Form: Longfic (ongoing)
True Form Sukuna x Reader I 18+ Explicit I Slowburn
Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence
Summary: Living an unhappy, suffocating and lonely life in the city of Tokyo, you dream of change, an adventure, a different life even. Little did you expect, that a Stranger named Sukuna would walk from ancient times right into your modern world. And little did you know that this captivating Stranger, being on a secret mission himself, would turn your life upside down…
Permission
Chapter 1 / Read on AO3
Form: Longfic (completed)
True Form Sukuna x Reader | 18+ Explicit | Slowburn
Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence
Word count: 171k
Chapter: 48 / 48
Summary: After Sukuna destroyed your Village, you’re on your way to find a new purpose of your life in his shrine. How will serving the King of Curses play out for you?
One-Shots:
Oh what a sight
Open up. Nice and wide.
Harder (Permission)
Pond and Poetry (Permission)
Would you still love me if I was a worm?
Soft Circles
Foreplay - Part 1 / Part 2
Taking Over
Scratches
A Dance for a King
All of them are True Form Sukuna x Reader. You can find them all and more super short writings on my AO3 and here under the hashtag: #nighty drabbles
The way Sukuna’s eyes fall upon yours consumes you like a force of nature. And for the split of a second, something gentle flickers in those eyes, those deep red, murderous eyes — something you never thought you’d see in a gaze that’s meant for you. Still, your mind tells you it’s impossible. Maybe it’s just the distance, maybe you didn’t see right. Maybe it wasn’t there at all.
Or was it?
The street seems to go on forever. With this nasty sting in your ankle that burdens every step, it feels like you’re walking on the spot, feels like you’re not approaching him significantly — not enough to ever reach him. Another breeze dances between you, engulfs you and hushes against your back. It guides you closer. Cold, but gentle.
The birds whistle calmly through the air, cicadas chirp inside the grass. Strands of your hair tumble into your vision and you tug them behind your ear, before you bury your hands inside your sleeves and cross your arms in front of you. Sukuna stirs, crosses his arms as well and raises his chin, now looking down at you with pensive eyes — and you lower your gaze again, suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over your body.
The wind stops and the nature grows quiet as you finally arrive and stop in front of him. You look up.
Silence.
The wound on his face looks even more poignant in broad daylight. It has dried up. Traces of dark red scabs now decorate his forehead, two of them carving right into his eyebrow. He hasn’t healed it yet. You wish he did.
Silence.
Sukuna’s eyes muster you. All four of them muster your hair and your eyes, your cheeks and your mouth, your neck and your scar. Up and down, up and down. The weight of his gaze is heavy, consuming — like it always is. It makes you feel so small. He parts his lips to speak, but pauses as if hesitant. Odd.
The air between you feels different. Somehow there’s this smothering feeling. This smothering feeling of — silence. Like a wall between two souls in need.
Your limbs grow heavy, like lead. And yet they tingle as if you want to run away and towards him at the same time. With a dry throat, you part your lips too, not sure if you should say something or wait until he speaks first — all of that, with your heart hammering inside your chest. Hopeful, somehow.
Shouldn’t you be angry with him?
And before you can act, Sukuna curls his lips into a pout, raises his lower right hand and snips his fingers against your forehead — flck.
“Ow!”—
“Shut up.” he chides, now looking down at you with an exhorting look on his face. “And get that carriage running again instead...” he dismissively tosses the car key into your hands, before he turns to sit down on the doorstep of the hut.
And with that, any empathy, any softness, any relief you hoped to see in his demeanour before just proved to be nonexistent. How embarrassing.
Everything’s just the same.
“Ahhh there you are!” one of the front doors next to you opens, letting the voice of the old lady chime brightly through the gap. She peeks over your shoulder to the old grump. “Looking better now, I see! The breakfast was tasty, yes?!”
She warms your heart.
“Yes, it was delicious.” you smile and bow your head. “Thank you so much!”
The old lady nods cheerfully, “Very well. Oh,” she adds, “have you seen the little kitten by chance?”
You tighten your fingers around the key. It hurts.
“He slipped out the door after his breakfast. You see, he can be really stubborn and these fields and forests are vast. I just hope he doesn’t get lost around here all alone.” she continues and the sincere worry in her eyes breaks your heart.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll find his way.” you force a smile at her, before you hear Sukuna impatiently tap his foot behind you, tap, tap. Nervously, you peek over your shoulder, only to see him raise his eyebrow at you and nod towards the key in your hands. You hesitate, but then turn back to the lady.
“Excuse me,” you say and her attention shifts back to you, “we have problems with our car.” you point down the street and her eyes follow, “Is there a mechanic around here?”
“Ohhh! I figured this one was yours! Yes, yes, yes.” she nods and walks out of her door with careful steps, waving at you to come with her. You exhale quietly, leave Sukuna on that doorstep and follow her, feeling sorry that you had to switch the topic like that. How insensitive.
She leads you to a house on the opposite side down the street. An old car is parked right next to it.
“Hikawa-san!” she yells and rings his doorbell, bzzz. You flinch at her tone, but she turns to you and adds, “Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t mind… Hikawa-san!” she yells again, this time more sternly, and rings the doorbell three more times, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.
“Yes, yes I’m coming.” an elderly voice echoes through the insides of the house. Heavy footsteps slump towards the door, before a stooped man with grey hair and thick eyebrows opens it.
“What is it?” he nags at the lady, before he blinks over to you. Grim.
“Her car is broken. Go help her!” she complains with wide gestures —
“I’m retired!” he snaps back as if he was asked to be compliant in a crime. And you blink, being caught off guard by the whole situation.
“Hikawa-san!” the lady scoffs and slaps his arm, making the old man grunt.
It must’ve worked, because he then blinks to you. His lip jitters discerningly as he musters you up and down, sucks his teeth and squints his eyes. That his gaze makes you feel uncomfortable would be an understatement. And yet, you force a smile and bow your head.
“Fine.“ he nags, completely and utterly bothered. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“W-We lost control over the car and we—“
“Who’s we?” he interrupts you, making you clench your jaw.
“Me and my boyfriend.”
He cocks his hairy eyebrow, staring at you with sharp eyes, “Uhuh.”
It throws you off.
“We uh, we lost track and drove into the ditch next to the road.” you continue, trying to focus. “Then the battery died.”
Hikawa-san nods a few times. And with that, he waves at you to make way — but before you can move, he already shoved you to the side and walks up the street.
“Don’t worry, he’s always like that.” the old lady smiles at you and urges you to follow him. And hesitantly, you do.
The hut comes back into view and you spot Sukuna still sitting in the doorway, with his lower pair of arms hidden inside his Haori. Waiting.
Hikawa-san immediately approaches him — and stops as soon as he sees his face, almost frozen. He stares at him in his grim demeanour, but there’s something else twitching into the wrinkles of his worn out face. Deeply disturbed.
It doesn’t sit right with you. Not at all. In fact, anger begins to sizzle in your stomach. This man already pisses you off, the way he talks and stares at you — and now the way he stares at him. Mustering him, as if Sukuna and his appearance was something that isn’t supposed to be here. As if he was a sinister quirk of nature.
“What’re you looking at?” Sukuna mutters with a voice that sounds more like a warning than a question — but Hikawa-san just huffs. And your stomach coils, seeing Sukuna so focused on the old man like a predator, ready to snap. The air begins to shift.
Hikawa-san sneers at you, pointing with his finger to Sukuna, “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Is that the mechanic?” Sukuna hisses back, not even looking at you. But your jaw doesn’t move, your vocal cords stay mute. Torn between supporting an act of violence and the urgent need to get the fuck out of here, you can’t speak, can’t even breathe or move at all, too overwhelmed and—
“Yes!” the old lady chimes proudly in between, followed by an amused chuckle.
“…Fine.” Sukuna and the old man grunt in unison, before the latter huffs, almost impressed. You wish you could laugh, too.
“Strong fella, eh? He must help.” Hikawa-san grins all of a sudden and nods at Sukuna to come with him — as if he changed his mind about him entirely. Did you misread him?
“Thank you, Hikawa-san!” the old lady chimes and steps back into the doorway of her house. “I’ll bring you lunch later.”
“Yea, yea.” he waves her off and proceeds to walk down the street towards the car.
You blink over to the lady and she nods at you with a smile, before vanishing behind her front door, tschk.
Somewhat relieved, for now at least, you turn to Sukuna whose stabbing eyes dart over to you as well. He clicks his tongue and gets up. Annoyed. It lets a familiar dryness wash over your mouth, as he wordlessly walks past you to follow the old man. And you hurry after him, want to speak, but your tongue feels heavy. Actually, you don’t really want to say it, because he doesn’t deserve your empathy… but—
“Sorry about that.” you mumble quietly, walking next to him. Small.
It takes a few steps, until he grants you an answer, “About what?”
“About him and how rude he was.” you admit in a quiet voice, trying to make sure that the wind won’t carry your words over to the mechanic. “I felt so angry at the way he looked at you. So stupid!” you utter, but then soften your voice, “…You must get that alot, huh?”
Sukuna blinks over to you — dangerous, as if you just brought a lurking sickness over him. The air shifts, as if you did something wrong. Almost, as if you poked into a hornets nest — the hornets nest that’s walking right beside you.
