I'm sorry to anyone I've let down recently by not keeping up with your Asks and fics. Real life is a bit overwhelming right now, but I'm gonna try and do better going forward. xx
Warnings: Death is mentioned | Human Sacrifices is mentioned | Sukuna is a little bit OOC |
Words: 3k+ (3333 words 😂)
Summary: If someone asked Sukuna how he fell in love for the first time, he would have to say it was at this very moment. As she looked at him in the eye, determination shining as bright as his lust for violence, Sukuna found himself captured in her web. What a foolish woman. But at this moment, he also decided that this was his foolish woman.
Kindness is an alien feeling for Sukuna. Even before he became a curse, Sukuna was an outcast. A monster in everyone’s eyes. They either worshipped his strength or hated him for his cruelty. He was never quite sure of what to expect from humans. But one thing he knew was that they never showed kindness to him. His devouts would pray to him, offer him offerings, food, but never out of kindness or consideration for his well-being. It was always because they expected something from him in return, and it annoyed him. Every time someone would come to him bearing the most expensive offering they could afford, he would scowl at them. It annoyed him to no end. It might have been an act of goodwill from devotees. But Sukuna found this practice of poor taste. It felt like they were buying his services. As if, if Sukuna was to accept their offerings, they expected him to do what they asked of him. What did they take him for? Did they really believe that mere human offerings were enough to bargain for his services? Upon seeing their wishes remaining unfulfilled and occasionally getting a golden plate thrown back to their faces, the people had to find new ways of demanding something from the fickle ‘god’.
So the trend of sending him human sacrifices began. Towns and villages would send to his temple the most beautiful men and women their people had to offer as if they were mere disposable objects. If Sukuna found the food offerings of poor taste, you can already imagine how the latter felt when he saw a beautifully clad woman being delivered at the foot of his throne as if she was the most precious gift they could give. Humans were truly disgusting. Did they insinuate that he couldn’t seduce a man or woman on his own? Did they insinuate that he was so horrible-looking that no men or women would want to bed him willingly? How outrageous and insulting to his person. Sukuna truly took this insult to heart. While the food offerings were occasionally accepted because they looked decent, sending over men and women was something Sukuna found deeply insulting to his person. It was a true hit to his unmeasurable ego.
The men and women sent to his place, unfortunately, paid for the foolishness of their elders. As soon as they set foot in his temple, trembling in fright, they were killed along with their escorts. But because Sukuna was bored, he humoured the elders. He ‘protected’ their villages for a while before he got bored again and decided to destroy that village. It was a never-ending cycle where the villages and towns would send whoever was the most pleasing looking one to death’s door.
Therefore, Sukuna was used to people trying to hold things over his head. He was used to people sending him things and then demanding something in return. And maybe that was the reason why he was so surprised upon entering his newfound temple one day and finding a nice scarf woven with the softest fabrics waiting for him at the foot of his throne on a little stool. It sat there, untouched.
With winter approaching, it must have been an offering from a human. With a frown, he picked up the scarf. It felt nice as he held it in his hands. He could tell it was woven with the utmost care. For a moment, Sukuna entertained the thought of shredding it to pieces to show his lack of intent to fulfil a wish. However, as soon as he wrapped it around his neck to test the softness of the fabric, he decided to keep it. It was warm. And while Sukuna cannot feel cold, the scarf felt nice around his neck. It was a foreign feeling which enveloped his heart at this moment. It was not unpleasant. In fact, he couldn’t tell if it was positive or negative but just for this once, he decided that this offering wasn’t bad. It wasn’t like anyone was waiting around with the scarf to ask something of him. There was no note, nothing with the fabric. So Sukuna, even with the pounding question, ‘who made this and why did they leave before his return to ask for something?’ accepted the gift.
Little did he know that it wouldn’t be the first offering given to him without a note or anything. The next time he was offered something from this mysterious person, it was in the middle of winter. This time, it was far colder than the other years. Sukuna was expecting to see snow covering the fields before the end of the year. Along with the approaching end of another year, Sukuna has received many gifts and demands. But he never saw the one who wove the scarf. Everyone who missed him when coming to his temple for a service would always write the demands on paper. And while he wouldn’t be able to distinguish between the person who gave him that scarf and the hundreds of other offerings, he felt as if it was not the person’s type to just write something on a mere piece of paper. Unlike the other villages who remained neutral with their gifts, this human was bold enough to give him something to wear. This scarf could have backfired to their faces if Sukuna was not pleased. He could have gone down the village and demanded the person who wove this fabric to show themselves if they didn’t want their village to burn. All to say, Sukuna could have been the monster described in tales. But this person still went through with their gift, laying it down quite nicely on a stool they must have brought with them. So, no. Sukuna couldn’t imagine that it was just a mere devotee who was too cowardly to face him when asking for their wish to be granted.
