Currently writing for JJK men. However, there are plans to write for other fandoms eventually. Some of the fics I write may have darker or taboo themes. I am an adult writing for adult characters — my work is suitable for adult audiences only. All long-fics and mini-series will contain smut. Please read the tags for each fic. I’m still new to writing, and learning as I go along. Thank you for checking out my work <3
Most of my work can also be found on ao3 here. Drabbles are Tumblr only.
sanguine chapter twenty will come significantly faster than nineteen did. ever since i first began this fic, chapter twenty is the one single chapter that i have wanted to write more than anything. everything is planned out and there’s no room for deviation like i normally give myself during my writing process. also little bits and pieces are already written out. chapter twenty-one will be released after that and then likely i’ll drop chapter three of sweetest sin.
CW: Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Male Masturbation
Series Masterlist
Early morning sun peeked through the shoji doors in your room and softly pulled you from your slumber. Eyes fluttering open, your vision adjusted to the light filtering in, and you rolled over, tugging the plush blanket that lay atop you with one of your hands.
A quiet yawn tumbled from your lips as you cast your gaze downward, eyes settling on the blue silk-wrapped scabbard your fingers desperately clutched onto. The ghost of a smile overtook your lips as the corners tugged up slightly.
One down and only three more to go.
Once all four were acquired, you would be free of the never-ending hell you had been subjected to the past few weeks, and Sukuna would be nothing more than an unpleasant memory.
Sukuna.
Your eyes widened, fingers curling tightly around Suiryu as you glanced around wildly. Your travel companion was nowhere to be found. He never strayed far from you, yet now you could not even sense his presence. The only thing you felt now was the weapon in your grip.
“Sukuna?” Your voice was meek as you called out, scrambling to stand and immediately heading towards the hallway.
You rounded the corner, bare feet slapping against the wooden floor as you picked up your pace. Where the hell was he?
“Sukuna?” You called out again, this time your voice a bit louder, head turning from side to side as the hallway interjected with another.
The kitchen. Maybe he’s in the kitchen.
You began to move once more, this time heading desperately towards the familiar doors. It wasn’t long until a flash of something in your periphery caught your full attention. A shadow, moving against the walls.
The way you moved was instinctive. Not a single thought was needed to compel you forward as you held your breath and slipped the scabbard from the tantō, allowing it to clatter beneath your feet as you swung around, the blade fully exposed.
In that split second, you realized it was not another shadow you were facing but a pair of seemingly human eyes. Dark pink and widened in fear, you recognized to whom they belonged, and if it weren’t for a hand, much larger than your own, wrapping itself around your wrist, the blade would’ve made devastating contact.
Uraume backed up instantaneously, and if you weren’t in such a frightened daze, you likely would’ve been more confused about why they had returned. Rather, you settled your eyes on the hand that still gripped you and followed it upwards until you were met with the man who was pulling you back into him, a grin making itself comfortable across his face.
“I didn’t imagine you would miss me so terribly already.” Another hand accompanied his mocking tone, slithering its way to your opposite shoulder as Sukuna’s eyes settled on the shadow that had originally spooked you, a look of knowing moving across his face for a moment.
“The girl is paranoid. Do try to announce your presence next time,” he stated plainly, now focused on Uraume.
“My apologies, master.” They dipped their head low before scurrying off in the direction in which you were originally headed.
“And you—“ The hand on your shoulder inched upwards slowly, gently rubbing against the base of your neck, prompting a chill to crawl up your spine at the sudden touch. “Need to mind your surroundings. I’d rather not have to peel my subordinate’s lifeless body from the floor this morning.”
“Why is Uraume back?”
His grin managed to double at the inquiry, and all four of his eyes lit up in a way you had never seen. “We have much to discuss. Come.”
For the first time since your meeting, you felt as if you were witnessing something akin to genuine happiness radiating from him. If the way he stroked your sensitive flesh didn’t make you recoil, the prospect of him feeling joy sure as hell did.
The sound of skin colliding with skin rang out as you slapped his hand away from you, backing up against the wall and away from him.
“Why are you in a good mood?”
Sukuna just sighed. “Would you rather I be in a foul one?”
“It’s far more fitting.”
“You were just running around in a frenzy calling out for me, and now you can’t even stand next to me. Your moods are as unpredictable as ever.”
He stepped towards you, reaching down to grab the scabbard you had let fall. “And to answer your question, Uraume brought news with them. One that I believe will solve the problems we’ve been having with those numbered curses.”
Your body stiffened as your pulse picked up slightly. “What? You found out something?”
“Not just something,” he practically purred as he slipped the tantō from your hand, sheathing it carefully before sliding it into the waist of your yukata. “I know where they are.”
An arm wrapped around you, ushering you down the hallway. “Come and we will discuss this over a meal.”
You didn’t resist in the slightest. Instead, you practically leaned into him as you continued forward and soon over the threshold into the kitchen.
Sounds of sizzling and metal clanking against metal could be heard as Uraume was angled over the stove, hard at work, undoubtedly prepping something in hopes to satiate Sukuna’s never-ending appetite. They glanced back at you, staring as if you were the monster in the room and not the hulking man at your side.
“Make her a plate too,” Sukuna demanded as he turned, leaning against the kitchen island.
“Don’t bother,” you tossed over your shoulder as you followed him.
“I told you, we’re having a meal.”
“You can have a meal; I’ll stand here and listen.”
“She’s eating,” he stated, eyes slipping past you and over to Uraume briefly before moving back to yours. “You don’t trust them to prepare your food.”
Your face fell into a scowl, prompting a smirk to form on his. From the moment you met, he’s always been able to read you like a book, and you’ve hated every second of it.
“Can you blame me? The vow we share covers you not harming me. It says nothing of your little friend.”
Steam wafted upwards in tendrils as a plate of the pork belly was slid in front of you. With no fluffy white grains underneath or so much as a pickled radish to accompany it, the meat stood alone.
“Certainly you know how valuable you are to me. Anyone who threatens that will pay a dreadful price, whether they’re a subordinate of mine or not.”
You suppose he did have a point.
You popped a piece in your mouth, chewing lightly before giving it a swallow. It was tender, the fat melting into your senses like butter. Very lightly seasoned, though to be expected given the era in which they originated from.
A dish was set in front of Sukuna, one with a portion roughly four times the size of yours, and with a polite bow of the head, Uraume was gone.
“So what—“
Your question was cut short as he reached forward, setting what appeared to be some sort of rock on the counter between you. The second his hand removed itself, the item began to jump and move wildly. It was a cursed tool of some kind, that much was certain. The energy that surrounded it flooded out the moment Sukuna was no longer able to mask it.
For just a moment, you froze, but of course he caught the way you stilled. He always did.
“Do you know what this is?”
“No.” You reached forward, grabbing onto it before it could tumble onto the floor. Fingers wrapping around it, you traced the rough, pointed edges. With a closer look, you could tell it wasn’t a rock, but rather a piece forged from iron. “Well, maybe. I honestly don’t know.”
The cursed energy it emitted felt vaguely familiar as it intertwined with your own. You couldn’t exactly place why. It was as if it were some sort of memory or dream, blurred around the edges, just out of reach no matter how hard you tried to remember it.
“However, it feels as if I should.”
“A cursed spirit by the name of Juu-ni provided it to Uraume and instructed them to give it to me. The direction in which it pulls will lead us straight to him.”
Juu-ni.
Twelve.
The thought alone made your stomach churn.
“And why would he do that?” Your fingers twirled the chunk of metal around as you continued to study it.
“He wants me to bring you to him. Why any of those curses want you is still a mystery, but he proposed a trade. Says he possesses one of the weapons we seek.”
Your eyes shot up to him instantly. “Are you kidding me?”
“Do you find me to be the humorous type?”
Your hands clenched fully around the cursed tool and felt as it pushed against your skin, pointing in the same direction as it had just moments prior. “How do they even know about them, let alone actually have one?”
Sukuna just shrugged, slipping a chunk of the pork between his lips. He responded between lazy chews, “Not sure. Perhaps they’ve known about them this entire time, and that’s why they’ve been targeting you. Maybe you piqued their interest in another form and they only know about the weapons due to following you, and this is nothing more than a trap to lure you out. Don’t know and honestly don’t care.”
“Did they say which one they had?”
“No.”
You pushed your own plate forward, appetite quickly diminishing, and your gaze lowered to the tantō tucked snugly in your waist. Absentmindedly, your free hand grazed the silk wrappings lightly.
Thoughts of blueish-grey flesh and a cold, detached voice, one that you wish so desperately you could forget, came back to you. The way he had uttered that he was not born from hatred the way most curses were. Rather, he was at one point a human himself.
That fact never sat well with you, and you could push it off all you’d like, allowing yourself to be distracted by your mission, but whether you complete it or not was irrelevant, because when everything was all said and done, you still had to deal with them.
There were supposedly ten remaining, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance against them. Though for someone like Sukuna, the task would be little more than an inconvenience. Where you struggled and fought desperately for your life against Roku and Go, he had remedied the situation within an instant.
They knew how powerful he was and steered clear of him at every possible turn. And now instead of trying to separate the two of you, they appeared to be attempting to recruit him as an ally.
Whether they had the weapon or not, you needed to grab hold of the opportunity and rid yourself of them once and for all. Sukuna needed you alive and had made it clear multiple times over he’d make sure you stayed that way. He wouldn’t think twice about exorcising them if you were in danger. With them willing to meet him face-to-face, the situation could work out in your favor. He could hopefully finish them all off at one time.
“Can we go?”
“You’re more willing than I expected.”
“I’m not sure I fully believe they have one of the weapons yet, but I do know they’ve been a thorn in our side.” You watched as he pushed his freshly emptied plate to the side with one of his lower arms before using the other to reach for your half-eaten one. “And if we take care of them now, we can get back to the objective at hand, and probably significantly quicker.”
He hummed plainly in response, offering up nothing of value while he gorged himself on your leftovers.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to leave today.”
He repeated the noise, paying you little mind, but you took the answer as an agreement.
“I’ll go ready myself. Once you’ve finished we can head out.” You turned on your heel, moving to head back to your room, though you paused in the doorway briefly. Turning back to look at him, you called out, “Hey, Sukuna.”
All four brilliant irises shot up to you.
“You’re not going to let them hurt me again, right?”
The words came out more like an admittance of something you had no desire to voice than an actual inquiry. Your tone was utterly pathetic, your eyes reflecting an emotion nearly indecipherable, though you knew he saw right through you. He always did.
“No.”
You nodded, believing him, and left.
————————————
The wind’s bite was bitter as it whipped around wildly, serving as a stark reminder that winter had yet to leave. Grey as far as the eye could see stretched overhead as a thick curtain of clouds covered the skies. Though he had no way to be certain, if Sukuna had to gamble, the threat of snowfall was imminent.
He glanced over to you, clad in a large, plush jacket, arms clutched tightly to your chest as a freshly lit cigarette dangled from your mouth.
The two of you left not long after your conversation and, after spending a few hours driving north, found yourselves in some remote mountain range. Your vehicle had taken the two of you as far as it could, and now you both stood partially up a mountain, the first of many in your shared path. He wasn’t quite sure how deep into them either of you would have to travel, though he did assume it would likely be an arduous journey for you considering the elements.
The piece of iron was wrapped tightly in one of his lower fists, attempting to guide him forward. Sukuna looked to you once more, and this time you returned his gaze. Your lips pressed into a thin, hard line while you attempted to hide your body’s involuntary shiver.
“Are you coming or not?”
You stared a moment longer, taking a deep inhale of the smoke before letting it waft out and be swept up by the roaring wind. A lame excuse of a smile took over your face, and you had that same sad look in your eyes. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
What a pitiful sight.
He stepped forward, off the worn concrete path and onto the dried, decaying grass, following the direction the cursed tool in his palm was guiding him. It wasn’t long until he heard a huff, and a lighter footfall joined. Angling his head to the side slightly, he watched through one of his lower eyes as you trailed him. Your gaze wandered between the rapidly burning cigarette you clutched tightly and the depressing sky above, but never settled on him.
Sukuna slowed, falling into a pace closer to you until you both walked side by side. Your fear was palpable, and you weren’t even trying to hide it anymore. Not that it would’ve mattered anyway. You could continue to dwell on those cursed spirits all you’d like.
While your sights were set far ahead on the monsters tucked away in the mountains, that lurked in the shadows, you failed to bear witness to the one who now walked beside you, arms just barely brushing. And that tipped the scales in his favor; it always had.
It was just as he had told you the evening prior: people fear what they cannot understand. You were no exception to that rule.
He could not fault you. You had suffered at the hands of those cursed spirits, and he could see why they were quite the unsettling bunch to someone not as strong as he. It was as if they were some sort of villain ripped from the pages of a storybook or an ancient folklore elders told the younger generations around a blazing fire on an especially dark and somber night. They had haunted you at every turn since that evening by the hot spring, whether you wanted to admit it or not.
The walk itself was largely silent, and grew increasingly difficult as the time passed. The landscape remained ever-changing through most of it. Between weaving through thick wooded areas and climbing up steep slopes, it was proving to be every bit as difficult as he had imagined.
Eventually the clouds above broke, allowing bright, alabaster tufts to fall. It began gradually, the soft snow slowly accumulating on the earth beneath, though as the hours slipped by, the snow grew far thicker and fell at an unprecedented pace.
You had begun to slow tremendously, and Sukuna, patient as ever, kept by your side the entire time. It would all be over soon, and he could not allow something as trivial as unsavory weather to come between him and what he desired.
He watched as your legs continued to sink deeper and deeper into the snow, your gait growing clumsy. Instinctively, one of his arms found its way to you, helping usher you forward, and though you’d never voice it, he could see you were thankful.
Looking up to the sky, he stared at the dark pools of clouds. They wouldn’t last forever, this much he knew, but they showed no sign of stopping for the time being. The two of you had made decent progress considering the conditions. He needed to seek out shelter for the remainder of the storm. You were no good to him frozen half to death.
It wasn’t long until he spotted an opening in a nearby rock formation, and with a gentle tug on your forearm, he was leading you straight to it. Luck was on his side, and the seemingly narrow opening widened into a shallow cave with plenty of room for two.
You pulled yourself from his grip, moving further inwards, away from the violent wind and piling snow. You tossed your bag to the side, then slid down against the rocky wall. Quick to bring your knees up, you allowed your chin to rest on them. It was no warmer, but you sought out the refuge regardless.
Sukuna squat down before you, fingertips sinking into your cheeks slightly. He let out a quiet huff, partially in amusement, partially in disbelief. It felt as if chunks of ice were under his touch, rather than actual human flesh.
“It must be a curse being so fragile.”
You just looked at him, with those same eyes, steeped in a melancholy the likes of which he probably hadn’t seen in over a millennia.
“I’ve never been fond of you ignoring me.” His voice was quieter than he intended for it to be. There was no anger, no malice, no demand. Just honesty. And it was perhaps some of the only honesty he’s ever shared with you.
“I have that feeling again. That dreadful, terrible feeling.” If his voice was quiet, yours was barely above a whisper. “They’re close by.”
“You were so eager to come earlier, but now you’re here and more frightened than ever.”
“It’s foolish, I know.” There was that lame smile of yours again. “I’m traveling with the strongest sorcerer to ever live, yet I’m so unnerved by those curses. I’m not even sure why I feel the way I do. Until recently, the night I met you actually, I never did.”
You reached one of your arms up, trailing against the nape of your neck and rubbing lightly against where that seal was unknowingly embedded deep in your skin.
“And now you wield one of the divine weapons. Something said to grant the power of a god, and you’re still acting like this. It’s beyond pathetic, even for you.”
He moved to the side of you, sitting against the wall in a similar fashion before glancing up to where you still blankly stared ahead.
“You need to rest.”
You nodded your head in agreement. “Probably.”
“Then lay down and close your goddamn eyes.”
Without another word, you followed his advice, scooting downwards without any protests or sharp retorts, and you turned on your side opposite to where he sat.
It grew quiet once more, though as the minutes began to blur, he could tell you were still fighting sleep. Sukuna resisted the urge to chastise you. Rather, he just let out an annoyed sigh, choosing to focus on the howling storm just feet away instead. The already darkened sky had begun to deepen as night approached when you finally broke the silence.
“It’s watching.”
He looked over to where you laid, curled up in the dirt, still as a statue.
His brows furrowed, a deep line settling between them as the corners of his lips began to dip downwards, contorting into the beginnings of a scowl. Before he could press you further, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of it. A shadow, standing not far off by the back wall, caught by the final shred of the day’s dying light. All it took was one glance from him, and it faded away.
Sukuna looked back to you, now propped up on an elbow, and just as the shadow dissipated, he watched as your entire body eased. Your face softened significantly as if a weight had been physically plucked from your shoulders.
How long had that shadow been trailing the two of you? Never once had he even noticed it, yet somehow you were conscious of it the entire time.
Though, he supposed it was all irrelevant anyway. No matter what fate awaited him come daybreak, those nuisances would be gone alongside it.
“One look from you was all it took for that thing to leave.” You laid back down, this time facing up at the ceiling, a hint of humor in your tone as you settled in.
“You did the exact same the first time we met.”
“Of course I did. It’s just as you said, being fragile is a curse.” You chose to roll over, then just a bit softer said, “I envy you.”
“And why’s that?”
“Your strength.”
Sukuna chuckled, giving you nothing more than the noncommittal noise as a response. He sat, fingers drumming against his own knee, occasionally looking over to where you lay. Though eventually, he found the want to say something more.
“You’re strong, remarkably so. You’ve just never properly utilized your technique. Though whether that’s your fault or another’s, I’m not sure.” His voice carried the sort of sincerity one would never expect to see come from him.
He wasn’t even sure where it came from himself, though he’d chalk it up to nothing more than a courtesy. It was likely your last night together, after all. But by the time he had let the words fall, you had long been asleep.
You were involuntarily curled in on yourself, arms wrapped tight as you attempted to keep warm. Though despite this, he knew your attempts were in vain, as occasionally your stillness would break with your body shivering ever so slightly.
A pitting feeling, one he did not know nor had any desire to explore, could be felt taking root deep in his viscera as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He could attempt to put a name to it, but it was all futile now. So instead he turned his head the opposite direction, slinking back against the rock, and let the cave walls hold whatever kindness he had offered to you. They would keep it, and with any luck, also the emotion that was threatening to claw its way up to his chest.
————————————
A warmth surrounded you on all sides. It was enticing and a vast deviation from the brutal cold you had endured not too long prior. Still half-asleep, your judgement was clouded, and you gave into the temptation of the heat. You leaned into it fully, nuzzling deeper into the feeling, but it wasn’t until your hand extended upwards, curling around another and instantly felt something shift beneath you that your eyes flew wide open and any sort of momentary comfort you felt was ripped from you.
Four red eyes, illuminated by a soft golden glow, bore down into yours, and it was then you realized the exact source of your warmth. You jumped back, scrambling to put any sort of distance between you and him as your body ached at the influx of freezing air that rushed around you.
Sukuna sat up fully, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Though judging by his silence, you imagined he was not pleased.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out. “I didn’t—“
He stared at you for a beat longer before bursting into laughter. It ripped from his chest, echoing throughout the small area, and you could feel the embarrassment already building beneath your cheeks as he began to mock you. You looked to the side, unable to gaze at him after what had just occurred, instead focusing on the small fire nestled by the entrance that you presumed he built while you slept.
“Idiot,” he hissed. “Do you think I’d let you burrow into my side like that if I didn’t want you there?”
“Oh, I—“
You saw movement in your periphery, but before you could fully turn your head to him, you were being yanked forcefully back to where you had just laid. You stiffened as two of his arms slotted beneath you and your face made contact with his bare shoulder, the edges of the haori he wore partially covering you as if it were some sort of makeshift blanket.
“The temperature dropped significantly once night fell and you were freezing. The fire on its own was not enough to warm you, and unfortunately this was the most efficient solution.”
“I can just—“
“Forget it. You’re staying right here until I’m sure your frail body won’t succumb to hypothermia.”
“I see your foul mood has returned.”
“And so has your argumentative one.”
For whatever reason, you had unintentionally angered him. And you had no desire to bicker with him at the current moment, so until you left this forsaken place, you’d just try to keep to yourself to the best of your abilities.
You balled your fist up tightly, holding it close to your chest, attempting to only touch him where absolutely necessary as a deep-set frown carved its way across your features.
“I don’t know why you’re acting like that. You’re the one who was just trying to hold my hand.”
Your eyes crawled up to meet two of his. “I wasn’t trying to hold your hand. I was just trying to warm mine.“
He huffed, rolling the eyes you could see before glancing away entirely. Silence overtook the atmosphere once more, though this time, you found yourself unable to sleep. Sukuna was just as tense as you were, and his body was equally as uncomfortable as the ground beneath you.
Eventually you gave up and sat forward, prying your jacket from your body. It was counterproductive temperature-wise, but you’d just have to rely on Sukuna’s body heat for that. He showed no intention of letting you move aside, and you’d be able to use the winter wear as a pillow.
He watched intently as you bunched it up, laid it atop where his arm met his shoulder and rolled back into him before helping yourself to his haori, pulling it far more snug around you in an attempt to cover up the parts of you which your tank top left exposed.
Your leg brushed against his, and suddenly he was moving as if you had harmed him.
“Are you comfortable yet, you damn brat?”
“No,” you sighed.
You pulled your leg in slightly, knee grazing against the outside of his thigh, and once more, he was pulling away from you. For someone forcing you to use him for warmth, he sure as hell couldn’t stand to have you so much as brush against him.
Your lips parted slightly, a yawn tumbling from them before you could stop it, which was hopefully a sign sleep would find you soon. Not even a second later, you felt his abdomen shift, and a yawn, one much louder and deeper, than your own could be heard.
With widened eyes, you sat up, staring at the open maw that stretched across his stomach before glancing up at him and back down to it again.
Once the brief shock wore off, you could feel the corners of your lips begin to turn upwards. He had witnessed you yawn, but it was not the mouth on his face that followed suit, rather his secondary one.
It was strange, and though you’d never admit it, almost endearing in a way.
Sukuna must have witnessed the gleam in your eyes because his voice was as sharp as a razor when he spoke. “Don’t.”
“It can yawn?”
“It’s a fucking mouth. Of course it can yawn.”
You really did fight the urge to suppress it, but the tiniest of giggles managed to escape you as your grin widened. Your hand flew up, attempting to catch more, but the giggles spilt over, eventually turning into genuine laughter.
He stared at you, and if he wasn’t mad enough before, he certainly was now. A familiar burn in the nape of your neck could be felt as his energy began to bubble up. You imagined he likened your behavior to you taunting him, despite that being far from the truth.
“You know—“
A hand reached out, wrapping around your wrist tightly, and it began tugging you forward. “Do you not recall what happened the last time you began to inquire about my maw?”
Your smile dropped instantly as your gaze fell downward, because of course you did. You remembered that night all too well, every last second of it. Neither of you had ever fully addressed it, and the only time the evening’s events were brought up was if Sukuna wanted to antagonize you.
“You know, you don’t have to be so cruel about it.”
“I haven’t been cruel about it.”
Your eyes immediately shot back to him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He just stared at you indifferently.