“Who are you to pity me like that?” Sukuna mumbles resentfully. And you halt, with your pulse rising. The undertone in his voice alone was terrifying — you never heard him like that. Hesitantly you open your mouth to speak and apologise, but—
“How utterly arrogant.” he flares his sharp eyes right at you and steps closer, looming his monstrous figure over yours and down to your ear, making sure those following words will sear right into your benevolent brain, to make sure you will understand every word as if it was law.
“Know your place, woman.” he whispers and leans even closer, making you flinch and feel his breath hot against your skin. “Looking down on me it is not.”
Your stomach coils, with your mind pounding against your forehead like a wound that inflamed itself. He means it. And you curse this moment, him and yourself. The key pokes sharply into your palm from the pressure you’re holding it with. You might think it could break through your skin, bury into your flesh and draw blood—
“Oi!” Hikawa-san calls from the distance, making you flinch again. “What about the key?”
“Yeah,” Sukuna coos through his teeth, “What about the key, mh?”
And he turns back forward to approach the car, making you exhale as if you’ve been holding your breath. Your jaw hurts from the force you’ve been biting it, while your pulse keeps throbbing in your neck. It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, to swallow his words and focus, before you hurry after them.
“About time.” Hikawa-san nags with a stern look on his face that’s almost as unsettling as Sukuna’s threats. He motions to the car. “Did you drive that thing?”
“Yea...” you drawl and can’t shake the feeling that he’s implying something here.
“Looks like it.” he replies with a smug grin. It’s almost as if he wants to appear manly and cool next to Sukuna now. How ugly.
“At first glance, the damage doesn’t look too bad. Might only need a few fixes. The battery died, you said?”
“Yes, the lights went out.”
“Uhuh.” he ponders. “Did you try another start?”
“No, as I said the—“
“Show me.” he commands as if you’re not a reliable source.
Sukuna quietly crosses his arms in the corner of your eyes. Great.
You focus, trying to stay calm while you have to deal with both of these obnoxious men, hoping this whole thing will be over soon. Reluctantly, you unlock the car, beep, beep, and get in. You insert the key and— mememememe…mememememe…
The engine cranks and fights and rattles but — it doesn’t start. Surprise!
“Yes, yes, sounds like the battery.” Hikawa-san concludes and you close your eyes, forcing yourself not to blare the honk to shut him up. “Release the handbrake, we need to get it out of that ditch first to take a proper look — Oi, big boy!” he snips at Sukuna, making you freeze. The mechanic motions his gnarly finger towards the rear of the vehicle. “You gotta push!”
If he only knew that his snappy behaviour towards Sukuna would be enough to bring harm over the whole village. And yet, part of you wishes you could be amused instead, by how Sukuna is ordered around like that. That prick deserves it, after all. Still, your body tells you to be aware, to listen even closer now. That mechanic’s life is in danger, maybe even over. Even though Hikawa-san pisses you off to no end, you still need him.
How are we supposed to get out of there if he kills him?
Clck — you release the handbrake, listening to the ever growing silence. Nervously, your eyes peek at Sukuna. His jaw tenses and releases, again and again, while his eyes are focused on that old man, before they dart over to you.
And for everyone’s sake, you let your face grow soft, quietly pleading him to get going, “Sukuna-sa—“
“What are you waiting for? Get your ass over there!“ Hikawa-san sharply talks over you as if you aren’t even present. And Sukuna’s eyes dart back to him, with his face losing its tension — as if he’s finally made up his mind.
“Careful, old man.” he mutters and moves towards the back of the vehicle. You nervously pick on your sweater as you watch the old mechanic suck his teeth.
“Heh. C’mon!” Hikawa-san motions to come after him and points into the village. “You gotta move it down the street, over to my house.”
And with that, the mechanic shuffles down the road in his elderly pace, leaving the task of moving the car out of the ditch to you and Sukuna. Alone.
Amazing.
You exhale sharply and step out of the car with your left hand lingering on the steering wheel and your right one on the opened door in front of you.
“Okay, I’ll steer us out.” you announce, before glancing over to Sukuna who doesn’t even seem to listen. With a pissed look on his face, he places all of his four hands against the back of the car, preparing to push.
What an odd sight. He must hate this so much.
And for the split of a second, you even allow yourself to be amused by it and bite your lips to suppress a cheeky grin. You wouldn’t even care if he kills that old rude man for his dictating orders, if it just meant for you to witness how this arrogant piece of royalty, the King of Curses himself, pushes a car out of some dirt like an ordinary peasant.
And with that, the car starts moving — and you weren’t ready. At all.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” you shout, losing hold of the wheel and even bump your shoulder against the door frame, as the force resembles more an ambush than a careful manoeuvre. The plants and twigs and dirt beneath the wheels crack and bend loudly under its weight as Sukuna abruptly pushes the vehicle even deeper into the foliage, as if it was nothing more than a shopping cart. And it stops, still off the road.
“Great!” you scoff, rubbing soothingly over your left shoulder. It hurts.
“Oi!” Sukuna shouts and steps out from behind the car to approach you. “Are you stupid?”
“Me?!” you shout back, as if he personally squished one of your already strained neurones between his fingers. “I’m sorry you didn’t bother to count down!”
“Oh yeah?” he taunts and steps even closer, “You said you’ll steer. So steer.”
“Fine!” you hiss and turn back to the wheel. “Should I count then?”
“Shut up.” he growls and stomps back to his position behind the car, cursing under his breath. “Brat.”
“Brat.” you quietly parrot him and rotate the wheel to manoeuvre the axle into position. “Just go slower!”
A pause.
“…Three!” Sukuna ‘counts’ and pushes again. Slower? Yes — but still too hard.
The car hops forward, shoves itself past the foliage and, unfortunately, against you at the same time, thanks to your meticulous preparation on the wheel.
“Agh!” you shout as it jabs against your legs and almost sweeps you off your feet, almost has you dangling off the steering wheel for dear life. For fucks sake!
And the car comes to a halt. Again.
“Stop this fucking nonsense.” Sukuna growls and approaches you with heavy steps, just as you regain your position on the wheel with aching shins and throbbing feet. “Piss off!” he spits and promptly grabs the neck of your sweater.
“No!” you shout and claw your fingers tightly around the wheel, but he easily yanks you away as if you were nothing but a doll. The grass scrunches under your feet as you stumble backwards — but this overwhelming urge to prove yourself is fuming up inside your chest.
And without any other thought you dash forward. Just as he gets a hold of the wheel, you slip under his arm and shove yourself between him and the car.
“That’s mine!“ you grind your teeth and use your butt to push against his groin, trying to take up space and push him away from your spot behind the wheel.
“You little—” he growls and easily pulls you away another time, making you scoff and immediately go at him again.
Driven by everything but survival instinct — probably most by pent up anger — you grab and pull on his shoulder and Haori, slap and punch him, too. Inaudible curses and grunts utter through Sukuna’s breaths as he resists your attacks, adjusts his stance to block you and yanks himself out of your grip whenever you have him, while he simultaneously keeps shoving himself further between you and the wheel to keep you from reaching it at all. Even the car begins to dance under the motions, while the birds and bees listen to your miserable slaps and punches, hisses and curses.
Ridiculous.
“Let me do it!” you seethe and despite his large figure, you manage to squeeze behind his back and climb onto the driver's seat, with your left leg kneeling on the cushion and your right foot steady on the doorframe, almost tangled into his Haori.
“You’re such a huge fucking annoyance...” Sukuna growls and extends his lower arm to push you back and flush against the driver’s seat — bam! — “…for someone so small.”
You gasp and your heart slips, can’t help to swallow a smirk about his comment. Asshole.
Movement seems impossible. He truly has you locked into this position.
Sukuna grabs the wheel and leans forward. Slowly the car begins to move. With your leg squeezed beneath your weight, feeling it prickling hot with the steps of a thousand ants, you push your upper body further against him and manage to slip your left arm through his upper and lower one.
“Get. A-way!” you hiss through your teeth, reaching towards the wheel — desperately trying to close the last inch between your fingertips and the wheel itself. And for the split of a second, a diabolic smirk twitches onto his disdain filled face — and you don’t know if he’s mad or amused by this. Just like you.
“Such a pesky little bitch.” he snarls back and slaps your hand away, before he pushes you even harder into the cushion.
“Hah!” you pant at the impact, as feeling in your legs becomes unbearable. The car keeps crawling.
With laboured breath, you shift your weight, manage to slip your legs out and shove your feet against his moving hips, trying to push him out of the doorframe.
“I can do it!” you shout and kick, once, twice—
“Oh yeah?” Sukuna finally turns to you, swiftly grabs both your ankles with his lower left hand and pulls on them. The sudden motion makes you choke on your breath, as your butt slides off the cushion. He grabs your throat with his upper right hand and pushes your body flat onto the seat — bam!
With your sore ankles firm in his lower hand, he forcefully grabs the headrest of the driver's seat with his upper left one, now hovering over you and caging you below him.
“Keh.” Sukuna snickers arrogantly with a heavy breath, before he loses his grin, “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
He pulls your ankles flush against his side, making your knees bend. You can’t move, now being locked even firmer into position. His leg pushes against the side of your hips — letting something in your stomach grow hot and extend into your whole body. His lip twitches deviously.
Nervously you swallow and squirm in his hold, grab his wrist with both your hands and try to catch your breath to ease the flush that you can feel spreading on your face. His bottom eyes twitch to your throat as your larynx bobs — before he squeezes a bit harder. And you gasp at the pressure against your scar, feeling your cheeks grow even hotter at the way his eyes are pinning you down just like his hand. Fuck!
