your name gently as he took out the fabric from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry for your loss. Kento was a good man, a good co-worker, a good teacher and he remains honourable until his death.”

After you took the familiar golden cow print tie, you wept heavily by the doorstep and held onto the doorframe to keep yourself up. He was hesitant to even touch you, not because he could not empathise with you, rather he did further than he realised. So, he held your arm steadily as you sobbed. Firm in his grip, he may have been stoic in emotion but his warm touch secured you on earth. When your grief was too much to handle for him, his head peeked at Ino, urging the young lad to come out from the car and comfort you, to which Ino finally did.

Though Kusakabe could not provide the words of comfort you may have needed, in the way his hand firmly grabbed your arm, he had given you the strength to survive. 

‘It’s never easy but I got you.’

He was not one who simply could share the weight of guilt and grief on his shoulders. If he could, he would like to shrug it off. Yet his actions did speak louder than he would like, hence he kept them as a secret.

After Nanami’s passing, he checked on you rarely since Ino would generally visit you from time to time; only coming by to help you sort out the paperwork whenever you needed it, when it became overbearing to handle. He would handle whatever Nanami had left behind in the school, settled his overtime pay, supported the funeral and prayer arrangements when needed, but he kept himself distant from you. Sometimes, requesting Ino to deliver the settled paperwork in his stead. Even then, there was an anonymous hefty donation sent to you days after the wake, a clean swept grave with a pair of burnt incense sticks along packaged bakery bread left by Nanami’s grave on multiple occasions. He never wanted anyone to know that it was his generosity that silently lingered. A man beloved by many, Kusakabe thought he could stay in the background like he had grown used to. 

Not until you caught him after eight months since the funeral, he stood by the grave while he reflected on his cowardly life; still immensely grateful that he lived but he wondered how Nanami could have been saved.

“I was wondering who else kept coming by to see Kento…”

He felt embarrassed until he laid his eyes on you, surviving and your eyes were hollow, you were weathered since that day. Almost similar to Sayaka’s and that strung his chest. You meekly smiled at him with slightly brighter eyes than his sister, it was enough to ease him.

“Please don’t leave yet, Kusakabe-san.”

‘Shit.’

This shouldn’t be out of the ordinary, Kusakabe has visited all of his colleagues’ graves. He hadn’t been sure why he felt the shame when you caught him by Nanami’s grave. After you made your prayers and offerings, you both sat on a bench shaded by the oak tree, coincidentally facing the grave.

“Kento doesn’t have any siblings, and his parents can’t visit him often.” You shared, gazing at the golden emblems on stone, still surreal by your late husband’s death. “It’s nice to know there are still people who come to him now.”

Kusakabe stayed silent, sucking in the situation as he let out a deep exhale, thinking deeply of the blonde man. He took out a lollipop from his pocket, fiddling it around, “People look up to him, I still do and it scares me because I have to remember he was younger than me too.”

God, he wished he didn’t quit smoking, it would be easier to stall himself in this situation. “Has Ino-kun been looking after you?”

“He does at times, but I want him to focus on his life. I can’t have him hover me all the time anyways. He’s not far much younger than me but he has a lot to live for.” He grimaced at you, stayed painfully silent when he heard you say that, ironic but gutwrenching.

It was a warm late afternoon, bright with a breeze that carried the mountains and trees, the kind that Nanami would have loved, if they weren’t in a cemetery of all places. You continued, “I love Kento more deeply than I thought I realised now, and I loved him every second when he was alive.” 

“He was my first love, my first experience, not my first kiss but he made me forget anything that was before him. He was the man I chose to live with for the rest of my life and… we thought about having kids too and he would have loved—” Reminiscing what could have been was easy but you wanted to avoid the truth that laid in front of your eyes. The future possibilities you made with Nanami, all of it became hurtful fantasies.

Your nails were digging into your skin, the clenched sensation within your chest grew deeper. “I-I still don’t know how to live on when I wake up with nothing by my side, I can’t face it every single day in my life thinking of what our future would have been. A part of me wants to drift– drift back to the station and just— I just— can’t—“

A flash memory of Takeru came to Kusakabe. Remembering his naughty nephew who would run around his apartment because Kusakabe was chasing after his stolen trousers.

And Sayaka, his bright, cheerful sister who laughed so loud that it echoed the walls. 

Transitioning it back to the melancholic, immobile state she was in after losing Takeru. A living husk. All while Kusakabe had lost his beloved nephew and helplessly watched his living sister deteriorate.

The thought of you, Nanami’s beloved wife, as an empty shell; he couldn’t allow it to happen, Nanami wouldn’t want it either.

“Stop.”

A rough hand held onto your arm, that same grasp you felt that day Kusakabe announced the news to you, grounding you back to where you were now. “You— You don’t have to live without him anymore. Carry him and face the world with every memory of him.”

“Live onwards with him from what he gave to you, he left with his love in you so you have to love that part of him, cherish it even. If you’re going to drift away, then you’re also leaving what he left for you. He’s left his memory with me, Ino, his students and everyone else.” The same hand ruffled your head, almost frustrated at you as he tussled your hair but you glanced at the softness behind his hard face. He passed his lollipop to you, you noticed it was pineapple flavoured.

“So stay in this world and love every piece of him, the ones you and I carry of him. Just… stay.”

Kusakabe offered to drive you back home, to which you agreed even though he clearly wouldn’t be at ease if you had refused. It was a commute to return back to your home. He hoped he gave you the encouragement to live on, even when you tried to survive with what you have.

As long as you kept moving forward, he would have been happy watching you in his lane.

Maybe it was fate that played between the two of you or some evil cursed spirit in the sky that pushed Kusakabe, but you start to reach each other more often – more than what Kusakabe would like along with more guilt that crawled into him. By cruel fate, he has failed to avoid you every time. And he found himself not being able to refuse you at all.

It started when it was Nanami’s one year death anniversary and you wanted to invite everyone Nanami knew for prayers, and you called Kusakabe first to help in the planning. Anxious, overwhelmed to arrange the event from dialling numbers, to organise the itinerary of the day, catering for guests, on top of the grief that lingered for your husband, Kusakabe never failed to take the lead. He made it so easy to take action and supported you, all for your sake. You reached out to him afterall, of course he would help you even with grumbles under his breath, not letting you stress over from organising the event.

Next, it was at the supermarket and in fact, he spotted you in the produce aisle while he was grocery shopping for the weekly meal shop for him and Sayaka. The only store that had everything Sayaka needed and you happened to be there. He tried his very best to not face you and maintained the respectable space for you as your dead husband’s colleague. It just was not appropriate for him to approach you at all, he has the utmost respect for Nanami and especially for you. Hence, he casually made opposite turns every time he saw you browsing at a distance.

Multiple times.

It all got twisted when he turned to the corner aisle and forcibly faced you.

Small talk here and there, he found himself driving you back home since your home was further away from the store. Albeit, you told him you were fine on your own. You genuinely could sense the dread behind his awkward smile when he insisted, he said that it was not like he could not spare fifteen minutes of his time to drive you back home. It sounded as if he was mostly convincing himself that this was not a big deal, and you knew this was an act of compensation for your loss.

Then he noticed your home did need some manpower when he came by. 

Your broken leaking faucet outside your home he saw? He has got you covered, fixed it swiftly. He told you to inform him or Ino for any fixes needed in the house. Even then, he came by another day to do a check around the house.

Your car broke down in the middle of the road? He left work as soon as possible to find you, even called roadside assistance for you.

The plumbing company wasn’t being helpful for you? He could easily manage this task since he has done the plumbing in school.

He, in fact, was too handy. You came to realise that he may have appeared rough around the edges, pessimistic at times, but he was indeed kind, even more hardworking than he claimed as a slacker.

Quiet, reliable, and never complained about taking care of Sayaka or his responsibility as a teacher, the only thing he would groan about was having to be a grade one sorcerer. Not once had he ever shown an ounce of annoyance when it came to helping you, his dead colleague’s wife. Hence in return, you cooked meals for him, went on the milestone to create dishes that Sayaka could digest or what her favourite meals were. During your free time, you would visit him and care for Sayaka. He tried denying your help when you came by his apartment, shared conversations with Sayaka and assisted in her rehabilitation.

