The Things We Do in the Dark
By
Y/N is a decent enough sorcerer in the Heian era. Her life was simple, obey orders and do whatever it takes to kill the King of Curses. However, her secret love affair with the possessive four armed beast she had sworn was her enemy, might make it a bit more complicated.
Part One
Part Two
⸻
In the Heian era, loyalty was never simple. For a jujutsu sorcerer, it was supposed to be.
Clear.
Defined.
You killed curses.
And above all—you killed him.
Ryomen Sukuna was not just a curse. He was the calamity. The name whispered in strategy meetings, carved into fear, etched into every mission that ended in blood instead of victory. You were supposed to hate him.
And in public—
you did.
⸻
“Again.”
The command cut through the training grounds sharply.
Across from you stood Toji Fushiguro, wooden blade resting lazily against his shoulder, expression unreadable but eyes sharp.
“You hesitated,” he added.
“I didn’t,” you snapped, adjusting your grip.
“You did.”
Before you could argue, he moved.
Fast.
Faster than most sorcerers.
You barely blocked in time, the force of the strike sending a shock through your arms.
“Focus,” Toji said flatly. “If you freeze like that against Sukuna, you’re dead.”
Your jaw tightened.
“I know that.”
“Do you?” he countered, stepping closer, voice lowering slightly. “Because right now, it looks like you’re thinking instead of fighting.”
You pushed him back with a burst of cursed energy.
“I said I know.”
Silence stretched between you for a moment.
Then Toji exhaled through his nose, unimpressed.
“Then prove it.”
You lunged.
⸻
By nightfall, your body ached. Your mind more so. The others had long since retired, the compound quiet, lanterns dimming one by one.
You didn’t go to your room.
Instead—
you left.
⸻
The shrine was hidden deep within the forest, far beyond the reach of ordinary sorcerers. Even those who sensed cursed energy would hesitate before stepping further.
You didn’t hesitate.
You never did.
The moment you crossed into his domain—
you felt him.
That oppressive, suffocating presence wrapped around you like a second skin.
“You’re late.”
His voice came before you saw him.
Low.
Unamused.
You stepped into the clearing, gaze landing on him where he sat—exactly as always, like the world had arranged itself around his existence.
“I was training,” you replied.
A pause.
Then—
“With him.” Not a question.
Your stomach tightened.
“You already know the answer to that.”
Sukuna’s eyes lifted slowly to meet yours.
All of them.
Sharp.
Cold.
And burning with something far more volatile than anger.
“Say it anyway.”
You exhaled once.
“…Yes.”
Silence.
Then he stood.
The shift in the air was immediate—heavy, dangerous, suffocating.
You didn’t move. Even as he closed the distance between you. Even as his presence pressed in, overwhelming, familiar in the worst way.
“Toji Fushiguro,” Sukuna said, voice quiet but edged. “A man with no cursed energy… standing beside you.”
His hand caught your wrist suddenly.
Tight.
Possessive.
“Tell me,” he continued, lifting your arm slightly as if examining something that belonged to him, “why he gets to stand that close.”
Your pulse spiked—but your expression didn’t.
“It’s strategy.”
His grip tightened.
“Don’t insult me.”
“I’m not.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
“You fight at his side,” Sukuna said, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “You listen to him. You let him correct you.”
Each word felt like a blade pressing closer.
“And yet,” he added softly, “you come here… and expect me to tolerate that?”
You met his gaze.
Unflinching.
“I don’t expect anything from you.”
That—
that was the wrong answer.
His hand moved from your wrist to your throat in an instant.
Not choking.
Not yet.
But firm enough to remind you exactly who you were speaking to.
“You belong in my domain,” Sukuna said, voice laced with something darker now. “Not at the side of some human who thinks he can touch what’s mine.”
Your breath hitched slightly.
Not from fear.
From the word.
Mine.
“You don’t own me,” you said quietly.
The air stilled.
Dangerously.
Then—
Sukuna smiled.
Slow.
Cruel.
“Say that again.”
You didn’t. Because you knew better.
Because this—
this was the line.
Instead, you held his gaze.