Biting your teeth, you curse yourself as he slowly begins to stroke his thumb over your scar. You have to force your mind to ignore the pleasant tingle in your groin.
“Presumptuous?” you hiss and dig your nails deeper into his skin, “Just go slower…”
“Slower?” he breathes and cocks his eyebrow, slowly increasing the pressure on your neck. “Just how slow do you want me to go, brat?”
The pressure is so slow, so tight. With every second he gradually squeezes tighter, and tighter, until your mind closes in. The scar on his hand now fully touches yours on your neck. Connected.
And your lips fall open, begin to tingle. His eyes grow dark, pupils wide — like a maw. Deep enough devour you. Your heart keeps hammering against his hand. So hard, he must feel it throbbing beneath his fingertips.
As an act of resistance, you adjust your grip around his wrist and dig your fingers into his skin and artery just below his palm — as hard as you can, until you feel his pulse.
Badum.Badum.Badum.Badum.
Agitated.
Just like yours.
“Hah!” you gasp involuntarily feeling him like this. The wave of heat that adds to the intensifying sensation in your abdomen becomes undeniable. Sukuna adjusts his stance and shifts his weight, increasing the pressure of his leg against your figure. His body is taking up so much space in this tiny doorframe. So large, looming over you like a giant. And you swallow. Again.
“Mh?” he hums arrogantly, finally easing a bit of the pressure to let you speak. Your mind lightens and it takes you a second, until you’re finally able to push back. Focus!
“Slow. enough.” you glare at him between laboured breaths. “Can you even do that, Sukuna-sama? Or are you too proud to even know how to be gentle?”
The poison spurts over your lips, until you grow aware of what you just said. So bold, making you hold your breath at your own actions.
His lip twitches, “Can’t you tell?”
And your heart slips, yet the blood keeps pumping. Sukuna grinds his teeth, letting his darkened eyes travel over your flushing face, to your hands around his wrist and back to your face, watching the sight below him. Heavy and consuming, with his harsh pulse hammering against your fingertips.
Badum.Badum.Badum.Badum.
Just like yours.
“How foolish.” he coos, almost pondering. It makes your heart flinch. And you don’t know how to react.
Instead, you press even harder into his wrist, “Now get off and let me steer!”
His features twitch at your bold tongue, before he finally loosens his grip.
“Tch. I’m too nice to you.” he sneers, almost self-critical, and leans back. And you blink, almost surprised, while Sukuna softens his hold of your ankles and lets you wiggle them out of his lingering hands. “Careful with those feet...” he muses, before he turns and walks to the back of the car, clenching his fists.
With a sullen frown on your face and a tingle between your legs, you slide back on your precious feet and get in position. And after a quiet second, Sukuna begins to push again — this time slowly.
Once again you listen to the breaking grass and twigs and gravel beneath the moving wheels, as the vehicle finally rolls in an adequate pace. Very carefully, you steer the car out of the ditch. It rolls onto the street and without much effort, you both push it straight ahead and back to the house of Hikawa-san. There we go!
It should feel like success, but none of you says a word — too stubborn and sulky to appreciate the result. It could’ve been so easy.
The mechanic is already waiting, holding his toolbox in his right hand.
“Well that took a while.” he nags as soon as the car comes to a halt. And Sukuna clicks his tongue.
“Tch. I wonder why.” he remarks as he walks up to the old man, glaring at you with his bottom left eye, making you glare back at him, pissed. The mechanic notices.
“Ohhh! Heheh.” Hikawa-san chuckles, steps forward and taps Sukuna proudly on his shoulder, whose eyes sharply dart over to him in the split of a second. “Don’t worry my guy. Women always wanna be right. You’ll get used to it.”
“Excuse me?” you spit back.
“See? Heh.” he chuckles and points at you as if you just fell for a harmless joke.
Sukuna raises his eyebrow, his lips twitch into a pout and you don’t know if he’s annoyed, lowkey amused by this or even worse — quietly agreeing. Whatever it is, his increasing passiveness pisses you off.
“Anyway, we don’t have all day, do we? My back’s a pain—” Hikawa-san announces, lowers the toolbox and snips towards the car as if he’s talking to a servant, “Open up the hood.”
And you look to Sukuna and back to the mechanic — only to feel the pressure of them both waiting and looking at you in expectation. Of course Sukuna won’t know how to open it, so he’s just quietly siding with that prick to watch the situation. Maybe it even amuses him. Motherfucker.
A contempt twitch hushes over your face, before you wordlessly turn and lean into the car to search for the release lever.
“Do you even have a license?” Hikawa-san scoffs impatiently, “Lower! Under the steering wheel!”
You roll your eyes, cursing under your breath. It takes you a moment to find it, but during that moment, the eyes on your back feel heavy and quiet. You try to swallow the uneasiness and finally spot the lever— clp. The hood claps open.
“At last.” Hikawa-san comments thick with sarcasm and approaches the hood.
He slips the gnarly fingers of his right hand into the gap, reaching for the secondary latch to open it up completely — except he doesn’t. Hikawa-san’s face tenses and twitches, almost as if he physically wasn’t able to open it. His eyes dart to you and back down to his fingers — and over to Sukuna, who just stands there like a statue, quietly observing, doing nothing and nothing at all. Your lips press into a thin line.
“Do you need help?” you nag at the mechanic, who sighs sharply in response.
“Teheh.” he chuckles helplessly towards Sukuna as if he was the one who offered support. “This doesn’t get easier with age.”
You exhale and stride over to him, sick of being treated like incompetence itself.
“What is it?” you snap at him and his eyes dart back to you, almost disappointed it’s you.
“Right here…“ he drawls reluctantly and taps against the metal with his nail, tip, tip, “The latch is stuck a bit.”
You carefully reach into the gap, but Hikawa-san doesn’t make way. He keeps his position with his finger on the latch, probably to guide you. His annoying presence is thick and now he’s even standing a bit too close for your liking. You can even smell him. He reeks, old and bitter. And you clench your jaw and try to ignore it, try to focus and feel for the metal, tap, tap.
“Who would’ve thought?” he murmurs arrogantly as your fingers suddenly brush against his old and calloused ones. Finally you’re getting a hold of the latch. “Those slim fingers seem unexpectedly handy. Now pull it.”
But the tone of his voice and the feeling against your skin lets an appalling, nauseating feeling wash over you. Like a sudden and unwanted invasion of personal space. He retrieves his fingers clumsily, causing even more unwanted touches against your hand. Tension gets a hold of your stomach and you blink up to Sukuna, who’s watching with intense focus. It makes it even worse—
“For fucks sake! I said, pull it!” Hikawa-san orders and suddenly grabs your arm with his left hand. You flinch. The colour in your face fades at this sudden contact, as the grip in his fingers feels too firm to have not been able to pull that latch by himself — and with a sharp exhale, you pull it — clp.
The hood jumps up and you’re quick to step away, yanking your arm out of his hold—
“Piss off!” you snap, leaving him as shocked as you are. It all happened so fast. It all was too much.
Silence.
“S-Sorry. I-I’m gonna go and help—” you mumble after a second, suddenly not sure if you overreacted, and step away. Blinking to Sukuna, his already cold expression turned rigid. But you can’t care about that now. Instead, you lower your eyes and walk past him.
“Tsk. Whatever.” the wind carries Hikawa-san’s fading voice to your ear as you stride off with quick steps and your heart hammering inside your chest. Prick.
“Anyway, the bodywork looks dented, but shouldn’t be too much of a problem. The light doesn’t look damaged too. I will check on some things, but in the best case you just need a new battery.”
You bite your teeth. Your mind is racing. Instinctively, you feel your pockets for your phone. Mio would understand. Mio would listen and calm you down. She surely got back to you by now, right?
Maybe the old lady has a charging cable.
But — your pockets are empty. Cursing under your breath, you hurry back to the hut. The phone must still be inside.
Wreee
You enter the hut, spotting the tray on the floor where you last remember it. Sukuna ate everything, down to the last crumb. But your phone is nowhere to be seen, not on the floor, not near the tray or the oven, not on the working bench. Sukuna tossed you the key — did he also take my phone?
“Really?” you clutch your exasperated face into your hands. There’s no way you’re going back there right now.
Why did he take the phone??
As if that fossil could do anything with it in the first place…
You press your eyes shut, forcing you to take deep breaths to not snap right here and now. A moment passes, in which you’re forcing yourself to cool down a bit.
“Fine...” you finally exhale and accept the situation. Hoping it will distract you, you decide to bring the tray to the lady instead. It’s the least you can do anyway.
You lean down and grab the tray. The dishes clatter as you carry it to the door, the chopsticks roll around from under the plates. One, then the second — then a third and a fourth one. And you halt, digging your fingertips tighter into the wooden handles, feeling your stomach take a tumble.
Two pairs of chopsticks.
It has been two pairs of chopsticks the whole time.
“Motherfucker!” you spit through your teeth and kick the door open — bam!
“My goodness!“ the old lady promptly opens her front door. “Is everything okay?”
And you flinch, feeling caught. You quickly swallow your mood, seeing her alerted face like that.
“Yes, I’m sorry. The door was stubborn.” you apologise and force a light chuckle. “I just wanted to return these dishes.”
“Oh! That’s very nice of you!” she smiles relieved, steps aside and motions for you to come in. “Where is your boyfriend?”