“It’s the least I could do, Kusa. As compensation for helping me cope.”

Sayaka adored you.

And he did too. More than adoration.

The worst part was that he cannot further the distance at this stage. Not because he couldn’t refuse you, rather he wanted to be at your reach, close to you. He never wanted what he desired. That desire of being with you accumulated, so did his guilt.

That distance became closer than he wished.

Nearly two years went by, you had the sudden pang of realisation that you were living without Nanami, that struck your heart harsher than it should one night as grief. You didn’t reach out to Kusakabe this time, you thought you'd inconvenienced him enough with the baggage you carried.

Yet, he came to your home that night, out of instinct, all because you didn’t answer your phone for the whole day. That night on the couch you sat and spilled your mourns while he existed by your side to hold you from drifting, your head laid comfortably on his shoulder as you slowly dozed off. After spending quiet moments often with him, you no longer feel restricted and you could completely breathe life once more.

‘What am I doing?’

Kusakabe Atsuya stood in front of Nanami’s headstone with an incense between his fingers, lollipop in his mouth, mimicking his old smoking habit. The smoke burned down slowly while he stared at the carved name like it might punch him. He was too close to coming back to the habit after the turn of events in the past few years.

Kusakabe rubbed the back of his neck, scowling. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t start judging me with that face,” he muttered, flicking ash into the damp grass. He could imagine it too well, the silent assessment Nanami would make if he had seen the stick in Kusakabe’s hand while rambling to the grave often about work or general updates regarding you.

The wind tugged at the edges of his coat.

“Kento, please rise from the fucking dead and kill me. I am begging you.”

The silence answered, as it always did. He laughed once, but there was no humor in it. Just air and the raw edges of emotions he was afraid to claim aloud.

“I’m in love with your wife. How fucking dare I? Like I’m just some sleazy creep who's been preying on a vulnerable widow for years. I’ve tried to run away from her every time but clearly—” His voice broke. He swallowed hard and tried again. “I’m not able to. I can’t.”

The words hung between him and the stone: heavy, unforgiving.

He imagined what Nanami would say; a dry, measured response that made Kusakabe feel small but seen as a problem to be solved. That was the kind of man Nanami had been—steady, reliable, the sort of person people leaned on. The man you deserved to share your happiness with, a man that Kusakabe was not.

“She’s amazing,” he continued, quieter, the admission scraping his throat raw. “She is beautiful when she smiles and laughs, she’s laughing more now too. She looks at me so graciously, and fuck, it’s no wonder you married her.”

He exhaled, the shudder in his breath from the shame he had for himself. “You were supposed to be with her, you both had bigger dreams, a future you were supposed to build with her.”

The grass rustled, a bird called in the trees. Life was moving on, but the two men, dead and alive, couldn’t. Kusakabe swallowed, “I’m just taking what should have been yours.”

He hated the way it made his chest ache, the way guilt coiled around his ribs like barbed wire.

“I love her, Kento.” His voice cracked, repeating his confession again as repentance. He looked away across the cemetery, where rows of stones marked lives and endings, the one that he stood in front of shouldn't have his end. “But out of anyone, it shouldn’t be me that should love her.”

He closed his eyes, every image of you implanted in his head as his wanted torment, “I don’t want her to love me even if it makes me the happiest man ever, god it will make me burst.”

The confession tasted bitter under the coated sweetness on his tongue, for he did want to love you. He hated that he wanted the love you’ve projected to him whenever you smiled at him—really smiled, not the polite, distant expressions of a widow that carried immense sorrow. He hated that he held such a dangerous yearning for a future he had no right to. A future where they weren’t two people bounded by loss, but where you reached beyond it, reaching for him.

He opened his eyes, hoping for a different outcome but the headstone remained unchanged.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Forgiving wasn’t enough and the weight was heavier still.

The days after that visit to the grave changed something in Kusakabe.

There was no sudden declaration, no explosive realisation. Only a quiet shift like a door slowly closing your way into his home. Initially, it was small things. When you came by to visit his sister, Kusakabe would already be out on an errand. When you texted to ask if he needed groceries or Sayaka’s monthly prescription, his replies were polite but distant.

“No need. I’ve got it handled.”

When you stopped by unexpectedly, Kusakabe would let you in and remain somewhere else in the apartment whether it was another room, another floor, or another excuse.

Kusakabe had never been particularly expressive but he had never avoided you either. Before, he would linger in the doorway when you visited. He would complain about his students’ incompetence, deranged sorcerers, or the absurdity of cursed spirits that came by at an inconvenient, unavoidable time. Sometimes he would stay long after his sister had gone to sleep, sitting by you in the living room with tea, where the two of you were talking about nothing and everything.

Now he barely looked at you. You noticed that he stopped coming by to you in your home.

Once, when you brought food for his sister, you heard him moving in the hallway. For a brief moment, you thought he would come back into the kitchen like he always did. Instead, his footsteps retreated.

Another time, he left the apartment entirely, informing you to leave after Sayaka falls asleep. That was when the suspicion started forming into something heavier in your chest. Avoidance wasn’t Kusakabe’s style. He complained, he grumbled, he dragged his feet but he didn’t hide nor speak to you of his own issues.

Weeks passed like that with polite distances, careful absences, conversations cut short. 

Until one evening, you arrived earlier than usual as the apartment door opened before you could knock. Kusakabe stood there, keys in hand like he had been about to leave, both of you froze by the doorway.

His expression hardened immediately while he averted his gaze elsewhere.

“… You’re early.”

Your eyes narrowed, arms crossed, “You’re ignoring me. I know it.”

Kusakabe’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t look surprised you’d said it. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” he replied flatly as he glanced back at you.

The words were blunt but his delivery was wrong. Quick, rehearsed, exhausted mentally, it was more evident that he was avoiding you for the last couple of weeks.

You stepped forward instead of backing away, “Atsuya, something is bothering you so don’t lie to me.”

Hand gripping on the doorframe while the other shoved his keys into his pocket, he looked away from you. That alone was enough to confirm it. Kusakabe Atsuya was not the type to dodge eye contact. If he was irritated, he said it. If he was tired, he said it. If he didn’t want you around, he would’ve told you weeks ago. Yet now his gaze had shifted to the side, jaw tightening, clenching on the lollipop stick.

“I’m not. Sayaka is asleep now, you should leave.”

“No.”

Kusakabe exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair like the situation itself was a headache.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Then tell me what this is.”

His fingers squeezed around his keys in the pocket, letting it dig into his skin harder and harder to hold himself back from his truth. For a moment, you thought he might snap back with one of his usual sarcastic deflections, where he would dismiss and brush everything that occurred with valid reasons. Instead, he just stood there with no words to offer, only exhaustion in his eyes flickered into deep and heavier thoughts, ones he clearly didn’t want you to see.

His expression grew serious as he had reached a decision in mind. He called your name sternly.

“Don’t come by anymore,” he said quietly.

The words landed like a stone dropped in still water, a finality that was cutthroat and refused for any other option to be considered or heard. The words landed heavier and you blankly stared at him, the sentence hadn’t fully formed in your mind yet, awaiting for it to be rearranged into coherent sense if you gave it a second longer. The hallway felt smaller suddenly as the air grew thicker. Your shoulders shrunk, your hands loosened to the sides as his words registered.

All those quiet moments flashed through your mind without permission; the evenings in his kitchen, the endless chores and school work he’d complain about but still finish in the shared space, the way he’d grumble when you insisted on helping his sister with things he claimed he could do himself. And the rare, fleeting cheeky smiles he tried to hide behind his hand. The way your homes had slowly stopped feeling like a place tied only to handling the anguish, where Kusakabe became a space where you had begun to heal. Nanami still held the piece of your heart and it always would be, his memory sat in your chest as a permanent scar but there had been room again for warmth, laughter, and the man in front of you.