“The act in itself was cruel, Sukuna!” You hissed, trying to pull yourself from his grip, but he refused to budge and held you firm.
“I think your perception of cruelty is skewed, and you have done nothing but blow it out of proportion.”
“You waited until I was drunk and seduced me in hopes of getting information out of me.” You pulled against him again, this time shifting your body weight in hopes you could break the hold. “In what world is that not a shitty thing to do?”
In the end, his strength was still greater than yours, as you not only failed to escape his touch, but he also yanked you forward fully, causing you to topple onto him.
“I didn’t seduce you. If I remember correctly, you were the one lying atop me, cunt soaking through to my abdomen, much like I assume you’d be doing now if not for the pants you’re wearing.”
“You—“
“And as far as you being intoxicated,” he began, leaning his head down closer towards you, cutting off whatever scathing retort you had readied on your tongue. “Well, that’s irrelevant. Even if you hadn’t been drinking, I’m entirely sure the situation would’ve played out the same.”
“Under no circumstance would I have done such a thing had I been in my right mind.”
“No?” One of his hands crawled up your bare arm, grazing against the goosebumps that had just begun forming. “I think that’s not the case. You’re like me in a way. Always reaching for something — anything — that’ll bring you pleasure. Our reasons may be different, but our appetite is the same. You’re just as much of a glutton as I.”
“I am nothing like you, Sukuna.” You flattened both of your hands against his chest and pushed yourself up, both knees on either side of him. As you inched backwards, you moved just a bit too far, and you felt something hard, unbearably so, right underneath you.
Your mouth fell open as his entire body twitched, and you knew instantly what you had touched. Instinctively, you jerked forward and off of the mass. You had only brushed against the tip, and that alone was far bigger than you could’ve ever imagined.
You held his stare, watching as his eyes scanned your face, though you were unsure why. All you knew is that you couldn’t pick apart what emotion they were displaying, though you rarely ever could.
After all he had done to you that night and in the following days. Humiliating you in the worst way only to consistently hold it over your head in an attempt to get a rise out of you. And now, here he was, all riled up solely from you lying at his side.
He likely did move you next to him to keep you warm. You fully believed that was his intention. Though at some point while you slept in such a close proximity, his body betrayed him. It certainly would explain his foul mood and the way you couldn’t so much as touch his leg just moments prior.
If you had any sound judgement in your body, you would roll over back where you were and try to absorb enough of his warmth to sleep through the remainder of the night, and if you had any sense of pride, it would be you repaying him by holding this against him for the foreseeable future.
But for some reason, you found you had no sense of either. Instead, your mind wandered somewhere it should have never gone as you struggled to get the way he had twitched under you out of your head.
He had pleasured you before — albeit briefly — but you never had the chance to return the favor, and as you stared down at him with your traitorous hands still planted firmly across his hot flesh, you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like. The thoughts alone, imagining the faces he’d make, and the noises you could potentially pull from him made a familiar pressure pool in your lower abdomen.
“You look lost in thought,” was all he said, as if it were him trying to skirt around the subject for once.
“And what if I am?”
He finally released his grip on you, and that same hand snaked its way up to your face, finger slipping underneath your chin. “Are you going to share?”
Unconsciously, you wet your lips. “Depends.”
He just hummed in response, eyes never faltering from you. Your fingers kneaded into his chest, and you found yourself leaning forward, getting dangerously close. Every fiber in your body screamed for you to get off of him. That this was nothing more than another heinous trick and it would backfire on you tremendously.
What a terrible, foolish mistake.
Despite this, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. After the conversation the two of you had just shared, and everything he had just accused you of, all you would be doing is proving him right.
And as your lips hovered over his, with his breath hot on yours, you couldn’t help but wonder, “Is he?”
The hand still on your face halted you before you could grow any closer. “I will pleasure you, but I will not show you any sort of affection.”
He had refused to kiss you the first night as well, and at the time you took it as a rejection, but now you couldn’t care any less. His lips weren’t the part of him you desired anyway.
You swallowed before giving him a small nod.
His hands were unhurried as he moved, one popping open the button on your jeans while a second slipped eagerly underneath the thin fabric beneath them. You leaned your torso back slightly, giving him whatever room he needed, and the second his fingers were making contact with your clit, a whimper was escaping you.
He circled the bundle of nerves painstakingly slow as you were already struggling to keep your eyes open. They fluttered shut, and as he applied more pressure, it was your body jerking into his.
“What was it I just said about you being soaked?”
You didn’t need to see his face to know what expression it carried. It was a guarantee that obnoxious fucking smirk of his was there.
“I don’t think you have any room to—“
Your quip was cut short as a finger curled into you, your eyes flying back open, and of course, it was a toothy grin that met you. “Saying something?”
A second finger joined, sliding in with ease, and fuck, it felt better than you remembered. The movements were methodical and completely unlike what he had been willing to give you before. That night, the only thing on his mind had been gaining the insight he needed, but now you could tell this was nothing more than pure lust.
They continued thrusting with no rush, repeatedly curling upward just right, hitting that perfect spot every time. You wanted — no, needed — more from him.
Ryomen Sukuna was a far more patient man than you had ever given him credit for. Unfortunately you were unable to return the sentiment as you rolled your hips in a desperate attempt to take whatever you could. He hissed as you unintentionally brushed against the head of his cock once more, muttering something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.
He stilled his fingers, pulling them out of you, and grabbed onto the hem of your underwear. “Take these off.”
You nodded, quick to shed the clothing on your bottom half.
The cold air colliding against your flesh served as a sobering reminder of where you were and what you were about to delve into. For a split second you paused, knowing the act you were soon to commit was not only reprehensible but something you would never return from.
One day, you would complete your mission, and Sukuna would be gone from this world once more, but what you did with him on this solemn winter night would forever remain a scar that would never fade.
And it was then, in spite of everything you knew about him and what he was, that you still chose to climb back on top of him. The only thought that remained was not “is he right?” but “would it be so terrible if he was?”
Before your skin could connect with his, he stopped you just shy of it, one hand grabbing onto either of your hips. You hovered over his torso, and he stared up at you with a look akin to something a predator would give its prey the moment before it sank its teeth in.
“Do you remember what I told you that night?”
“Everything.” Your reply came embarrassingly quick.
“I meant what I said.” Something firm and absolutely sopping wet suddenly slid across your swollen clit. Both of your hands flew down to either side of his abdomen, desperate for any sort of stability as you tried to bite back a moan, failing miserably.
“I really have wondered about how you might taste.”
That massive, unnatural tongue he housed in his stomach lapped at you again, this time actually focusing in one spot rather than just a quick swipe. It was unrelenting as it massaged into your clit, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look down at it or Sukuna as your nails dug into his side harshly.
“But when I asked you, all you did was nod.” Suddenly the muscle moved back and both of Sukuna’s hands were forcing you down hard, the tongue in its entirety barreling into your cunt.
Your eyes widened at the intrusion, your body immediately flying forward, grabbing onto him. The noises that left you were shameful as you buried your flushed face into his chest.
“Thanks to that, I had to find out for myself.”
He kept talking, rambling even, and perhaps you would’ve actually enjoyed what he was saying if you weren’t absolutely enraptured by the way his tongue was moving.
It was indescribable, and you were certain you’d never feel a pleasure like it again. It twisted its tip, licking inside of you, kissing your womb’s entrance eagerly, and all you could do was let out muffled cries into Sukuna’s chest.
You felt his two right arms shift around you as you continued to be consumed from the inside out by his lower mouth. It wasn’t until you felt his shoulders move at a steady pace and heard a couple of low grunts under his breath that you realized what was occurring.
He’s pleasuring himself.
The realization had you melting into him, cunt instinctively clenching around the tongue as you extended your neck upwards slightly to catch sight of his face. All four eyes were closed tightly and rough lines were formed between his brows as another groan, one so low you almost missed it, fell from his slightly ajar lips.
Surprisingly, you found a pang of bravery in you, and before you knew it, you were leaning forward and brazenly biting down on the base of his neck.
He grunted, and the act was not lost on him as you felt both arms pick up speed, all of his eyes somehow clenched even tighter than before.
You found yourself curious. What was he even using the two hands down there for anyways that had him in so much ecstasy? And even more so than that, what did he look like?
Giving his neck one final bite, you allowed your tongue to lick the teeth marks you left behind gingerly before sitting up, tilting your head in hopes to see him — all of him. Before you could so much as get a glance, you felt the tongue, still lapping at your insides, begin to thrust up wildly.
Your body stuttered at the change of pace and fell back into him. Sukuna’s third hand soon found its way to your neglected clit. His eyes were open now, gaze focused on you with no intention of letting up, and when you attempted to shatter it, his fourth and final hand moved to your face, forcing you to look up at him.
“You’re close, and when it happens, I want you right here, looking at me, knowing that it was me who gave it to you.”
You weren’t sure if it was his ego, cruel and unyielding, wanting you to always remember this depraved moment or if it was his constant need to make you feel small, but regardless, even if he’d allow you to look away now, your eyes likely would’ve found their way back to his at some point.
Staring into them, intense, half-lidded pools of darkened ruby, felt as if you were staring into a fire, and you knew it then that Sukuna was going to end up burning you. And you’d let him. If nothing more than in the name of physical pleasure alone, you’d let him set you ablaze. You’d allow the flames consume you whole and burn you to ash, because now more so than ever, his words held true.
You were like him. Maybe not in your entirety. How could you be, after all? You could not bring yourself to even fathom half of the monstrosities he’s committed. But there were pieces — unmistakably human pieces of him — beyond the calamity all of history had grown to know him as, and those pieces were in you too.
He was every bit human as you. A terrible one surely, but a human nonetheless. And those small shreds of humanity — of weakness — linked you together now in your shared moment of shamelessness in some damp, frozen cave.
He was right — as always. You were close, unbelievably so. Between his hand, roughly rubbing your clit, and the tongue still pushing in and out of you at an unprecedented pace, your orgasm didn’t take long to build.
There was no easing into it or anticipation. It came crashing down all at once, explosive in manner and all-consuming, just like Sukuna.
It swallowed you whole. With legs trembling, your cunt tightening, and strings of moans pouring from your mouth, you must’ve cried out his name a handful of times. You managed to fight the urge to close your eyes or throw your head back, instead you just stared into him — into the flames that danced upon his irises the entire time.
You began to grind your hips against him, attempting to take every last bit of both hand and tongue, as you rode out the remainder of your peak. You milked every drop of ecstasy he gave you.
Eventually the pleasure morphed into pain as you grew sensitive with your lower body now overstimulated and aching. He was quick to catch the hint, with his hand leaving your clit, and the tongue inside you remaining but no longer moving.
All that remained now was that he reached his peak as well, and suddenly you felt a small flash of red-hot jealousy seer through you, because for a split second, you found yourself wishing that it was you providing him the pleasure he sought. That it was your fucked-out cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, sliding up and down rapidly, clenching and pulsating, feverishly chasing his release rather than his own hands.
You knew he wouldn’t let you, not right now at least. He wouldn’t even let you catch sight of him for whatever reason, so instead you did what little you could.
“Sukuna.”
He just grunted out an acknowledgment, still working hard on himself.
Your voice was soft as it spoke, “I wish you’d let me taste you too.”
It wasn’t sultry in the slightest. Rather, sounded more like a quiet confession, and that was his undoing. He half-choked back a groan, hips jerking upwards, and you felt something hot and thick splatter forcefully up your back.
His release continued and as it spilled onto you, you couldn’t even comprehend how so much could spill from a single cock. By the time he finished, you just sat there, his tongue still inside your soaked and stretched cunt, eyes never leaving one another.
You found yourself wishing the illusion would shatter. In fact, it’d be significantly easier. But that moment of clarity one usually receives after a high has been achieved never arrived. There was no shame or embarrassment or rationale to be found in your brain. Rather, it was nothing more than the unbridled desire for more.
Just as he said — always reaching for something.
Eventually, and reluctantly, you willed yourself to lift off of him, settling onto your knees by his side. You pulled your tank top off the remainder of the way, tossing it towards him as you faced the opposite direction.
“Wipe it up,” was all you said.
He followed the instruction silently and diligently, without a single quip.
“Hey, Sukuna.”
“What?” His voice was low.
“You were right about me,” you practically murmured as you felt the cotton roll over the sticky substance on your back. “I just did something that went against all my morals and common sense for a single moment of pleasure. It’ll likely haunt me for the remainder of my life, and I know that one day I will grow to resent it. But even knowing all of this, I would still choose to do it again no matter what consequences will inevitably bleed from it.”
“You are like me. However, you are not me, and solely because you climbed into bed with me does not mean your morals have dissolved.”
You angled your head slightly to peer at his face. The statement almost seemed kind if you overlooked the sudden harsh tone he took on, uncharacteristically so.
“I’m not seeking comfort or reassurance. I just can’t help but wonder—“ You paused as you met one of his eyes. “Why is it such a bad thing to begin with?”
Your back was soon free from any remnants of him, and your shirt was being tossed onto the ground next to you. He sat up on his knees and leaned over top of you, a thumb caressing your bottom lip.
“You tell me,” he muttered, prying your mouth open, his index finger slipping in with ease.
A saltiness flooded your senses, and that’s when you realized what it was he had placed on your tongue.
You told him you wanted to taste him.
Instantly closing your mouth around him, you sucked every last bit from his finger, your own tongue swirling around it as if you had never consumed anything a day in your life. You felt that feeling in your abdomen once more. The parts of you still sore from your climax, now ached for an entirely new reason.
It reflected in his eyes for a moment. The consideration was fleeting, but it was still there. Ultimately he must have decided against it, because he was soon pulling his hand from your lips with a scoff.
“A greedy little thing. Somehow even more than me.”
“I might be.”
“Get dressed, and try to keep warm. I’ll be back shortly.” He stood up, gesturing towards the fast-dwindling fire.
You had been so entranced by him, you hadn’t even noticed the fading light. It had been small to begin with, but now it was nothing more than a few dying embers crackling pathetically.
His back faded from view into the cold night and soon completely from your sight entirely. The loss of his presence was felt immediately, like a gaping hole left behind that you couldn’t bear to conceive.
And you began to feel a nasty emotion blossom in your chest. It was still neither the shame nor regret you expected to feel for the sinful act you had just indulged in. Either of those would have been far more welcomed. Rather, as you sat in witness to the last remaining spark the fire provided, it was worry that flooded you.
The flames you felt, what if they didn’t ravage you but instead would burn out completely?
sanguine chapter nineteen will be posted by the end of the day today. i wanted to have it posted on monday but i was dealing with some personal stuff and it made it incredibly difficult to finish the last thousand words or so. its all good now though, and almost ready to post. <3
Can we have a small preview of the chapter 19 maybe 👉🏼👈🏼
sure :) the first few paragraphs are below the cut. please know that im not finished with the chapter nor have i proofread or edited. there may be typos and the finalized text/dialogue may vary slightly.
Early morning sun peeked through the shoji doors in your room and softly pulled you from your slumber. Eyes fluttering open, your vision adjusted to the light filtering in, and you rolled over, tugging the plush blanket that lay atop you with one of your hands.
A quiet yawn tumbled from your lips as you cast your gaze downward, eyes settling on the blue silk-wrapped scabbard your fingers desperately clutched onto. The ghost of a smile overtook your lips as the corners tugged up slightly.
One down and only three more to go.
Once all four were acquired, you would be free of the never-ending hell you had been subjected to the past few weeks. Sukuna would be nothing more than an unpleasant memory, and your life would resume being as monotonous as it once was.
Sukuna.
Your eyes widened, fingers curling tightly around Suiryu as you glanced around wildly. Your travel companion was nowhere to be found. He never strayed far from you, yet now you could not even sense his presence. The only thing you felt now was the weapon in your grip.
“Sukuna?” Your voice was meek as you called out, scrambling to stand and immediately heading towards the hallway.
You rounded the corner, bare feet slapping against the wooden floor as you picked up your pace. Where the hell was he?
“Sukuna?” You called out again, this time your voice a bit louder, head turning from side to side as the hallway interjected with another.
The kitchen. Maybe he’s in the kitchen.
You began to move once more, this time heading desperately towards the familiar doors. It wasn’t long until a flash of something in your periphery caught your full attention. A shadow, moving against the walls.
The way you moved was instinctive. Not a single thought was needed to compel you forward as you held your breath and slipped the scabbard from the tantō, allowing it to clatter beneath your feet as you swung around, the blade fully exposed.
In that split second, you realized it was not another shadow you were facing but a pair of seemingly human eyes. Dark pink and widened in fear, you recognized to whom they belonged, and if it weren’t for a hand, much larger than your own, wrapping itself around your wrist, the blade would’ve made devastating contact.
Uraume backed up instantaneously and if you weren’t in such a frightened daze, you likely would’ve been more confused about why they had returned. Rather, you settled your eyes on the hand that still gripped you and followed it upwards until you were met with the man who was pulling you back into him, a grin making itself comfortable across his face.
“I didn’t imagine you would miss me so terribly already.” Another hand accompanied his mocking tone, slithering its way to your opposite shoulder as Sukuna’s eyes settled on the shadow that had originally spooked you, and his expression quickly changed to one of knowing.
i know a lot of people are waiting for sanguine chapter 19. i will try to have it out by the week’s end, and please know that while i hate it took me so long to finish this chapter, that it will also contain a surprise i think many will enjoy. thank u guys for ur sweet words and ur patience mwah
The world was far larger than you could have ever imagined. Just a little over two days into your journey, and you felt as if you had already seen it all. Vast, seemingly never-ending fields of greenery, as far as your vision would allow you to witness, later turned into picturesque rolling hills, littered with various crops. At some points throughout, streams, crystal clear and glimmering under both sun and moonlight, wove through the lands, carving themselves amongst various trees and foliage, but perhaps the most awe-inspiring were the mountains in the far distance. Towering, with an undeniable presence, they protruded from the ground into a dense canopy of clouds, their rough edges kissing the heavens as if the two were lovers forced to soon part.
The mare you sat atop let out a sigh, tilting her head back just slightly. You outstretched your fingers, gently rubbing against her smooth chestnut coat, and a faint smile began to form on your lips. It was the first time you had ever interacted with a horse, and while learning to ride proved to be a struggle the first few hours, eventually you were able to get a hang of it. At some point over your short but arduous travels, you had grown quite fond of the creature, and while you knew your separation was both fast-approaching and inevitable, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad.
What a trivial thing to mourn.
Your gaze moved upwards to the stallion just ahead of you. A rich, obsidian coat that reflected the sun’s rays brilliantly and far more massive than the horse you had been given to ride, he was a perfect mirror for the man perched on his back — your escort for the journey. You had no idea who the man was, with his darkened, solemn eyes and short, neat hair to match. The only words he had spoken to you thus far consisted of vague instructions on horseback riding and curt commands such as “eat” or “sleep.” He had never been to the brothel as far as you knew, neither as a patron nor an employee.
You knew he was a sorcerer by the cursed energy that surrounded him, and he either did not care enough to conceal this fact or his energy reserves were so expansive he was truly unable to. Judging by the man who had just taken over your contract, you leaned toward the latter. The small amount you did know of Lord Sukuna, you imagined Lady Nene wanted to take no chances in ensuring that you arrived promptly and safely, so she likely resorted to hiring a strong sorcerer.
“Do not stray,” your escort grumbled, breaking the silence, his voice low. Eyes slipping past the brooding man, you watched as buildings began to appear on the horizon.
Your own was meek as you simply replied, “Understood.”
He grunted, acknowledging your compliance, before simultaneously clicking his tongue and tapping the stallion’s flanks. The horse responded immediately, picking up its pace, nowhere near a run but far quicker than the stroll it had been doing just a moment prior. You took in a deep breath before following suit. Your mare heeded the command just as his had, and your body leaned forward slightly, hands tightening their grip on the reins.
There were quite a few buildings ahead, and as you grew closer and closer, that number only continued to climb. Throughout your journey, there had been a few small farming villages you encountered, but nothing of this magnitude. It was an actual town, and the dirt road you found yourself on led directly down the center of it. Silhouettes of people could be seen bustling around in their day-to-day lives. Some carried goods on their backs, heads down in an apparent rush, while others engaged in friendly conversation, loitering around the many yatai that lined the street, gorging themselves on tempura skewers and plump dango.
Out of your periphery, you suddenly witnessed the man slowing to a near halt, and thankfully you were able to mirror the motion by tugging the reins, your mare coming to a similar speed just on the edge of town. He pushed forward, weaving in and out of pedestrians, never once letting his gaze falter from the path ahead. You, however, eagerly took in everything. The aroma of fish, fired above an open flame, caught itself on the mid-morning’s breeze and wafted through the open air while the sounds of children’s laughter spilled through the street from inside one of the houses. Men exchanged currency for bowls of soba, slurping the thin, delicious noodles with glee while a couple of women, clad in yukatas, carried buckets of water through a doorway just to the left of you.
It felt strange to experience such a thing. For years you had watched similar scenes in the pleasure district, albeit mainly only men, through the front hall’s window. Humans just existing, doing mundane things, and going about their lives. Though this time there was no piece of glass separating you from the outside world as it moved along. For the first time ever, it felt like you were existing too, even if for a brief period.
The man came to a standstill in front of a food cart, immediately dismounting from his horse, not once sparing a glance in your direction. You took that as a sign to stay put, stalling right next to his stallion, casting your eyes down and sitting in silence. He asked the older gentleman behind the grill something, though you couldn’t make out what, and it wasn’t long until he was forcing a skewer into your line of sight.
“Eat.”
“Thank you.” Your voice remained quiet as you loosened one of your hands to reach for it.
“My lord. Thank you, my lord.”
Never once throughout your journey had he corrected you until now, and your body grew still at the realization. You hadn’t a single clue that the sorcerer was anything beyond a hired escort for your travels, and such a miscalculation usually carried grave consequences. If it weren’t for the fact that a seemingly powerful man had just laid claim to you, you likely would’ve paid for such a slight with your life.
You swallowed harshly, hand wrapping around the bamboo skewer, voice trembling, and head dipping downwards. “My sincerest apologies, my lord. I hadn’t realized.”
“I said to eat,” he spat. “I don’t want that beast to think I’ve starved his newest prize.”
You involuntarily flinched at his harshness as the word “beast” dripped from his tongue like venom, full of disdain through and through. Though it wasn’t just his sudden aggression that prompted such a reaction from you, but also the unwanted reminder of the cruel fate that would be upon you by day’s end. You moved what was presumably some sort of fish up to your lips, both trying to obey the command and divert your attention elsewhere, and were ready to bite down when a loud, boisterous voice rang out.
“Hey, Zenin!”
“Fuck,” the man hissed under his breath, a scowl overcoming his features as he turned his back to you.
Zenin. He’s a Zenin.
You had not only heard of the clan before but personally encountered them as well. Many Zenin men had visited the brothel over the years. From your limited understanding, there were three major clans of jujutsu sorcerers. All of them were powerful in their own right, both physically and politically. Publicly, they were nothing more than business owners and land lords, owning an extensive portion of properties across the nation. However, behind the curtains, all three sat atop the sorcery world and were forces to be reckoned with.