“Oh, he’s with Hikawa-san.”
“Boy-stuff, eh?” she smiles. “How is the car? Will Hikawa-san be able to fix it?”
“I think so, yes. Luckily.” you try to sound cheerful and take a bow, forgetting you’re still holding the tray. “Thank you for helping us out!”
The dishes clatter—
“O- Of course.” she chuckles and motions you to the kitchen right next to her.
And step in, carefully lowering the tray onto the counter, right below a large window that’s facing the street. Right next to where you put the tray, a knife is resting close to a large radish on a cutting board next to the sink, about to be cut up and pickled. Whisked eggs are waiting in a bowl right next to a Tamagoyaki pan on the stove, while a nicely smelling stew is peacefully simmering in a pot right next to it. Fresh rice and a chopped up tonkatsu are placed next to a bento box that is waiting to be assembled. Must be his lunch.
“It smells delicious!” you smile and nod towards the stew.
“Heheh! You know, I’ve known Hikawa-san my whole life...” the old lady explains and begins to cut the radish, frp, frp. “I make him lunch every day.”
And you hum and nod, quietly thinking that he doesn’t deserve her care.
“I fancied him too, actually.” she suddenly adds. “After his wife left, we got close once or twice.”
“Oh.” it clicks, though a bit baffled about how open she is with you. “I see.”
Frp, frp.
“You know… your boyfriend reminds me of his son.” she quietly sighs, making your ears twitch, “I bet Hikawa-san feels the same.”
“His son?”
Slice after slice, frp, frp.
“He was also tall and grim looking, withdrawn demeanour, just like your man. Minus the uh, the…” she waves her hand in circular motions around her right side of her face, “the deformity, y’know?!”
You nod quietly.
“But then he fell off the right path, isolated himself and left the village to live in the city. He cut off all contact.” she pauses, slowing down with the knife. “That was thirty years ago. And his wife blamed him for everything, for not being there for their son when he needed him, for teaching him the right ways, you know? Eventually she left and he stayed here, wants to be all alone in that house and be the nasty grump that he is today.”
She begins to cut again, frp, frp.
“And I can’t stop myself from trying again and again and be there for him if he needs something, can’t help to make him his lunch. He wouldn’t eat properly if I didn’t and his mood is even worse when he’s hungry, so I do this for my own sake as well!” she explains, with her tone growing harsher with each word, before she motions with her knife out of the window, “Possibly for the sake of everyone here!”
A quiet moment passes, frp, frp. The blade cuts through, slice after slice. And you can’t help to feel a familiar ache in your chest, hearing her being so emotional about someone that is so difficult.
“I know he’s a pain, but he always lends a hand to others and doesn’t ask for anything in return. I think he blames himself just as much…”
And you listen quietly, thinking about him and the situation earlier.
“This doesn’t excuse his behaviour of course. I hope he wasn’t too harsh with you?”
“Well.” you exhale and make a face. And she nods, as if she expected it. “However, I think he likes Su— I mean my boyfriend.”
“See?” she chimes and arches her eyebrow at you. ”I bet he wanted to show off. You know, like a father would.”
Maybe he did…
“Insecure creatures.” she chuckles and shakes her head, making you chuckle. Her cheeky demeanour somehow helps to soften your anger about him a bit. “Anyway, tell me: how did you and your boyfriend meet?”
“Oh,” you didn’t expect this question, “it was like… just like that. Not a long time ago, actually.”
“I see. I see.” she nods, putting the cut radish into a bowl. “And?”
So curious.
“…To be honest,” you drawl and lower your gaze, fiddling with your hands. “He confuses me sometimes. He can be very mean… I’m not sure if he even likes me.“
“Ehhh?” her eyes shoot from the bowl back to you, irritated by what you said.
And you huff, slightly embarrassed, “I uh…” you start, thinking of the right words. “I made some mistakes that made him very angry with me... In fact, I expect him to dump me at the first moment that seems convenient for him.” you explain, watching the skin on your fingers turns red from the picking. “Maybe I should preempt him.”
“Hm.” she nods thoughtfully. “I know this behaviour.”
And you pick and pick, feeling your eyes tingle at the thought, until her hand slides into your vision, holding yours. Warm.
“Let me tell you something.” she hums and you look up. “I can see the hut very well from here. I saw how you left and assumed you were just going for a walk. I didn’t think much of it and began to crack the eggs. Then a few minutes later, I saw your boyfriend storming out of the hut all of a sudden.” she acts startled, as if she‘s telling a long lost tale. “I paused, wondering what’s up with him. He seemed so tense, his eyes went everywhere—” her eyes grow wide and she gestures all around her, until she pokes her finger at your nose, “until he finally saw you.”
You stir, feeling your heart flinch. Nervously, you open your mouth, but you can’t speak.
The lady smiles understandingly and nods, “To me, it seemed that he’s deeply troubled with something, but that wasn’t you. How could someone be troubled with a soul like yours?” she tilts her head, warm eyes embrace your soul.
And your chest grows heavy, recalling the look on his face, his eyes — but it can’t be. You know it. He’s too rude, too rough. Her eyes are dull, her heart too gracious. You would love to believe her, but you can’t. Instead you just force a hint of a smile. Insecure.
“Yes, yes I know what you’re thinking. This old hag’s eyes are old and dry. Why should I believe her?” she claims loudly and raises her eyebrows. And you’re caught. Right on the spot. It makes you huff to yourself.
“You know some people are quick with their brain, but slow with their heart. They reject and push away and seem unreachable — not because they don’t like you — but because they’ve locked their heart into the deepest corner of their soul. Maybe they were left alone or hurt or betrayed or all at once and were forced to bury their pain right along with it in order to survive. They know it’s there, but they rather don’t face it, much less show it — just like Hikawa-san.” she explains in a thoughtful voice. “It took me a while to understand this, but more often than not, it’s those people who carry wounds as deep as pockets. More often than not, it’s those people who need love and connection the most, even if they make it hard for the people who try.“
Her words sound so sincere and personal, as if she spoke of lifelong wisdom. And yet, you find it hard to believe. Sukuna seems so careless and indifferent, sometimes even silly in his own psychotic way. There’s no way he—
“I know what I saw when he turned and his eyes fell upon yours.” she continues. “For a second, not only his chest, but his heart seemed to breathe, too.”
Quiet.
You swallow.
“Well, if you ask me,” she raises her voice, “men like those are trouble and should seek therapy! No one should be forced to put up with this!”
And you snort, feeling your chest lighten up again. A bit, at least.
“But sometimes, you just can’t help to like them, no matter what.” she continues softer now, with her eyes turning glassy, “It’s hell with them and it’s hell without. So it’s up to you to take everything that comes with them — every adventure, every laughter, every argument and every heartbreak — or nothing at all.” she warmly smiles, but your stomach drops. “Choose your curse wisely. And live with it.” she adds, raising her eyebrows and quietly turns to the stove, leaving you with your thoughts for a second.
A curse…
Quietly, you watch her back, watch her stir the pot. You step forward and stand right next to her, focused on the stew, with your thoughts circling in your mind like the meat and vegetables.
“Heh. Like father, like son, eh? Even if they aren’t.” she chuckles and sniffs and taps the wooden spoon against the pot, pap, pap. “I wonder how those two are getting along...”
Clack, clack.
The metallic wrench echoes against the toolbox, making Sukuna blink from the street back to the old mechanic who is hovering over it. The noise was loud, sharp, making him grit his teeth.
“The girl,” Hikawa-san repeats himself a bit louder now and nods towards the direction Sukuna was looking at. “Do you like her?”
The question lets an irritated frown grow on Sukuna’s face, almost as if a chatty bird suddenly started talking to him. He crosses his arms, clicking his tongue. And Hikawa-san chuckles.
“Heh. I know this behaviour.“ he shakes his head and motions his finger towards Sukuna, before he picks up a screwdriver and turns back to the car. Sukuna frown deepens. “She surely has some temperament. Gotta be careful with that… Well,” the old man continues, cocks his eyebrow at Sukuna, “unless you’re into it.”
“Tch. Having your mouth running like a waterfall would make one believe you have finished your work.“ Sukuna hisses and taps his fingers against his biceps, “Well, have you finished your work, old man?”
“Old man.” the mechanic huffs, almost melancholic, and resumes to his work. “You said that before. And yet, I haven’t heard that in years.”
Sukuna lets out an annoyed sigh and begins stretching his neck from side to side, with his focus kept on the old man’s back and the stained towel that’s thrown over his left shoulder. After listening to the clicking and clanking for a bit, Sukuna steps closer, curious at what those old hands are doing. Impatient, too.
“This is the new battery.” Hikawa-san explains as if Sukuna asked, “It’s an old habit, but I always have one or two laying around in my garage. You never know…eh, grab me the 7mm wrench, will ya?” he blindly points with his hand towards the toolbox on the ground while keeping his focus on the screw he’s working on. Sukuna’s eyes dart down to the toolbox and its countless contents. A thoughtful pout grows on his lips, before he hesitantly crouches down and skims with his fingers over the metallic tools. Cold. Small and large, pointy and dull ones. Light and heavy.
“You two sure seem to be fond of each other.” Hikawa-san continues to tighten the screw, as if not in need of said wrench anymore. “Those hateful glances between you aren’t born from indifference. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience.”
“Spare me your tales, old man. I’ll be gone soon.” Sukuna mutters and spots a little faded number on one of the wrench’s handle. 7 mm.