Your eyes sharply gaped at him again, inspecting closer. His posture was rigid, bracing himself for your reaction but your voice came out smaller than you intended.

“Kusa, have I done something?”

Your fingers curled slightly at your sides, trying to stop their trembling and failing. The anger was there, sharp and rising but it tangled with confusion and something that felt dangerously close to heartbreak.

All that happened building up to where it had gone didn’t make sense. 

Not after the way he’d been there through your worst days consistently. The quiet mornings when you couldn’t even speak Nanami’s name without breaking, the nights when grief hit you out of nowhere and Kusakabe had just sat nearby, complaining about work like normal life still existed, listening to you, remaining by you even when you felt stuck. He’d been careful with you, gentle in the way only someone rough around the edges could be.

Somewhere along the way, you had started looking forward to seeing him, looking for him, even in the grief and guilt you faced when you loved a dead man.

“I thought…” You stopped, swallowing hard. The rest of the sentence refused to come out.

Your chest tightened, anger finally pushing its way to the surface through the cracks of hurt. “You can’t just shut me out like this,” you said, shaking your head. “You don’t get to decide that on your own, not give me a proper answer and tell me to leave. What have I done to you?”

Your eyes searched his face desperately for an answer.

“Atsuya, talk to me.”

For a split second something flickered across his face—pain, raw and unguarded, it vanished behind the familiar wall of irritation he wore like armor. He instantly noticed the small crack of your voice. Kusakabe had spent a long time watching you carefully in these years, down to the smallest shift in tension. He knew how your pain had projected, now it was standing in his doorway looking at him like he’d just torn something apart.

For a moment, he almost answered you honestly. Admit to you how much you tore him apart, body and soul, confessed to you how much he had fallen for you and mesmerised by you, the overwhelming joy that he had when Sayaka could speak to another person who wasn’t him or a cursed doll.

Instead, he clicked his tongue under his breath and turned his head away, dragging a hand down his face as if the whole situation was just another annoying problem dumped on his plate.

“No,” he muttered, rough. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all.”

That was the problem; you hadn’t done anything wrong because you had been kind, patient, gentle in ways Kusakabe didn’t think he deserved. Every time you smiled at him, something inside his chest twisted tighter. Every time you showed up with groceries and cooked Sayaka’s favourite warm meals, or sat at the table talking about your day, or laughed at one of his half-hearted complaints. He forgot, just for a second, that none of this should exist.

You weren’t supposed to be part of his life like this.

You had once belonged to someone better.

Someone who’s bare remains buried under cold stone.

“You have to stop coming here,” he repeated, more firmly this time as he clenched the keys in his hand harder. “You’ve done more than enough for me and Sayaka already.”

“Atsuya—”

“I’ll handle things from here.”

He’d stood in his apartment nights before thinking about this conversation, imagining every possible way it could go wrong if he was confronted by you. Every possible way you could look at him like you were looking now. Facing you in the moment, the hurt, confusion, the shattered eyes; he was truthfully crumbling inside.

Your voice rose, frustration breaking through the cracks in your composure, “That’s not the point!”

“It’s easier this way.”

“Easier?” you echoed, trembled. “Easier for what?”

He didn’t answer as the truth sat right behind his teeth, clawing its way up his throat. Love and guilt he harboured since you appeared in his life often. He scoffed quietly and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Look,” he said gruffly, forcing his voice back into that familiar irritated tone. “You’ve got your own life, you are still young. You shouldn’t be wasting time babysitting a grumpy sorcerer in his mid-thirties and his sister, you don’t have to be here anymore.”

Your expression hardened, “That’s not what this is, I’m not here because I am some voluntary caretaker.”

“Isn't that what you’ve been doing?”

“No, what are you even talking about?!” The answer came fiercely and certain. Your eyes searched his face again, desperate for something real behind the wall he kept throwing up that was avoiding the truth.

“We were friends,” you said quietly.

More than that, the unspoken words hung in the air between you, wide eyes burning with clashing emotions that demanded answers. You had to tear your eyes away, biting your lip to compose yourself.

“When you told me that Kento died during the Shibuya incident…” His shoulders locked so tightly that it was painful from holding the weight of that memory. Your voice softened around it, a ghost that was still fragile to you, “I thought that was it for me, I wanted it to end.”

Kusakabe’s gaze dropped to the floor as he recalled that version of you who mourned endlessly. The quiet way you had spoken during those early days, the hollow look in your eyes like you were moving through life several seconds too late. The way people tiptoed around you from the contagious grief that shackled you.

“I thought the rest of my life would just be surviving. Pretending I was okay so people would stop worrying, all so that I could eventually disappear.”

Kusakabe’s jaw tightened as he peered at you, then your gaze lifted to him again.

“But then you kept showing up, even though you didn't have to.”

You laughed weakly, shaking your head, “You complained the entire time, speaking out loud how much you hate your job. God, you’re the most unpleasant man I know.”

“And somehow,” you continued, your voice trembling now, “I started feeling like I was healing.”

Kusakabe swallowed as a light flickered on his face, slightly while suppressing it within himself.

“And then I was healing.” Your eyes locked onto his as the silence fell over the empty hallway again but full of everything of the clear unspoken words. Your hands were quivering, whispering, “Do you know how terrifying that was? Because it meant life was still moving, without him.”

Your breath hitched slightly, “It meant I could smile again and laugh. It meant I could love again even with Kento in my heart. I could start loving people again.”

That word landed like a blow to the chest, his breath stalled and you kept staring at him directly, “And in all of that, you were there.”

The implication hung there, undeniable, and that sharply twisted in his ribs. 

He let out a quiet breath through his nose, as if the memories itself irritated him since he hadn’t planned any of that nor intended to become part of your life. It began as a responsibility to Nanami who had been his close colleague, caring after the people he left behind had felt necessary to him and it was supposed to be temporary. Somewhere along the way, it had become a routine where it had turned into familiarity.

And familiarity had become something far more dangerous.

If anything, to him, the worst thing about this was the fact he could not regret being a part of your life, be the person who made you smile. He was ashamed of himself that he could not regret it at all.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he muttered. The words came out rough, not angry however, almost strained at the suggestion of an actual reality that he could have.

Your brows furrowed, “Why not?”

“Because you’re talking like I saved you.” His gaze hardened slightly. “And I didn’t.”

A beat passed. Then, he forced the words out, “You were supposed to move forward, you have a lot to live now, you have so much to do with your life, just not with me.”

The words rang in your ears, hollow and cruel in a way Kusakabe had never been before. Your head shook immediately, the reaction instinctive.

“That’s not—Atsuya, that’s not what I want, that’s not what I’m saying. You don’t get to decide that, I–”

He took a step back, widening the space between you enough to make the distance feel deliberate.

“You’re misunderstanding,” he muttered.

“Then explain it to me.”

He couldn’t deliberate it any further since it meant saying his truth out loud. Instead, Kusakabe did the one thing he knew how to do when something mattered too much. He shut down as his expression flattened into something closed and distant.

“You should go home, I’m not giving you an option.” The finality in his voice was like a door slamming shut.

“Atsuya–”

“I mean it.”

The tone was sharper now, cutting through the air before you could try again. Your hands clenched at your sides. You searched his face one last time, desperately hoping to find some crack in the wall he’d thrown up.

Something that said he didn’t mean it.

Something that said stay.

He wouldn’t even look at you anymore, not a glance. His gaze had dropped somewhere past your shoulder, hoping you were already gone. The realisation settled slowly and painfully in your chest, seeping into your eyes, he was rejecting you.

“… Okay.”

It was the only word you could manage without breaking. You turned before he could fully see your face crumble. Your footsteps down the hallway sounded far too loud and Kusakabe softly closed his apartment door, but the moment he shut it, his shoulders sagged as his heart had snapped and sunk.

“Fuck,” he whispered, hand gripping on the door handle tighter as a small glimpse on your face imprinted in head, enough to create the destruction in him.

Kusakabe had almost got what he wanted since you stopped coming by, the apartment felt quieter than it used to, that Sayaka pointed it out too after a few weeks.