As he entered his temple after having returned from his bath in the hot spring he found when settling there, Sukuna was hit with the most pleasant smell. ‘Hot pot’, he muses as he stands with water trailing down his back. The hot pot was waiting, on the same stool where the scarf sat some weeks ago. It was warm despite it being winter. How did it brave the cold air outside without losing its warmth was a mystery to the curse. But he wasn’t one to refuse free food.
It was delicious. The meat was tender. The vegetables were well seasoned and melted on his tongue. He doesn’t know if it tasted particularly better than the other offerings because there were no expectations for him to fulfill a wish, but Sukuna could tell it was one of the best hot pot he had ever tasted in his life. He didn’t know why, but he was certain that the person behind this offering was the same as the person behind the scarf. If his curiosity hadn't already been awakened before, now Sukuna definitively wanted to meet that devotee. What was their wish for them to offer him such gifts?
It was during summer that Sukuna found out a little more about this mysterious person. As usual, he was coming back from a bath. This time, he decided to take one in the waterfalls because he was certain he would die if he set foot in the hot springs. Sukuna was musing at how long he ended up staying at this place. Normally, he would remain in a place for a few months and be gone before the people grew arrogant enough to claim the King of Curses had a favourite village. But this village might as well be his favourite. This mysterious devotee of his was cute with their mannerisms. They grew bolder after winter had passed. Always leaving little gifts here and there with no note attached. One time, he found a nice light kimono waiting for him near the end of spring. Similar to the scarf, it was made with good quality fabric which was expensive and difficult to come by. Sukuna never met someone who would not reveal themselves after the first two gifts. Normally, if they were anxious about meeting their doom, they would send in two gifts without telling him what they were expecting. They would lie through their teeth, claiming the gifts came from their best intentions. These people were the most disgusting. Second only to those who sent their daughters and sons to him. They thought they had leverage on him because they sent more gifts than the average devotees.
If Sukuna was honest with himself, he didn’t want to meet that mysterious devotee. He liked entertaining the thought that they didn’t expect anything from him. Deep in his heart, he feared that when he would meet them, the magic behind these gifts would disappear. He feared that the scarf would burn at his neck when they would prove to be like the others before them. But Sukuna would never admit this fear out loud. He had his reputation to uphold.
This time, when he entered his temple, Sukuna was pleasantly surprised. There, laying on the familiar stool which he would always place outside his temple after receiving the gift from this mysterious devotee, was a beautiful red spider lily with a note underneath it. Scowling, Sukuna marches towards the offending paper. His mind grew dark as he thought, ‘So they are the same as the others. Well, let’s read their demand and humour them. The punishment for trying to manipulate me will be far greater than the others before them.’ As he clutches the insulting piece of paper, Sukuna’s murderous vengeful thoughts stop in their tracks. It was unexpected as the King of Curses doubled over, laughing hysterically. If Sukuna was scary to the devotees in a normal setting, you can imagine how he appears right now, doubled over, laughing to hysterics while clutching the paper. One would pray for the poor soul who left that paper. Sukuna is unpredictable after all.
However, he didn’t want to kill this person. But he did think of them as foolish. Still, he tucked in the paper safely in the kimono they gave him. The flower was then safely placed on his armrest. What a peculiar mysterious devotee he has. Surely, they must have lost their mind. While Sukuna could consider himself to be handsome to some extent (women did throw themselves willingly at him when he would hide his demonic traits after all), he was not ‘beautiful’ as that devotee so nicely put it. He still couldn’t believe that they dared to describe him as such. Did they even know what he looked like? If they did, then that would mean that this little devotee of his lurks around, waiting for him to go away before sneaking in his temple to offer the gifts to him. How interesting. Sukuna will make sure to catch them next time. He now has to meet that human who called him ‘more beautiful than any red spider lilies that grow in the fields.'
So he began his plan. It seemed as if the pattern of the devotee was to leave gifts towards the start and end of each season. Near the end of summer, Sukuna decided to leave the temple. He walked the usual path leading to the waterfall. However, this time, he would wait at a reasonable distance for that little devotee to show themselves. And he waited for quite a while actually.