“Tales.” he chuckles, while Sukuna lets his fingers skim over the 27mm one instead, “I was joking before, y’know. Believe me, when I tell you that you’re lucky. This is the kind of girl who will stay during your darkest days. It’s rare.”
“Tsk.” Sukuna stands back up, towering over the old man. “Are you done?”
“Nah, boy.” he turns to the giant, suddenly serious. “You’re a tough one, eh? Hard to get. But I already know from the way she looks at you, that she’s someone who is willing to look behind this grim armour and stiff chest of yours,” he pokes into Sukuna’s chest, which hardens even more now. “Who will take you into her arms despite your appalling words and behaviour. The only girl who will ever be willing to put up with your fucking nonsense, boy, because she has hope! More than you do!” his desperate words make Sukuna’s lips twitch. “Mark my words, boy! Don’t be a fool like me. Let her in and live a little, for your own sake.” the old man’s words fall heavy, with his old eyes ripped wide open, as if he was speaking from the depth of his heart, “You might regret it if you don’t… and regret hurts almost as much as loneliness. Maybe even more.”
A second passes. Sukuna’s eyes pierce into the old man’s laboured face. Clenching his teeth, he presses his fingers into the metal of the wrench. And then he giggles, laughs sharply.
“Pahah!” — loud and taunting, letting the colour in Hikawa-san‘s face fade away as if his soul has been twisted by a mere flick of Sukuna’s finger. “What a fucking lunatic you are! A dramatic one at that, too.“ Sukuna mocks with a sharp grin on his face. He leans down to him, flaring his eyes like the devil would. “Now, I’ve been waiting ever since you opened that lowbred mouth of yours and put those filthy fingers to use. I will ask you one last time, old man. Are. you. done?”
“Fine.” the mechanic swallows with jittering lips and nods. Not as a reply, but because he understands. Hikawa-san adjusts his stance and regains his composure, blinking his old, rude self back into his mind. Ready.
“That’s not the 7mm wrench, boy.” he chides grimly, pointing at the tool in Sukuna’s right hand and turns back to the car, “Try again,” he points to a bolt on the battery, “and screw that tight for me, will ya?” Hikawa-san grabs the towel to wipe his hands, before he shuffles to the driver’s door. “Then, we will be done.”
“At last.” Sukuna coos and promptly picks up the 7mm wrench with his left hand. He positions himself in front of the car and leans his upper hands against the bodywork, letting the 27mm wrench clank against it, clack. The sound makes Hikawa-san flinch, but he continues his way to the driver’s seat, while Sukuna keeps his bottom eyes focused on the old man. The mechanic glances over, just as Sukuna reveals his lower arms from beneath his Haori. And with a deep, anxious breath and shaky hands, he slides onto the seat, vanishing from Sukuna’s sight behind the opened hood. A hostile sneer is plastered on his face as he begins to screw the last bolt tight, wrp, wrp, wrp, just like the old man said.
Hikawa-san grabs the key and—
Wrmmmmm.
Your ears twitch. The motor faintly echoes through the street, just as you opened the kitchen window for the old lady. It hums smoothly, as if nothing ever happened.
“I think they are finished.” you mutter with a rising pulse. It’s time.
“Well, well.” she chimes as if you’re about to head into your next challenge. “Before you go, cheer up!” she smiles and hands you a little bowl containing a scoop of the fresh beef stew. Unable to deny this gesture, you take it with both hands and carefully eat it, spoon by spoon. It’s hot and in every sense perfect, really.
And you hum, happily smiling at the taste and finish the last bite. Satisfied with your reaction, she takes the bowl and leads you to the front door.
“Thank you. For everything!” you bow to her once again. This time, a bit deeper.
“Take care, little one.” she waves you goodbye. You smile at her and get going, before you listen to the closing door behind you.
Tschk.
The sound lets your heart sink, like a final goodbye. She grew on you and frankly, her words still occupy your mind and ache inside your chest. A buried heart, buried pain. In wounds as deep as pockets.
Can it really be? Does Sukuna need love?
Despite it all?
The birds sing, the insects whirr. The wind nestles against your face as you quietly walk down the street, with your figure swaying with every step, tap, tap — until a bone chilling blow scatters through the air. Metallic. Dull. A crack on impact. A choked up rasp.
Despite it all?
“Hikawa-san!” you breathe stricken with horror, and sprint down the road.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The back of the car comes into view.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Quick!
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The motor is humming quietly. The driver’s seat is empty, with the door opened — and Hikawa-san is nowhere to be seen.
Your mouth dries up and you come to a halt, tap, tap, just as Sukuna shuts the hood — tschk.
His head is towering above the body work, letting you spot the black smudges of oil mixing with traces of blood on his face. And you’re unable to tell if those are from his wound or —
Sukuna clenches his jaw, focused on his hands, before he lets his eyes dart over to you, almost as if caught. You meet his gaze and he swallows thickly, before he shifts his focus back down. With a frown you look down, but can’t really see what he’s doing. Nervously, you part your lips to breathe and begin to approach him. Focused on his moving arms, your eyes travel down his figure. Fine traces and spots of blood are scattered on his muscles. His biceps tenses and relaxes from his movements, as well as his pecks. And Sukuna sucks his teeth.
Closer.
You pass the passenger’s door, only to see him drying his blood drenched hands on a stained towel. The oil stained fabric soaks up the blood, turning the towel into a mere rag. Dark and depleted.
The air gets stuck in your throat, and yet you swallow the shock. You knew.
“What?” he asks dangerously, as if your reply was dependent on whatever comes next. And you look at him, until he slows down and shifts his gaze expectantly from his hands back to you.
Silence.
Again. This smothering feeling of — silence. It clutches at your collar like an unspoken whisper, almost begging you to stay. And you can’t bring yourself to walk away.
“… Nothing.” you whisper and Sukuna hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and flitches the towel into the toolbox. He harshly kicks it out of the way and walks past you. Your eyes dart over and notice a wrench inside the box. Huge, metallic — and shimmering with blood.
But there’s something else, letting your focus shift from the box to the field behind it. And your chest sinks as you notice the silhouette of Hikawa-san’s lifeless body. With his face smashed into the grass and bleeding from the broken back of his head. With his left arm twisted around its back and its fingers broken and cracked. And yet, a yellow butterfly dances in the light above his grotesque and inhuman figure. It’s done.
And you stay quiet.
Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets into the car and shuts the door loudly - clp. And yet, his eyes sear into the back of your head, while you watch the butterfly for just another second. The way it flies and flatters — weightless. Peaceful somehow, despite the cruel scene beneath its wings.
Odd, isn’t it?
All you can do is to wish him well, his soul, and for his wounds to close and his heart to be free. And you press your eyes shut and turn your back. Quietly, you swallow the bile in your throat as you get into the car, disgusted at yourself.
And yet, you can’t help it.
You shut the door and fasten your seatbelt — and so does he. Sukuna stirs inside his seat, almost uncomfortable, while you activate the navigation system. An annoyed click escapes his tongue and he stretches his torso to cram his hand deep into his pocket. And you watch in the corner of your eyes, until he takes out your phone. Wrapped between those murderous fingers, he wordlessly holds it under your nose. The blood only darkened the black oil on his hands. You swallow and take it, letting your fingers brush against his deadly ones — even though they could stain yours, too.
“Don’t take it again.” you chide softly, now fiddling with the phone. “You’re not my fucking boyfriend.”
“Tch.” he huffs at your remark. And you don’t believe it either.
You slide the phone into your own pocket, continue to adjust the rearview mirror and pause. With your tarnished fingers lingering on the mirror and a sharp tingle inside your eyelids, you look back along the road you came from.
And you wish her well too, praying she’s gonna be alright — somehow, someday — with a melancholic weight hanging inside your throat. It is heavy, just like your heart. And yet, there’s this feeling spreading in your chest. The pressure to look forward. The pressure to ignore. The pressure to accept — if you want to keep going, if you want to stay sane.
If you want to choose your curse. And maybe, you already did.
Slowly, you begin to drive. Past the garage, past the houses, past the free chicken on the field. Maybe the orange kitten is watching on its way, too. And you drive through the green fields along the electric poles that guide your way. The warm sun flickers into your windshield through the moving hills. It is quiet between you two.
Neither of you says a word, neither of you brings it up to speak about what happened or what follows.
And yet, you let your eyes flick over to him, seeing him looking out the window to his left. Distant, almost as if he was in deep thought. His upper hands are crossed over his chest, while his lower hands rest upon his lap, the right one over the pocket of his Hakama, fiddling through the fabric with whatever he has stored in there. Looking back on the road, you wonder if it's the pouch or maybe something else you don’t know about. Wonder how deep those pockets of his really are…
It doesn’t take long, until the expressway is labeled on the signposts — as well as the toll systems. ETC or Cash.
And you blink yourself back to reality.
“Shit!” you curse and keep driving without taking the ramp. Sukuna’s lower eyes blink at you as the navigation system shouts at you to turn around, again and again — but you ignore, don’t explain.
“Oy!” Sukuna grits his teeth. “Again?”
You click your tongue and keep driving along the road and past more villages, until you spot a Konbini with a parking lot. Small.
Promptly you take a turn and drive onto the lot. You halt and begin to tap into the settings of the navigation system. No toll roads — and the route adjusts to 10 hours. Double the time. Great.