“You haven’t invited her over in a while,” she said quietly, one evening from the dinner table.

Glossing over the fact that Sayaka broke her usual silence to search for you, Kusakabe grunted from the kitchen, “She’s busy.”

It was a lie so obvious it didn’t even deserve a response.

The routine of work started feeling out of place. Somehow your absence had crept into places he hadn’t expected; the empty chair at the kitchen table, the lack of groceries you used to bring without asking, a missing simmering pot of stew you would whip up for the household, the quiet moments where he’d normally hear your voice teasing him about something stupid. Everything crashed down into a routine filled with silence. It was foreign but Kusakabe felt it was necessary despite the ache he had in yearning for you. He believed he could move past this, piling paperwork, patrols and training sessions until Ino showed up in his office while Kusakabe slouched in his chair with a stack of reports to distract himself.

The younger sorcerer leaned against Kusakabe’s desk at Jujutsu High, arms crossed, expression unusually serious. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Kusakabe didn’t even look up from the paperwork in front of him, teeth toying the plastic stick between his lips, “Good afternoon to you too.”

“What the hell did you do? Why did you stop seeing her?”

That nearly got a reaction from Kusakabe. His eyes glued onto the paperwork as he paused momentarily, “Who told you that?”

“She looked like hell when I visited her a few days ago and she froze when I asked her about you,” Ino straightened slightly, frowning.

The plastic snapped in Kusakabe's mouth, he took it out and stared at it for a second before tossing it in the bin. “She’ll be fine.”

“No, she won’t and I’m telling you that she won’t because she’s been down in the dumps.”

Kusakabe finally looked up, glared daggers at the young sorcerer, “You done?”

Silence hung in the office, Kusakabe leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, already exhausted by where this conversation was clearly heading.

“You shouldn’t be sticking your nose into other people’s business, kid.”

“But you stopped seeing her.”

“That’s none of your concern, you’re supposed to check on her if she’s doing fine.”

“It is my job to tell you, especially when both of you look miserable.”

Kusakabe gave a dry laugh, “Life’s miserable, get used to it.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

Kusakabe waved a hand dismissively, reaching for a pencil to annotate his paperwork, “You’re being dramatic Ino, you need to leave now. I’m busy.”

Ino observed him carefully, unsatisfied by his reaction as he muttered, “I am not leaving because it’s so clear that you love her.”

The pencil lead cracked in Kusakabe’s grip as soon as it touched the paper, the room grew very still as Kusakabe groaned at the supposed flimsy pencils.

“Watch your mouth before you make your claims,” Kusakabe muttered.

“And she clearly loves you,” Ino argued back.

“Enough with the nonsense.”

Kusakabe shoved his chair back and stood abruptly. The legs scraped loudly across the floor, standing tall to the young sorcerer, scowling at Ino but Ino levelled his intimidation.

Ino continued before he could shut the conversation down again, “You stopped seeing her because you think it’s wrong, isn’t it? Is it because of Nanami?”

That name cut through the room like a blade, Kusakabe turned sharply. His jaw worked like he was grinding something bitter between his teeth, the words finally slipped out, rough and raw.

“She is his wife, Ino.”

His voice wasn’t loud but he carried the weight of a dead man that he’d been choking down for years. Kusakabe continued, “We worked together for years. And now what? I just step into his life like nothing happened?”

Kusakabe dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement as he sighed.

“You really think Nanami would hate you for loving someone he loved too? She was dying after he was gone and between you and I, we both know who mostly helped her live on again.” Ino’s voice softened, frowning at the absurdity of it. If Nanami saw the state he left you in after his death, he would have done anything to keep you living. He would have been immensely grateful for Kusakabe who had made you smile and kept you going after these years. “You didn’t steal anything from him.”

A long pause stretched between them as Ino sighed in exasperation, “But you are hurting her now, she’s not happier these days, Kusakabe.”

That landed harder than anything else, Kusakabe’s shoulders sank slightly as he replayed the flash memory of you by his door, it wrecked him.

“You have to see her, Kusakabe-san,” Ino said.

Kusakabe looked away again.

“I told her to stay away, she’s not gonna want to see me.”

Another silence.

Ino shook his head, turning his way to the sliding door as he paused by the entrance, his back facing Kusakabe. “You’re a grown man. If you still want to run away, fine but don’t pretend you’re doing it for her.”

The door clicked shut behind him and Kusakabe stood there after Ino left, processing and contemplating as the office became strangely empty. He stared at the clock hanging by the wall, the time reached after school hours. 

Eventually he grabbed his keys and coat, swiftly bolted his way out.

By the time Kusakabe left Jujutsu High the sun was already dipping toward the horizon, driving his way somewhere else that diverted his way to his home before he could overthrow the idea or prevent himself from stopping his way. The familiar streets passed by in a blur until he reached your building, stopping across the same street to your house. He stood there staring up at the windows, his chest felt tight as he unwrapped the lollipop to ease his nerves. By the time he reached your door his hand hovered in the air for several seconds before finally knocking.

The knock came late enough in the evening that you almost ignored it since you weren’t expecting anyone for the night. You were growing used to the heavy, unmoving quiet that settled into the corners of your home after sunset. The kind that made you replay old memories unconsciously and unwarranted, at least you were surviving and moving past it.

When the knock came again firmer, you hesitated before walking to the door, your hand rested on the handle as you contemplated if this was worth the human interaction.

Albeit, you opened it and your breath left your lungs as your eyes widened as Kusakabe stood there, intense and ruminative.

He was much worse than you remembered. Tired that ran deeper than lack of sleep, his tie loosened, coat half-buttoned like he’d put it on without thinking, his hair was slightly disheveled from the wind outside.

For a few seconds neither of you spoke, your chest tightened painfully.

“Atsuya.” Your voice was careful when you called him.

That was all it took for the tension in his shoulders to spike again, your voice was gentle that he hadn’t registered that he was yearning to hear you and see you. He glanced past you briefly into your home before looking back at you, confirming you were alone, that he hadn’t interrupted anything. He pant out an audible breath as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You didn’t answer right away because the last time you’d stood in a doorway with him, he had told you to leave, told you not to come back. Your fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the door, eyes peering to the side aggrievedly.

“I thought you said I shouldn’t see you anymore.”

Kusakabe slightly flinched, his gaze dropped to the floor but he was not too startled from your reaction since he was expecting.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I did say that.”

Silence stretched between you, he exhaled slowly to brace himself. “I also said a lot of stupid shit.”

That got your attention as your eyes rolled to him, Kusakabe lifted his head again, meeting your eyes properly this time. There was no temper in his expression, neither deflection; only him and his confession to you, his raw honesty that looked almost uncomfortable on him.

“I owe you an explanation.”

He didn’t step inside, he stayed right there in the doorway similar as you did last time when you were at his apartment, only he didn’t deserve to cross the threshold since.

“You know I visit Nanami’s grave sometimes, I went there a couple weeks before you came to the apartment that day,” he said aloud.

Your brows knitted slightly, waiting patiently for Kusakabe as he let out a humorless breath.

“I stood there whining for half an hour trying to figure out how to say it out loud.”

“To say what?”

“That I’m in love with his wife.” 

The words landed heavily between you as your heart skipped steadily, you felt your shoulders loosened before Kusakabe cracked a short, bitter laugh to ease the quiet. 

“Real classy, right?”

He continued before you could respond back to him.  “I kept thinking maybe if I said it enough times it would start sounding wrong enough that I’d stop feeling it.”

“So I did the next best thing,” he said. “I ran.”

His eyes returned to yours. “That’s why I stopped seeing you. I thought if I stayed away long enough, it would go away.”

You felt your heart rate raise before you braced yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly against the door, the small movement of the gap between your lips while you processed his words. The rumpled, constantly aggravated expression you had known him for, became too delicate.

“I kept my distance because every time I was around you, I forgot I wasn’t supposed to want this.” His voice dropped lower, releasing another breath. “You’d smile at me and suddenly the whole thing felt normal, that scared the hell out of me.”