Right when Sukuna was about to admit defeat, he saw a little thing hurrying with a basket to his temple, climbing the stairs as best as they could. He sniffs a little and grins when he could make out the distinct smell of warm buns. As they stopped at the top of the stairs, he could finally make out their features. It was a woman. A young one at that. She brings in the little stool inside, most probably to set up the buns on it. Deciding that this little game has come to an end, he quickly appeared at the entrance of the temple. His grin widened as he saw her placing the buns meticulously on the stool.
‘‘So you are the mysterious little devotee.’’
The woman jumped in surprise, letting out a cute little yelp. However, she wasn’t cowering in fear. Instead, she bowed down to him. ‘A little bit lower than the others,’ Sukuna notices.
‘‘Ryomen Sukuna-sama.’’
He waved his hands dismissively. He approaches her, his form towering over her. ‘What a cute little thing’, he muses while taking a bite out of the warm bun. It was delicious. Just as he expected coming from his mysterious devotee. Still, he had to confirm her identity.
‘‘Woman. Was it you who gave me the scarf, kimono and that letter?’’
She flinches at the mention of the letter, bowing down deeper in hopes of hiding her embarrassment. She never meant to get caught. She thought she could admire him from the shadows without him ever acknowledging her presence. She was perfectly content with just leaving him food and clothing on that stool. Why did he have to come back early? Now that it was all out in the open, she was certain he would ask her to stop giving him things. He was most likely creeped out by her stalkerish behaviour. Even her friends told her it was creepy to keep doing that.
‘‘Raise your head, woman. It’s insulting to speak with a kneeling form. And what’s with that ashamed face? Finally realised that you confused a monster with a flower?’’
He snickers. However, his mocking laughter died on his lips as she looked up at him with fiery insulted eyes. ‘‘I stand-by my creepy and stalkerish behaviour. But don’t you dare say that I confused you with a flower! Even if you might not see that form as beautiful, you are as majestic as these spider lilies.’’
‘God just kill me!’ was the only thought which passed through (y/n)’s mortified mind at that moment as she realises the true meaning of the words she uttered. Sukuna was stunned into silence. ‘Bold,’ Sukuna thought. And very bold indeed was the woman because as soon as she finished her little declaration, she tried to run past Sukuna’s towering form. ‘Foolish.’ He grabbed her by the back of her clothes and lifted her a few centimetres off the ground, as would a cat with her kittens.
‘‘And where do you think you are going, woman? I haven’t finished speaking with you yet.’’
‘‘Please, I’m sorry,’’ ‘Oh, so she is like the rest of them after all. She is scared of me despite her earlier declaration.’ Sukuna gritted his teeth. ‘‘I promise I won’t bother you with my gifts anymore. If you want to kill me for insubordination, then do so.’’ Well, that’s new. She knows her place. ‘‘No one is going to die. Now tell me your wish.’’
She looks stunned for a moment. (Y/n) did really look like a kitten right now. Not only is Sukuna still holding her by her collar, but she remains unmoving with confused eyes. ‘Wish?’ She thought aloud.
‘‘Yes, wish. Tell me now. I don’t have all day.’’
Poor (Y/n). She had nothing to wish for. She never expected anything to come out from the offerings. For someone who was perfectly content with staying in the shadows, it was a sudden change of events. So sudden that she couldn’t really comprehend what he was saying. ‘‘What wish?’’
‘‘Come on human. Everyone has wishes. Who do you want me to kill? A cheating husband? A woman who is trying to seduce him?’’
‘‘What?! No! I don’t want you to kill anyone! Also, I’m not married!’’
‘‘Oh? Interesting. So what do you want then? Don’t tell me you went through all that trouble only to want nothing? That’s stupid. I know for a fact that humans don’t waste their goods for nothing.’’
‘‘I swear I don’t want anything! I didn’t even expect you to ever discover my identity.’’
Sukuna squints at this. ‘Lying foolish little woman, I see how this is.’ He shook her a little with the back of her collar. She clenches her jaw, her face contorting. Desperately, she tries to stop him by grabbing onto his arm.
‘‘Don’t! I get motion sickness. I feel like I want to throw up,’’ she grits through clenched teeth.
Sukuna drops her unceremoniously, placing some distance between them in case she really did throw up. She takes some deep breaths, colour returning to her face.