The man whom the voice belonged to was quick to approach. Tussled locks of a lighter brown fell lazily across his forehead, bouncing as he practically skipped towards your escort. Despite being clad in a loose, dark blue kosode, you could still tell he had a pronounced build. His eyes, light green with flecks of gold bordering the pupils, never once paid you any mind. His sole focus remained the Zenin man you had unknowingly been traveling with.
“What are you doing out here?” The stranger asked, a sly grin forming on his lips as he grew closer. “It’s a terribly long way from home.”
“I could say the same to you.”
You forced your gaze back down, finally biting into your skewer. A rich, savory flavor suddenly spread throughout your mouth as you chewed the tender fish, delighting in its remarkable flavor. You had never had anything like it. Daily meals for servants usually consisted of nothing more than miso soup or katemashi. Every now and then — perhaps once, maybe twice a year — you were allowed a small portion of boiled fish, but that was usually reserved for special celebratory occasions.
At some point, the two men strolled off, continuing their conversation. You had failed to keep track and were instead distracted by the succulent food you clutched.
“It must be good. Can’t say I’ve seen someone enjoy my food that much in a while.”
You turned your head, eyes moving to the elderly man who had prepared your food. He donned a wide smile — one that appeared sincere — as he spoke. His hair was short and silver, shining brightly under the rapidly climbing sun as he leaned forward a bit, pushing some of his skewers to the side, undoubtedly wanting to continue conversing with you.
“Have you never had kabayaki before?” His inquiry sounded harmless; in fact, it seemed like nothing more than a genuine curiosity.
Your eyes widened slightly, the fish still impolitely hanging from your mouth, a bit of sauce smeared on the corners of your lips. You didn’t think you had ever heard a man speak so politely before in your entire life.
“N—no, I haven’t, sir,” you managed to force out, eyes reflexively darting away from his.
He chuckled. “That’s surprising. Most people have. It’s just grilled eel and soy sauce.”
“Well, it is delicious, thank you.” Your head dipped down softly.
“Someone of your status should not speak in such a manner.”
My status?
“I apologize, sir, but I do not follow.”
He half-heartedly gestured towards the two men, many paces away, still engaged in a deep conversation. “You’re Koichi Zenin’s mistress, are you not?”
That’s his name.
You turned briefly to focus on the raven-haired man as you replied, “I just met him for the first time two days ago. He was sent to escort me to the man who bought out my contract.”
“You’re a courtesan then, I presume?”
Not in the slightest.
However, you didn’t feel like delving into it, so the lie fell from you with ease alongside a nod. “Something of the sort.”
“I cannot imagine a customer so important that a Zenin is being forced to hand-deliver a courtesan to them.”
“I suppose he is, but in all honesty, I wouldn’t know. I’ve also only met the man once. However, I will find out soon enough. If you don’t mind me asking, sir, which feudal lord oversees this territory?”
“We don’t have one.”
You peeled your eyes away from the Zenin and his acquaintance, letting them fall back on the man behind the food stall. His hands were busying themselves with preparing more kabayaki. A sharp knife was balanced carefully in them as he began diligently carving up the raw eel.
“Oh. I wasn’t aware there were unsupervised territories still in the nation. Forgive me.”
“You misunderstand, girl.” He paid you no mind as he picked up a chunk of the eel, dipping it into a deep, dark vat of sauce he pulled from underneath the cart. “We are not unprotected. It is just not a man who rules over us. Rather, a god.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and the sound of Lady Kana’s voice ricocheted throughout your mind. This must be part of her warning to you. The man you had been bought out by, Lord Sukuna, was apparently viewed and worshipped as a god in some parts of Japan.
You stared at the man continuing his preparations, swallowing back any questions that threatened to surface. There was so much you were desperate to know before your arrival at Lord Sukuna’s shrine as the anticipation gnawed at you, though considering your true social standing and who you were accompanied by, you felt it wise not to push your luck any further. Instead, you just let out a soft “I see.”
Taking the final bite of your kabayaki, you attempted to savor it, as you weren’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to eat something so flavorful again, though the moment of enjoyment you attempted to procure for yourself was cut short as a hand was gripping onto your wrist, the freshly cleaned skewer clattering to the ground beneath your mare.
“Kamo, cease this immediately!” You heard the Zenin hiss as your frightened gaze flew up to meet his friend’s. The strange man stared at you, his fingers slipping underneath the purple sleeve of your kimono, digging into your bare flesh as he tugged you down slightly, forcing your face closer to his.
Once more you felt the stilling of your own breath, this time at the name uttered.
You had only seen one Kamo before in your life. Apparently they preferred other pleasure houses rather than the one you served in, though despite this, you knew the name all the same. They were another one of the big three sorcery clans and equally as powerful as the Zenins.
“Oh, would you relax? I just want to look at the bitch.” He pulled on your arm again, forcing you down even lower to where you were now fully leaned over, and his other hand reached out, slipping underneath your chin. “I want to see what’s so valuable.”
Before you even had a chance to think, his fingers crawled up your jaw, tilting it to the side as he eyed you. “Besides, he’s in an exceptionally good mood today for whatever reason. Though, I have an inkling why.”
You cut your eyes down, only to be met with a cruel, taunting grin in return as you forced yourself to take a small breath. The Kamo knew Sukuna as well, and not only that, he seemed to have been in contact with him. Lady Kana had said his full name was Ryomen Sukuna so certainly he wasn’t a member of any of the big clans, so did he have financial dealings with them?
He leaned in, hot breath flooding the apple of your cheek, eyes darting across your face, and you weren’t the only one unnerved at the situation as your escort’s cursed energy began to bubble up at the escalating situation.
“You look exactly like your whore mother,” the man sneered before releasing his grip on you. He turned away, muttering something to Lord Zenin before making himself scarce, though despite the close proximity they still held to you, you missed it. Straightening back up, you softly rubbed the spot where the man’s fingers had just held onto you, your mind wandering elsewhere as you attempted to make sense of what had just happened.
You heard a throat clear as you quickly lifted your glum stare up to meet Lord Zenin’s. He just nodded towards where the dirt road led straight through the town before climbing up onto his stallion. No further words were exchanged as he took off, and you prompted your horse to do the same. Soon the vibrant village was replaced by forest and flora, and you twisted back to get a glimpse of the rapidly shrinking buildings one final time before they disappeared all together. The moments of eating and conversing with that kind man behind the yatai were nothing more than a fleeting memory.
One could never be certain what the future held, though if yours was anything like the life you had lived so far, you knew you’d never get to experience such a thing again.
The mountains in the distance began to grow closer, and with their approach, the terrain began to shift as well, becoming slightly more rugged, with the road growing more narrow. Eventually it came to a complete end. Despite this, your travel companion pushed onward, and you were left no choice but to follow, weaving in and out of the pine trees that only grew in height the further you went in.
The sun had reached its peak in the sky as morning began to morph into afternoon, though it was far more meager, as a thick canopy of grey clouds had since accumulated, and you could only hope you would arrive at your destination before the rain would start its imminent descent. You weren’t sure if you could bear to see anything to ruin the kimono Lady Kana had graciously gifted you. It was likely juvenile reasoning, but it was the only nice thing you had owned. And for some reason, still largely unknown to you, it managed to bring you some sort of small comfort.
You had long accepted your future role in Lord Sukuna’s life from the second he had demanded you rise to your feet in front of him. It was the only time in your life that your social status was irrelevant. Whether you were a servant or not was utterly meaningless, because even if by some stroke of luck you had been born royalty, it would not have mattered in that moment. A man — a seemingly powerful one at that — had demanded something of you, and if you wanted to survive, you were forced to oblige.
But your acceptance was not apathy, and no matter how inevitable it was, it brought you unease all the same.
“We will be arriving shortly,” Lord Zenin called out from ahead, his head turning back to face you. “Try not to look so fucking miserable.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And do not tell that thing what I allowed to transpire earlier with Hayato Kamo. I imagine he would not take well to someone else touching his property in such a rough manner.”
“Understood, my lord.”
And just as he had warned of your impending arrival, a building began to protrude from the horizon, though it was far from what you expected. A shrine is what Lord Sukuna himself had called it, which you did find strange at the time, because why would a lord willingly reside in such a place? Though as you grew near, it seemed to be far more of a palace than a shrine. A high, sturdy brick wall wrapped around the entirety of the property as a three-story-tall, red building peered out from behind it. The barrier that protected the land was long, and though you couldn’t tell just how large the shrine was from the exterior, you already knew it was unlike anything you could have imagined.
A pair of wooden gates opened up, and Lord Zenin came to a halt, using his hands to gesture you forward and ahead of him. Your hands tightened around the reins as a wave of anxiousness crashed over you, and your entire body went rigid at the prospect of seeing the towering, frightening man who had laid claim to you just days prior. But as your mare led you through the gates, he was nowhere to be found.
A handful of men and women clad in servant’s attire bustled around the front courtyard, some carrying pails of water and others bushels of barley, each with their heads low in an unassuming demeanor. One single person stood in the center, wearing a sleek alabaster kimono with short, shoulder-length hair to match. Arms clasped tightly in the front, they stared at you with an unreadable expression before casting their full attention to Lord Zenin.
“Master Sukuna will be pleased.” They spoke with a flat voice, completely devoid of any emotion.
“The Zenin clan would also like to extend a gift to Lord Sukuna as a token of our goodwill if he would be so gracious as to accept, of course.”
You looked back to Lord Zenin, and though his cadence managed to sound cordial, his expression had begun to betray him. Every word he forced out looked as if it brought him pain to say such fictitious things, and his disgust grew more thinly veiled by the second.
“The mare that the girl sits atop is his now.”
Out of your periphery you watched as Lord Sukuna’s pale-haired subordinate allowed the corner of their lip to quirk up slightly, though their tone remained monotonous. “An extravagant gift.”
“Consider it a symbol of what we hope to be a long friendship.”
“I’m sure.” Pink eyes flickered towards you as the stranger moved in closer, extending their arm, insinuating that it was time for you to disembark.
You swung one leg over the side, hand reaching out to grab onto theirs for any sort of stability as you hopped down, knees bending slightly on the impact as your waraji crashed into the earth beneath you.
“You may call me Uraume,” they said, arm retracting the second you were on solid ground. “I serve Master Sukuna, and he has instructed that I ensure you properly settle in. Please follow me.”
No response was necessary as they sauntered off. Unconsciously your hand balled up the silk of your kimono as you shuffled behind, peering up at the massive structure before you. It was not only gargantuan but ornate as well. A fine piece of architecture that was far more befitting a king than a lord such as Sukuna. The place made the pleasure house from which you hailed appear as if it were nothing more than a peasant’s residence.
Two lofty wooden doors swung open, and you glanced back one last time at the horse by the gate, a servant leading her away. The faintest of smiles ghosted over your lips, because no matter what hell awaited you beyond the threshold, at least you’d likely see the mare again at some point in time. It was not much, but you would cling to the small comfort that brought, just as you would Lady Kana’s kimono.
The interior was staggering once you entered, eyes widening slightly at the expansive entryway before you. Immaculate, dark wooden flooring stretched ahead, gleaming underneath the orange paper lanterns, each with intricate designs, that hung from the ceilings. The walls themselves were dark as well, a rich charcoal color with the occasional scroll or piece of art hanging from them. It was somehow both somber yet still remarkably beautiful.
You failed to keep your eyes to yourself as you trailed behind Uraume, taking in everything Lord Sukuna’s shrine had to offer — though you still mentally maintained that this was no shrine. The walls eventually gave way to shoji doors as you wove deeper into the building, signaling that rooms were now nestled on either side of you. The air smelled lightly of smoke, but not of tobacco, rather actual flames torching wood, and occasionally a musky scent would waft through.
A girl passed by, head tucked low much like yours often was, carrying a pile of folded linens. She appeared to be about your age, perhaps a few years younger. Her golden hair was tied back neatly, not a strand out of place, and her beige kosode was free of any stains. She was unbelievably clean for one likely bound to a life of service.
It was strange. You had heard nothing but ill tales of Lord Sukuna, but his servants already seemed as if they were treated far better than the ones in the pleasure district and certainly more so than the house in which you served. You wouldn’t be a fool and mistake that for benevolence. After all, you had laid eyes upon him yourself. However, as another servant passed by, this one a young man in a nearly pristine grey yukata, you struggled to imagine him being as awful as Lady Kana had suggested.
Your guide came to a sudden halt in front of a pair of doors, turning to face you slightly. “This is your room. Master Sukuna has requested you join him for dinner this evening. Someone will be back to get you when it is time. Do not leave and wander under any circumstance.”
“Understood,” you breathed out, with a polite nod of the head.
They were quick to retreat and out of your sight before you could even grasp onto the doors fully. In one swift motion, you were pushing them to the side, ready to enter, though the sight that awaited you had immediately frozen your feet in place.
Over twice the size of the room you had once shared with countless other servants, tatami flooring stretched across the space in its entirety. Two of the walls contained a pair of shoji doors, while the others had murals stretching across them. One was painted with three mountain peaks embracing a picturesque coastline rife with a thick fog, slightly obscured by draping leaves, and a bright partial moon perched above the scene. The second contained art of evergreen bamboo and a sedge of cranes flying about.
There was not much furniture, making the room appear far too massive for one such as yourself. In the corner was a large cypress chest meant for clothing storage, while a matching low table rested not far from it. Right in the center was a neatly kept futon with plush, ivory bedding, and atop of it was a clean, pressed kimono.
You finally moved into the room, legs carrying you over to the fine piece of attire as you squatted down, reaching out for it. A luxurious silk, far more so than what Lady Kana had gifted you. Sanguine in color, black embellishments lined both the sleeves and the bottom hem. The garment itself could be considered a work of art and was something a seamstress undoubtedly spent forever crafting.
Lord Sukuna’s intentions with you suddenly became very clear. He likely would not provide such a thing to anyone other than someone he planned to reserve as a mistress or concubine. You had long assumed as much despite Lady Kana telling you otherwise. Courtesan or not, a man was not going to take over a contract from one of the most renowned brothels in the nation only to force the woman into physical servitude. Why he picked you remained a mystery that you’d be lying if you said hadn’t tormented you to some degree, but the things you would be forced into doing had never been more obvious.
Regardless, your anticipation did not make the situation any easier, and your mouth suddenly felt bone dry. All you could hope for now is that your role would be the former. A mistress was nothing more than someone to provide pleasure, whereas a concubine would be expected to secure his lineage by providing heirs.
You stood up straight, undoing the kimono that clung to you, allowing it to hit the floor by your feet. It was clear that you were supposed to change into what was left for you, and you did not wish to disappoint Lord Sukuna on your first night at his residence. Soon, it was rich red silk draping across your body, the hue reminiscent of fresh blood, and at some point during your brief attempt at ensuring the kimono was snug with everything properly in place, rain had begun to fall.
Many hours likely remained until you were sought out. Your feet carried you over towards the empty table where you made yourself comfortable on the ground nearby. Leaning down, you rested the side of your cheek against your knees, staring blankly at the elegant cranes painted along the wall, listening as the pitter-patter of rainfall had morphed into a full-fledged storm. Thunder would crack loudly, and though you were unable to watch the sullen weather from your windowless room, the sounds were enough to piece it together, and you imagined it was quite beautiful.
Time stretched on as the heavens continued to weep, and they did so unfettered. A part of you was envious of such an act. You felt strange and out of place. The excitement of seeing the world for the first time had already been ripped from you, and all that remained now was an emptiness. It was both something you had grown accustomed to feeling, and also an alien concept. It would no longer be caked-on dirt, tracked in from the soles of some samurai’s septa, that you would diligently scrub from flooring or a courtesan’s stained bedding that you would launder. You had a legitimate role to play now, and it was one you would have never chosen by your own accord.
Be it Lady Nene or Lord Sukuna, whoever held your contract was irrelevant. It would just be a different breed of misery and would constrict you all the same. However, you would not be afforded the luxury of allowing your tears to fall, so you would force them back down, just as you always had.
You lacked any details, but you knew now that the former oiran had tried to ensure you would not end up in a similar position to hers, though now it was all futile. Forced to slave the entirety of your life away and robbed of any sense of self, only to end up in the hands of some wealthy lord as his personal plaything. It was an unforgiving cycle — one that did not begin with her and certainly one that would not end with you.
At some point a soft knock against your door made itself known, and you were rising to your feet swiftly. As you slid it open, the blonde servant girl you had spotted in the hallways earlier appeared. Her head was politely tucked down, eyes never leaving the floor.
“Master Sukuna has demanded your presence.”
“Please lead me to him.” The words burned as they left you, but you somehow managed to keep them from cracking.
The servant turned around, leading down the halls in the opposite direction from which you entered earlier. Her gaze remained planted downwards, and it was silent as you both rounded a corner, revealing a wide, wooden staircase. She ascended quickly, both hands lifting her kosode while your movements were far slower, allowing your fingertips to slide up the railing.
The second story resembled the portion of the first where your room was housed, and it wasn’t long until you were brought to another set of shoji doors. The girl you followed lifted her hand ready to knock, but it slid open before she had the opportunity. Immediately her legs folded beneath her as she bowed low to the ground. Uraume stood in the threshold, beckoning you in, and the second you were no longer in her care, the servant scurried off without another word.
A lengthy table stretched across the center of the room, and on the side opposite you sat the man who had bought you out. Four crimson eyes tore into you like claws, the intensity of his stare causing your breath to falter. Even now, with his cursed energy undetectable and sitting on the ground, he was still every bit intimidating. Whatever earlier thoughts you had about him not being as terrible as you had heard dissipated within an instant. One look at him now, up close and in the light, and you knew he was exactly the monster Lady Kana warned you of.
Should you displease him even once, it would be the last thing you ever did.
You heeded her advice and lowered yourself to the floor, providing a polite, proper bow befitting someone who was often referred to as a god. Normally one might greet him, but you weren’t quite sure what the rules here were yet, and speaking out of turn could spell trouble for you.
“Come,” was all he said. His resounding voice nearly felt like a mirror of the occasional thunder that still roared from the evening storm just outside.
You rose, shuffling over to the table, eyeing the empty black and gold embroidered cushion that rested directly across from him, stopping just before it.
“Sit.”
You sunk down as gracefully as you could, settling onto the cushion, back straight and arms crossed, but your eyes were firmly planted on the empty table rather than him. Footsteps could be heard making haste towards you both, a large blue and white porcelain plate being slid in front of Lord Sukuna containing a heaping pile of rare meat, still oozing blood from its cool red center.
You immediately stiffened at its arrival. Eating meat was not only rare throughout the nation but also banned. Consumption of it only came about for medicinal reasons, as it was occasionally used to treat certain ailments. Though by the way he slid the chunk of meat in his mouth, chewing eagerly with a satisfied hum, you knew this was not a one-time occurrence.
Was it a stag? Perhaps a mountain boar? Certainly not something as taboo as cattle.
Suddenly he was casting his gaze up at you as he shoved in another piece.
“Look at me, fully.”
He wore an identical outfit to the one he donned the night of your first meeting. That same black haori hung loosely across his shoulders, with his two lower arms leaning back to prop up his weight while the top two made quick work of devouring his meal.
No matter how strange or inconceivable his build was to you, the consequences of possibly offending him outweighed your curiosities, so you fought the overwhelming urge to allow your eyes to wander again, if even for a second, instead focusing on his face.
“Tell me, have you ever eaten meat?”
“No, my lord.” Your voice was remarkably small compared to his.
“Figured,” he responded as a plate was carefully set in front of you.
Steam wafted upwards, swirling up into your face, and you momentarily eyed the sustenance you had been provided. Thankfully, it was not meat awaiting you, but rather a thick piece of what appeared to be braised fish, accompanied by a small cup of miso soup and some sort of pickled vegetable. A pair of chopsticks stretched across the plate, and you sat still, looking back up to him, awaiting any sort of command that you could begin to indulge yourself.
He didn’t notice you at first. Instead, he seemed utterly absorbed by the shrinking pile of game before him. Eventually one of his lower eyes crept upwards, and finally he began speaking.
“What?” He barked out, his full gaze making its way back to you now. His voice was the loudest it had been since you met him. “Am I going to have to hold your hand through every little thing?”
It took everything in you not to jump back as his outburst aligned with a boisterous crack of thunder just outside the room.
“Eat your fucking food.”
Was that the cruelty Lady Kana had warned you of already peeking through? Though, it honestly didn’t stray too far from what you often witnessed from other men.
“Yes, my lord.” What you spoke was barely above a whisper as you moved to pick up the chopsticks.
A small piece of the fish slipped between your lips, and you chewed as neatly as you could muster. It was delicious, so much so that if perhaps you weren’t under the watchful eyes of Lord Sukuna, you likely would’ve gorged yourself. Next, you reached for the vegetable. You were unsure exactly what it was, but its sharp acidity was welcome all the same.
You looked back up to the man sitting across from you, only to be met with the sight of his freshly cleaned plate as he leaned forward onto one of his propped-up arms, cheek resting against his palm as all four of his eyes zeroed in on you.
Neither one of you broke the silent atmosphere for a bit. Your attention was split between him and your meal, but now with his gone, it seemed the only thing on his mind was you. The weight of his stare became far more immense as a tightness blossomed within your chest. Movements becoming stiffer and the taste of your food growing duller, you were increasingly unable to prevent your worries from spiraling.
Were you expected to already begin your duties?
“The night of our first meeting I found myself to be amused by you, albeit briefly, you were still amusing nonetheless. Yet here you sit, frightened and wide-eyed, refusing to so much as even flinch like some sort of fragile animal. If I wanted a pet, I’d go get a dog.”
“I apologize, my lord. It was never my intention to offend you.”
“And cease referring to me as such,” he responded, eyes briefly leaving you to greet the fresh plate Uraume had placed before him. “At least in private, that is. Your formalities are growing obnoxious already.”
You took in another spoonful of your miso soup, the utensil scraping against the bottom of the ceramic bowl as it was nearing its end. “As you wish.”
“Indulge me for a moment, girl, and tell me, if you could have anything at all in this world, what would it be?”
You paused, chopsticks stilling as they attempted to pick up a piece of the fish as you pondered his unexpected question. Just as you had told the former oiran a few evenings prior, you hadn’t thought about your own wants in a remarkably long time, as it was futile to dream up such things. What was the point of desire if it would never come to fruition? Though, none of that mattered due to the man before you that was awaiting an answer, and you knew better than to deny him one.
“I’m not entirely sure what it is that I would want. I try not to think of such nonsense,” you began, eyes holding his as the words left you cautiously. “However, perhaps I would like the freedom to choose for myself.”
“Freedom, huh?” Something akin to a chuckle escaped him. “Such is the life of a servant.”
“Such is the life of a woman.” The retort fell from your tongue before you could even process it, and your regret was immediate. His eyes narrowed for a second as you waited for his response, and that second might as well have been an eternity.
However, no anger or even annoyance came from him. Instead, it was a laugh. Not quite as loud as the one you had pulled from him when you met, but far heftier than his chuckle from just a few moments prior.
Did your quip amuse him?
What a strange thing. Any other man would have struck you by now for such insolence, but Lord Sukuna appeared to find it humorous.
His laughter faded and his face dropped slightly as he pulled another hunk of meat towards him. He held it in front of his lips, though he paused before they could touch the dripping hunk of animal flesh.
“I am going to take you as my bride.”