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

“… Why?”

Kusakabe glanced at you, knowing the answer should have been obvious. The honesty in it made your chest ache, you needed his answers to reveal itself past his lips.

“He was my friend,” Kusakabe continued. “A good one, one of the few people in this job I actually deeply respected.”

His hands flexed slightly at his sides, laying himself out to you bare and vulnerable of the years he had held himself back to. “And somehow I ended up falling in love with the person he loved most, like a piece of shit I was.”

Then he spoke more gently, “But staying away from you felt worse, hurting you was the worst.”

Jaw tightened before his voice faltered into a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “It turns out I’m a lot more selfish than Nanami ever was because I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

Your heart stumbled in your chest. You stepped a little closer to the doorway without realizing.

“I love you, I’ve been in love with you for a long while,” he confessed aloud without any hesitation, sarcasm or grumbling. A reassurance to you, the truth he held back from the moment he fell for you after that fateful day in the cemetery.

“And I know that makes things complicated,” he continued quietly. “I know he’ll always be part of your life. He should be.”

Another pause.

“But if there’s even a small part of you that—” He cut himself with his shoulders sagged slightly. Kusakabe rubbed the back of his neck again, suddenly looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Actually, no. That’s not fair. I didn’t come here to ask for anything, I just couldn’t keep lying to you anymore.”

His gaze softened. 

“That’s the truth. I’m stupidly, hopelessly in love with you,” he finished quietly. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

After laying out his disclosures, the hallway felt suspended in place. The world had paused to see what you would do with the confessions he had admitted between you while he prepared for impact. Shoulders tense, jaw tight, eyes already anticipating rejection even though he had said he wasn’t asking for anything.

“You are stupid and you are the biggest prick, Kusa.”

You uttered, ensuring the words hit him like a slap, eyes squeezing shut for half a second as he let out a quiet sigh through his nose. He had already accepted the next outcome since it was well deserved after how he had been treating you for a few weeks, he was already preparing to have the door slammed to his face where you would yell at him to leave. He fully turned to you, finding that you were still there, not angry in the way he expected, still looking at him as if he was everything. You broke the silence before he could spiral any further.

“After so long I had loved Kento even until this day, I had been able to breathe once more for a time, for a year or two. It was all because of you.”

His brows pulled together slightly. That wasn’t where he thought this was going.

Your voice trembled, but you didn’t look away.

“I’ve fallen for you, Atsuya.”

The world seemed to tilt, Kusakabe genuinely thought he had misheard you, his brain lagged behind the words like it was refusing to process them.

You continued anyway, “God, you’re not the only one who feels guilty because I felt guilty falling in love again, like I was betraying Kento. For a while, I-I couldn’t live without him.” 

You took a breath in, letting your words seep through as you added, “I still wake up, breathe, shop for groceries, remember how he took his coffee, then I forget that sometimes too. And that used to terrify me but I was able to live on. You kept me alive.”

Your eyes glistened, but your voice stayed steady. “I could never want anyone else—it has to be you because you gave me every reason to smile, laugh, cry and love. I love you, Atsuya.”

Silence slammed down between you. Kusakabe stared at you like you had just spoken in another language. This was the exact future he had spent trying to prevent. And now you were standing right in front of him, offering it freely.

“You really know how to make things complicated,” he retorted hoarsely, then stopped. His hand dragged down his face slowly. The line would have sounded like one of his usual complaints if his voice hadn’t been shaking slightly.

You stepped closer enough that the space between you finally disappeared. Kusakabe examined you for any confirmation that you hadn’t just said something out of grief or loneliness.

“Do you have any idea how much I tried to stop this?” he asked quietly.

You gave a weak, watery smile.

“I noticed.”

A short breath of laughter escaped him. Another silence passed, softer now and less tense.

“You’re sure?”

You seemed to read that thought in his face. Your hand reached forward slowly, fingers brushing against the sleeve of his coat before resting against his arm.

“You idiot, I’m not replacing him,” you murmured softly. “I’m choosing you, learn the difference.”

The fragile hold within his chest finally gave way, he let out a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding for weeks.

“Kento would give me so much shit for this,” he muttered.

Your lips curved faintly, “I think he’d be relieved there’s someone who is finally putting up with me and you.”

That actually made Kusakabe laugh quietly and rough. The tension that had lived in his shoulders for months loosened slightly. His other hand moved hesitantly as he wasn’t fully sure he had the right to yet. His fingers closed gently around yours where they rested on his arm, holding you as if you were fragile.

“You’re still stuck with a grumpy bastard,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing your knuckles absentmindedly.

“But if you’re really serious about this, I won’t push you away anymore,” Kusakabe’s voice softened in a way it rarely did.

“I love you, Atsuya. Don’t run from me please,” a hand lightly brushed its way to his jaw, pulling him in as an invitation to him.

Kusakabe’s hands released and found your face, cupping it as if you were sacred all at once. His thumbs traced the line of your jaw, lingering there as if memorizing every curve. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled you closer until your foreheads brushed. The words you had just spoken unlocked something inside him as he planted a kiss on your lips. Deeply. Urgently. 

As though he could pour every unspoken word into that one moment. Each tremble of his lips carried years of guilt, longing, and all the times he had failed to choose you above his shame. Each press of his mouth felt like he was trying to rewrite every moment where he had let fear win over his heart. When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, your breaths came in ragged bursts. His voice was low, broken, intimate.

“I should’ve done that for all those nights I almost did.”

A shiver ran through you at his confession, at the honesty in it. His hands stayed on your face, holding you with reverence. Then he kissed you again; softer this time, tender, almost worshipful, reverent. Your skin tingled as goosebumps formed with each kiss, it had been long since you were last touched intimately.

You pressed your hands against his chest, pulling him inside before the door could even close. He obeyed instantly, letting the door click shut behind him where the world outside disappeared. The air between you was thick with want and relief, tension melting into need. Clothes became casualties in your orbit, falling like petals to the floor. His coat, your blouse, and each discarded garment shed every fear, restraint, along the years of hesitation. Your fingers trembled from nerves and the lack of intimacy, but also the overpowering raw, desperate desires to feel his skin against yours, to finally exist together without tiptoeing.

Kusakabe’s hands roamed to every part of your skin that he refused to leave untouched, memorising your sacred body heat in his arms, softly talking through you despite his body language speaking to you in ways you whimpered aloud.

In that room, with clothes scattered to reveal confessions on the floor, the space between you disappeared. Only the heat, breath, and the undeniable truths finally were allowed to burn bright.

a/n: kusakabe atsuya love plsssss, this type of story has been lingering in my mind lately and to me, it just fits the angst when it's kusakabe who would look after you. i just lurveee this underrated silly old man

[sacred-ahhh]

My lawyer is so sexy that it hurts so much. He’s beautiful, magnificent, gentleman, my beloved, my everything. Seeing him now is like I’m facing biblical greed, I’ve waited so long for you.

[sacred-ahhh]

I’ve been trying to write about Higuruma so badly but I am so in love with him so badly ever since his manga debut, I’ve been procrastinating the fic by writing Kusakabe instead

[sacred-ahhh]

the man before the king of curses: series

synopsis: before the king of curses, there was sukuna, the human who never knew the existence of love nor understood what softness humanity could hold. when he met you, he learned how a person could be his weakness but could forcibly become the sacrifice of leaving humanity behind for the golden age of jujutsu contains: kinda sfw, romance with tension, heian era, mentions of parental neglect and abuse, violence, trueform!Sukuna, spoiler alert you do have to die so that the plot of Jujutsu Kaisen can take place

The stories would tell the tale of a monster, a demon, or a cursed spirit that emerged from wild fire and ashes of homes he caused destruction upon. The undefeated being, Ryomen Sukuna, that was locked away for centuries, heavily feared he would be reborn again that the words of his existence morphed into warnings to children who crept past the night, a terrifying legend in the modern jujutsu world that shambled cities into oblivion.