‘‘I honestly want nothing, Sukuna-sama. I just wanted to show you my gratitude, that is all.’’
‘Gratitude? I didn’t know humans were still as naive and incredibly foolish as before.’
‘‘I’ve heard of the tales where you burn villages and towns indiscriminately. I just wanted to show you gratitude for sparing us each season. Also, I thought that you must not have much to eat here in the mountains. So I wanted to cook something for you when I could.’’
‘‘What about the scarf and kimono?’’
‘‘Well...the scarf was for winter. I don’t know if you can catch a cold. The kimono was for summer. So that you could be more comfortable during the heat of the season.’’
‘‘No ulterior motives? I don’t believe you. Humans don’t do that. I know your kind very well.’’
‘‘No one has ever shown you kindness before?’’
‘‘There’s no kindness in this world, woman.’’
His thoughts on humans baffled her. She couldn’t imagine how it must have felt. He must have been lonely as people only seem to offer him something in return for something else. All these years and he never knew kindness? While she did recognise the selfish nature of humans, it was surprising he never had an offering without any expectations hiding behind a gift.
(Y/n), determined, stood up, brushed off the dust from her clothes before facing him and looking at him straight in the eyes.
‘‘I have a wish then, Sukuna-sama.’’
The King of curses waits with bated breath for her request. Part of him didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to remain oblivious, wishing he never sought her out after all. As soon as she speaks of her wish, she will break the illusion she crafted so easily. That of a sincere devotee. He wanted to preserve the thought of this woman as such. A person who showed him kindness without demanding anything in return. But humans were disgusting creatures. And she will prove just that.
‘‘I wish to serve you for as long as you will have me. I want to still be allowed to send you gifts until the day you decide that you don’t want me to anymore. Until the day you destroy the village, I wish to visit you and observe you from a distance. Will you allow me this selfish wish, Sukuna-sama?’’
If someone asked Sukuna how he fell in love for the first time, he would have to say it was at this very moment. As she looked at him in the eye, determination shining as bright as his lust for violence, Sukuna found himself captured in her web. What a foolish woman. But at this moment, he also decided that this was his foolish woman.
Sukuna felt kindness and love for the first time, and oh, how sweet it tasted. As sweet as those buns that she made. As addicting as that hot pot. As delicate as the flower she left for him when she had nothing more to offer. As light as that kimono which he wears proudly. And as warm as that scarf which he sports no matter the season. The love she showered him with, is something that Sukuna will make sure to treasure in his heart. A pure, devoted, unconditional love that doesn’t expect anything from him in return.
In the narrow Venetian street,
On the wall above the garden gate
(Within, the breath of the rose is sweet,
And the nightingale sings there, soon and late),
Stands Saint Christopher, carven in stone,
With the little child in his huge caress,
And the arms of the baby Jesus thrown
About his gigantic tenderness;
And over the wall a wandering growth
Of darkest and greenest ivy clings,
And climbs around them, and holds them both
In its netted clasp of knots and rings,
Clothing the saint from foot to beard
In glittering leaves that whisper and dance
To the child, on his mighty arm upreared,
With a lusty summer exuberance.
To the child on his arm the faithful saint
Looks up with a broad and tranquil joy;
His brows and his heavy beard aslant
Under the dimpled chin of the boy,
Who plays with the world upon his palm,
And bends his smiling looks divine
On the face of the giant mild and calm,
And the glittering frolic of the vine.
He smiles on either with equal grace,—
On the simple ivy's unconscious life,
And the soul in the giant's lifted face,
Strong from the peril of the strife:
For both are his own,—the innocence
That climbs from the heart of earth to heaven,
And the virtue that gently rises thence
Through trial sent and victory given.
Grow, ivy, up to his countenance,
But it cannot smile on my life as on thine;
Look, Saint, with thy trustful, fearless glance,
Where I dare not lift these eyes of mine.
----
Saint Christopher
William Dean Howells 1837-1920
----
Graphic - Workshop of Cornelis Engebrechtsz c.1462-1527
The one person Sukuna holds in the highest esteem is her. The one who worshipped him with everything she had. The one who gave everything to him while not awaiting anything from him. The one who showed him unconditional kindness.