The chopsticks in your hand faltered, slipping from your grasp, and nearly collided with the table, but you caught them. You stared back at him, breath caught in your throat, unable to form a coherent reply.
It was far worse than you could have imagined. As if the thoughts of being his mistress had not been sickening enough, he did not want to simply use you for pleasure and toss you aside. No, he wanted you to take the place of his wife and become lady of his shrine. To fulfill any and all wifely duties he envisioned for you, whatever that hell may be.
Why had such a terrible fate befallen you of all people? Had you not endured enough and paid whatever price this world had demanded of you twice over by now?
He chewed crudely, swallowing his indulgence with ease. “You seem rather taken aback. Certainly you had enough common sense to know I wouldn’t drag you all the way out here to partake in servitude.”
“No, I did not think that. However, I assumed incorrectly and thought you must already be married, and I would likely serve as a mistress or concubine.”
“You really haven’t a clue who you’re sitting before, do you?”
You stared at him blankly, setting down the utensils neatly, any appetite you had now long gone. “No, I do not.”
“Some may consider you lucky in that manner.” He lifted the final bite of his dinner, though he did not bring it to where one would expect. The maw on his stomach opened fully, sharp canines matching the ones on his face glimmered brightly as you sat, watching in dismay, as a monstrous tongue rolled out from the cavity, wrapping itself around the roasted meat before crawling back into its confines. “To be so sheltered and not have witnessed the full horrors this world has to offer.”
Sukuna rose to his feet, rounding the table and making his way towards you. You took that as a cue to stand yourself, but before you could do so, he was grabbing onto your arm, yanking you upwards. He was far from gentle, much like the previous time he had touched you. Despite this, you could tell the ache in your arm from his grip was not his intention.
His hand slid down your forearm, soon engulfing your own. Warm, calloused fingertips rested against the back of your hand as he leaned down closer to you, and it took all your strength not to recoil at the new contact. “Do you know what a binding vow is?”
You shook your head slightly, your chest still tight from the revelation you’d soon be this man’s wife, and your body still fighting the urge to retreat from the close proximity you shared with one another.
“They’re one of the cornerstones of jujutsu sorcery. You can form them with either yourself or others, but doing so with others is far more complex. In sorcery, there must be balance. It is the natural order of things. In order to fully take, one must give something up. Both humans and intelligent curses alike can invoke binding vows, as they involve one’s cursed energy and soul. I would like to propose that you and I form one together.”
His hand shifted, and his thumb began to slink upwards, carefully tracing upwards from your palm to the tip of your index finger. “I have no desire to take a wife. However, I find myself in a situation where I need one. If you agree to marry me and do so with no impediments, then in return, whenever my use for you has passed, I will give you what you want and set you free. This vow is one that is unbreakable, and should I fail to keep my word, I will suffer terrible consequences. The same goes for you.”
The weight in your chest began to ease slightly with a gleam growing in your eyes that could only be described as hope. “Do you mean that?”
“Every word. Once you complete what I need you to, you’re free to go wherever you please. Run and hide away in some rural village, living off the land. Return to a pleasure house and serve as a courtesan rather than a servant. Sell yourself off to some wealthy business owner and live a comfortable life as his mistress. It’s irrelevant to me what you choose once your end of the deal has reached completion.”
The freedom to choose what to do with one’s life. Such a thing was unheard of. When was the last time a woman, a servant nonetheless, was given such an opportunity? Any path you desired to take at all, and Sukuna would allow it. He would cut the chains that bound you and set you free, allowing you to take your own life back. There would be no physical servitude, nor would you be forced to serve a man. You would be a fool to not agree to the terms he’s offered you.
But why would he even offer such a thing to you? Realistically it made no sense.
“You look concerned rather than pleased by my proposition.”
“I— I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure I follow. You could easily force me into a marriage, and there’s not a soul alive who could object, especially I. Why go to all this trouble?”
“Because it is none. You mean nothing to me, and turning you loose costs nothing. However, forcing you to cooperate would be far more of a headache in comparison. I want this to go smoothly with no hiccups, meaning you do what I say without a single complaint.” He moved in closer, his breath ricocheting off your ear. “Now, do you agree to our little vow?”
You swallowed harshly before nodding your head. “Yes.”
He squeezed your hand once before straightening up, eyes focused on you. “Good. We will wed in two weeks time.”
The world was far larger than you could have ever imagined. Just a little over two days into your journey, and you felt as if you had already seen it all. Vast, seemingly never-ending fields of greenery, as far as your vision would allow you to witness, later turned into picturesque rolling hills, littered with various crops. At some points throughout, streams, crystal clear and glimmering under both sun and moonlight, wove through the lands, carving themselves amongst various trees and foliage, but perhaps the most awe-inspiring were the mountains in the far distance. Towering, with an undeniable presence, they protruded from the ground into a dense canopy of clouds, their rough edges kissing the heavens as if the two were lovers forced to soon part.
The mare you sat atop let out a sigh, tilting her head back just slightly. You outstretched your fingers, gently rubbing against her smooth chestnut coat, and a faint smile began to form on your lips. It was the first time you had ever interacted with a horse, and while learning to ride proved to be a struggle the first few hours, eventually you were able to get a hang of it. At some point over your short but arduous travels, you had grown quite fond of the creature, and while you knew your separation was both fast-approaching and inevitable, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad.
What a trivial thing to mourn.
Your gaze moved upwards to the stallion just ahead of you. A rich, obsidian coat that reflected the sun’s rays brilliantly and far more massive than the horse you had been given to ride, he was a perfect mirror for the man perched on his back — your escort for the journey. You had no idea who the man was, with his darkened, solemn eyes and short, neat hair to match. The only words he had spoken to you thus far consisted of vague instructions on horseback riding and curt commands such as “eat” or “sleep.” He had never been to the brothel as far as you knew, neither as a patron nor an employee.
You knew he was a sorcerer by the cursed energy that surrounded him, and he either did not care enough to conceal this fact or his energy reserves were so expansive he was truly unable to. Judging by the man who had just taken over your contract, you leaned toward the latter. The small amount you did know of Lord Sukuna, you imagined Lady Nene wanted to take no chances in ensuring that you arrived promptly and safely, so she likely resorted to hiring a strong sorcerer.
“Do not stray,” your escort grumbled, breaking the silence, his voice low. Eyes slipping past the brooding man, you watched as buildings began to appear on the horizon.
Your own was meek as you simply replied, “Understood.”
He grunted, acknowledging your compliance, before simultaneously clicking his tongue and tapping the stallion’s flanks. The horse responded immediately, picking up its pace, nowhere near a run but far quicker than the stroll it had been doing just a moment prior. You took in a deep breath before following suit. Your mare heeded the command just as his had, and your body leaned forward slightly, hands tightening their grip on the reins.
There were quite a few buildings ahead, and as you grew closer and closer, that number only continued to climb. Throughout your journey, there had been a few small farming villages you encountered, but nothing of this magnitude. It was an actual town, and the dirt road you found yourself on led directly down the center of it. Silhouettes of people could be seen bustling around in their day-to-day lives. Some carried goods on their backs, heads down in an apparent rush, while others engaged in friendly conversation, loitering around the many yatai that lined the street, gorging themselves on tempura skewers and plump dango.
Out of your periphery, you suddenly witnessed the man slowing to a near halt, and thankfully you were able to mirror the motion by tugging the reins, your mare coming to a similar speed just on the edge of town. He pushed forward, weaving in and out of pedestrians, never once letting his gaze falter from the path ahead. You, however, eagerly took in everything. The aroma of fish, fired above an open flame, caught itself on the mid-morning’s breeze and wafted through the open air while the sounds of children’s laughter spilled through the street from inside one of the houses. Men exchanged currency for bowls of soba, slurping the thin, delicious noodles with glee while a couple of women, clad in yukatas, carried buckets of water through a doorway just to the left of you.
It felt strange to experience such a thing. For years you had watched similar scenes in the pleasure district, albeit mainly only men, through the front hall’s window. Humans just existing, doing mundane things, and going about their lives. Though this time there was no piece of glass separating you from the outside world as it moved along. For the first time ever, it felt like you were existing too, even if for a brief period.
The man came to a standstill in front of a food cart, immediately dismounting from his horse, not once sparing a glance in your direction. You took that as a sign to stay put, stalling right next to his stallion, casting your eyes down and sitting in silence. He asked the older gentleman behind the grill something, though you couldn’t make out what, and it wasn’t long until he was forcing a skewer into your line of sight.
“Eat.”
“Thank you.” Your voice remained quiet as you loosened one of your hands to reach for it.
“My lord. Thank you, my lord.”
Never once throughout your journey had he corrected you until now, and your body grew still at the realization. You hadn’t a single clue that the sorcerer was anything beyond a hired escort for your travels, and such a miscalculation usually carried grave consequences. If it weren’t for the fact that a seemingly powerful man had just laid claim to you, you likely would’ve paid for such a slight with your life.
You swallowed harshly, hand wrapping around the bamboo skewer, voice trembling, and head dipping downwards. “My sincerest apologies, my lord. I hadn’t realized.”
“I said to eat,” he spat. “I don’t want that beast to think I’ve starved his newest prize.”
You involuntarily flinched at his harshness as the word “beast” dripped from his tongue like venom, full of disdain through and through. Though it wasn’t just his sudden aggression that prompted such a reaction from you, but also the unwanted reminder of the cruel fate that would be upon you by day’s end. You moved what was presumably some sort of fish up to your lips, both trying to obey the command and divert your attention elsewhere, and were ready to bite down when a loud, boisterous voice rang out.
“Hey, Zenin!”
“Fuck,” the man hissed under his breath, a scowl overcoming his features as he turned his back to you.
Zenin. He’s a Zenin.
You had not only heard of the clan before but personally encountered them as well. Many Zenin men had visited the brothel over the years. From your limited understanding, there were three major clans of jujutsu sorcerers. All of them were powerful in their own right, both physically and politically. Publicly, they were nothing more than business owners and land lords, owning an extensive portion of properties across the nation. However, behind the curtains, all three sat atop the sorcery world and were forces to be reckoned with.
The man whom the voice belonged to was quick to approach. Tussled locks of a lighter brown fell lazily across his forehead, bouncing as he practically skipped towards your escort. Despite being clad in a loose, dark blue kosode, you could still tell he had a pronounced build. His eyes, light green with flecks of gold bordering the pupils, never once paid you any mind. His sole focus remained the Zenin man you had unknowingly been traveling with.
“What are you doing out here?” The stranger asked, a sly grin forming on his lips as he grew closer. “It’s a terribly long way from home.”
“I could say the same to you.”
You forced your gaze back down, finally biting into your skewer. A rich, savory flavor suddenly spread throughout your mouth as you chewed the tender fish, delighting in its remarkable flavor. You had never had anything like it. Daily meals for servants usually consisted of nothing more than miso soup or katemashi. Every now and then — perhaps once, maybe twice a year — you were allowed a small portion of boiled fish, but that was usually reserved for special celebratory occasions.
At some point, the two men strolled off, continuing their conversation. You had failed to keep track and were instead distracted by the succulent food you clutched.
“It must be good. Can’t say I’ve seen someone enjoy my food that much in a while.”
You turned your head, eyes moving to the elderly man who had prepared your food. He donned a wide smile — one that appeared sincere — as he spoke. His hair was short and silver, shining brightly under the rapidly climbing sun as he leaned forward a bit, pushing some of his skewers to the side, undoubtedly wanting to continue conversing with you.
“Have you never had kabayaki before?” His inquiry sounded harmless; in fact, it seemed like nothing more than a genuine curiosity.
Your eyes widened slightly, the fish still impolitely hanging from your mouth, a bit of sauce smeared on the corners of your lips. You didn’t think you had ever heard a man speak so politely before in your entire life.
“N—no, I haven’t, sir,” you managed to force out, eyes reflexively darting away from his.
He chuckled. “That’s surprising. Most people have. It’s just grilled eel and soy sauce.”
“Well, it is delicious, thank you.” Your head dipped down softly.
“Someone of your status should not speak in such a manner.”
My status?
“I apologize, sir, but I do not follow.”
He half-heartedly gestured towards the two men, many paces away, still engaged in a deep conversation. “You’re Koichi Zenin’s mistress, are you not?”
That’s his name.
You turned briefly to focus on the raven-haired man as you replied, “I just met him for the first time two days ago. He was sent to escort me to the man who bought out my contract.”
“You’re a courtesan then, I presume?”
Not in the slightest.
However, you didn’t feel like delving into it, so the lie fell from you with ease alongside a nod. “Something of the sort.”
“I cannot imagine a customer so important that a Zenin is being forced to hand-deliver a courtesan to them.”
“I suppose he is, but in all honesty, I wouldn’t know. I’ve also only met the man once. However, I will find out soon enough. If you don’t mind me asking, sir, which feudal lord oversees this territory?”
“We don’t have one.”
You peeled your eyes away from the Zenin and his acquaintance, letting them fall back on the man behind the food stall. His hands were busying themselves with preparing more kabayaki. A sharp knife was balanced carefully in them as he began diligently carving up the raw eel.
“Oh. I wasn’t aware there were unsupervised territories still in the nation. Forgive me.”
“You misunderstand, girl.” He paid you no mind as he picked up a chunk of the eel, dipping it into a deep, dark vat of sauce he pulled from underneath the cart. “We are not unprotected. It is just not a man who rules over us. Rather, a god.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and the sound of Lady Kana’s voice ricocheted throughout your mind. This must be part of her warning to you. The man you had been bought out by, Lord Sukuna, was apparently viewed and worshipped as a god in some parts of Japan.
You stared at the man continuing his preparations, swallowing back any questions that threatened to surface. There was so much you were desperate to know before your arrival at Lord Sukuna’s shrine as the anticipation gnawed at you, though considering your true social standing and who you were accompanied by, you felt it wise not to push your luck any further. Instead, you just let out a soft “I see.”
Taking the final bite of your kabayaki, you attempted to savor it, as you weren’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to eat something so flavorful again, though the moment of enjoyment you attempted to procure for yourself was cut short as a hand was gripping onto your wrist, the freshly cleaned skewer clattering to the ground beneath your mare.
“Kamo, cease this immediately!” You heard the Zenin hiss as your frightened gaze flew up to meet his friend’s. The strange man stared at you, his fingers slipping underneath the purple sleeve of your kimono, digging into your bare flesh as he tugged you down slightly, forcing your face closer to his.
Once more you felt the stilling of your own breath, this time at the name uttered.
You had only seen one Kamo before in your life. Apparently they preferred other pleasure houses rather than the one you served in, though despite this, you knew the name all the same. They were another one of the big three sorcery clans and equally as powerful as the Zenins.
“Oh, would you relax? I just want to look at the bitch.” He pulled on your arm again, forcing you down even lower to where you were now fully leaned over, and his other hand reached out, slipping underneath your chin. “I want to see what’s so valuable.”
Before you even had a chance to think, his fingers crawled up your jaw, tilting it to the side as he eyed you. “Besides, he’s in an exceptionally good mood today for whatever reason. Though, I have an inkling why.”
You cut your eyes down, only to be met with a cruel, taunting grin in return as you forced yourself to take a small breath. The Kamo knew Sukuna as well, and not only that, he seemed to have been in contact with him. Lady Kana had said his full name was Ryomen Sukuna so certainly he wasn’t a member of any of the big clans, so did he have financial dealings with them?
He leaned in, hot breath flooding the apple of your cheek, eyes darting across your face, and you weren’t the only one unnerved at the situation as your escort’s cursed energy began to bubble up at the escalating situation.
“You look exactly like your whore mother,” the man sneered before releasing his grip on you. He turned away, muttering something to Lord Zenin before making himself scarce, though despite the close proximity they still held to you, you missed it. Straightening back up, you softly rubbed the spot where the man’s fingers had just held onto you, your mind wandering elsewhere as you attempted to make sense of what had just happened.
You heard a throat clear as you quickly lifted your glum stare up to meet Lord Zenin’s. He just nodded towards where the dirt road led straight through the town before climbing up onto his stallion. No further words were exchanged as he took off, and you prompted your horse to do the same. Soon the vibrant village was replaced by forest and flora, and you twisted back to get a glimpse of the rapidly shrinking buildings one final time before they disappeared all together. The moments of eating and conversing with that kind man behind the yatai were nothing more than a fleeting memory.
One could never be certain what the future held, though if yours was anything like the life you had lived so far, you knew you’d never get to experience such a thing again.
The mountains in the distance began to grow closer, and with their approach, the terrain began to shift as well, becoming slightly more rugged, with the road growing more narrow. Eventually it came to a complete end. Despite this, your travel companion pushed onward, and you were left no choice but to follow, weaving in and out of the pine trees that only grew in height the further you went in.
The sun had reached its peak in the sky as morning began to morph into afternoon, though it was far more meager, as a thick canopy of grey clouds had since accumulated, and you could only hope you would arrive at your destination before the rain would start its imminent descent. You weren’t sure if you could bear to see anything to ruin the kimono Lady Kana had graciously gifted you. It was likely juvenile reasoning, but it was the only nice thing you had owned. And for some reason, still largely unknown to you, it managed to bring you some sort of small comfort.
You had long accepted your future role in Lord Sukuna’s life from the second he had demanded you rise to your feet in front of him. It was the only time in your life that your social status was irrelevant. Whether you were a servant or not was utterly meaningless, because even if by some stroke of luck you had been born royalty, it would not have mattered in that moment. A man — a seemingly powerful one at that — had demanded something of you, and if you wanted to survive, you were forced to oblige.
But your acceptance was not apathy, and no matter how inevitable it was, it brought you unease all the same.
“We will be arriving shortly,” Lord Zenin called out from ahead, his head turning back to face you. “Try not to look so fucking miserable.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And do not tell that thing what I allowed to transpire earlier with Hayato Kamo. I imagine he would not take well to someone else touching his property in such a rough manner.”
“Understood, my lord.”
And just as he had warned of your impending arrival, a building began to protrude from the horizon, though it was far from what you expected. A shrine is what Lord Sukuna himself had called it, which you did find strange at the time, because why would a lord willingly reside in such a place? Though as you grew near, it seemed to be far more of a palace than a shrine. A high, sturdy brick wall wrapped around the entirety of the property as a three-story-tall, red building peered out from behind it. The barrier that protected the land was long, and though you couldn’t tell just how large the shrine was from the exterior, you already knew it was unlike anything you could have imagined.
A pair of wooden gates opened up, and Lord Zenin came to a halt, using his hands to gesture you forward and ahead of him. Your hands tightened around the reins as a wave of anxiousness crashed over you, and your entire body went rigid at the prospect of seeing the towering, frightening man who had laid claim to you just days prior. But as your mare led you through the gates, he was nowhere to be found.
A handful of men and women clad in servant’s attire bustled around the front courtyard, some carrying pails of water and others bushels of barley, each with their heads low in an unassuming demeanor. One single person stood in the center, wearing a sleek alabaster kimono with short, shoulder-length hair to match. Arms clasped tightly in the front, they stared at you with an unreadable expression before casting their full attention to Lord Zenin.
“Master Sukuna will be pleased.” They spoke with a flat voice, completely devoid of any emotion.
“The Zenin clan would also like to extend a gift to Lord Sukuna as a token of our goodwill if he would be so gracious as to accept, of course.”
You looked back to Lord Zenin, and though his cadence managed to sound cordial, his expression had begun to betray him. Every word he forced out looked as if it brought him pain to say such fictitious things, and his disgust grew more thinly veiled by the second.
“The mare that the girl sits atop is his now.”
Out of your periphery you watched as Lord Sukuna’s pale-haired subordinate allowed the corner of their lip to quirk up slightly, though their tone remained monotonous. “An extravagant gift.”
“Consider it a symbol of what we hope to be a long friendship.”
“I’m sure.” Pink eyes flickered towards you as the stranger moved in closer, extending their arm, insinuating that it was time for you to disembark.
You swung one leg over the side, hand reaching out to grab onto theirs for any sort of stability as you hopped down, knees bending slightly on the impact as your waraji crashed into the earth beneath you.
“You may call me Uraume,” they said, arm retracting the second you were on solid ground. “I serve Master Sukuna, and he has instructed that I ensure you properly settle in. Please follow me.”
No response was necessary as they sauntered off. Unconsciously your hand balled up the silk of your kimono as you shuffled behind, peering up at the massive structure before you. It was not only gargantuan but ornate as well. A fine piece of architecture that was far more befitting a king than a lord such as Sukuna. The place made the pleasure house from which you hailed appear as if it were nothing more than a peasant’s residence.
Two lofty wooden doors swung open, and you glanced back one last time at the horse by the gate, a servant leading her away. The faintest of smiles ghosted over your lips, because no matter what hell awaited you beyond the threshold, at least you’d likely see the mare again at some point in time. It was not much, but you would cling to the small comfort that brought, just as you would Lady Kana’s kimono.
The interior was staggering once you entered, eyes widening slightly at the expansive entryway before you. Immaculate, dark wooden flooring stretched ahead, gleaming underneath the orange paper lanterns, each with intricate designs, that hung from the ceilings. The walls themselves were dark as well, a rich charcoal color with the occasional scroll or piece of art hanging from them. It was somehow both somber yet still remarkably beautiful.
You failed to keep your eyes to yourself as you trailed behind Uraume, taking in everything Lord Sukuna’s shrine had to offer — though you still mentally maintained that this was no shrine. The walls eventually gave way to shoji doors as you wove deeper into the building, signaling that rooms were now nestled on either side of you. The air smelled lightly of smoke, but not of tobacco, rather actual flames torching wood, and occasionally a musky scent would waft through.
A girl passed by, head tucked low much like yours often was, carrying a pile of folded linens. She appeared to be about your age, perhaps a few years younger. Her golden hair was tied back neatly, not a strand out of place, and her beige kosode was free of any stains. She was unbelievably clean for one likely bound to a life of service.
It was strange. You had heard nothing but ill tales of Lord Sukuna, but his servants already seemed as if they were treated far better than the ones in the pleasure district and certainly more so than the house in which you served. You wouldn’t be a fool and mistake that for benevolence. After all, you had laid eyes upon him yourself. However, as another servant passed by, this one a young man in a nearly pristine grey yukata, you struggled to imagine him being as awful as Lady Kana had suggested.
Your guide came to a sudden halt in front of a pair of doors, turning to face you slightly. “This is your room. Master Sukuna has requested you join him for dinner this evening. Someone will be back to get you when it is time. Do not leave and wander under any circumstance.”
“Understood,” you breathed out, with a polite nod of the head.
They were quick to retreat and out of your sight before you could even grasp onto the doors fully. In one swift motion, you were pushing them to the side, ready to enter, though the sight that awaited you had immediately frozen your feet in place.
Over twice the size of the room you had once shared with countless other servants, tatami flooring stretched across the space in its entirety. Two of the walls contained a pair of shoji doors, while the others had murals stretching across them. One was painted with three mountain peaks embracing a picturesque coastline rife with a thick fog, slightly obscured by draping leaves, and a bright partial moon perched above the scene. The second contained art of evergreen bamboo and a sedge of cranes flying about.
There was not much furniture, making the room appear far too massive for one such as yourself. In the corner was a large cypress chest meant for clothing storage, while a matching low table rested not far from it. Right in the center was a neatly kept futon with plush, ivory bedding, and atop of it was a clean, pressed kimono.