Beyond those tales, there was an untold story that only the soft breeze by the creek remembered, beneath the weeping willow tree near the flowing river, where two souls were destined for each other. The times nature remembered Ryomen Sukuna as a human before his deadly reign.

1. beneath the willow tree

2. cherry blossoms of the river

3. the fire's life cycle

Bonus:

the realm beyond the king's reign

the man after the king of curses

[sacred-ahhh]

the man after the king of curses

synopsis: sukuna chooses the path of love (the optional happy ending HAHA) part of the man before the king of curses series contains: sfw, romance, the deserved fluff we needed, modern!Sukuna, reincarnation, kinda out of character, Uraume is your child btw, modern au word count: 3.5k

The night air was chilly on the streets, quiet under a full moon as a pair of figures walked through the city, their arms full of groceries after leaving the nearest grocery store to their home. An affectionate, bickering couple who strolled down the streets, walking longer than necessary despite one’s current disdain of this particular evening. One was cursing and shivering in a long coat that still wasn’t enough to keep the shivers down, a hand woven with a tall man whose only warm layer was a large thick hoodie, naturally warm like he was built for the cold nights though he was still heated especially after his day working in construction.

“I knew we should’ve taken a taxi, it’s too cold out here plus you just got back from work,” you chided, adjusting your grip of grocery bags on the other hand while you held his hand tight. Still childishly grumbling at him for refusing your suggestion.

“I don’t mind the walk.” Sukuna replied softly, snatching your bags, “I like this, plus it does us good to be on our own for once without having Uraume with us.”

"Yeah, but Uraume is waiting for us and they haven't eaten dinner yet," you pouted, siding closer next to Sukuna as you wondered about the warm meals you could whip up for Uraume and Sukuna. Pondering to the sky if it was a night for quick stir fries, a hearty sweet katsu curry, hot soups or broths to melt the harsh coldness of the winter, while Sukuna rolled his eyes mockingly with a small smile tugging his lips. Your body pressed closer against his side like a touch of sunlight that warmed the air even on the coldest winters. To this very present, he still felt as though you were the truest blessing in his life, his granted grace that was beyond than the tied knots you both made.

"You're too soft," he jeered, "You spoil them."

Your lips thinned and deepened at his accusation. "There's a difference between spoiling someone and showing them you care," you replied, voice slightly muffled as you rubbed your chilled nose against his shoulder. “I care about our kid.”

"Spoiling is spoiling," he pointed out as he raised a brow, eyeing you with quiet amusement.

"You've been bringing Uraume every single meal, every day as if they can't get their own."

You lifted your head, looking at him indignantly, "Ume is still young, they're only eighteen."

"Ume is more grown than you give them credit for."

You huffed, but there was a spark of laughter in your eyes when you looked away stubbornly. "Ume is still my baby."

"And you're babying them, they'll get complacent if you don't stop." he said bluntly, lifting your cold hand to huff his hot breath, pressing your cold hand to his cheek.

You lifted your chin defiantly, "You know you're one to talk. You're as fond of them as I am, that’s your kid that you chose to take in."

You were as stubborn as you were gentle, loving and patient above all. Even when you both were young and freshly married, he came to you with a child by his side one day during the coldest winter, an unfamiliar child or bearing no absolute resemblance to him. A child that probably was around eight years old, who didn’t know their place in the world.

It was absurd initially. When you both barely had savings and struggled to get by as a young couple living in a small apartment with a broken heater, yet you welcomed the child with safe loving arms that protected them from the harsh reality. Sukuna took them in, you insisted that they should stay, and they grew to become part of your family. It was unexplainable but your intuition knew it was meant to be.

Sukuna rolled his eyes at that, knowing there was no use arguing as he placed the interlocked hands to the front pocket of his hoodie.

"Fond of them doesn't mean I cater to every need," he replied dryly. "I'm teaching them responsibility and it’s time for Uraume to do so."

You smirked up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. "By making them run errands for you, they’ve become your servant."

"It builds character."

"It builds resentment."

"They're not going to suffer just because they have to do errands and chores," he countered, he was beginning to feel that you were playing favourites at this point. He glanced at you, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Not like you’re any better either, they're your personal assistant, you make them braid your hair every morning."

You gasped, eyes widening in mock offense. Arguing back justifications to your husband that Uraume simply enjoyed pampering you as Sukuna asserted his claim that you indeed enjoyed having a ‘servant’. All of that escalated into the laughter that echoed in the space, sharing the flashbacks of Uraume when they started a new school and how they had separation anxiety on the first until the third day, finding every excuse to go home while dreading school. Then, you were bickering about how he unnecessarily threatened a child, a parent and a teacher because that child was picking on Uraume, albeit it was you who laid hands on that child’s mother for her audacity to yell at Uraume’s self defence. 

There was no other person you would want to share your life with other than Sukuna. Though you were against all odds that stacked beneath your favour, you survived raising a Uraume because Sukuna was your anchor. He built your home, supported you, honoured you and held you to the highest regard.

As the flakes of snow started sprinkling in the air as the couple watched the night blue sky as they strolled back to their suburban home. Their hands intertwined tightly, afraid that the world would end if they separated. It was a moment of silence in the air, a pure moment of joy along with love for the man beside you and the family you built with him. Your mind lingered a secret and you were ready to break it.

"Uraume will always be my first baby, even when there will be another baby coming too," you softly spoke to him.

And he halted.

A chill, a small shiver that tingled his nerves.

Facing him, nervous as you held your stomach, fully trusting the love and connection you had since you first met him to this present. "Sukuna… I'm pregnant."

The world seemed to stop as the words reached his ears, like he'd lost his grip on time itself. Sukuna froze, the bags of groceries forgotten in his hands as he stared at you, the thud spoke loudly but softly. All of his attention laid onto you; your breaths, your hopeful smile, your dazzling eyes and the silence of what you presented him.

Pregnant, meaning a new life formed within your own body. His and yours, a creation made by the very blessing that came into his life. The word echoed like a dream—distant and surreal. He couldn’t tell why but he felt as though he had waited a lifetime for a moment like this.

His legend as the King of Curses remained after centuries that remembered his name, his warfare against powerful clans, and his terror as the only sole being that gave the world a reckoning. Living and breathing in the modern times that still trembled in fear of his name had almost brought pleasure. 

Only that he had to live in the human body, a vessel that became a constant reminder to him as the man he never was by his society, living in the kindness surrounded by it. There was an emptiness underneath it all.

Surrounded by the fires and rubble of Shibuya, as much joy it had brought him to crack the mental capacity of Itadori Yuji, watching it unfold was merely a simulation to Ryomen Sukuna. A loneliness that came from being the strongest sorcerer in history.

Within the realm of souls, infinite darkness and isolation where one may endure, one would be fortunate to find souls. One would be fortuitous to have a companion by their side in the vast space, Sukuna did not dare to let the small child leave his side too. Softness was never foreign between Sukuna and Uraume, where Uraume learnt to control their abilities that kept the ground unfrozen by Sukuna’s side, where Sukuna shared tales and guidance before his reign on the land. The child stuck by with their master, reflecting on their life with Ryomen Sukuna, recalling words or moments that truly represented his vulnerable moments.

“I once loved someone and I can tell you, love distracts you.”

Uraume listened carefully to their master, sitting on their knees after they watched him down his bottle of wine and stuffing down his feast. A rare occasion that Sukuna would request stewed rabbits and fermented vegetables rather than the large bowl of rice and flash frozen human flesh, not that Uraume would defy their master’s orders or question him. They’ve learnt to follow him along, obeyed his commands, and remained loyal to him by his side up until their current age. Sukuna’s youngest servant knew better to stay silent.

After tasting the last drop of berry wine, Sukuna stared at the dish presented to him, lamented briefly before he finally touched the stewed dish, grabbing the animal’s leg and chewing its tender meat off the bone. After a few bites, Uraume paid closer attention to their master, awaiting for his critic after noticing how he was evaluating its taste, following a bite of fermented cabbage.

A moment of silence.

“Rabbit meat tastes terrible, I don’t want it anymore. Go eat it, or throw it away, I don’t care. I would like to be alone.” He flickered his hand wearily.