Sukuna rarely makes any mistakes. Everything he does, he does it without regret. He never stopped to ruminate over the lives he took so easily in the past. In fact, ruminating over such trivial matters is useless. To him, humans were mere insects. They didn’t matter. Only he mattered in this world. And that was how things were supposed to be. He wasn’t lonely. How could a man who never knew companionship feel the cold loneliness which envelopes one’s soul? He had no need for food although he does enjoy indulging if the meals look appetising enough. Many thought it was his one weakness. The only way they could get rid of him. But oh, how wrong these pitiful souls were. You should think twice before trying to poison the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna. He doesn’t take too kindly to fools who believe that Ryomen Sukuna has a weakness. He has none. Or so he thought.
He never met someone like her before. As he watched her prance in the kitchen he made just for her, he wondered how deep her kindness runs in her blood. How many buttons does he need to push to see her crack and break? How much more until this little foolish devotee sees him as the monster that everyone claims he is? He knew which buttons to push. She bared her soul to him. She foolishly embraces vulnerability when any sane individuals would protect their vulnerability in front of him. He knew everything about her but was never able to understand her. She was like an artist who bared their whole soul on a work of art but who in the end is still a mystery to the public. She shielded nothing and yet everything at the same time. She gave him everything he never asked for. Who needs love when you have power? Who needs understanding when you could kill anyone who comes in between you and your goal?
Ryomen Sukuna needed nothing that she gave. He had no need for such trivial frivolities. And yet, as he sits on his throne of bones, he finds himself cursing her name. She was his most devoted worshipper, but what a cruel liar she was. Her love is engraved in his soul and memory. Her promises are bitter and burn his heart. He has had many betray him in the past. They were all executed on the spot for their insubordination. But she was different. She sang praises in his name, traced and kissed every past scar as if her life depended on it. She promised him everything her mere being could offer. He knew better than to trust humans. They were born in a cruel world. They had to adapt to survive. Humans betray their brothers and are fickle-minded. One time they love you, the next they curse you. He knew this pattern all too well. One time he was loved by all, the next he was cursed with their fears and hatred. And she was no different than the others. So he really should have known better than to believe her sweet promises. This is a mistake he made in a moment of weakness. ‘The consequences of this one mistake, was it all worth it?’ He asks himself in a moment of reminiscence.
His memories take him back to a time when he was free; when he could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin; when he could feel the soft touches she would give him without expecting anything in return. The love she so carelessly gave him every chance she got. He could still remember the time she was leaving him little gifts at the temple he was staying at. This memory is one of the sweetest ones yet. No matter how much he curses her name in his old battered soul, he would always remember the unconditional kindness she showered him with. The scarf she offered him still hangs around his neck to this day. Some days, when the pain is too strong, he finds himself clutching it, glaring at the offending material. On one hand, a flame would always appear, dangerously narrowing on the silky material. But just as he would officially destroy her last memory, he would retract the flames. With an angry scowl, he would put it back to its place. His neck was always cold anyway. But the scarf burns at his neck every day. A token of her love and betrayal. He hates the gift as much as he loved it in the past. He remembers how her hands, so small compared to his, would tug on the scarf after every battle. She would put it back in its place and even tug him down with it to sneak in a kiss or two if she is feeling cheeky enough. ‘Such an adorable little vixen,’ he muses in the loneliness of his domain.
This moment takes him back to another time. A memory he might cherish as much as he cherishes their first meeting. His little worshipper always knew her place. She knew not to demand anything from him. She knew her place and she stayed there, never crossing the unspoken boundary he set to protect himself from the heartbreak that he knew would eventually come one day. And yet, he never noticed the boundary-blurring with every moment they spent together. It wasn’t until their fifth year together did he realise his growing fondness for the woman. Needless to say, it was something the King of Curses never expected. But he didn’t feel uncomfortable with this little knowledge. In fact, he didn’t care as much as he thought he would. He put himself in a vulnerable position but he knew that he could trust her with his life. ‘Another mistake that he made,’ he realised when sorcerers began narrowing on him on that dreadful night.