You finally moved into the room, legs carrying you over to the fine piece of attire as you squatted down, reaching out for it. A luxurious silk, far more so than what Lady Kana had gifted you. Sanguine in color, black embellishments lined both the sleeves and the bottom hem. The garment itself could be considered a work of art and was something a seamstress undoubtedly spent forever crafting.
Lord Sukuna’s intentions with you suddenly became very clear. He likely would not provide such a thing to anyone other than someone he planned to reserve as a mistress or concubine. You had long assumed as much despite Lady Kana telling you otherwise. Courtesan or not, a man was not going to take over a contract from one of the most renowned brothels in the nation only to force the woman into physical servitude. Why he picked you remained a mystery that you’d be lying if you said hadn’t tormented you to some degree, but the things you would be forced into doing had never been more obvious.
Regardless, your anticipation did not make the situation any easier, and your mouth suddenly felt bone dry. All you could hope for now is that your role would be the former. A mistress was nothing more than someone to provide pleasure, whereas a concubine would be expected to secure his lineage by providing heirs.
You stood up straight, undoing the kimono that clung to you, allowing it to hit the floor by your feet. It was clear that you were supposed to change into what was left for you, and you did not wish to disappoint Lord Sukuna on your first night at his residence. Soon, it was rich red silk draping across your body, the hue reminiscent of fresh blood, and at some point during your brief attempt at ensuring the kimono was snug with everything properly in place, rain had begun to fall.
Many hours likely remained until you were sought out. Your feet carried you over towards the empty table where you made yourself comfortable on the ground nearby. Leaning down, you rested the side of your cheek against your knees, staring blankly at the elegant cranes painted along the wall, listening as the pitter-patter of rainfall had morphed into a full-fledged storm. Thunder would crack loudly, and though you were unable to watch the sullen weather from your windowless room, the sounds were enough to piece it together, and you imagined it was quite beautiful.
Time stretched on as the heavens continued to weep, and they did so unfettered. A part of you was envious of such an act. You felt strange and out of place. The excitement of seeing the world for the first time had already been ripped from you, and all that remained now was an emptiness. It was both something you had grown accustomed to feeling, and also an alien concept. It would no longer be caked-on dirt, tracked in from the soles of some samurai’s septa, that you would diligently scrub from flooring or a courtesan’s stained bedding that you would launder. You had a legitimate role to play now, and it was one you would have never chosen by your own accord.
Be it Lady Nene or Lord Sukuna, whoever held your contract was irrelevant. It would just be a different breed of misery and would constrict you all the same. However, you would not be afforded the luxury of allowing your tears to fall, so you would force them back down, just as you always had.
You lacked any details, but you knew now that the former oiran had tried to ensure you would not end up in a similar position to hers, though now it was all futile. Forced to slave the entirety of your life away and robbed of any sense of self, only to end up in the hands of some wealthy lord as his personal plaything. It was an unforgiving cycle — one that did not begin with her and certainly one that would not end with you.
At some point a soft knock against your door made itself known, and you were rising to your feet swiftly. As you slid it open, the blonde servant girl you had spotted in the hallways earlier appeared. Her head was politely tucked down, eyes never leaving the floor.
“Master Sukuna has demanded your presence.”
“Please lead me to him.” The words burned as they left you, but you somehow managed to keep them from cracking.
The servant turned around, leading down the halls in the opposite direction from which you entered earlier. Her gaze remained planted downwards, and it was silent as you both rounded a corner, revealing a wide, wooden staircase. She ascended quickly, both hands lifting her kosode while your movements were far slower, allowing your fingertips to slide up the railing.
The second story resembled the portion of the first where your room was housed, and it wasn’t long until you were brought to another set of shoji doors. The girl you followed lifted her hand ready to knock, but it slid open before she had the opportunity. Immediately her legs folded beneath her as she bowed low to the ground. Uraume stood in the threshold, beckoning you in, and the second you were no longer in her care, the servant scurried off without another word.
A lengthy table stretched across the center of the room, and on the side opposite you sat the man who had bought you out. Four crimson eyes tore into you like claws, the intensity of his stare causing your breath to falter. Even now, with his cursed energy undetectable and sitting on the ground, he was still every bit intimidating. Whatever earlier thoughts you had about him not being as terrible as you had heard dissipated within an instant. One look at him now, up close and in the light, and you knew he was exactly the monster Lady Kana warned you of.
Should you displease him even once, it would be the last thing you ever did.
You heeded her advice and lowered yourself to the floor, providing a polite, proper bow befitting someone who was often referred to as a god. Normally one might greet him, but you weren’t quite sure what the rules here were yet, and speaking out of turn could spell trouble for you.
“Come,” was all he said. His resounding voice nearly felt like a mirror of the occasional thunder that still roared from the evening storm just outside.
You rose, shuffling over to the table, eyeing the empty black and gold embroidered cushion that rested directly across from him, stopping just before it.
“Sit.”
You sunk down as gracefully as you could, settling onto the cushion, back straight and arms crossed, but your eyes were firmly planted on the empty table rather than him. Footsteps could be heard making haste towards you both, a large blue and white porcelain plate being slid in front of Lord Sukuna containing a heaping pile of rare meat, still oozing blood from its cool red center.
You immediately stiffened at its arrival. Eating meat was not only rare throughout the nation but also banned. Consumption of it only came about for medicinal reasons, as it was occasionally used to treat certain ailments. Though by the way he slid the chunk of meat in his mouth, chewing eagerly with a satisfied hum, you knew this was not a one-time occurrence.
Was it a stag? Perhaps a mountain boar? Certainly not something as taboo as cattle.
Suddenly he was casting his gaze up at you as he shoved in another piece.
“Look at me, fully.”
He wore an identical outfit to the one he donned the night of your first meeting. That same black haori hung loosely across his shoulders, with his two lower arms leaning back to prop up his weight while the top two made quick work of devouring his meal.
No matter how strange or inconceivable his build was to you, the consequences of possibly offending him outweighed your curiosities, so you fought the overwhelming urge to allow your eyes to wander again, if even for a second, instead focusing on his face.
“Tell me, have you ever eaten meat?”
“No, my lord.” Your voice was remarkably small compared to his.
“Figured,” he responded as a plate was carefully set in front of you.
Steam wafted upwards, swirling up into your face, and you momentarily eyed the sustenance you had been provided. Thankfully, it was not meat awaiting you, but rather a thick piece of what appeared to be braised fish, accompanied by a small cup of miso soup and some sort of pickled vegetable. A pair of chopsticks stretched across the plate, and you sat still, looking back up to him, awaiting any sort of command that you could begin to indulge yourself.
He didn’t notice you at first. Instead, he seemed utterly absorbed by the shrinking pile of game before him. Eventually one of his lower eyes crept upwards, and finally he began speaking.
“What?” He barked out, his full gaze making its way back to you now. His voice was the loudest it had been since you met him. “Am I going to have to hold your hand through every little thing?”
It took everything in you not to jump back as his outburst aligned with a boisterous crack of thunder just outside the room.
“Eat your fucking food.”
Was that the cruelty Lady Kana had warned you of already peeking through? Though, it honestly didn’t stray too far from what you often witnessed from other men.
“Yes, my lord.” What you spoke was barely above a whisper as you moved to pick up the chopsticks.
A small piece of the fish slipped between your lips, and you chewed as neatly as you could muster. It was delicious, so much so that if perhaps you weren’t under the watchful eyes of Lord Sukuna, you likely would’ve gorged yourself. Next, you reached for the vegetable. You were unsure exactly what it was, but its sharp acidity was welcome all the same.
You looked back up to the man sitting across from you, only to be met with the sight of his freshly cleaned plate as he leaned forward onto one of his propped-up arms, cheek resting against his palm as all four of his eyes zeroed in on you.
Neither one of you broke the silent atmosphere for a bit. Your attention was split between him and your meal, but now with his gone, it seemed the only thing on his mind was you. The weight of his stare became far more immense as a tightness blossomed within your chest. Movements becoming stiffer and the taste of your food growing duller, you were increasingly unable to prevent your worries from spiraling.
Were you expected to already begin your duties?
“The night of our first meeting I found myself to be amused by you, albeit briefly, you were still amusing nonetheless. Yet here you sit, frightened and wide-eyed, refusing to so much as even flinch like some sort of fragile animal. If I wanted a pet, I’d go get a dog.”
“I apologize, my lord. It was never my intention to offend you.”
“And cease referring to me as such,” he responded, eyes briefly leaving you to greet the fresh plate Uraume had placed before him. “At least in private, that is. Your formalities are growing obnoxious already.”
You took in another spoonful of your miso soup, the utensil scraping against the bottom of the ceramic bowl as it was nearing its end. “As you wish.”
“Indulge me for a moment, girl, and tell me, if you could have anything at all in this world, what would it be?”
You paused, chopsticks stilling as they attempted to pick up a piece of the fish as you pondered his unexpected question. Just as you had told the former oiran a few evenings prior, you hadn’t thought about your own wants in a remarkably long time, as it was futile to dream up such things. What was the point of desire if it would never come to fruition? Though, none of that mattered due to the man before you that was awaiting an answer, and you knew better than to deny him one.
“I’m not entirely sure what it is that I would want. I try not to think of such nonsense,” you began, eyes holding his as the words left you cautiously. “However, perhaps I would like the freedom to choose for myself.”
“Freedom, huh?” Something akin to a chuckle escaped him. “Such is the life of a servant.”
“Such is the life of a woman.” The retort fell from your tongue before you could even process it, and your regret was immediate. His eyes narrowed for a second as you waited for his response, and that second might as well have been an eternity.
However, no anger or even annoyance came from him. Instead, it was a laugh. Not quite as loud as the one you had pulled from him when you met, but far heftier than his chuckle from just a few moments prior.
Did your quip amuse him?
What a strange thing. Any other man would have struck you by now for such insolence, but Lord Sukuna appeared to find it humorous.
His laughter faded and his face dropped slightly as he pulled another hunk of meat towards him. He held it in front of his lips, though he paused before they could touch the dripping hunk of animal flesh.
“I am going to take you as my bride.”
The chopsticks in your hand faltered, slipping from your grasp, and nearly collided with the table, but you caught them. You stared back at him, breath caught in your throat, unable to form a coherent reply.
It was far worse than you could have imagined. As if the thoughts of being his mistress had not been sickening enough, he did not want to simply use you for pleasure and toss you aside. No, he wanted you to take the place of his wife and become lady of his shrine. To fulfill any and all wifely duties he envisioned for you, whatever that hell may be.
Why had such a terrible fate befallen you of all people? Had you not endured enough and paid whatever price this world had demanded of you twice over by now?
He chewed crudely, swallowing his indulgence with ease. “You seem rather taken aback. Certainly you had enough common sense to know I wouldn’t drag you all the way out here to partake in servitude.”
“No, I did not think that. However, I assumed incorrectly and thought you must already be married, and I would likely serve as a mistress or concubine.”
“You really haven’t a clue who you’re sitting before, do you?”
You stared at him blankly, setting down the utensils neatly, any appetite you had now long gone. “No, I do not.”
“Some may consider you lucky in that manner.” He lifted the final bite of his dinner, though he did not bring it to where one would expect. The maw on his stomach opened fully, sharp canines matching the ones on his face glimmered brightly as you sat, watching in dismay, as a monstrous tongue rolled out from the cavity, wrapping itself around the roasted meat before crawling back into its confines. “To be so sheltered and not have witnessed the full horrors this world has to offer.”
Sukuna rose to his feet, rounding the table and making his way towards you. You took that as a cue to stand yourself, but before you could do so, he was grabbing onto your arm, yanking you upwards. He was far from gentle, much like the previous time he had touched you. Despite this, you could tell the ache in your arm from his grip was not his intention.
His hand slid down your forearm, soon engulfing your own. Warm, calloused fingertips rested against the back of your hand as he leaned down closer to you, and it took all your strength not to recoil at the new contact. “Do you know what a binding vow is?”
You shook your head slightly, your chest still tight from the revelation you’d soon be this man’s wife, and your body still fighting the urge to retreat from the close proximity you shared with one another.
“They’re one of the cornerstones of jujutsu sorcery. You can form them with either yourself or others, but doing so with others is far more complex. In sorcery, there must be balance. It is the natural order of things. In order to fully take, one must give something up. Both humans and intelligent curses alike can invoke binding vows, as they involve one’s cursed energy and soul. I would like to propose that you and I form one together.”
His hand shifted, and his thumb began to slink upwards, carefully tracing upwards from your palm to the tip of your index finger. “I have no desire to take a wife. However, I find myself in a situation where I need one. If you agree to marry me and do so with no impediments, then in return, whenever my use for you has passed, I will give you what you want and set you free. This vow is one that is unbreakable, and should I fail to keep my word, I will suffer terrible consequences. The same goes for you.”
The weight in your chest began to ease slightly with a gleam growing in your eyes that could only be described as hope. “Do you mean that?”
“Every word. Once you complete what I need you to, you’re free to go wherever you please. Run and hide away in some rural village, living off the land. Return to a pleasure house and serve as a courtesan rather than a servant. Sell yourself off to some wealthy business owner and live a comfortable life as his mistress. It’s irrelevant to me what you choose once your end of the deal has reached completion.”
The freedom to choose what to do with one’s life. Such a thing was unheard of. When was the last time a woman, a servant nonetheless, was given such an opportunity? Any path you desired to take at all, and Sukuna would allow it. He would cut the chains that bound you and set you free, allowing you to take your own life back. There would be no physical servitude, nor would you be forced to serve a man. You would be a fool to not agree to the terms he’s offered you.
But why would he even offer such a thing to you? Realistically it made no sense.
“You look concerned rather than pleased by my proposition.”
“I— I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure I follow. You could easily force me into a marriage, and there’s not a soul alive who could object, especially I. Why go to all this trouble?”
“Because it is none. You mean nothing to me, and turning you loose costs nothing. However, forcing you to cooperate would be far more of a headache in comparison. I want this to go smoothly with no hiccups, meaning you do what I say without a single complaint.” He moved in closer, his breath ricocheting off your ear. “Now, do you agree to our little vow?”
You swallowed harshly before nodding your head. “Yes.”
He squeezed your hand once before straightening up, eyes focused on you. “Good. We will wed in two weeks time.”
I loved the new fic sweetest sin. All your fic ideas are so original. Also cannot wait for sanguine chapter 19
thank you so much!! i’m so happy people are enjoying the new fic. and also im so sorry i haven’t gotten chap 19 out yet! i wanted to have it out last week but i got sick and honestly i felt so bad, i couldn’t even bring myself to write. i literally just laid there in my misery. i’m feel a lot better now though and will continue to work on it (as well as sweetest sin) and try to have them both out asap!! thank u again!! <33
a/n: the thought wouldn’t leave me alone lmaoooo. wrote this during my lunch break so it’s kinda rushed, sorry!
“Are you sure it’s not burning you?”
Choso only sighs into the towel, keeping his face hidden away as you carefully apply bleach to the roots of his hair.
“I’m sure, baby,” he replies, voice muffled. “It’s just itchy,” he adds.
Satisfied that you weren’t harming your boyfriend, you make deft work in adding the final bits of bleach.
The shocking image of his once inky black hair now a startlingly blond. It had taken you an entire week and endless puppy eyes to make Choso cave in and agree to let you give him ghost roots.
You could already see it now; deep red etched through his dark locks, catching glimpses of it when you’d run your fingers through them.
“Babe, you’re giggling” Choso notes with a teasing tone. You blink and shake your head, despite one more giggle leaving your lips.
“Nuh uh,” you hum back, jutting out a tongue at the back of his head. The only sound that leaves Choso is a scoff, but even then, you can hear the smile in it.
Hours later, you’re gazing at your masterpiece.
Choso tilts his head side to side, his eyes tracing over his reflection as his finders brush his hair back, exposing the freshly dyed red roots, then letting his locks fall back to his shoulders, hiding them. He repeats this several times before you laugh and tug him over.
“Told ya,” you say cheekily, playfully tugging at the end of his hair. “They look amazing, you look amazing.”
A sheepish look crosses his usually impassive face, his dark eyes darting away as a slow but fond smile comes to his lips. “Guess you were right…” he admits quietly.
While you would have happily gloated, you took your victory in settling on the bathroom counter before him, and slowly card your fingers through his hair. “We should do green next.”
Synopsis: Somewhere beyond the fine, plush silks of the Imperial Court and the brilliant, glimmering lights of the pleasure district lies something dangerous — a calamity. Always lurking and observing, he plots while hidden away in darkness. But what could he possibly have planned that requires him to take in a lowly servant such as yourself?
Series Masterlist
CW: Misogyny, Sex work/brothels, references to gender-based violence, brief references to child abuse.
The unforgiving aroma of tobacco lingered throughout the vast, dimly lit hallways. Occasionally, a hint of something sickly sweet and floral would waft through as well, though it was few and far between. Hushed, feminine laughter could be heard echoing from behind the closed screen you shuffled passed, immediately followed by a deep, husky whisper you couldn’t quite make out.
You continued forward, fresh water sloshing against the sides of the iron pail you gripped tightly, while a damp rag hung limp in your opposite hand. The oak panel flooring felt never-ending as it led you deeper into the building. In this corner of the property, the hallways were a maze, housing dozens of rooms, each serving as a different space for the lower-rank courtesans to entertain. More laughter ensued, this time from a different woman, and just a few rooms down, you heard low, poorly stifled groans, undoubtedly belonging to a customer. A samurai, or a business owner most likely, you presumed.
The pleasure house in which you worked was one of the most prestigious throughout the entire nation. Even the lowest-ranking women cost a year’s salary for just one night — and even then, pleasure was never guaranteed to the buyers. The higher-ranking women, including the oiran herself, were so costly that only the wealthiest men could even dream of getting a single glance. They often found themselves in the hands of either royalty or shoguns.
A stain, reflecting nearby lantern light, caught your eye, and your feet stalled out, knees folding beneath you until they were flush against the cold floor. Without another thought, your hand was dipping the rag into the bucket, and soon both of them moved to wring it out. Once the excess water was free from the fabric, you scrubbed at the ground before you gingerly. The sticky, tacked-on substance — most likely spilled sake judging by the shape — came free, and soon you were rising to your feet once more, sulking back down the hallways.
Time crawled on as you repeated the motion more times than you could count. Occasionally the hem of a silk kimono would float past, grazing against the floors you diligently cleaned. The men paid you no mind as they weaved in and out throughout the evening, stepping over you like you were nothing more than a cockroach in their path. You reached back towards the bucket, ready to wipe up dirt that a patron had unknowingly tracked in by the rear entrance when suddenly a firm hand gripped your wrist.
You were yanked to your feet, an ache spreading throughout your shoulder and arm as you struggled to regain your balance, the rag coming with you, splattering the now-dirty water along the wall. Your eyes were met by two harsh ones, and a pair of lips pressed into a straight line. The man, one of the pleasure house’s attendants who ensured daily operations ran smoothly, offered up one singular, simple demand.
“The oiran has requested you by name. Go now, with haste.”
With a polite bow of your head, you set the fabric down next to the bucket and were quick to oblige. The sound of a new servant approaching the accidental mess you were forced to leave behind could be heard as you slid open the shoji doors and stepped onto the veranda.
Well-kept, sprawling green gardens sprawled out before you as the moon had begun to inch up into the night’s sky. The breeze carried with it a chill, and it served as a stark reminder that autumn would soon be arriving. Not that it mattered. You were allowed no life beyond the walls of the compound, even prohibited from venturing to food stalls or simply strolling under the glimmering lights of the pleasure district that often called to you like a whisper on the wind from the sole window near the servants’ quarters. The only bearing the seasons held on you was watching the gardens dull, and it would be foolish to pretend otherwise.
Your yukata’s hem trailed across the grass, dampening tremendously from the dew it held. However, you paid it little mind. It was servant’s attire, already plain and worn-in, littered with so many stains you would fail to name from which occasion they appeared. A male’s boisterous laugh rang out, echoing throughout the open air from a table in the far-back corner. You could see the back of his topknot, and as your eyes slipped past him, you saw the woman he was visiting. Lady Hiina was her name, one of the highest-ranked courtesans, second only to the oiran who had just summoned you. She was a remarkable woman, a beauty that could bring any nobleman to his knees. Her bright smile gleamed in the moonlight behind her red-hued lips as you watched her move something in front of her. A Shogi piece you presumed, since she was known to be a brilliant player.
You kept your head low as you walked by, eyes not daring to lift from your own feet. However, out of the edge of your periphery, you managed to score a look at the man, and if you weren’t mistaken, he was a prominent member of the Itō clan. Once you had long passed them, carefully not to disturb their evening, your gaze rose up to the building situated in the back of the gardens, which held the three highest women of the house.
The doors slid open with ease, and you turned left, soon finding yourself faced with another pair. You sank down, knees on the ground, head low as you called out, “Lady Kana.”
“Come in,” a gentle voice responded as you moved to push open her room’s door.
Head still tucked to the ground a moment longer as a sign of respect, you scurried in, gaze still fixated on the floor, waiting for permission to let it rise once more.
“Thank you for coming on short notice. My attendant has suddenly fallen ill, and I was hoping you’d be available to assist me with my hair.”
You did not know Lady Kana well. In fact, you — among the other common servants — were rarely allowed to venture around the pleasure house’s star earners. However, a moment from just a few months prior filled your mind: whenever a nasty virus had spread through the house’s ranks, and you were one of the few unaffected. You had been assigned to bathe and dress Lady Kana for a handful of days.
She must have recalled your diligence and chosen you for assistance. A feeling of pride swelled within you for just a moment. For a woman of such high standing to remember you and request your return was no small feat, and perhaps should she take a liking to you in particular, you could eventually be moved to be one of her personal attendants.
“It would be my pleasure, my lady.” Your head bowed in a sign of respect once more before looking at her fully. Long, onyx hair still slightly damp from a bath ran straight down to her lower back while her supple, glowing skin remained bare-faced. She was a sight to see, even in her bath robes. You had heard men say she was one of the most beautiful women in all of Japan, and though you had never actually left the compound and seen other women, you still felt compelled to believe them.
“That makes me glad,” she replied, her honeyed eyes radiating with joy as she ushered you over, lazily gesturing at her combs. “I have no patrons tonight, so nothing too elaborate is needed.”
You offered a small nod in understanding, lifting up a bamboo comb, bringing it to the ends of her strands. As carefully as you could muster, you began to slowly run the comb through bit by bit, and her hair was like silk, even still wet and unbrushed, not a single knot had formed. Regardless, you continued in your cautious movements, doubling down to ensure everything would be perfect before styling. She sat in silence, humming a harmonious tune throughout the motions.
“My lady, how would you prefer your hair styled?”
A giggle escaped her as she turned to look back at you. “Please, surprise me.”
You were thankful she turned forward once more, unable to bear witness to the grimace that carved itself onto your face as anxiety took root. Lady Kana was kind-hearted, though you did not know her well, and feared one wrong misstep would spell trouble for you. Hopefully that worry would not come to fruition, and she was genuine in her request. Surely she knew that as a servant you had no sense of style — or even individuality for that matter.