“Of course master, I’ll take it away.” Uraume bowed, left the room before capturing a glimpse of their master playing with the rabbit’s bone, expressionless but deeply observing it.

Uraume never questioned or dared to point it out, leaving the room with nerve provoking thoughts of their cooking abilities. Uraume cooked the meal as per requested as their master intended, never straying from Sukuna’s demands nor did it ever taste out of the ordinary. They tasted the meat itself, grew partially annoyed afterwards from realising that their master wasted their energy and time. All those days of foraging peculiar herbs and hunting wild rabbits, only to be devoured ungratefully in only a couple of minutes by their master, at least Uraume had the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of their labour, begrudgingly.

That moment reflected to Uraume as he stared at their master, walking north in spite of not knowing where the destination was. Who Sukuna was in this abyss revealed to Uraume as the person he always was underneath:

A broken being.

Perhaps, he indeed needed to take a different path. It could be that wandering directionless in the darkness would lead Sukuna where he needed to be, a forgotten perspective that Itadori Yuji reminded Sukuna where he could be. Choosing the path of love.

A faint light appeared in the distance to the east—a single flicker at first, like a star that had fallen to earth. It grew, spreading in every direction like a ripple across the dark. It was warm, comforting, with a certain river breeze.

Uraume sensed it, the sudden shift in the stagnant realm, perplexed at what they were facing.

On the other hand, Sukuna simply stood there, eyes locked on the widening light as he melted into a man who had waited his entire existence.

The familiar breeze of the forest that carried the flowing sound of the river, the same blossomed tree that he knew from centuries ago glowing on the same path, and you wearing the same traditional white wedding kimono standing underneath it as you gazed above the cherry blossoms. You stood under that same tree, bathed in soft light, untouched by time or flame.

Uraume was skeptical, they didn’t recognise the figure but their master was stunned, his shoulders softened and relaxed for the longest time they have remembered.

“Sukuna-sama?” Uraume asked. They heard your voice and they understood what it all meant to him.

“Sukuna,” you called, the same sweet voice he remembered it to be, cheerful even after cruelty struck on you. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

He couldn’t move. Not because he was afraid but because, for the first time in centuries—he felt his heart beat and shattered. The fire that consumed you haunted every memory of you, your face blurred with the blazing flames in every recollection he had. Not being able to recognise the person you were underneath the fire broke him.

This was not a memory.

Not a dream.

This was you, wearing the same white kimono that promised your union, devoted to him even after you left him on earth. Your smile was as affectionate as it had been from the day he proposed to you by this very riverbank, and remained in the same place where he burnt you.

Sukuna took his steps forward then stopped, fists clenching at his sides as if to keep himself from breaking completely.

"You are a fool for waiting." His voice was raw, cracked from centuries of silence and scorn. "After what I let happen? After I failed to protect you?"

You stepped towards him slowly, no fear and only love, a sensation that grew too foreign for centuries.

"I waited for us." You whispered gently.

The fire that had taken everything, the fire he surrounded himself in his heart, all the rage and wrath whistled as the Ryomen Sukuna dropped to his knees. Not as defeat, but his surrender to hope, to grace, to you.

He finally saw you, all the shared moments were no longer blurred, remembering you and not what used to be the idea of you. Under the ancient weeping willow tree, in a place between life and death, two hands finally reached for each other once more, neither letting go.

“I waited until you could find me and choose me, I want to love you again in our next life and forever more, ” you kneeling down to embrace him. You, the person who held all of the love and humanity from Sukuna Ryomen, the man before the King of Curses. Your heart was overwhelmed, too surreal in this reunion as tears were seeping in happiness,  after all this time that you were waiting in the dark for your lover to just look in your way, “Will you love once more?”

The moment you touched him, something ancient and broken within Sukuna stirred. The quiet, human part of him that had died on the day you were burned in the temple, left it with you when you became one with the earth; his heart resurfaced by your arms around him. Your embrace was stable, real, unforgiving in their gentleness.

And for once, he didn’t fight it. He leaned into you in his unsteady breath, hands trembling as they slowly rose to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer after being drowned by his truth.

"Of course, you would have," he murmured again, voice rough with disbelief. "You are an idiot."

A soft laugh escaped yours against his shoulder. He closed his eyes, glistening after the centuries of rage, loneliness, his ruling through blood and flame—all collapsed beneath the weight of this one real truth:

You still loved him.

Even after everything, waiting in the abyss, you still chose him. In spite of not being able to cling onto your existence, you returned to him unconditionally because he was your love. Knowing where his fate would lie in the afterlife, you would rather wait in the darkness for his reciprocation, or be dragged into the deepest pits of hell; anything if it meant to be reborned with Ryomen Sukuna.

So when he finally lifted his head, red eyes glistening under spirit-light, he didn’t speak with curses, pride or fire. He spoke as a man who had finally come home.

"Again," he whispered fiercely, thumb brushing away your tears before pressing their foreheads together. "We go again into the next life."

"And this time…" He continued, his voice dropped low, not like thunder now but the vow that etched into eternity. "I will love you, I will choose you first above all."

Where time meant nothing for souls that knew no end, a cursed king made a new promise:

To spend every life hereafter, not in destruction but in devotion to you, only you.

Love hadn't weakened him, it was what brought him back to the time where his heart could beat once more. You, the pure human being who reached out to him and extended it even to the child as cold as frost. With love that was soft and resolute, mending every scar into souls, welcoming with warmth spreading from that single touch crawling into frozen veins – where they didn’t feel like an echo of darkness, but felt a sense of belonging.

Wherever all of them would go, whether to atone the sins or reincarnate in the next life, love will follow them for it remains to outlive all.

His hand slowly lifted, hovering just above your stomach as if he was afraid to touch.

"You're pregnant…" His voice was a broken whisper, eyes wide with disbelief. "... You're serious?”

You nodded, voice shaking when you confessed, whipping your phone out to show a photo of the recent pregnancy test. "I can take another test.” 

His fingers trembled as he looked at the photo, heart pounding so hard he was sure it would burst. He was going to be a father. The realization sent a wave of emotion coursing through him like wildfire—fear, love, joy, excitement, wonder—all mixing together until he could barely think straight.

A thousand thoughts and a thousand doubts but before any of those fears could claim the moment, Sukuna wrapped his arms around you. Tightly, gratefully, tenderly, afraid that this was a dream yet your touch proved that this was meant to be real. He had vivid dreams for this, yearning for when you could conceive at the right time, when you believed you were ready.

"'Kuna, you've gotten too soft with me," you giggled and sniffled, reciprocating the suffocating bear hug with your arms pulling him tighter. He buried his face in your neck, breathing the scent of floral and home lingering in your skin. You didn’t want to say aloud, you felt his small waterworks on your shoulder.

"You made me soft, idiot." He murmured, voice thick with emotion. "Don't blame me for what you created."

You laughed again as it transitioned to softer sobs, the sound like wind chimes in a rainy spring. Your fingers dug on his skin as you both held each other closer, uncaring of the cold night and groceries that slipped out on the concrete. This overwhelming happiness, not just that you were bearing his child, but that he was worthy of one. This life, this love, this quiet happiness under falling snow, the soon heartbeat in your stomach, was something he could protect.

So when he finally pulled back, eyes glistening with something unspoken, he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered:

"... Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?" you murmured, resting a hand over his heart—feeling the steady beat beneath your fingers. There was something different about Sukuna tonight, like a piece of him that he'd always kept guarded, had finally let go. As if this present world would no longer be cruel to him anymore.

He gazed at you, that adoring smile with the dimples on his cheeks and his teasing held behind his tongue. It made your heart swell more than you thought possible. The way he always sees you that ingrained a print in your head, caressing your cheek as he planted his lips against yours, deepening his kiss that was laced with devotion; this was his answer to you.

When your lips unlocked, he gently grasped your wrist, thumb tracing small spirals over your pulse. "You're not afraid I'll mess this up?"