Sukuna’s stare at you is turning hostile, making it seem like he’s collecting every possible threat in his head to spit them out at you, for having the audacity to delay this journey even further. You unclick your seatbelt and lean over his lap to open the glove compartment.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he grunts grimly, making you feel his thigh twitch beneath your figure.
And yet, you don’t give him a reply. Instead you tap past the first aid kit, wondering if Kenjaku was kind enough to have an ETC card installed. And as if you expected it, there’s none. No card. No cash. No nothing.
“Brat…” he growls more threatening this time, just as you slam the compartment shut, clp.
Everything that comes with it or nothing at all…
You exhale sharply and blink at the Konbini, pushing down every thought of what was before, trying to focus on what’s now in front of you.
Now, with your purse gone and your phone dead, you can’t even withdraw cash. It could be so easy… all you need is just a —
“Sukuna-sama…” you finally break the silence with a pounding heart. “…did you ever go shoplifting?”
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The way Sukuna’s eyes fall upon yours consumes you like a force of nature. And for the split of a second, something gentle flickers in those eyes, those deep red, murderous eyes — something you never thought you’d see in a gaze that’s meant for you. Still, your mind tells you it’s impossible. Maybe it’s just the distance, maybe you didn’t see right. Maybe it wasn’t there at all.
Or was it?
The street seems to go on forever. With this nasty sting in your ankle that burdens every step, it feels like you’re walking on the spot, feels like you’re not approaching him significantly — not enough to ever reach him. Another breeze dances between you, engulfs you and hushes against your back. It guides you closer. Cold, but gentle.
The birds whistle calmly through the air, cicadas chirp inside the grass. Strands of your hair tumble into your vision and you tug them behind your ear, before you bury your hands inside your sleeves and cross your arms in front of you. Sukuna stirs, crosses his arms as well and raises his chin, now looking down at you with pensive eyes — and you lower your gaze again, suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over your body.
The wind stops and the nature grows quiet as you finally arrive and stop in front of him. You look up.
Silence.
The wound on his face looks even more poignant in broad daylight. It has dried up. Traces of dark red scabs now decorate his forehead, two of them carving right into his eyebrow. He hasn’t healed it yet. You wish he did.
Silence.
Sukuna’s eyes muster you. All four of them muster your hair and your eyes, your cheeks and your mouth, your neck and your scar. Up and down, up and down. The weight of his gaze is heavy, consuming — like it always is. It makes you feel so small. He parts his lips to speak, but pauses as if hesitant. Odd.
The air between you feels different. Somehow there’s this smothering feeling. This smothering feeling of — silence. Like a wall between two souls in need.
Your limbs grow heavy, like lead. And yet they tingle as if you want to run away and towards him at the same time. With a dry throat, you part your lips too, not sure if you should say something or wait until he speaks first — all of that, with your heart hammering inside your chest. Hopeful, somehow.
Shouldn’t you be angry with him?
And before you can act, Sukuna curls his lips into a pout, raises his lower right hand and snips his fingers against your forehead — flck.
“Ow!”—
“Shut up.” he chides, now looking down at you with an exhorting look on his face. “And get that carriage running again instead...” he dismissively tosses the car key into your hands, before he turns to sit down on the doorstep of the hut.
And with that, any empathy, any softness, any relief you hoped to see in his demeanour before just proved to be nonexistent. How embarrassing.
Everything’s just the same.
“Ahhh there you are!” one of the front doors next to you opens, letting the voice of the old lady chime brightly through the gap. She peeks over your shoulder to the old grump. “Looking better now, I see! The breakfast was tasty, yes?!”
She warms your heart.
“Yes, it was delicious.” you smile and bow your head. “Thank you so much!”
The old lady nods cheerfully, “Very well. Oh,” she adds, “have you seen the little kitten by chance?”
You tighten your fingers around the key. It hurts.
“He slipped out the door after his breakfast. You see, he can be really stubborn and these fields and forests are vast. I just hope he doesn’t get lost around here all alone.” she continues and the sincere worry in her eyes breaks your heart.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll find his way.” you force a smile at her, before you hear Sukuna impatiently tap his foot behind you, tap, tap. Nervously, you peek over your shoulder, only to see him raise his eyebrow at you and nod towards the key in your hands. You hesitate, but then turn back to the lady.
“Excuse me,” you say and her attention shifts back to you, “we have problems with our car.” you point down the street and her eyes follow, “Is there a mechanic around here?”
“Ohhh! I figured this one was yours! Yes, yes, yes.” she nods and walks out of her door with careful steps, waving at you to come with her. You exhale quietly, leave Sukuna on that doorstep and follow her, feeling sorry that you had to switch the topic like that. How insensitive.
She leads you to a house on the opposite side down the street. An old car is parked right next to it.
“Hikawa-san!” she yells and rings his doorbell, bzzz. You flinch at her tone, but she turns to you and adds, “Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t mind… Hikawa-san!” she yells again, this time more sternly, and rings the doorbell three more times, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.
“Yes, yes I’m coming.” an elderly voice echoes through the insides of the house. Heavy footsteps slump towards the door, before a stooped man with grey hair and thick eyebrows opens it.
“What is it?” he nags at the lady, before he blinks over to you. Grim.
“Her car is broken. Go help her!” she complains with wide gestures —
“I’m retired!” he snaps back as if he was asked to be compliant in a crime. And you blink, being caught off guard by the whole situation.
“Hikawa-san!” the lady scoffs and slaps his arm, making the old man grunt.
It must’ve worked, because he then blinks to you. His lip jitters discerningly as he musters you up and down, sucks his teeth and squints his eyes. That his gaze makes you feel uncomfortable would be an understatement. And yet, you force a smile and bow your head.
“Fine.“ he nags, completely and utterly bothered. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“W-We lost control over the car and we—“
“Who’s we?” he interrupts you, making you clench your jaw.
“Me and my boyfriend.”
He cocks his hairy eyebrow, staring at you with sharp eyes, “Uhuh.”
It throws you off.
“We uh, we lost track and drove into the ditch next to the road.” you continue, trying to focus. “Then the battery died.”
Hikawa-san nods a few times. And with that, he waves at you to make way — but before you can move, he already shoved you to the side and walks up the street.
“Don’t worry, he’s always like that.” the old lady smiles at you and urges you to follow him. And hesitantly, you do.
The hut comes back into view and you spot Sukuna still sitting in the doorway, with his lower pair of arms hidden inside his Haori. Waiting.
Hikawa-san immediately approaches him — and stops as soon as he sees his face, almost frozen. He stares at him in his grim demeanour, but there’s something else twitching into the wrinkles of his worn out face. Deeply disturbed.
It doesn’t sit right with you. Not at all. In fact, anger begins to sizzle in your stomach. This man already pisses you off, the way he talks and stares at you — and now the way he stares at him. Mustering him, as if Sukuna and his appearance was something that isn’t supposed to be here. As if he was a sinister quirk of nature.
“What’re you looking at?” Sukuna mutters with a voice that sounds more like a warning than a question — but Hikawa-san just huffs. And your stomach coils, seeing Sukuna so focused on the old man like a predator, ready to snap. The air begins to shift.
Hikawa-san sneers at you, pointing with his finger to Sukuna, “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Is that the mechanic?” Sukuna hisses back, not even looking at you. But your jaw doesn’t move, your vocal cords stay mute. Torn between supporting an act of violence and the urgent need to get the fuck out of here, you can’t speak, can’t even breathe or move at all, too overwhelmed and—
“Yes!” the old lady chimes proudly in between, followed by an amused chuckle.
“…Fine.” Sukuna and the old man grunt in unison, before the latter huffs, almost impressed. You wish you could laugh, too.
“Strong fella, eh? He must help.” Hikawa-san grins all of a sudden and nods at Sukuna to come with him — as if he changed his mind about him entirely. Did you misread him?
“Thank you, Hikawa-san!” the old lady chimes and steps back into the doorway of her house. “I’ll bring you lunch later.”
“Yea, yea.” he waves her off and proceeds to walk down the street towards the car.
You blink over to the lady and she nods at you with a smile, before vanishing behind her front door, tschk.
Somewhat relieved, for now at least, you turn to Sukuna whose stabbing eyes dart over to you as well. He clicks his tongue and gets up. Annoyed. It lets a familiar dryness wash over your mouth, as he wordlessly walks past you to follow the old man. And you hurry after him, want to speak, but your tongue feels heavy. Actually, you don’t really want to say it, because he doesn’t deserve your empathy… but—
“Sorry about that.” you mumble quietly, walking next to him. Small.
It takes a few steps, until he grants you an answer, “About what?”
“About him and how rude he was.” you admit in a quiet voice, trying to make sure that the wind won’t carry your words over to the mechanic. “I felt so angry at the way he looked at you. So stupid!” you utter, but then soften your voice, “…You must get that alot, huh?”
Sukuna blinks over to you — dangerous, as if you just brought a lurking sickness over him. The air shifts, as if you did something wrong. Almost, as if you poked into a hornets nest — the hornets nest that’s walking right beside you.
“Who are you to pity me like that?” Sukuna mumbles resentfully. And you halt, with your pulse rising. The undertone in his voice alone was terrifying — you never heard him like that. Hesitantly you open your mouth to speak and apologise, but—
“How utterly arrogant.” he flares his sharp eyes right at you and steps closer, looming his monstrous figure over yours and down to your ear, making sure those following words will sear right into your benevolent brain, to make sure you will understand every word as if it was law.