Slowly you molded her hair upwards, ensuring not a single strand popped out of place as you wrapped it around itself into a loose knot, your eyes scanning the counter until they landed upon a stack of hairpins. You leaned over towards the stack, one hand reaching for the pins while the other held her hair taut in place. Wrapping your fingers around a golden hair stick, you tugged it towards you, the bright jade embellishments that hung from it swinging wildly.
You tucked the hair pin into place, and it held the knot firm as you reached forward, loosening a few strands to fall gently around her face, framing it like she was a work of art to behold.
Stepping back, you tucked your hands tightly behind you, gaze lowering to the ground as you awaited her to check it before you could be dismissed. A short silence followed as a hand mirror scraped across the tabletop.
“It’s simple and just perfect for my evening.”
It wasn’t until then that you realized you had been holding your breath and let the soft exhale you clung to release. “That pleases me greatly, Lady Kana.”
“Before you leave, I’d appreciate it if you could help with my make-up as well. Just a simple powder, if you don’t mind.”
You nodded as she pointed towards where her make-up stash sat, holding in the chuckle you felt brewing within you. Truthfully, you didn’t mind. You’d much rather attend to Lady Kana’s needs than scrub spilt wine and mud from flooring or launder the courtesans’ beddings. But even if you did, you’d never be allowed to voice such a grievance. Women like you were not allowed a say in their duties, especially not with someone like her, who was in an entirely different class.
You picked up the slender container, placing the round tin in the palm of your hand. Grabbing the brush that sat adjacent to it, you dotted it into the container, the white powder thoroughly coating each individual bristle before allowing it to coat the oiran’s face. It took no time at all to complete the powdering she had asked for, and should she not require any red on her lips or the blackening of her eyebrows, you would return to your usual duties.
“Splendid,” she nodded, the corners of her lips quirking upward into a soft smile. “That’s all for tonight. Lady Nene had summoned me in the main building right before I called for you. I had no desire to show up unkempt. Retire to your quarters for the evening, and I will mention to Lady Nene that it was a direct order from me.”
You bowed your head again, mumbling, “Thank you, Lady Kana.”
Lady Nene was the madam of the pleasure house, and while not the actual owner, she directly oversaw every aspect of the business from funds to the actual entertaining her girls did. As a former oiran herself, she held invaluable knowledge of the trade, and without her, the brothel would likely have never achieved the renowned reputation it currently carried. An abrasive, older woman, somewhere in her sixties or seventies, had kept the place running smoothly for at least three decades. Every employee, no matter a servant or a courtesan, answered to her and her only. She offered little to no leniency, especially for the servants, though she did often listen to the higher-ranking women, and you knew Lady Kana’s order would hold weight with her.
You made yourself scarce and soon found yourself back in the gardens. Lady Hiina and the Itō man were both long gone, likely ending up in a private room, leaving you to be the only person out at this time of night. The cobblestone path wound underneath your feet as you dropped to a far more leisurely pace, knowing no prying eyes could find their way to you. The last time you had a moment of rest was nothing more than a distant memory, many years past. Relaxation was something not afforded to your kind, and if Lady Kana was generous enough to allow it to you, then it would not go to waste.
Regardless of the rare moment, you couldn’t help but feel a slight unease. The wind had changed direction, now blowing in from the north fully, stronger and with a much colder bite. Thick clouds had begun to set in, shielding the heavens from those below. The moon in all its fullness was now only partially visible behind the grey canopy.
A shame.
Perhaps one of the only nights of your life when nothing would be demanded of you, and you couldn’t even stargaze.
Despite your slowed pace, the main building was rapidly approaching, and with it, you’d soon be back in the servants’ quarters. As your feet climbed the steps up to the veranda, your fingers lingered on the wooden railing, and you gave the shy moon one final parting glance. Maybe if you were lucky, you’d have another night like this soon, but instead, you would be blessed with clear skies.
As the doors slid open, your eyes adjusted back to dim, orange-hued lights you had grown far too used to, and you automatically dipped your head down, hands politely clasped at your front. Voices all blended together as you traversed through the web of halls, and one of your fingers — thankfully well hidden in the palm of your hand — began to nervously tap. The smoke had grown far more dense, and with it, everything started to feel more constricting.
Your eyes, focused intently on the ground, watched as traffic weaved by. The occasional silk hem, ornate and luxurious, would pass by, though mostly it was either an inebriated, wealthy patron or a timid servant with their head tucked much like yours that you came across.
A screen to your right slammed open with vigor, and though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but sneak a quick peek. A bright blue kimono, sleek and pressed to perfection, with not a single inch of fabric ruffled, rounded the corner into the main hallway. Intricate golden flowers embroidered on the collar framed what was the saddest face these walls have likely ever known. You held her gaze for only a fraction of a second before you forced yourself to look down at your own feet once more.
The former oiran.
Capturing the hearts of everyone from military generals to the highest ranks of the Imperial courts, it was said no man or woman was safe from her charm. She had truly been the most coveted woman in the nation, and though there had been a few more oirans step up since her days, the whispers say people all over the country still mourn the loss of her.
She was to be bought out soon, her contract recently paid in full by an aging samurai who had spent his life savings to free her from the brothel. He was a kind man, or so you had heard, though the life she would live would be far from the one of luxury she had all those years prior. Despite being the lowest-ranked courtesan now, she still cost a pretty penny due to debts she had racked up with the brothel. He truly had given every last dime for her.
Though, it was far better than anyone in her position could’ve ever hoped for. Most women who have such a public fall from grace are not awarded such. With a stained and sordid past, she was just lucky to not end up on the streets, plagued by poverty.
Tonight would likely be the last you ever saw her. You hadn’t spoken to her much, in fact, only three times, over the course of your entire life. It had been forbidden, and any missteps on your behalf were harshly punished by Lady Nene, no matter your age. Somewhere inside you, it still stung to some degree. That mild ache in your chest, which no matter how hard you’ve tried to push down, had been present as long as you could remember, but tonight at the final sight of her, it blossomed into something far more painful — something you could no longer ignore.
She would move on and live an honest, simple life with some decorated, retired samurai in the countryside. She’d trade her finest silks for worn linens and fresh sushi for root vegetables. Perhaps she’d garden, chunks of earth wedged underneath what used to be freshly manicured nails. She might learn to love it or maybe she’d just spend the rest of her days in a hateful, miserable daze, mourning the life that had been stolen from her.
Regardless of the outcome, her fate remained sealed. She’d be allowed to leave while you would be planted here, scrubbing flooring until the day you die. It was the price she paid for bringing a child into this scornful world, but somehow you were always the one who bore the brunt of it.
The vivid blue fabric was gone, and soon, so were you. In the front left corner of the building, tucked away from all the luxuries and sins, sat the servant quarters. It was a handful of small rooms, all shared by dozens of workers. None of you were allowed personal belongings beyond the clothes you wore and soap for bathing. It was nothing more than a place for all of you to lay your heads. Plain tatami rooms and scraps for bedding were all that awaited you.
The women who had been assigned the day shift were already asleep by the time you filed in, quietly changing into a fresher yukata. Grabbing a blanket from the pile in the corner, you settled down. Your eyes fluttered shut, and your body stilled, but sleep still wouldn’t claim you. That pain in your chest remained as sorrow coursed through your veins. You tried to still your mind, but the more you fought, the deeper its claws sunk in.
You were uncertain how much time had passed. It could’ve been mere minutes or multiple hours you laid there, eyes focused on the ceiling as you accepted there would just simply be no rest for you tonight. Thoughts of that blue and gold kimono refused to let go of you.
At some point, the quiet atmosphere broke. The soft, rhythmic breathing of the girls around you was soon replaced by urgent footfall outside the screens. Feet stamping off in what seemed like a rush, and hushed whispers you couldn’t make out no matter how hard you tried filled the hallway outside, managing to wake a few of the sleeping servants by your sides.
Curiosity got the best of you as you crawled over on your knees, your ear firmly planting itself against the door. The voices sounded frantic, though the subject of their frenzy was still a mystery as you failed to make out any of the words.
One of the other girls, Mimi, opened her mouth, likely to inquire, though before a single syllable had been allowed to escape, you were raising your index finger to your lips in a silent signal. She obliged, and you continued your pursuit of the culprit behind whatever was stirring beyond the wall.
Suddenly, you felt it.
Breath hitching in your throat, your eyes flew wide open, jaw going slack.
It was overwhelming and unmistakable. Something dark, spreading across your body like an early morning’s mist, cloaking you in your entirety. A slight tremor appeared in your hands, and unfortunately for you, your fear was now noticeable to the others.
Cursed energy.
“What is it?” Mimi hissed, her voice no more than a whisper.
One of the three times in your life that the former oiran had spoken to you, you were no more than five. You had done something accidentally that one of the older servants had witnessed. Too young to recall exactly what occurred, all you knew was that Lady Nene had dragged you off by your ear to her private quarters after the fact, and the disgraced oiran had spoken to you briefly. It was the single time your interaction had been approved by the house’s madam.
She warned you of cursed energy and all that became of it, spirits and sorcerers alike. Few people in the world were gifted with the ability to wield it, and it was imperative that it remained a secret. Thus, you had been forbidden from both using it and speaking of it with others. You had encountered a cursed spirit before. It wasn’t exactly unheard of in a place that brimmed with melancholy such as pleasure districts.
And you had seen sorcerers before. It wasn’t uncommon for certain clans to visit. The others chalked them up to nothing more than wealthy men and feudal lords, though you knew what they were in actuality.
What you felt now, though, was unlike anything else. It was not akin to any spirit or sorcerer you had ever encountered before.
It was all-consuming, like in that moment there was nothing else.
And within an instant, it was gone just as quick as it arrived.
You regained your composure quickly, tossing a glance over to the girls before whispering, “It’s nothing. Let’s just go back to bed.”
There was no time to move before the door was flying open. The motion was so violent, you were surprised it remained on its track. A hand, unyielding, was yanking you to your feet, while three more men filed in, doing the same to the other servants.
Gasps with small shrieks of surprise filled the room, but no noises of protest were made. You didn’t understand what was happening. Those men worked for the brothel the same as you. Many in the form of security. They had no reason to treat any of you in such a manner, but regardless, they still held authority over you. If not in rank, then solely in the fact they were men. It was not your place to outwardly question it.
“All of you to the gardens now.” A familiar voice said. The man from earlier, his hand now wrapped around Mimi’s arm before shoving her in the direction of the doors. “And if you’re smart, keep your heads down.”
You weren’t sure what was going on, but you did not dare to lift your head in hopes of finding out and imagined the other girls felt much the same. More men ran down adjacent hallways as you were ushered through. They slammed doors open, presumably combing for more servants.
Your nerves continued to climb as the open air kissed your skin, but it wasn’t until you saw lines of courtesans, all on their knees, foreheads pressed firm into the grass, that you realized something was terribly wrong. One after another in succession, still as stones, and if it weren’t for the occasional sound of a ragged breath, you might have assumed they were lifeless.
It was one thing for a servant to be forced into this indecorous situation, but the ladies of the pleasure house? Nothing was making sense.
Nervousness began blossoming into actual fear as the man leading you came to a halt, and with the sudden standstill, you took heed of his advice, collapsing to the ground below. One by one, you could hear the girls behind you fall into their kneels, and a striking silence overtook the atmosphere.
You squeezed your eyes shut. Even bearing the sight of the green blades beneath your bowed head proved to be too much. The stillness on its own was nearly unendurable, but the quietness felt absolutely hellish. The minutes passed, and whether it was two or twenty, you could not tell. They dragged on, every single agonizing second leaving you in the dark to what you and the courtyard full of women were facing.
“Is this all of them?” A sonorous voice asked.
You didn’t recognize it. Cold and detached, devoid of any emotion at all. No matter how much you racked your brain, you couldn’t pair a face to the sound. Though by the tone it took on, it only exacerbated your terror.
“This is all of them. Every last woman that resides here,” Lady Nene stated. Her voice was even, though something undecipherable wove through it slightly.
Your breath caught in your throat for just a moment before you had to remind yourself to take another in and hold it steady. She was involved somehow; of course she was. Nothing ever happened at the pleasure house without it being under her watchful eye, so it should come as no surprise. But what was that in her voice you couldn’t make out?
Heavy footfall began, many rows ahead of where you were planted, and it remained the only sound the night harbored. With every single step, you could feel it once more: sparks of that raw, explosive cursed energy. However, thankfully, it was less intense than the burst you had felt earlier.
It belonged to the strange man who spoke with Lady Nene. Was he a sorcerer?
Did he orchestrate all of this?
The seconds felt like a millennia the way he strolled, and while you couldn’t see it with your own eyes, you imagined it was leisurely, without a hurry or care in the world. He grew closer, and with it, so did the hum of his energy. You knew the other girls were frightened by the evening’s sudden events. Anyone in their right mind would be. But, without the ability to observe cursed energy, how did they perceive the being who had demanded the appearance of every woman in the house, lining them up like nothing more than livestock in a market?
As the sound drew nearer, you felt your pulse quicken, and it felt like all the coolness of the evening’s air had been sucked from it, a light, sweaty sheen forming across your skin underneath your yukata. You tried not to focus on it, telling yourself it was all insignificant, as he would simply just pass you by in his inspection of the brothel’s women, and nothing bad would come from the situation. His intention was not stated, though it didn’t need be. There was only ever one reason men stumbled into the pleasure district.
He’d finish his scrutinization, likely end up plucking Lady Kana or Lady Hiina for his evening affairs, and you would be on your way back to the servants’ quarters, where you’d hopefully remain uninterrupted for the rest of the night. It was the most logical outcome, and the rational part of your brain knew it to be true. But that staggering, unthinkable cursed energy that radiated from him, even in the minuscule amounts now, would not allow you even a second of peace until you were behind closed doors once more.
Your eyes remained closed as you somehow managed to hold your breath, and you heard the faceless sorcerer turn down your row. He continued at his pace, the cursed energy he emitted causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as it grew closer than you had ever experienced before. The man was only a handful of women away from you now, and you took in one final breath, far deeper than any of your previous, waiting to exhale as soon as he passed. However, your idea was out the window as his heavy strides came to a screeching halt right in front of you.
No.
“Lift your head.”
Dozens upon dozens of beautiful, remarkable women with their immaculate, adorned up-dos and perfectly painted makeup, clad in the most luxurious fabrics money could buy, and trained not only in the art of pleasure but in entertaining as well were laid out before him, and for some terrible, unknown reason, the man leaking what was the most terrifying energy one could possibly know had to stop in front of you. A plain servant, and nothing more.
Perhaps when you lift your head, he will realize what a terrible mistake he’s made.
Your forehead, still crammed into the grass, slowly began to lift, and you allowed your eyes to flutter open. Feet, massive and bare against the ground, faced you. The sight began to morph into a loose, white pair of pants that hung effortlessly from his lower body. You suddenly decided to go ahead and just rip the bandage off. Forfeiting your chin’s slow climb, you instead threw your head back all at once, and the sight that awaited you was unlike anything you could have imagined.
He had the body and face of a curse, but he was still somehow unmistakably human.
Four, intense crimson eyes glared down at you. Two of them, much larger than the others, rested atop what looked like a thickened and darkened patch of flesh that protruded from the side of his face. Thick, blush-hued strands were tousled back, catching in the brisk breeze. Intricate obsidian tattoos decorated not only his hardened expression but also snaked their way down his body, peeking through the edges of the black haori he donned and wrapping over his shoulders, spilling down his bare chest. Four, muscular arms protruded from his expansive torso. The bottom two hung lazily by his side while the top two were crossed tightly right above a sizable maw that stretched across the center of his abdomen.
You stared up at the man before you, your expression a mixture of both fear and astonishment — like he was some sort of inconceivable being. And he met your eyes, peering down at you on your knees like everyone else always did. As if you were some worthless insect whose purpose was nothing more than to be trampled upon.
“I’ll take this one. Everyone else leave, now.”
“Lord Sukuna, forgive me,” Lady Nene began, nervousness finally beginning to pierce through her usual unforgiving cadence. “She is one of our servants. A simple-minded one at that. She can neither read nor write and has never served a man. I would hate for you to find yourself unsatisfied at the end of your evening.”
Sukuna. Is that his name?
Whatever spell of trepidation the sight of Sukuna held on you broke briefly enough for you to shift your gaze past him, over to where Lady Nene stood. Her silver hair was pulled taut into its usual bun, not a single piece out of place, while her unassuming, cream-colored robes popped against the vibrant backdrop of the gardens. Her forehead creased, a deep line formed in between her brows, and the corners of her mouth dipped downwards slightly. It appeared to be a look of worry more so than anything else and was likely the only time you had witnessed her face be anything other than a cruel scowl.
Directly behind her stood Lady Kana, Lady Hiina, and Lady Hisa, the three most esteemed women the pleasure house had to offer, hands held firmly at the front, faces attempting to remain straight, though their fear was as thinly veiled as yours.
“May I suggest Miss Kana for the evening? I can assure you that she will leave you wanting for nothing.”
You watched as Lady Kana’s face morphed into absolute horror at the thought. You both sympathized with her and found yourself silently praying that he would heed the madam’s advice. That thought, however, was short-lived as he was soon speaking again.
“I will not repeat myself.”
Lady Nene swallowed harshly, turning her attention to the still-kneeling women around you and began barking out an order to leave while you moved yours back onto him.
“Stand,” was all he said to you.
So you did, without hesitation. Shifting your weight to your feet, you rose on shaky legs, knees threatening to buckle, but somehow, you managed to keep yourself upright.
One of his lower hands reached out, gripping you by your chin, calloused fingers digging into either side as he tilted it upwards slightly. It hurt, though not unbearable. You didn’t think he was attempting to inflict any pain on you; rather, it just seemed he carried no concern about whether he was gentle or not.
He leaned down slightly, his eyes narrowing, scanning every inch of your face as they moved from side to side, and once more, you were having to remind yourself to breathe.
You could sense all the women in the garden rise up. Some scurried away with their heads down in hopes of not attracting any attention. Others stared wide-eyed, mouths agape, in sheer terror at the colossal man who held you tightly in his grasp.
“You’ll have this one delivered to me in three days’ time,” he spoke to Lady Nene, though his eyes still bore into you.
You took in a small gasp as whatever weak hold you had on your composure began to falter further. The thought of him taking you for the night was petrifying enough on its own, but this was no late-night tryst he was seeking — no, the way he spoke sounded like he wanted to buy out your contract.
Why?
Why did he have to pick you?
You’d go without a fuss. Not a single objection would fall from your lips as you were drug off. That wasn’t what you desired in the slightest, but the decision was not yours. It never had been, nor ever would be.
“You shouldn’t take her,” a familiar voice spoke. You swallowed harshly at the sound, and everyone who hadn’t already taken their leave immediately froze in place at the sudden protests. “She is untrained and will be unable to satisfy anyone. Please take me instead.”
His glare peeled from you within an instant, hand dropping from your chin as he swung to the side. You followed suit, finding that same blue and gold kimono from earlier approaching the two of you.
The former oiran.
Why was she being so foolish? After all this time, she had been freed from the pleasure house and from the detestable mistakes she had previously made that still hung over her more than two decades later, so for what reason would she ever risk such a thing? Certainly she knew it would change nothing.
“You’re her mother,” he said. The way he spoke was matter-of-fact with not an ounce of doubt to be found anywhere in his statement.
Her feet came to a halt and her body grew rigid as an uncomfortable expression overwrote her features.
The man briefly peered over to Lady Nene. “Three days, and not a second past sunset. It’s a little over a two-day ride to my shrine, so I suggest leaving before night’s end to ensure prompt arrival. Should any issue arise and she not be there as we’ve agreed on, I will return and slaughter one person for every minute that she was late.” He paused, moving his ruby eyes back to yours. “And should you try to run, you and your mother will take the punishment together. Do you understand?”
Somehow you managed to find a sliver of courage. “My lord, may I speak freely?”
You could see the former oiran grimace as if you had somehow done something worse than what she had just attempted.
The corner of his lip twitched mildly, almost as if it were threatening to turn up into a grin. “Proceed.”
“There is no reason for threats, my lord. From the moment you made your demands known, I decided I would not protest but rather follow them without any complaints.”
“Oh? And why is that you’re so willing to join me?”
“Because it does not matter. No matter who is holding the keys, a cage will always be a cage.”
His head tilted back, and an echoing laugh escaped from deep within his chest. “That old hag is a fool for locking you away to scrub up others’ filth. Some drunk, self-proclaimed philosopher would’ve had the time of his life with you and likely would’ve paid a pretty price too.”
For some reason you felt small, having to resist the urge to shrink back, but before anything else could come of the conversation, he was moving away and closing in on Lady Nene.
“Make sure you clean her up before sending her to me. I will not tolerate such disrespect.”
She looked forward, unable to make direct eye contact with him. “And what of payment?”
He leaned towards her and hissed, “Your lives are my payment.”
And he was gone within the blink of an eye, no remnants of him left behind.
The garden had grown largely empty. Most of the women had escaped during the exchange with Lady Nene and the man you presumed to be Lord Sukuna. Things remained eerily quiet once he left, as if he had completely sucked the life out of the space. Even the wind itself had simmered down.
Soft fingers wrapped themselves around your arm, tugging lightly. Lady Kana’s golden eyes had softened significantly as she urged you to follow her. “Come. You can use our private bath before you leave.”
A small kindness on her behalf before you were forced into some unknown hell. You knew her, and likely everyone else was just relieved they hadn’t been the unfortunate soul to be picked, and you couldn’t fault them as you’d feel the same.
You allowed her to pull you, but your eyes moved back to the spot where the man had been.
What use could that sorcerer possibly hold for you?
He gave nothing of monetary value in exchange for your contract. With money not being an issue, he could’ve chosen any woman in the courtyard tonight. If he wanted beauty, he would’ve picked Lady Kana or Hiina, perhaps even Lady Hisa. If he sought only pleasure, there was an array of women who had dedicated their lives to performing the act.
Was it your cursed energy?
Could he sense it?
Soon slick, dampened wood could be felt underfoot as a dense cloud of steam enveloped you. The air was thick, carrying the overwhelming scents of rose oil and citrus. You stared at the large tub, full of pristine, clear water, as there was a soft tug on your yukata.
Your eyes moved to meet Lady Kana’s, and you struggled to find the words you needed, rather just shaking your head. The fabric quietly hit the ground beneath you as you stepped into the tub. Hot water lapped at your ankles, then calves, as you slowly descended, and you reluctantly embraced its warmth against your flesh. The baths servants were allowed were either room temperature or cold depending on the season, and for that reason, as long as you had been alive, you had never known such a luxury.
It was a foreign sensation, though a divine one. So much so that you nearly forgot the harrowing situation you were suddenly entangled in and the frightening, strange man that was its architect.
You heard the water splash lightly as a piece of fabric was submerged in it, a pair of dainty, manicured hands gripping it tight before wringing it out. They moved to bring it towards you, though somehow you managed to find your voice.
“Lady Kana, you shouldn’t. Such an act is beneath you.” Your voice was small as you attempted to pull the rag from her, though she wouldn’t relent.
“It is a direct order. Do not defy me.” There was no bite in her tone as she knelt down, once more trying to wipe at your skin. However, this time she managed to make contact. “He will want you up to his standards; of that much I’m certain.”