You met his gaze evenly, your own unwavering belief still stood strong. "What kind of question is that? Of course not, you're a good dad to Uraume, you'll be a good one to our child too."

The words felt like a balm to his soul, you saw a future in him that he could live up to. He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, the gesture so gentle to you, you wondered if you broke your husband too much.

"I'd protect you with everything," he whispered fiercely, "Everything, I swear it."

A smile tugged at your lips:

"I never doubted that."

You urged Sukuna to head back home so that you could share the news with Uraume. And he sneered at the idea of rushing back home just to cater to the fully capable teenager, especially when you literally just announced the biggest life-changing news. Nevertheless, he picked up the groceries, grabbed your hand, dragged you along briskly and complained about your timing while you bantered back at his sudden impatience. The night was quiet, only carrying the sounds of your footsteps with Sukuna as they carried a new weight in their present lives– a weight that carried a long-awaited reward of two reincarnated souls who loved and chose each other in every lifetime.

a/n: listening to televangelism by ethel cain was the main inspo of the reunion. ahh i love soft sukuna, this was on hold for a while since my job has been stressing me out. but after the angsts i've written, i think we should deserve a happy ending (hopefully a good one, i fear this fic isn't my best)

[sacred-ahhh]

If anyone is asking, I’m currently deceased because my man has finally been animated. He’s so beautiful…

[sacred-ahhh]

I have the fattest crush with Higuruma Hiromi that I can't even write reader inserts about him cause I get embarrassed. I love him too muchhhhh

[sacred-ahhh]

the man before the king of curses: series

synopsis: before the king of curses, there was sukuna, the human who never knew the existence of love nor understood what softness humanity could hold. when he met you, he learned how a person could be his weakness but could forcibly become the sacrifice of leaving humanity behind for the golden age of jujutsu contains: kinda sfw, romance with tension, heian era, mentions of parental neglect and abuse, violence, trueform!Sukuna, spoiler alert you do have to die so that the plot of Jujutsu Kaisen can take place

The stories would tell the tale of a monster, a demon, or a cursed spirit that emerged from wild fire and ashes of homes he caused destruction upon. The undefeated being, Ryomen Sukuna, that was locked away for centuries, heavily feared he would be reborn again that the words of his existence morphed into warnings to children who crept past the night, a terrifying legend in the modern jujutsu world that shambled cities into oblivion.

Beyond those tales, there was an untold story that only the soft breeze by the creek remembered, beneath the weeping willow tree near the flowing river, where two souls were destined for each other. The times nature remembered Ryomen Sukuna as a human before his deadly reign.

1. beneath the willow tree

2. cherry blossoms of the river

3. the fire's life cycle

Side story:

the realm beyond the king's reign

[sacred-ahhh]

the realm beyond the king's reign

synopsis: your perspective after your death and your decision to love ryomen sukuna, the man and the king of curses. part of the man before the king of curses series contains: sfw, religion word count: 1.1k

His words echoed repeatedly, a confession from his soul to yours that followed you after the flames that took your life.

“I love you.”

Grace was given when you entered from the flash of fire into an abyss. You remembered when your skin scorched in a second but the sensation that came was the breeze similar to the riverbank by the forest. Blaze blinded your eyes then all you could see was darkness, you couldn’t see your own body but you could feel your body with a chest that did not beat within. Your mouth yelled but your voice never projected in the realm, only it remained in your mind. 

“I love you.”

When your voice was not heard in the shadows, you could only advance forward. Exhaustion was nonexistent because as you walked in the realm, the memories of your life recollected as passing events. From when you first took your breath with your parents who hovered and cooed you, when you were raised in the farmhouse that were desperate to survive, when you came to the forest where you encountered him and what came afterwards.

Ryomen Sukuna, your beloved, was now left alone in the world. And you, alone in the realm of souls.

“I love you.”

Gods were surmounting beings that behaved past human comprehension. They crafted humans and souls from the earth and dimension, purity and chaos that blended among their creations. They gifted nature that provided humanity’s survival, emotions for mental fulfillment, and the search of purpose in the world of their creation. They created free beings for their worship and they created you.

You who worshipped the Gods, prayed in every wake of your struggle and gratitude, including moments you doubted the way of life or became a temporary disbeliever. That was your way of life, your constant hope created the Cursed One who prayed for the Gods’ mercy to you. In spite of his existence, being the human creation of a curse that was nurtured by a cruel society, he was your blessing. In his nobility, he gave clemency in that cruel world by binding you to the holiest act of communion, the act of marriage, the fulfilment of a high blessing you held regard to.

Gods’ most hypocritical follower willingly committed the highest deed for you and your honor. 

Yet in his holiest act of devotion, it seemed that the Gods had denied it for you could not escape your blood. Your fate showed him that it did not erase away his truth.

“I love you.”

Gods were not their creations; they may acknowledge what love brought upon in your world but they could never feel what it meant to be truly loved by him.

You wished you could share stories or write texts about the curse of love. Declare to the Gods that it was beautiful to love, it was precious to be loved.

Love that binds souls, love that curses souls; you who loved the cursed soul and he who loved you.

Such a wonderful thing to be loved by him. Such a tragedy to be punished by love.

“I love you.”

You heard calls of your name as you ran towards the direction ahead of you, to the familiar figures that illuminated the dark, to the voices that broke your thoughts.

“Mama! Papa!” You gasped, hoarse after finally being able to speak.

You could see your parents sprinting towards you, desperate. Rushing until you felt the tight arms of your mother who wept endlessly, followed by another embrace by your father. Heads buried each other, their warmth protected you from the cold dark realm, you could finally gain your sense of touch in this space as you cried aloud. Confession after confession of the sins your father carried and the regrets your mother wished she had done, you didn’t care to articulate the words they say. You only cared that you got to hold your parents.

“Papa has failed you, I have failed in every way so please child, live in the next life to your best life.” Your father sobbed.

“The Gods have promised that you will live a bountiful life in the next life, you must go to the light now and live.” Your mother begged.

“Let us lead you.” They pulled away, held your hands to guide you to the path of reincarnation. Quickly as they could, pulling you where you belonged.

They attempted to drag you to the path of light but you pulled your hands away and you sensed hearts shattered, yours and theirs.

When they looked into your eyes, they knew instantly. As they called your name softly, cracked, they clung around you tightly. For as long as they could where you clutched onto every bit of warmth until their bodies dematerialised and fell under you, when their presence was none left lingering in the air. 

In truth, your fate was sealed when you entered the realm because love was like your mother who willingly followed behind your father’s punishment in the hellfire.

Your ashes permeated the soil beneath the willow tree, your body became one with the earth, your soul had been transported but the love never ceased. Sharing the memories with nature because your body carried the softness he honoured, your soul brought forward the sanction he gave to the realm because you loved him as he did. You knew where you wanted to be.

“Maybe in another life, I’ll see you again. In another world, if this world wasn’t cruel and when the Gods will bless us.”

When the world claimed your ashes, he rose with a new birth, a new reign and new perspective. No longer he had the love that binds, no reason to suppress what he had been born into this world for Ryomen Sukuna rejected his humanity. In the fires he created, there was beauty in the chaos. Finding solace in the blaze and destruction of regions, empowered by the strong pride that brought him when societies trembled in his presence. He only listened to what his body willed, ate what he craved, sought for more power and knowledge of what his body could do, and lusted by his own capabilities of brutality to all living creatures that could entertain him.

Your body in the earth watched him and memorised him, feeling the devastation he inflicted to nature and mankind; not in sorrows, but in patience. 

Your soul resided in isolation, you refused to be reborn, awaiting for the time when he made his return to the path of love. Even in the moments he craved the violence that became his living truth, when he may pass in this realm without searching for you, or even see you beyond his wrath, you will stand where you are.

Whether it means to remain in the abyss for centuries, love that binds the soul would never cease or pass by. Not until he chooses you once more.

a/n: this is shorter than my usual works cause i was listening to punish and housofpsychoticwomn by ethel cain and i thought 'hmm i'm so inspired by this, i wanna write this but not too long cause no more emotional damage pls for me lol'