“Know your place, woman.” he whispers and leans even closer, making you flinch and feel his breath hot against your skin. “Looking down on me it is not.”
Your stomach coils, with your mind pounding against your forehead like a wound that inflamed itself. He means it. And you curse this moment, him and yourself. The key pokes sharply into your palm from the pressure you’re holding it with. You might think it could break through your skin, bury into your flesh and draw blood—
“Oi!” Hikawa-san calls from the distance, making you flinch again. “What about the key?”
“Yeah,” Sukuna coos through his teeth, “What about the key, mh?”
And he turns back forward to approach the car, making you exhale as if you’ve been holding your breath. Your jaw hurts from the force you’ve been biting it, while your pulse keeps throbbing in your neck. It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, to swallow his words and focus, before you hurry after them.
“About time.” Hikawa-san nags with a stern look on his face that’s almost as unsettling as Sukuna’s threats. He motions to the car. “Did you drive that thing?”
“Yea...” you drawl and can’t shake the feeling that he’s implying something here.
“Looks like it.” he replies with a smug grin. It’s almost as if he wants to appear manly and cool next to Sukuna now. How ugly.
“At first glance, the damage doesn’t look too bad. Might only need a few fixes. The battery died, you said?”
“Yes, the lights went out.”
“Uhuh.” he ponders. “Did you try another start?”
“No, as I said the—“
“Show me.” he commands as if you’re not a reliable source.
Sukuna quietly crosses his arms in the corner of your eyes. Great.
You focus, trying to stay calm while you have to deal with both of these obnoxious men, hoping this whole thing will be over soon. Reluctantly, you unlock the car, beep, beep, and get in. You insert the key and— mememememe…mememememe…
The engine cranks and fights and rattles but — it doesn’t start. Surprise!
“Yes, yes, sounds like the battery.” Hikawa-san concludes and you close your eyes, forcing yourself not to blare the honk to shut him up. “Release the handbrake, we need to get it out of that ditch first to take a proper look — Oi, big boy!” he snips at Sukuna, making you freeze. The mechanic motions his gnarly finger towards the rear of the vehicle. “You gotta push!”
If he only knew that his snappy behaviour towards Sukuna would be enough to bring harm over the whole village. And yet, part of you wishes you could be amused instead, by how Sukuna is ordered around like that. That prick deserves it, after all. Still, your body tells you to be aware, to listen even closer now. That mechanic’s life is in danger, maybe even over. Even though Hikawa-san pisses you off to no end, you still need him.
How are we supposed to get out of there if he kills him?
Clck — you release the handbrake, listening to the ever growing silence. Nervously, your eyes peek at Sukuna. His jaw tenses and releases, again and again, while his eyes are focused on that old man, before they dart over to you.
And for everyone’s sake, you let your face grow soft, quietly pleading him to get going, “Sukuna-sa—“
“What are you waiting for? Get your ass over there!“ Hikawa-san sharply talks over you as if you aren’t even present. And Sukuna’s eyes dart back to him, with his face losing its tension — as if he’s finally made up his mind.
“Careful, old man.” he mutters and moves towards the back of the vehicle. You nervously pick on your sweater as you watch the old mechanic suck his teeth.
“Heh. C’mon!” Hikawa-san motions to come after him and points into the village. “You gotta move it down the street, over to my house.”
And with that, the mechanic shuffles down the road in his elderly pace, leaving the task of moving the car out of the ditch to you and Sukuna. Alone.
Amazing.
You exhale sharply and step out of the car with your left hand lingering on the steering wheel and your right one on the opened door in front of you.
“Okay, I’ll steer us out.” you announce, before glancing over to Sukuna who doesn’t even seem to listen. With a pissed look on his face, he places all of his four hands against the back of the car, preparing to push.
What an odd sight. He must hate this so much.
And for the split of a second, you even allow yourself to be amused by it and bite your lips to suppress a cheeky grin. You wouldn’t even care if he kills that old rude man for his dictating orders, if it just meant for you to witness how this arrogant piece of royalty, the King of Curses himself, pushes a car out of some dirt like an ordinary peasant.
And with that, the car starts moving — and you weren’t ready. At all.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” you shout, losing hold of the wheel and even bump your shoulder against the door frame, as the force resembles more an ambush than a careful manoeuvre. The plants and twigs and dirt beneath the wheels crack and bend loudly under its weight as Sukuna abruptly pushes the vehicle even deeper into the foliage, as if it was nothing more than a shopping cart. And it stops, still off the road.
“Great!” you scoff, rubbing soothingly over your left shoulder. It hurts.
“Oi!” Sukuna shouts and steps out from behind the car to approach you. “Are you stupid?”
“Me?!” you shout back, as if he personally squished one of your already strained neurones between his fingers. “I’m sorry you didn’t bother to count down!”
“Oh yeah?” he taunts and steps even closer, “You said you’ll steer. So steer.”
“Fine!” you hiss and turn back to the wheel. “Should I count then?”
“Shut up.” he growls and stomps back to his position behind the car, cursing under his breath. “Brat.”
“Brat.” you quietly parrot him and rotate the wheel to manoeuvre the axle into position. “Just go slower!”
A pause.
“…Three!” Sukuna ‘counts’ and pushes again. Slower? Yes — but still too hard.
The car hops forward, shoves itself past the foliage and, unfortunately, against you at the same time, thanks to your meticulous preparation on the wheel.
“Agh!” you shout as it jabs against your legs and almost sweeps you off your feet, almost has you dangling off the steering wheel for dear life. For fucks sake!
And the car comes to a halt. Again.
“Stop this fucking nonsense.” Sukuna growls and approaches you with heavy steps, just as you regain your position on the wheel with aching shins and throbbing feet. “Piss off!” he spits and promptly grabs the neck of your sweater.
“No!” you shout and claw your fingers tightly around the wheel, but he easily yanks you away as if you were nothing but a doll. The grass scrunches under your feet as you stumble backwards — but this overwhelming urge to prove yourself is fuming up inside your chest.
And without any other thought you dash forward. Just as he gets a hold of the wheel, you slip under his arm and shove yourself between him and the car.
“That’s mine!“ you grind your teeth and use your butt to push against his groin, trying to take up space and push him away from your spot behind the wheel.
“You little—” he growls and easily pulls you away another time, making you scoff and immediately go at him again.
Driven by everything but survival instinct — probably most by pent up anger — you grab and pull on his shoulder and Haori, slap and punch him, too. Inaudible curses and grunts utter through Sukuna’s breaths as he resists your attacks, adjusts his stance to block you and yanks himself out of your grip whenever you have him, while he simultaneously keeps shoving himself further between you and the wheel to keep you from reaching it at all. Even the car begins to dance under the motions, while the birds and bees listen to your miserable slaps and punches, hisses and curses.
Ridiculous.
“Let me do it!” you seethe and despite his large figure, you manage to squeeze behind his back and climb onto the driver's seat, with your left leg kneeling on the cushion and your right foot steady on the doorframe, almost tangled into his Haori.
“You’re such a huge fucking annoyance...” Sukuna growls and extends his lower arm to push you back and flush against the driver’s seat — bam! — “…for someone so small.”
You gasp and your heart slips, can’t help to swallow a smirk about his comment. Asshole.
Movement seems impossible. He truly has you locked into this position.
Sukuna grabs the wheel and leans forward. Slowly the car begins to move. With your leg squeezed beneath your weight, feeling it prickling hot with the steps of a thousand ants, you push your upper body further against him and manage to slip your left arm through his upper and lower one.
“Get. A-way!” you hiss through your teeth, reaching towards the wheel — desperately trying to close the last inch between your fingertips and the wheel itself. And for the split of a second, a diabolic smirk twitches onto his disdain filled face — and you don’t know if he’s mad or amused by this. Just like you.
“Such a pesky little bitch.” he snarls back and slaps your hand away, before he pushes you even harder into the cushion.
“Hah!” you pant at the impact, as feeling in your legs becomes unbearable. The car keeps crawling.
With laboured breath, you shift your weight, manage to slip your legs out and shove your feet against his moving hips, trying to push him out of the doorframe.
“I can do it!” you shout and kick, once, twice—
“Oh yeah?” Sukuna finally turns to you, swiftly grabs both your ankles with his lower left hand and pulls on them. The sudden motion makes you choke on your breath, as your butt slides off the cushion. He grabs your throat with his upper right hand and pushes your body flat onto the seat — bam!
With your sore ankles firm in his lower hand, he forcefully grabs the headrest of the driver's seat with his upper left one, now hovering over you and caging you below him.
“Keh.” Sukuna snickers arrogantly with a heavy breath, before he loses his grin, “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”
He pulls your ankles flush against his side, making your knees bend. You can’t move, now being locked even firmer into position. His leg pushes against the side of your hips — letting something in your stomach grow hot and extend into your whole body. His lip twitches deviously.
Nervously you swallow and squirm in his hold, grab his wrist with both your hands and try to catch your breath to ease the flush that you can feel spreading on your face. His bottom eyes twitch to your throat as your larynx bobs — before he squeezes a bit harder. And you gasp at the pressure against your scar, feeling your cheeks grow even hotter at the way his eyes are pinning you down just like his hand. Fuck!
Biting your teeth, you curse yourself as he slowly begins to stroke his thumb over your scar. You have to force your mind to ignore the pleasant tingle in your groin.