And that, somehow, was worse.
His grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make your pulse jump beneath his fingers.
“You’re lying to them,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
“You sit in their meetings. You plan my death. You stand beside that man and pretend you want to kill me.”
His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse.
“But when you come here…”
A pause.
His voice dropped, quieter.
“…you don’t pretend.”
Your chest rose slowly.
“Yes,” you admitted.
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
Then—
“Good.”
The word came softer than expected. But it didn’t lessen the tension. Because his hand didn’t leave your throat.
“If I ever find out,” Sukuna continued, voice calm now in a way that felt far more dangerous, “that your hesitation today… wasn’t just weakness—”
Your breath caught.
So he had seen.
“—I won’t kill you,” he finished.
A chill ran down your spine. Because that was worse.
“I’ll make sure you regret choosing them first.”
The words settled deep.
Unavoidable.
⸻
“You’re distracted.” Toji’s voice cut through your thoughts the next day. You barely blocked his strike.
Again.
His gaze narrowed.
“This isn’t like you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he said bluntly. “And if you go into a fight like this, you’ll get someone killed.”
Your grip tightened around your weapon.
“Then don’t rely on me.”
Silence.
Then—
“That’s not the problem,” Toji replied, studying you more closely now. “The problem is you’re holding back.”
Your chest tightened.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“And I want to know why.”
For a moment—
just a moment—
you considered telling him.
Everything.
The shrine.
The nights.
The truth.
But then—
you remembered Sukuna’s voice.
You don’t pretend.
Your expression hardened.
“Drop it.”
Toji didn’t move.
Didn’t look away.
But after a long pause—
“…Fine,” he said.
He didn’t believe you.
⸻
That night, you went to the shrine again. Of course you did. You always did.
But this time—
Sukuna didn’t wait.
The moment you stepped into the clearing, you were pulled forward—your back hitting the wooden pillar behind you as his presence closed in instantly.
“You let him question you.”
Your breath caught.
“You hesitated again.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
His hand slammed against the pillar beside your head.
Trapping you.
“You think I don’t see it?” he continued, voice low and sharp. “You think I don’t feel the shift in you every time his name comes up?”
“I’m doing what I have to,” you snapped.
“And what is that?” he shot back.
“Surviving.”
The word hung between you.
Raw.
Honest.
For a moment—
neither of you moved.
Then Sukuna leaned in closer. Close enough that his voice dropped into something quieter. Something far more dangerous.
“Then choose.”
Your heart stuttered.
“Because this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between you, “doesn’t exist without consequence.”
His hand moved again—back to your throat, but slower this time.
Intentional.
“If you keep standing beside them,” he continued, “if you keep pretending you want me dead…”
His thumb pressed lightly against your pulse.
“…then one day, you’re going to have to prove it.”
Your breath caught.
“And when that day comes,” Sukuna said softly, “I want to see what you choose.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Final.
Because you both knew—
that day wasn’t far.
⸻
And when it finally came—
it wasn’t quiet.
It wasn’t controlled.
It was chaos.
The battlefield burned, cursed energy tearing through the air, the ground split beneath the force of it. Sorcerers moved in formation. Plans unfolded.
And at the center of it all—
him.
Ryomen Sukuna stood untouched, surrounded by destruction, his presence as overwhelming as ever. You stood at the edge of it. Beside Toji.
“This is it,” he said, eyes locked on Sukuna. “We end this here.”
Your grip tightened.
Your heart pounded.
Because across the battlefield—
Sukuna was already looking at you.
Waiting.
Not for the attack.
For the answer.
Toji stepped forward.
“Stay close.”
You didn’t move.
“Y/N—”
“I know,” you said.
But your feet stayed rooted. Because Sukuna’s voice echoed in your mind.
Then choose.
The battlefield faded.
The noise dulled.
Everything narrowed to one moment.
One decision.
One irreversible line.
Kill him—
and lose whatever this twisted, dangerous thing between you was.
Or stand with him—
and lose everything else.
Sukuna smiled.
Slow.
Expectant.
Like he already knew.
Your breath shook—
just once.
Then—
you moved.
To be continued…