The King realises as he goes through their time together in his mind that he indulged her rarely. But the one moment he did, she was radiating happiness. Her wish was quite simple but foreign to him. Never did Sukuna hold much importance over the lantern festival before. To him, it was useless. He never participated in what he sees as a silly tradition. And yet, he remembers fondly with a slight smile gracing his hardened features, he took his little worshipper there one time. That was the only thing she asked him during their whole life together. ‘‘Sukuna, could we head down to town tonight? I want to light up a lantern for my family.’’ At the time, Sukuna was confused. His human never mentioned her family before. What brought it up? But judging by her tone of voice, he could tell she cared for them. The concept of family was a foreign concept to him. He couldn’t remember one time in his previous life where he was surrounded by loved ones. With a scoff, the curse turned his back on her, walking away without a word. It was only when he didn’t hear her footsteps following behind him as per usual that he turned around with a frown. She looked so crestfallen that Sukuna, in his unbeaten heart, felt some regret. ‘‘Well, what are you waiting for, human? Didn’t you want to light up some lanterns?’’ The smile that she gave him was so beautiful. He followed behind her, noticing the slight skipping in her footsteps. Sukuna didn’t really understand why his woman was so happy at the idea of lighting up some lanterns for the dead, but seeing as it made her happy, he reckoned he could indulge her every once in a while.
That night, as they watched the lanterns sail away, she murmured in the dead of the night. ‘‘Thank you, Sukuna. I am forever grateful to you for indulging me tonight.’’ One of his hands went up, carelessly dismissively shaking his hand. ‘‘If you want to do something, don’t you ever hesitate to ask, human.’’ The unspoken words of Sukuna rang louder than anything else. The meaning behind his words was loud and clear for both of them, ‘you are the only one who is allowed to ask me anything.’ That moment was (Y/N)’s favourite. She would always recall their first lantern festival with a big grin on her face. While it wasn’t Sukuna’s most favourite moment, it did belong to the rank of his favourites. His most favourite memory would always be their first meeting. If it wasn’t for their first meeting, they would not be standing there that day, his hand holding hers tightly as they went back up to their temple.
Sukuna never realised just how much he couldn’t live without her until the day he lost her. He grew so used to her presence that he forgot one important fact amidst her bittersweet promises. ‘‘I will never leave you, Sukuna. Even if the gods were to come in between us, I will fight my way back to you.’’ This promise blindsided him for fifty blissful and peaceful years. As they spent blissful years together, he never paid attention to the glaring signs. He was blind to these little telltale signs that every human showed. He never paid attention to how her hair would lose its natural shine and turn grey before becoming as white as the moon. He never noticed how she would grow weaker and weaker as time went by. To him, she was still his most worthy worshipper. To him, she never lost her beauty. And yet, all the signs were there. Old age. What a dreadful and useless thing for Sukuna. Curses don’t age. He never saw it as a curse. And yet, as he clutches at her frail hand, begging for her to fight for him against time and death, a losing battle from the start, Sukuna realises just how immortality was truly another curse in itself. He lost himself in the belief that (Y/N) would live forever. As foolish as this belief was, he truly believed in it. So much so that he ended up forgetting that humans were so painfully mortal. Even if he kept her safe from illness and enemies, time was something that he could not fight against. Invisible but ever-present, it once more reminded Sukuna of his own miserable existence. It reminded him that he could never grow close to a human without the pain which would accompany the inevitable loss. It reminded him of the reason why he was so guarded against her love at first. He was so lost in her affections that he forgot to shield his own heart, too busy in trying to uncover the secrets of her soul. Love truly made him blind and careless. He loathes and adores (Y/N). He always finds himself materialising a copy of his human every time loneliness hits. When the memories are not enough to keep him company, he would indulge and create an illusion so perfect that it could fool anyone. But never him. The memory of her death is as engraved in his memory as were their little moments together. During these moments of illusions, he would always enquire about the same thing in the privacy of his mind as he holds the copy of the woman he loved to his chest, playing with her hair absentmindedly. He basked in those little moments of illusions. He desperately wanted to ask her these haunting questions, but he knew it would be useless. Only the original and real (Y/N) would have the answers to his questions. No matter how much he tried to coax the answers from her in the past, she never revealed the reasons behind her affections. That was the one thing she kept to herself. That was the one thing Sukuna wanted to selfishly take from her. But he never did. He let her keep these answers to herself. But he will always ponder over the reasons behind her blind affection in the privacy of his mind just as he used to do when she was still alive. He fears that if he was to ask these questions aloud to the copy, the little temporary haven he created in a moment of weakness would shatter before his very own eyes. ‘Why was she so adamant on loving him? What made her devote her whole existence to him?’ He will never know the mystery that this human was. And it is infuriating.