“Do you know him, my lady?”
The room grew silent as she continued to scrub at you, occasionally dipping the towel back in for fresh water. She was far more taciturn than you had ever known her to be, and that alone spoke the words she didn’t. Something in her refusal to acknowledge that question immediately didn’t settle right with you, and you knew then you wouldn’t like her answer.
It wasn’t until she had finished wiping you down and began rubbing the soap into your scalp that she finally responded.
“No, but I know of him.”
“And what of him?”
Her hands stilled as you heard her harshly swallow. “His name is Ryomen Sukuna. They say he’s a god amongst men, and in some places, he’s even worshipped as such. You’ll likely see this at some point.”
“But you don’t believe that?”
“No, he is not a deity. He is nothing more than a sorcerer. A remarkably strong one, but do not be fooled. He is as human as you and I.”
You took in a faint gasp, angling your face towards her. “You know of sorcerers?”
Such a knowledge was forbidden to most, or so you had always thought. Why would Lady Kana know of sorcery?
“There is more to this place than you realize.” After gently forcing your head back forward, she began to move her fingertips again, eagerly massaging into your hair and ensuring not a single spot was missed. “Now tilt back so I can rinse.”
You listened to her command and allowed any further questions on the topic of sorcerers to die on your tongue. Something told you that you shouldn’t push. A small pail hovered over your forehead as your eyelids fluttered shut just before a stream of the water cascaded down, accompanying her hands running through the strands.
“My lady, do you know what he wants with me?”
“That I do not. I have never heard of him seeking out pleasure houses. In fact, I do not even know if he’s ever visited a brothel. Regardless of what he desires, I imagine it is not driven by something pleasant.” You tensed under her touch as she continued. “Do not misunderstand any of this I’m sharing with you. He may be a human, but he lacks any sense of humanity. He is a cruel and sadistic man who is driven by his own whims and nothing more. You will witness this soon enough and should prepare yourself for the inevitable.”
The pieces began to fall into place, and her true intention of dragging you into the private baths was clear to you now. She wanted to warn you of the man. “So the relationship I share with him will likely not be sexual?”
“I can not imagine you’ll share any sort of relationship with him. He is incapable of such.” Lady Kana stood up, silently urging you to follow suit. “I’d say perhaps he singled you out because of your cursed energy, but even then you’re not the only one here. Whatever it is he seeks, be mindful around him. Should you displease him even once, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
A plush towel was forced into your hands, and you wrapped it tightly around your body as you stepped from the tub. Everything began to blur as you began to carefully dry off, wiping off any excess water that remained on you before moving to dry your hair. Lady Kana had briefly left the room, only to return minutes later with an old kimono of hers. She claimed it was too worn for her to keep and that you needed presentable attire to show up at Lord Sukuna’s shrine.
It was crafted of a fine silk, by far the nicest garment you had ever held in your own hands. A rich purple in color, it was simple with no embellishments. Regardless, a woman of your social ranking did not belong in such an outfit. Your apprehension must have been apparent because she was soon pulling it from your grasp and wrapping you in it.
“Doing either your hair or makeup is futile. From my understanding, you will be escorted on horseback, and the journey will in fact take days.” She paused what she was doing, her voice returning to its usual cadence for a moment as a small smile finally graced her lips. “I hate that such a thing has been bestowed upon you of all people. There’s a kindness in you. Don’t allow whatever hell awaits you to steal that away.”
“Thank you, Lady Kana. For both your advice and helping send me off.” With your kimono secured, you gave a quick bow of your head in gratitude, stepping towards the exit. There was nothing left for you to do. Once the horses were readied, it’d be time for you to leave.
“You’re intelligent, more so than you let on. I think you’ll figure out your way.”
She gave you another smile, one that was likely intended to be reassuring, though you felt like more pity shone through it than anything else. Her hands hovering over the shoji doors, she slid them open in one fluid motion, only for a blue-and-gold-clad body to be hesitantly waiting on the other side.
“Lady Kana, would you give us a moment?” The former oiran asked with a dip of her head.
“Of course,” was all she said as she stepped around, leaving the two of you alone, standing awkwardly in the threshold.
“My lady,” you nodded politely, trying to keep your voice as even as possible and silently praying you’d be able to swallow back whatever emotion was lodged deep in your chest as it threatened to spew out like bile.
“Everything I have done over the years has been to protect you. You may not understand, but all I have ever wanted was to keep you safe. However, I can not protect you from that man, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
“I appreciate it, my lady, but there is no need for apologies on your end. From my understanding, there is nothing that could have been done to prevent this situation.” Your voice managed to remain apathetic, but you could only hope your face mirrored it.
Her brows drew together, and glossy, saddened eyes stared back into yours. “Even now, with your contract voided, you still keep the same appearance up.”
“It is what has been expected of me for as long as I can remember, and as far as I know, it will be expected of me even more so where I am headed.” A subtle sharpness laced your reply, and it was not lost on her.
“I understand if you resent me. I know I would.” The former oiran stepped forward, her hand reaching out, allowing the back of her fingers to brush against the apple of your cheek. “I was sold into this life as a teenager and placed in a role I never would’ve chosen for myself. No matter how luxurious it seems to outsiders, it is a hell of its own. A cage as you had put it earlier.”
You watched as tears prickled her lash line, ready to spill over at any moment, her hand now fully holding onto your face. “When I discovered I was pregnant, I knew that it would potentially bring ruin upon me, but I could not bring myself to give you up. You have lived an unfair and unkind life, and for that, I don’t think I could ever atone. However, I feared that once you became of age, you’d be forced into a terrible role much like mine, and I have done everything in my power to ensure that if nothing else, your body would remain your own.”
“Is that what you think?” Your facade began to crack rapidly, your tumultuous emotions growing with each word. “That body is my own? Certainly you can’t be that foolish.”
“Would you have rather assumed the position of a courtesan?”
“No, not in the slightest. But to be honest, I haven’t thought about what I want in so long, nor will I ever again. What I have wanted has never mattered and it never will. And I may not know much about this world, as I have been barred from even stepping foot off of the property, but I’ve seen enough inside these walls to know that it does not matter where I go or what I do, my body will never truly belong to me. The same can be said for every woman, no matter their social class or talents, whether they’re royalty or a peasant. Sure, some have lived far more plush lives than I, and maybe I have often found myself envious, but none of us have truly ever said a say, have we?”
You felt a sudden warmth encompass you as she leapt forward, arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you into her. Her chin rested atop your scalp, and you felt a dampness, undoubtedly the tears she tried to keep, now flowing freely. You remained frozen in her embrace, unsure how to react. Something as simple as a hug remained alien to you, as you had never known such a gentle touch.
“Promise me that you’ll survive this. That no matter what, you will remain alive.”
Still tense and confused on how to navigate such a thing, you lifted one of your trembling arms, wrapping it around her. “I’ll try.”
“I will see you again, that much I swear to you.”
The sounds of horses ricocheted through the open doors, and you pulled back, the true gravity of the situation refusing to let itself be forgotten. It was time for you to leave. Tears began to well in the corner of your eyes, though unlike the former oiran, you wouldn’t allow them to fall.
You bowed your head one final time and pushed past her, stepping out into the open air. Her hand gripped onto the silk sleeve of the kimono you donned, and you glanced back at her swollen, reddened eyes one last time, continuing onward and breaking the contact. You didn’t believe you’d ever see her again, and truth be told, she likely didn’t either.
A sliver of the moon finally managed to peek through the clouds, illuminating the path before you. One of your arms rose up to wipe your eyes as you turned your head forward, and the former oiran stood like a statue, watching both the night and a terrible fate steal you away.
Synopsis: Somewhere beyond the fine, plush silks of the Imperial Court and the brilliant, glimmering lights of the pleasure district lies something dangerous — a calamity. Always lurking and observing, he plots while hidden away in darkness. But what could he possibly have planned that requires him to take in a lowly servant such as yourself?
Series Masterlist
CW: Misogyny, Sex work/brothels, references to gender-based violence, brief references to child abuse.
The unforgiving aroma of tobacco lingered throughout the vast, dimly lit hallways. Occasionally, a hint of something sickly sweet and floral would waft through as well, though it was few and far between. Hushed, feminine laughter could be heard echoing from behind the closed screen you shuffled past, immediately followed by a deep, husky whisper you couldn’t quite make out.
You continued forward, fresh water sloshing against the sides of the iron pail you gripped tightly, while a damp rag hung limp in your opposite hand. The oak panel flooring felt never-ending as it led you deeper into the building. In this corner of the property, the hallways were a maze, housing dozens of rooms, each serving as a different space for the lower-rank courtesans to entertain. More laughter ensued, this time from a different woman, and just a few rooms down, you heard low, poorly stifled groans, undoubtedly belonging to a customer. A samurai, or a business owner most likely, you presumed.
The pleasure house in which you worked was one of the most prestigious throughout the entire nation. Even the lowest-ranking women cost a year’s salary for just one night — and even then, pleasure was never guaranteed to the buyers. The higher-ranking women, including the oiran herself, were so costly that only the wealthiest men could even dream of getting a single glance. They often found themselves in the hands of either royalty or shoguns.
A stain, reflecting nearby lantern light, caught your eye, and your feet stalled out, knees folding beneath you until they were flush against the cold floor. Without another thought, your hand was dipping the rag into the bucket, and soon both of them moved to wring it out. Once the excess water was free from the fabric, you scrubbed at the ground before you gingerly. The sticky, tacked-on substance — most likely spilled sake judging by the shape — came free, and soon you were rising to your feet once more, sulking back down the hallways.
Time crawled on as you repeated the motion more times than you could count. Occasionally the hem of a silk kimono would float past, grazing against the floors you diligently cleaned. The men paid you no mind as they weaved in and out throughout the evening, stepping over you like you were nothing more than a cockroach in their path. You reached back towards the bucket, ready to wipe up dirt that a patron had unknowingly tracked in by the rear entrance when suddenly a firm hand gripped your wrist.
You were yanked to your feet, an ache spreading throughout your shoulder and arm as you struggled to regain your balance, the rag coming with you, splattering the now-dirty water along the wall. Your eyes were met by two harsh ones, and a pair of lips pressed into a straight line. The man, one of the pleasure house’s attendants who ensured daily operations ran smoothly, offered up one singular, simple demand.
“The oiran has requested you by name. Go now, with haste.”
With a polite bow of your head, you set the fabric down next to the bucket and were quick to oblige. The sound of a new servant approaching the accidental mess you were forced to leave behind could be heard as you slid open the shoji doors and stepped onto the veranda.
Well-kept, sprawling green gardens sprawled out before you as the moon had begun to inch up into the night’s sky. The breeze carried with it a chill, and it served as a stark reminder that autumn would soon be arriving. Not that it mattered. You were allowed no life beyond the walls of the compound, even prohibited from venturing to food stalls or simply strolling under the glimmering lights of the pleasure district that often called to you like a whisper on the wind from the sole window near the servants’ quarters. The only bearing the seasons held on you was watching the gardens dull, and it would be foolish to pretend otherwise.
Your yukata’s hem trailed across the grass, dampening tremendously from the dew it held. However, you paid it little mind. It was servant’s attire, already plain and worn-in, littered with so many stains you would fail to name from which occasion they appeared. A male’s boisterous laugh rang out, echoing throughout the open air from a table in the far-back corner. You could see the back of his topknot, and as your eyes slipped past him, you saw the woman he was visiting. Lady Hiina was her name, one of the highest-ranked courtesans, second only to the oiran who had just summoned you. She was a remarkable woman, a beauty that could bring any nobleman to his knees. Her bright smile gleamed in the moonlight behind her red-hued lips as you watched her move something in front of her. A Shogi piece you presumed, since she was known to be a brilliant player.
You kept your head low as you walked by, eyes not daring to lift from your own feet. However, out of the edge of your periphery, you managed to score a look at the man, and if you weren’t mistaken, he was a prominent member of the Itō clan. Once you had long passed them, carefully not to disturb their evening, your gaze rose up to the building situated in the back of the gardens, which held the three highest women of the house.
The doors slid open with ease, and you turned left, soon finding yourself faced with another pair. You sank down, knees on the ground, head low as you called out, “Lady Kana.”
“Come in,” a gentle voice responded as you moved to push open her room’s door.
Head still tucked to the ground a moment longer as a sign of respect, you scurried in, gaze still fixated on the floor, waiting for permission to let it rise once more.
“Thank you for coming on short notice. My attendant has suddenly fallen ill, and I was hoping you’d be available to assist me with my hair.”
You did not know Lady Kana well. In fact, you — among the other common servants — were rarely allowed to venture around the pleasure house’s star earners. However, a moment from just a few months prior filled your mind: whenever a nasty virus had spread through the house’s ranks, and you were one of the few unaffected. You had been assigned to bathe and dress Lady Kana for a handful of days.
She must have recalled your diligence and chosen you for assistance. A feeling of pride swelled within you for just a moment. For a woman of such high standing to remember you and request your return was no small feat, and perhaps should she take a liking to you in particular, you could eventually be moved to be one of her personal attendants.
“It would be my pleasure, my lady.” Your head bowed in a sign of respect once more before looking at her fully. Long, onyx hair still slightly damp from a bath ran straight down to her lower back while her supple, glowing skin remained bare-faced. She was a sight to see, even in her bath robes. You had heard men say she was one of the most beautiful women in all of Japan, and though you had never actually left the compound and seen other women, you still felt compelled to believe them.
“That makes me glad,” she replied, her honeyed eyes radiating with joy as she ushered you over, lazily gesturing at her combs. “I have no patrons tonight, so nothing too elaborate is needed.”
You offered a small nod in understanding, lifting up a bamboo comb, bringing it to the ends of her strands. As carefully as you could muster, you began to slowly run the comb through bit by bit, and her hair was like silk, even still wet and unbrushed, not a single knot had formed. Regardless, you continued in your cautious movements, doubling down to ensure everything would be perfect before styling. She sat in silence, humming a harmonious tune throughout the motions.
“My lady, how would you prefer your hair styled?”
A giggle escaped her as she turned to look back at you. “Please, surprise me.”
You were thankful she turned forward once more, unable to bear witness to the grimace that carved itself onto your face as anxiety took root. Lady Kana was kind-hearted, though you did not know her well, and feared one wrong misstep would spell trouble for you. Hopefully that worry would not come to fruition, and she was genuine in her request. Surely she knew that as a servant you had no sense of style — or even individuality for that matter.
Slowly you molded her hair upwards, ensuring not a single strand popped out of place as you wrapped it around itself into a loose knot, your eyes scanning the counter until they landed upon a stack of hairpins. You leaned over towards the stack, one hand reaching for the pins while the other held her hair taut in place. Wrapping your fingers around a golden hair stick, you tugged it towards you, the bright jade embellishments that hung from it swinging wildly.
You tucked the hair pin into place, and it held the knot firm as you reached forward, loosening a few strands to fall gently around her face, framing it like she was a work of art to behold.
Stepping back, you tucked your hands tightly behind you, gaze lowering to the ground as you awaited her to check it before you could be dismissed. A short silence followed as a hand mirror scraped across the tabletop.
“It’s simple and just perfect for my evening.”
It wasn’t until then that you realized you had been holding your breath and let the soft exhale you clung to release. “That pleases me greatly, Lady Kana.”
“Before you leave, I’d appreciate it if you could help with my make-up as well. Just a simple powder, if you don’t mind.”
You nodded as she pointed towards where her make-up stash sat, holding in the chuckle you felt brewing within you. Truthfully, you didn’t mind. You’d much rather attend to Lady Kana’s needs than scrub spilt wine and mud from flooring or launder the courtesans’ beddings. But even if you did, you’d never be allowed to voice such a grievance. Women like you were not allowed a say in their duties, especially not with someone like her, who was in an entirely different class.
You picked up the slender container, placing the round tin in the palm of your hand. Grabbing the brush that sat adjacent to it, you dotted it into the container, the white powder thoroughly coating each individual bristle before allowing it to coat the oiran’s face. It took no time at all to complete the powdering she had asked for, and should she not require any red on her lips or the blackening of her eyebrows, you would return to your usual duties.
“Splendid,” she nodded, the corners of her lips quirking upward into a soft smile. “That’s all for tonight. Lady Nene had summoned me in the main building right before I called for you. I had no desire to show up unkempt. Retire to your quarters for the evening, and I will mention to Lady Nene that it was a direct order from me.”
You bowed your head again, mumbling, “Thank you, Lady Kana.”
Lady Nene was the madam of the pleasure house, and while not the actual owner, she directly oversaw every aspect of the business from funds to the actual entertaining her girls did. As a former oiran herself, she held invaluable knowledge of the trade, and without her, the brothel would likely have never achieved the renowned reputation it currently carried. An abrasive, older woman, somewhere in her sixties or seventies, had kept the place running smoothly for at least three decades. Every employee, no matter a servant or a courtesan, answered to her and her only. She offered little to no leniency, especially for the servants, though she did often listen to the higher-ranking women, and you knew Lady Kana’s order would hold weight with her.
You made yourself scarce and soon found yourself back in the gardens. Lady Hiina and the Itō man were both long gone, likely ending up in a private room, leaving you to be the only person out at this time of night. The cobblestone path wound underneath your feet as you dropped to a far more leisurely pace, knowing no prying eyes could find their way to you. The last time you had a moment of rest was nothing more than a distant memory, many years past. Relaxation was something not afforded to your kind, and if Lady Kana was generous enough to allow it to you, then it would not go to waste.
Regardless of the rare moment, you couldn’t help but feel a slight unease. The wind had changed direction, now blowing in from the north fully, stronger and with a much colder bite. Thick clouds had begun to set in, shielding the heavens from those below. The moon in all its fullness was now only partially visible behind the grey canopy.
A shame.
Perhaps one of the only nights of your life when nothing would be demanded of you, and you couldn’t even stargaze.
Despite your slowed pace, the main building was rapidly approaching, and with it, you’d soon be back in the servants’ quarters. As your feet climbed the steps up to the veranda, your fingers lingered on the wooden railing, and you gave the shy moon one final parting glance. Maybe if you were lucky, you’d have another night like this soon, but instead, you would be blessed with clear skies.
As the doors slid open, your eyes adjusted back to dim, orange-hued lights you had grown far too used to, and you automatically dipped your head down, hands politely clasped at your front. Voices all blended together as you traversed through the web of halls, and one of your fingers — thankfully well hidden in the palm of your hand — began to nervously tap. The smoke had grown far more dense, and with it, everything started to feel more constricting.
Your eyes, focused intently on the ground, watched as traffic weaved by. The occasional silk hem, ornate and luxurious, would pass by, though mostly it was either an inebriated, wealthy patron or a timid servant with their head tucked much like yours that you came across.
A screen to your right slammed open with vigor, and though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but sneak a quick peek. A bright blue kimono, sleek and pressed to perfection, with not a single inch of fabric ruffled, rounded the corner into the main hallway. Intricate golden flowers embroidered on the collar framed what was the saddest face these walls have likely ever known. You held her gaze for only a fraction of a second before you forced yourself to look down at your own feet once more.
The former oiran.
Capturing the hearts of everyone from military generals to the highest ranks of the Imperial courts, it was said no man or woman was safe from her charm. She had truly been the most coveted woman in the nation, and though there had been a few more oirans step up since her days, the whispers say people all over the country still mourn the loss of her.
She was to be bought out soon, her contract recently paid in full by an aging samurai who had spent his life savings to free her from the brothel. He was a kind man, or so you had heard, though the life she would live would be far from the one of luxury she had all those years prior. Despite being the lowest-ranked courtesan now, she still cost a pretty penny due to debts she had racked up with the brothel. He truly had given every last dime for her.
Though, it was far better than anyone in her position could’ve ever hoped for. Most women who have such a public fall from grace are not awarded such. With a stained and sordid past, she was just lucky to not end up on the streets, plagued by poverty.
Tonight would likely be the last you ever saw her. You hadn’t spoken to her much, in fact, only three times, over the course of your entire life. It had been forbidden, and any missteps on your behalf were harshly punished by Lady Nene, no matter your age. Somewhere inside you, it still stung to some degree. That mild ache in your chest, which no matter how hard you’ve tried to push down, had been present as long as you could remember, but tonight at the final sight of her, it blossomed into something far more painful — something you could no longer ignore.
She would move on and live an honest, simple life with some decorated, retired samurai in the countryside. She’d trade her finest silks for worn linens and fresh sushi for root vegetables. Perhaps she’d garden, chunks of earth wedged underneath what used to be freshly manicured nails. She might learn to love it or maybe she’d just spend the rest of her days in a hateful, miserable daze, mourning the life that had been stolen from her.
Regardless of the outcome, her fate remained sealed. She’d be allowed to leave while you would be planted here, scrubbing flooring until the day you die. It was the price she paid for bringing a child into this scornful world, but somehow you were always the one who bore the brunt of it.
The vivid blue fabric was gone, and soon, so were you. In the front left corner of the building, tucked away from all the luxuries and sins, sat the servant quarters. It was a handful of small rooms, all shared by dozens of workers. None of you were allowed personal belongings beyond the clothes you wore and soap for bathing. It was nothing more than a place for all of you to lay your heads. Plain tatami rooms and scraps for bedding were all that awaited you.
The women who had been assigned the day shift were already asleep by the time you filed in, quietly changing into a fresher yukata. Grabbing a blanket from the pile in the corner, you settled down. Your eyes fluttered shut, and your body stilled, but sleep still wouldn’t claim you. That pain in your chest remained as sorrow coursed through your veins. You tried to still your mind, but the more you fought, the deeper its claws sunk in.
You were uncertain how much time had passed. It could’ve been mere minutes or multiple hours you laid there, eyes focused on the ceiling as you accepted there would just simply be no rest for you tonight. Thoughts of that blue and gold kimono refused to let go of you.
At some point, the quiet atmosphere broke. The soft, rhythmic breathing of the girls around you was soon replaced by urgent footfall outside the screens. Feet stamping off in what seemed like a rush, and hushed whispers you couldn’t make out no matter how hard you tried filled the hallway outside, managing to wake a few of the sleeping servants by your sides.
Curiosity got the best of you as you crawled over on your knees, your ear firmly planting itself against the door. The voices sounded frantic, though the subject of their frenzy was still a mystery as you failed to make out any of the words.
One of the other girls, Mimi, opened her mouth, likely to inquire, though before a single syllable had been allowed to escape, you were raising your index finger to your lips in a silent signal. She obliged, and you continued your pursuit of the culprit behind whatever was stirring beyond the wall.
Suddenly, you felt it.
Breath hitching in your throat, your eyes flew wide open, jaw going slack.
It was overwhelming and unmistakable. Something dark, spreading across your body like an early morning’s mist, cloaking you in your entirety. A slight tremor appeared in your hands, and unfortunately for you, your fear was now noticeable to the others.
Cursed energy.
“What is it?” Mimi hissed, her voice no more than a whisper.
One of the three times in your life that the former oiran had spoken to you, you were no more than five. You had done something accidentally that one of the older servants had witnessed. Too young to recall exactly what occurred, all you knew was that Lady Nene had dragged you off by your ear to her private quarters after the fact, and the disgraced oiran had spoken to you briefly. It was the single time your interaction had been approved by the house’s madam.
She warned you of cursed energy and all that became of it, spirits and sorcerers alike. Few people in the world were gifted with the ability to wield it, and it was imperative that it remained a secret. Thus, you had been forbidden from both using it and speaking of it with others. You had encountered a cursed spirit before. It wasn’t exactly unheard of in a place that brimmed with melancholy such as pleasure districts.
And you had seen sorcerers before. It wasn’t uncommon for certain clans to visit. The others chalked them up to nothing more than wealthy men and feudal lords, though you knew what they were in actuality.
What you felt now, though, was unlike anything else. It was not akin to any spirit or sorcerer you had ever encountered before.
It was all-consuming, like in that moment there was nothing else.
And within an instant, it was gone just as quick as it arrived.
You regained your composure quickly, tossing a glance over to the girls before whispering, “It’s nothing. Let’s just go back to bed.”
There was no time to move before the door was flying open. The motion was so violent, you were surprised it remained on its track. A hand, unyielding, was yanking you to your feet, while three more men filed in, doing the same to the other servants.
Gasps with small shrieks of surprise filled the room, but no noises of protest were made. You didn’t understand what was happening. Those men worked for the brothel the same as you. Many in the form of security. They had no reason to treat any of you in such a manner, but regardless, they still held authority over you. If not in rank, then solely in the fact they were men. It was not your place to outwardly question it.
“All of you to the gardens now.” A familiar voice said. The man from earlier, his hand now wrapped around Mimi’s arm before shoving her in the direction of the doors. “And if you’re smart, keep your heads down.”
You weren’t sure what was going on, but you did not dare to lift your head in hopes of finding out and imagined the other girls felt much the same. More men ran down adjacent hallways as you were ushered through. They slammed doors open, presumably combing for more servants.
Your nerves continued to climb as the open air kissed your skin, but it wasn’t until you saw lines of courtesans, all on their knees, foreheads pressed firm into the grass, that you realized something was terribly wrong. One after another in succession, still as stones, and if it weren’t for the occasional sound of a ragged breath, you might have assumed they were lifeless.
It was one thing for a servant to be forced into this indecorous situation, but the ladies of the pleasure house? Nothing was making sense.
Nervousness began blossoming into actual fear as the man leading you came to a halt, and with the sudden standstill, you took heed of his advice, collapsing to the ground below. One by one, you could hear the girls behind you fall into their kneels, and a striking silence overtook the atmosphere.
You squeezed your eyes shut. Even bearing the sight of the green blades beneath your bowed head proved to be too much. The stillness on its own was nearly unendurable, but the quietness felt absolutely hellish. The minutes passed, and whether it was two or twenty, you could not tell. They dragged on, every single agonizing second leaving you in the dark to what you and the courtyard full of women were facing.
“Is this all of them?” A sonorous voice asked.
You didn’t recognize it. Cold and detached, devoid of any emotion at all. No matter how much you racked your brain, you couldn’t pair a face to the sound. Though by the tone it took on, it only exacerbated your terror.
“This is all of them. Every last woman that resides here,” Lady Nene stated. Her voice was even, though something undecipherable wove through it slightly.
Your breath caught in your throat for just a moment before you had to remind yourself to take another in and hold it steady. She was involved somehow; of course she was. Nothing ever happened at the pleasure house without it being under her watchful eye, so it should come as no surprise. But what was that in her voice you couldn’t make out?
Heavy footfall began, many rows ahead of where you were planted, and it remained the only sound the night harbored. With every single step, you could feel it once more: sparks of that raw, explosive cursed energy. However, thankfully, it was less intense than the burst you had felt earlier.
It belonged to the strange man who spoke with Lady Nene. Was he a sorcerer?
Did he orchestrate all of this?
The seconds felt like a millennia the way he strolled, and while you couldn’t see it with your own eyes, you imagined it was leisurely, without a hurry or care in the world. He grew closer, and with it, so did the hum of his energy. You knew the other girls were frightened by the evening’s sudden events. Anyone in their right mind would be. But, without the ability to observe cursed energy, how did they perceive the being who had demanded the appearance of every woman in the house, lining them up like nothing more than livestock in a market?
As the sound drew nearer, you felt your pulse quicken, and it felt like all the coolness of the evening’s air had been sucked from it, a light, sweaty sheen forming across your skin underneath your yukata. You tried not to focus on it, telling yourself it was all insignificant, as he would simply just pass you by in his inspection of the brothel’s women, and nothing bad would come from the situation. His intention was not stated, though it didn’t need be. There was only ever one reason men stumbled into the pleasure district.
He’d finish his scrutinization, likely end up plucking Lady Kana or Lady Hiina for his evening affairs, and you would be on your way back to the servants’ quarters, where you’d hopefully remain uninterrupted for the rest of the night. It was the most logical outcome, and the rational part of your brain knew it to be true. But that staggering, unthinkable cursed energy that radiated from him, even in the minuscule amounts now, would not allow you even a second of peace until you were behind closed doors once more.
Your eyes remained closed as you somehow managed to hold your breath, and you heard the faceless sorcerer turn down your row. He continued at his pace, the cursed energy he emitted causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as it grew closer than you had ever experienced before. The man was only a handful of women away from you now, and you took in one final breath, far deeper than any of your previous, waiting to exhale as soon as he passed. However, your idea was out the window as his heavy strides came to a screeching halt right in front of you.
No.
“Lift your head.”
Dozens upon dozens of beautiful, remarkable women with their immaculate, adorned up-dos and perfectly painted makeup, clad in the most luxurious fabrics money could buy, and trained not only in the art of pleasure but in entertaining as well were laid out before him, and for some terrible, unknown reason, the man leaking what was the most terrifying energy one could possibly know had to stop in front of you. A plain servant, and nothing more.
Perhaps when you lift your head, he will realize what a terrible mistake he’s made.
Your forehead, still crammed into the grass, slowly began to lift, and you allowed your eyes to flutter open. Feet, massive and bare against the ground, faced you. The sight began to morph into a loose, white pair of pants that hung effortlessly from his lower body. You suddenly decided to go ahead and just rip the bandage off. Forfeiting your chin’s slow climb, you instead threw your head back all at once, and the sight that awaited you was unlike anything you could have imagined.
He had the body and face of a curse, but he was still somehow unmistakably human.
Four intense crimson eyes glared down at you. Two of them, much larger than the others, rested atop what looked like a thickened and darkened patch of flesh that protruded from the side of his face. Thick, blush-hued strands were tousled back, catching in the brisk breeze. Intricate obsidian tattoos decorated not only his hardened expression but also snaked their way down his body, peeking through the edges of the black haori he donned and wrapping over his shoulders, spilling down his bare chest. Four muscular arms protruded from his expansive torso. The bottom two hung lazily by his side while the top two were crossed tightly right above a sizable maw that stretched across the center of his abdomen.
You stared up at the man before you, your expression a mixture of both fear and astonishment — like he was some sort of inconceivable being. And he met your eyes, peering down at you on your knees like everyone else always did. As if you were some worthless insect whose purpose was nothing more than to be trampled upon.
“I’ll take this one. Everyone else leave, now.”
“Lord Sukuna, forgive me,” Lady Nene began, nervousness finally beginning to pierce through her usual unforgiving cadence. “She is one of our servants. A simple-minded one at that. She can neither read nor write and has never served a man. I would hate for you to find yourself unsatisfied at the end of your evening.”
Sukuna. Is that his name?
Whatever spell of trepidation the sight of Sukuna held on you broke briefly enough for you to shift your gaze past him, over to where Lady Nene stood. Her silver hair was pulled taut into its usual bun, not a single piece out of place, while her unassuming, cream-colored robes popped against the vibrant backdrop of the gardens. Her forehead creased, a deep line formed in between her brows, and the corners of her mouth dipped downwards slightly. It appeared to be a look of worry more so than anything else and was likely the only time you had witnessed her face be anything other than a cruel scowl.
Directly behind her stood Lady Kana, Lady Hiina, and Lady Hisa, the three most esteemed women the pleasure house had to offer, hands held firmly at the front, faces attempting to remain straight, though their fear was as thinly veiled as yours.
“May I suggest Miss Kana for the evening? I can assure you that she will leave you wanting for nothing.”
You watched as Lady Kana’s face morphed into absolute horror at the thought. You both sympathized with her and found yourself silently praying that he would heed the madam’s advice. That thought, however, was short-lived as he was soon speaking again.
“I will not repeat myself.”
Lady Nene swallowed harshly, turning her attention to the still-kneeling women around you and began barking out an order to leave while you moved yours back onto him.
“Stand,” was all he said to you.
So you did, without hesitation. Shifting your weight to your feet, you rose on shaky legs, knees threatening to buckle, but somehow, you managed to keep yourself upright.
One of his lower hands reached out, gripping you by your chin, calloused fingers digging into either side as he tilted it upwards slightly. It hurt, though not unbearable. You didn’t think he was attempting to inflict any pain on you; rather, it just seemed he carried no concern about whether he was gentle or not.
He leaned down slightly, his eyes narrowing, scanning every inch of your face as they moved from side to side, and once more, you were having to remind yourself to breathe.
You could sense all the women in the garden rise up. Some scurried away with their heads down in hopes of not attracting any attention. Others stared wide-eyed, mouths agape, in sheer terror at the colossal man who held you tightly in his grasp.
“You’ll have this one delivered to me in three days’ time,” he spoke to Lady Nene, though his eyes still bore into you.
You took in a small gasp as whatever weak hold you had on your composure began to falter further. The thought of him taking you for the night was petrifying enough on its own, but this was no late-night tryst he was seeking — no, the way he spoke sounded like he wanted to buy out your contract.
Why?
Why did he have to pick you?
You’d go without a fuss. Not a single objection would fall from your lips as you were drug off. That wasn’t what you desired in the slightest, but the decision was not yours. It never had been, nor ever would be.
“You shouldn’t take her,” a familiar voice spoke. You swallowed harshly at the sound, and everyone who hadn’t already taken their leave immediately froze in place at the sudden protests. “She is untrained and will be unable to satisfy anyone. Please take me instead.”
His glare peeled from you within an instant, hand dropping from your chin as he swung to the side. You followed suit, finding that same blue and gold kimono from earlier approaching the two of you.
The former oiran.
Why was she being so foolish? After all this time, she had been freed from the pleasure house and from the detestable mistakes she had previously made that still hung over her more than two decades later, so for what reason would she ever risk such a thing? Certainly she knew it would change nothing.
“You’re her mother,” he said. The way he spoke was matter-of-fact with not an ounce of doubt to be found anywhere in his statement.
Her feet came to a halt and her body grew rigid as an uncomfortable expression overwrote her features.
The man briefly peered over to Lady Nene. “Three days, and not a second past sunset. It’s a little over a two-day ride to my shrine, so I suggest leaving before night’s end to ensure prompt arrival. Should any issue arise and she not be there as we’ve agreed on, I will return and slaughter one person for every minute that she was late.” He paused, moving his ruby eyes back to yours. “And should you try to run, you and your mother will take the punishment together. Do you understand?”
Somehow you managed to find a sliver of courage. “My lord, may I speak freely?”
You could see the former oiran grimace as if you had somehow done something worse than what she had just attempted.
The corner of his lip twitched mildly, almost as if it were threatening to turn up into a grin. “Proceed.”
“There is no reason for threats, my lord. From the moment you made your demands known, I decided I would not protest but rather follow them without any complaints.”
“Oh? And why is it that you’re so willing to join me?”
“Because it does not matter. No matter who is holding the keys, a cage will always be a cage.”
His head tilted back, and an echoing laugh escaped from deep within his chest. “That old hag is a fool for locking you away to scrub up others’ filth. Some drunk, self-proclaimed philosopher would’ve had the time of his life with you and likely would’ve paid a pretty price too.”
For some reason you felt small, having to resist the urge to shrink back, but before anything else could come of the conversation, he was moving away and closing in on Lady Nene.
“Make sure you clean her up before sending her to me. I will not tolerate such disrespect.”
She looked forward, unable to make direct eye contact with him. “And what of payment?”
He leaned towards her and hissed, “Your lives are my payment.”
And he was gone within the blink of an eye, no remnants of him left behind.
The garden had grown largely empty. Most of the women had escaped during the exchange with Lady Nene and the man you presumed to be Lord Sukuna. Things remained eerily quiet once he left, as if he had completely sucked the life out of the space. Even the wind itself had simmered down.
Soft fingers wrapped themselves around your arm, tugging lightly. Lady Kana’s golden eyes had softened significantly as she urged you to follow her. “Come. You can use our private bath before you leave.”
A small kindness on her behalf before you were forced into some unknown hell. You knew her, and likely everyone else was just relieved they hadn’t been the unfortunate soul to be picked, and you couldn’t fault them as you’d feel the same.
You allowed her to pull you, but your eyes moved back to the spot where the man had been.
What use could that sorcerer possibly hold for you?
He gave nothing of monetary value in exchange for your contract. With money not being an issue, he could’ve chosen any woman in the courtyard tonight. If he wanted beauty, he would’ve picked Lady Kana or Hiina, perhaps even Lady Hisa. If he sought only pleasure, there was an array of women who had dedicated their lives to performing the act.
Was it your cursed energy?
Could he sense it?
Soon slick, dampened wood could be felt underfoot as a dense cloud of steam enveloped you. The air was thick, carrying the overwhelming scents of rose oil and citrus. You stared at the large tub, full of pristine, clear water, as there was a soft tug on your yukata.
Your eyes moved to meet Lady Kana’s, and you struggled to find the words you needed, rather just shaking your head. The fabric quietly hit the ground beneath you as you stepped into the tub. Hot water lapped at your ankles, then calves, as you slowly descended, and you reluctantly embraced its warmth against your flesh. The baths servants were allowed were either room temperature or cold depending on the season, and for that reason, as long as you had been alive, you had never known such a luxury.
It was a foreign sensation, though a divine one. So much so that you nearly forgot the harrowing situation you were suddenly entangled in and the frightening, strange man that was its architect.
You heard the water splash lightly as a piece of fabric was submerged in it, a pair of dainty, manicured hands gripping it tight before wringing it out. They moved to bring it towards you, though somehow you managed to find your voice.
“Lady Kana, you shouldn’t. Such an act is beneath you.” Your voice was small as you attempted to pull the rag from her, though she wouldn’t relent.
“It is a direct order. Do not defy me.” There was no bite in her tone as she knelt down, once more trying to wipe at your skin. However, this time she managed to make contact. “He will want you up to his standards; of that much I’m certain.”
“Do you know him, my lady?”
The room grew silent as she continued to scrub at you, occasionally dipping the towel back in for fresh water. She was far more taciturn than you had ever known her to be, and that alone spoke the words she didn’t. Something in her refusal to acknowledge that question immediately didn’t settle right with you, and you knew then you wouldn’t like her answer.
It wasn’t until she had finished wiping you down and began rubbing the soap into your scalp that she finally responded.
“No, but I know of him.”
“And what of him?”
Her hands stilled as you heard her harshly swallow. “His name is Ryomen Sukuna. They say he’s a god amongst men, and in some places, he’s even worshipped as such. You’ll likely see this at some point.”
“But you don’t believe that?”
“No, he is not a deity. He is nothing more than a sorcerer. A remarkably strong one, but do not be fooled. He is as human as you and I.”
You took in a faint gasp, angling your face towards her. “You know of sorcerers?”
Such a knowledge was forbidden to most, or so you had always thought. Why would Lady Kana know of sorcery?
“There is more to this place than you realize.” After gently forcing your head back forward, she began to move her fingertips again, eagerly massaging into your hair and ensuring not a single spot was missed. “Now tilt back so I can rinse.”
You listened to her command and allowed any further questions on the topic of sorcerers to die on your tongue. Something told you that you shouldn’t push. A small pail hovered over your forehead as your eyelids fluttered shut just before a stream of the water cascaded down, accompanying her hands running through the strands.
“My lady, do you know what he wants with me?”
“That I do not. I have never heard of him seeking out pleasure houses. In fact, I do not even know if he’s ever visited a brothel. Regardless of what he desires, I imagine it is not driven by something pleasant.” You tensed under her touch as she continued. “Do not misunderstand any of this I’m sharing with you. He may be a human, but he lacks any sense of humanity. He is a cruel and sadistic man who is driven by his own whims and nothing more. You will witness this soon enough and should prepare yourself for the inevitable.”
The pieces began to fall into place, and her true intention of dragging you into the private baths was clear to you now. She wanted to warn you of the man. “So the relationship I share with him will likely not be sexual?”
“I can not imagine you’ll share any sort of relationship with him. He is incapable of such.” Lady Kana stood up, silently urging you to follow suit. “I’d say perhaps he singled you out because of your cursed energy, but even then you’re not the only one here. Whatever it is he seeks, be mindful around him. Should you displease him even once, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
A plush towel was forced into your hands, and you wrapped it tightly around your body as you stepped from the tub. Everything began to blur as you began to carefully dry off, wiping off any excess water that remained on you before moving to dry your hair. Lady Kana had briefly left the room, only to return minutes later with an old kimono of hers. She claimed it was too worn for her to keep and that you needed presentable attire to show up at Lord Sukuna’s shrine.
It was crafted of a fine silk, by far the nicest garment you had ever held in your own hands. A rich purple in color, it was simple with no embellishments. Regardless, a woman of your social ranking did not belong in such an outfit. Your apprehension must have been apparent because she was soon pulling it from your grasp and wrapping you in it.
“Doing either your hair or makeup is futile. From my understanding, you will be escorted on horseback, and the journey will in fact take days.” She paused what she was doing, her voice returning to its usual cadence for a moment as a small smile finally graced her lips. “I hate that such a thing has been bestowed upon you of all people. There’s a kindness in you. Don’t allow whatever hell awaits you to steal that away.”
“Thank you, Lady Kana. For both your advice and helping send me off.” With your kimono secured, you gave a quick bow of your head in gratitude, stepping towards the exit. There was nothing left for you to do. Once the horses were readied, it’d be time for you to leave.
“You’re intelligent, more so than you let on. I think you’ll figure out your way.”
She gave you another smile, one that was likely intended to be reassuring, though you felt like more pity shone through it than anything else. Her hands hovering over the shoji doors, she slid them open in one fluid motion, only for a blue-and-gold-clad body to be hesitantly waiting on the other side.
“Lady Kana, would you give us a moment?” The former oiran asked with a dip of her head.
“Of course,” was all she said as she stepped around, leaving the two of you alone, standing awkwardly in the threshold.
“My lady,” you nodded politely, trying to keep your voice as even as possible and silently praying you’d be able to swallow back whatever emotion was lodged deep in your chest as it threatened to spew out like bile.
“Everything I have done over the years has been to protect you. You may not understand, but all I have ever wanted was to keep you safe. However, I can not protect you from that man, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
“I appreciate it, my lady, but there is no need for apologies on your end. From my understanding, there is nothing that could have been done to prevent this situation.” Your voice managed to remain apathetic, but you could only hope your face mirrored it.
Her brows drew together, and glossy, saddened eyes stared back into yours. “Even now, with your contract voided, you still keep the same appearance up.”
“It is what has been expected of me for as long as I can remember, and as far as I know, it will be expected of me even more so where I am headed.” A subtle sharpness laced your reply, and it was not lost on her.
“I understand if you resent me. I know I would.” The former oiran stepped forward, her hand reaching out, allowing the back of her fingers to brush against the apple of your cheek. “I was sold into this life as a teenager and placed in a role I never would’ve chosen for myself. No matter how luxurious it seems to outsiders, it is a hell of its own. A cage as you had put it earlier.”
You watched as tears prickled her lash line, ready to spill over at any moment, her hand now fully holding onto your face. “When I discovered I was pregnant, I knew that it would potentially bring ruin upon me, but I could not bring myself to give you up. You have lived an unfair and unkind life, and for that, I don’t think I could ever atone. However, I feared that once you became of age, you’d be forced into a terrible role much like mine, and I have done everything in my power to ensure that if nothing else, your body would remain your own.”
“Is that what you think?” Your facade began to crack rapidly, your tumultuous emotions growing with each word. “That my body is my own? Certainly you can’t be that foolish.”
“Would you have rather assumed the position of a courtesan?”
“No, not in the slightest. But to be honest, I haven’t thought about what I want in so long, nor will I ever again. What I have wanted has never mattered and it never will. And I may not know much about this world, as I have been barred from even stepping foot off of the property, but I’ve seen enough inside these walls to know that it does not matter where I go or what I do, my body will never truly belong to me. The same can be said for every woman, no matter their social class or talents, whether they’re royalty or a peasant. Sure, some have lived far more plush lives than I, and maybe I have often found myself envious, but none of us have truly ever had a say, have we?”
You felt a sudden warmth encompass you as she leapt forward, arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you into her. Her chin rested atop your scalp, and you felt a dampness, undoubtedly the tears she tried to keep, now flowing freely. You remained frozen in her embrace, unsure how to react. Something as simple as a hug remained alien to you, as you had never known such a gentle touch.
“Promise me that you’ll survive this. That no matter what, you will remain alive.”
Still tense and confused on how to navigate such a thing, you lifted one of your trembling arms, wrapping it around her. “I’ll try.”
“I will see you again, that much I swear to you.”
The sounds of horses ricocheted through the open doors, and you pulled back, the true gravity of the situation refusing to let itself be forgotten. It was time for you to leave. Tears began to well in the corner of your eyes, though unlike the former oiran, you wouldn’t allow them to fall.
You bowed your head one final time and pushed past her, stepping out into the open air. Her hand gripped onto the silk sleeve of the kimono you donned, and you glanced back at her swollen, reddened eyes one last time, continuing onward and breaking the contact. You didn’t believe you’d ever see her again, and truth be told, she likely didn’t either.
A sliver of the moon finally managed to peek through the clouds, illuminating the path before you. One of your arms rose up to wipe your eyes as you turned your head forward, and the former oiran stood like a statue, watching both the night and a terrible fate steal you away.
Synopsis: Somewhere beyond the fine, plush silks of the Imperial Court and the brilliant, glimmering lights of the pleasure district lies something dangerous — a calamity. Always lurking and observing, he plots while hidden away in darkness. But what could he possibly have planned that requires him to take in a lowly servant such as yourself?
Content: Edo Period AU, True Form Sukuna, no y/n for reader, dark themes, graphic depictions of violence, period-typical misogyny, angst, eventual smut, Sukuna has two cocks, reader has a cursed technique, blood, fight scenes, mild gore, cursed spirits, heavy references to sex work/brothels, references to child abuse, references to gender-based violence, more tags to be added
tbh i struggled so hard with chapter 19 of sanguine. i’ve somehow written both so much and so little it feels like. i’d write a good chunk in one day, hate it all, scrap it, repeat, etc. this has happened three times so far over the course of the story, and all three times i forced myself to write and publish a chapter only to later look back and regret it as the work wasn’t up to my standards. all three still feel like a stain on the story in my eyes, and this chapter is too important to treat that way.
anyways, as of now i am slowly pecking away at it and its starting to take better shape this way. because of this, there is no eta on it, but know that it is coming still <3
i have another little sukuna project already started that i may post in the meantime. i’m still undecided when i’d like to share that. sorry for any delays but i’m working hard on things i promise <3