Her hand was cold to the touch. Her eyes were dim, void of any signs of the devotion she held for him. Sukuna, for the very first time, cried. It first began as small droplets but as reality sinks in, he threw himself over her body, clutching at her with every fibre of his being. No one would ever witness the King of Curses cry like he did that day. As he held her body, his own body shaking violently, he tried to curse her amidst tears. He was the very definition of despair at this moment. During this moment of loss, he was not the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, feared by curses and humans alike. For once, he was a mere man who could not prevent death from stealing the one person he held in high esteem. The one person that was his equal. The one person who deserved more than anything Sukuna could ever offer. All of his logic was forgotten as he tried to curse her existence to see her alive and well once more even if she would hate him for transforming into a curse.
But it didn’t work that way. Life is cruel, death even more so. Sukuna experienced the seasons in a daze. He was there, but not really there at the same time. While he was still threatening, curses and humans alike could see that the King of Curses was not the same anymore. He was merely existing. During their short time together, he always envisioned her standing by his side. The probability that she would disappear one day never crossed his mind. He was the strongest. Only a fool would try to come in between them. What they had was sacred. If one dared to give their insignificant input, he would kill them right away. He always made sure to keep her safe. He always made sure to never kill before her. She was pure, a being of light unlike him. Needless to say that her death hit him like a tidal wave. He never expected it. He never prepared for it. It was all so sudden to him. In his mind, she was still alive. But every time he would return back to the temple expecting for her to come barging in his arms for a hug, he would wake up from his daze, stare blankly at the entry. It wasn’t until the lantern festival was near that Sukuna let out his tears again.
In her honour, he lit a lantern. For the first time, he brought his hands together and prayed to the gods above. ‘‘May her soul rest in heaven. To the gods above, I beg of you. Do not hold her accountable for my sins. She was a kind soul. Tender in her love and compassion. She would never dream of hurting anyone. I would take any punishment you send my way as long as I know she is safe and happy. And if her soul was to reincarnate, let her be happy. Let her live to have children if she wants them. I only want her to be happy. That is what she deserves.’’
That night, as he was heading back to his temple, he fell into the trap of fellow sorcerers. Rumours of Ryomen Sukuna being weakened reached the most prominent clans. To eradicate what they see as an abomination, they waited for a moment of weakness and finally, the day of salvation has come. In his grief, Sukuna only fought half-heartedly. He didn’t care much for anything anymore. She was all he wanted. Perhaps this was the gods’ punishment? Or perhaps they took pity on him and decided to let him meet his most precious human again? He should have known better than to wish on stars though. Sukuna vacantly glares at the pool of blood below his throne of bones. ‘Gods are as fickle and cruel as humans.’ He remembered the pain as they cut off his fingers, dismembering his physical body without an ounce of remorse. Their cruelty that night reminded him of his own cruelty towards anyone who would wrong him. A voice in the back of his mind resonated loud and clear, ‘you deserve it, you wretched being.’ Sukuna didn’t know if this voice was his mind turning against him or if this was one of the sorcerer’s last words to him. It didn’t matter if it was a sorcerer’s voice or his own mind though. No. Because that night, all that mattered was the belief that his suffering would finally end. He would be finally able to meet with his human again. But the incompetence of the sorcerers didn’t give him this joy. No. They sealed him away. They let him ruminate over his memories as boredom overtakes him.
During one thousand years, he saw, again and again, his meeting with (Y/N). Every day, he saw again and again as she took her last breath. Perhaps this was his punishment. But as he promised, he would take it. So long as she can live well in heaven, Sukuna didn’t care much for what would happen to him in this personalised hell. He was content with the thought of her being happy. And if it was true, if indeed Gojo Satoru was the strongest as he always claimed, then he would be doing Sukuna a favour. Sukuna will make sure that Gojo Satoru would personally hand him the finishing blow which would end his misery. And if the gods are generous, they would let him meet (Y/N) again. But for now, he would bide his time. He will relive his mistakes again and again. And like every time, after relieving these precious moments, again and again, he would smile the smile she adored so much. ‘‘Even if I were to be given another chance, I would still make the same mistakes again and again, if only to see you again, to love you again.’’ Because of these mistakes that he made, they were beautiful. They gave him a chance to live the happiest moments of his life. And for that, he would take anything which comes at him. There was no one else that Sukuna held in the greatest regard than himself. That is what the legend surrounding him says. But this is only partly true. The one person Sukuna holds in the highest esteem is her. The one who worshipped him with everything she had. The one who gave everything to him while not awaiting anything from him. The one who showed him unconditional kindness.
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