“Presumptuous?” you hiss and dig your nails deeper into his skin, “Just go slower…”
“Slower?” he breathes and cocks his eyebrow, slowly increasing the pressure on your neck. “Just how slow do you want me to go, brat?”
The pressure is so slow, so tight. With every second he gradually squeezes tighter, and tighter, until your mind closes in. The scar on his hand now fully touches yours on your neck. Connected.
And your lips fall open, begin to tingle. His eyes grow dark, pupils wide — like a maw. Deep enough devour you. Your heart keeps hammering against his hand. So hard, he must feel it throbbing beneath his fingertips.
As an act of resistance, you adjust your grip around his wrist and dig your fingers into his skin and artery just below his palm — as hard as you can, until you feel his pulse.
Badum.Badum.Badum.Badum.
Agitated.
Just like yours.
“Hah!” you gasp involuntarily feeling him like this. The wave of heat that adds to the intensifying sensation in your abdomen becomes undeniable. Sukuna adjusts his stance and shifts his weight, increasing the pressure of his leg against your figure. His body is taking up so much space in this tiny doorframe. So large, looming over you like a giant. And you swallow. Again.
“Mh?” he hums arrogantly, finally easing a bit of the pressure to let you speak. Your mind lightens and it takes you a second, until you’re finally able to push back. Focus!
“Slow. enough.” you glare at him between laboured breaths. “Can you even do that, Sukuna-sama? Or are you too proud to even know how to be gentle?”
The poison spurts over your lips, until you grow aware of what you just said. So bold, making you hold your breath at your own actions.
His lip twitches, “Can’t you tell?”
And your heart slips, yet the blood keeps pumping. Sukuna grinds his teeth, letting his darkened eyes travel over your flushing face, to your hands around his wrist and back to your face, watching the sight below him. Heavy and consuming, with his harsh pulse hammering against your fingertips.
Badum.Badum.Badum.Badum.
Just like yours.
“How foolish.” he coos, almost pondering. It makes your heart flinch. And you don’t know how to react.
Instead, you press even harder into his wrist, “Now get off and let me steer!”
His features twitch at your bold tongue, before he finally loosens his grip.
“Tch. I’m too nice to you.” he sneers, almost self-critical, and leans back. And you blink, almost surprised, while Sukuna softens his hold of your ankles and lets you wiggle them out of his lingering hands. “Careful with those feet...” he muses, before he turns and walks to the back of the car, clenching his fists.
With a sullen frown on your face and a tingle between your legs, you slide back on your precious feet and get in position. And after a quiet second, Sukuna begins to push again — this time slowly.
Once again you listen to the breaking grass and twigs and gravel beneath the moving wheels, as the vehicle finally rolls in an adequate pace. Very carefully, you steer the car out of the ditch. It rolls onto the street and without much effort, you both push it straight ahead and back to the house of Hikawa-san. There we go!
It should feel like success, but none of you says a word — too stubborn and sulky to appreciate the result. It could’ve been so easy.
The mechanic is already waiting, holding his toolbox in his right hand.
“Well that took a while.” he nags as soon as the car comes to a halt. And Sukuna clicks his tongue.
“Tch. I wonder why.” he remarks as he walks up to the old man, glaring at you with his bottom left eye, making you glare back at him, pissed. The mechanic notices.
“Ohhh! Heheh.” Hikawa-san chuckles, steps forward and taps Sukuna proudly on his shoulder, whose eyes sharply dart over to him in the split of a second. “Don’t worry my guy. Women always wanna be right. You’ll get used to it.”
“Excuse me?” you spit back.
“See? Heh.” he chuckles and points at you as if you just fell for a harmless joke.
Sukuna raises his eyebrow, his lips twitch into a pout and you don’t know if he’s annoyed, lowkey amused by this or even worse — quietly agreeing. Whatever it is, his increasing passiveness pisses you off.
“Anyway, we don’t have all day, do we? My back’s a pain—” Hikawa-san announces, lowers the toolbox and snips towards the car as if he’s talking to a servant, “Open up the hood.”
And you look to Sukuna and back to the mechanic — only to feel the pressure of them both waiting and looking at you in expectation. Of course Sukuna won’t know how to open it, so he’s just quietly siding with that prick to watch the situation. Maybe it even amuses him. Motherfucker.
A contempt twitch hushes over your face, before you wordlessly turn and lean into the car to search for the release lever.
“Do you even have a license?” Hikawa-san scoffs impatiently, “Lower! Under the steering wheel!”
You roll your eyes, cursing under your breath. It takes you a moment to find it, but during that moment, the eyes on your back feel heavy and quiet. You try to swallow the uneasiness and finally spot the lever— clp. The hood claps open.
“At last.” Hikawa-san comments thick with sarcasm and approaches the hood.
He slips the gnarly fingers of his right hand into the gap, reaching for the secondary latch to open it up completely — except he doesn’t. Hikawa-san’s face tenses and twitches, almost as if he physically wasn’t able to open it. His eyes dart to you and back down to his fingers — and over to Sukuna, who just stands there like a statue, quietly observing, doing nothing and nothing at all. Your lips press into a thin line.
“Do you need help?” you nag at the mechanic, who sighs sharply in response.
“Teheh.” he chuckles helplessly towards Sukuna as if he was the one who offered support. “This doesn’t get easier with age.”
You exhale and stride over to him, sick of being treated like incompetence itself.
“What is it?” you snap at him and his eyes dart back to you, almost disappointed it’s you.
“Right here…“ he drawls reluctantly and taps against the metal with his nail, tip, tip, “The latch is stuck a bit.”
You carefully reach into the gap, but Hikawa-san doesn’t make way. He keeps his position with his finger on the latch, probably to guide you. His annoying presence is thick and now he’s even standing a bit too close for your liking. You can even smell him. He reeks, old and bitter. And you clench your jaw and try to ignore it, try to focus and feel for the metal, tap, tap.
“Who would’ve thought?” he murmurs arrogantly as your fingers suddenly brush against his old and calloused ones. Finally you’re getting a hold of the latch. “Those slim fingers seem unexpectedly handy. Now pull it.”
But the tone of his voice and the feeling against your skin lets an appalling, nauseating feeling wash over you. Like a sudden and unwanted invasion of personal space. He retrieves his fingers clumsily, causing even more unwanted touches against your hand. Tension gets a hold of your stomach and you blink up to Sukuna, who’s watching with intense focus. It makes it even worse—
“For fucks sake! I said, pull it!” Hikawa-san orders and suddenly grabs your arm with his left hand. You flinch. The colour in your face fades at this sudden contact, as the grip in his fingers feels too firm to have not been able to pull that latch by himself — and with a sharp exhale, you pull it — clp.
The hood jumps up and you’re quick to step away, yanking your arm out of his hold—
“Piss off!” you snap, leaving him as shocked as you are. It all happened so fast. It all was too much.
Silence.
“S-Sorry. I-I’m gonna go and help—” you mumble after a second, suddenly not sure if you overreacted, and step away. Blinking to Sukuna, his already cold expression turned rigid. But you can’t care about that now. Instead, you lower your eyes and walk past him.
“Tsk. Whatever.” the wind carries Hikawa-san’s fading voice to your ear as you stride off with quick steps and your heart hammering inside your chest. Prick.
“Anyway, the bodywork looks dented, but shouldn’t be too much of a problem. The light doesn’t look damaged too. I will check on some things, but in the best case you just need a new battery.”
You bite your teeth. Your mind is racing. Instinctively, you feel your pockets for your phone. Mio would understand. Mio would listen and calm you down. She surely got back to you by now, right?
Maybe the old lady has a charging cable.
But — your pockets are empty. Cursing under your breath, you hurry back to the hut. The phone must still be inside.
Wreee
You enter the hut, spotting the tray on the floor where you last remember it. Sukuna ate everything, down to the last crumb. But your phone is nowhere to be seen, not on the floor, not near the tray or the oven, not on the working bench. Sukuna tossed you the key — did he also take my phone?
“Really?” you clutch your exasperated face into your hands. There’s no way you’re going back there right now.
Why did he take the phone??
As if that fossil could do anything with it in the first place…
You press your eyes shut, forcing you to take deep breaths to not snap right here and now. A moment passes, in which you’re forcing yourself to cool down a bit.
“Fine...” you finally exhale and accept the situation. Hoping it will distract you, you decide to bring the tray to the lady instead. It’s the least you can do anyway.
You lean down and grab the tray. The dishes clatter as you carry it to the door, the chopsticks roll around from under the plates. One, then the second — then a third and a fourth one. And you halt, digging your fingertips tighter into the wooden handles, feeling your stomach take a tumble.
Two pairs of chopsticks.
It has been two pairs of chopsticks the whole time.
“Motherfucker!” you spit through your teeth and kick the door open — bam!
“My goodness!“ the old lady promptly opens her front door. “Is everything okay?”
And you flinch, feeling caught. You quickly swallow your mood, seeing her alerted face like that.
“Yes, I’m sorry. The door was stubborn.” you apologise and force a light chuckle. “I just wanted to return these dishes.”
“Oh! That’s very nice of you!” she smiles relieved, steps aside and motions for you to come in. “Where is your boyfriend?”
“Oh, he’s with Hikawa-san.”
“Boy-stuff, eh?” she smiles. “How is the car? Will Hikawa-san be able to fix it?”
“I think so, yes. Luckily.” you try to sound cheerful and take a bow, forgetting you’re still holding the tray. “Thank you for helping us out!”
The dishes clatter—
“O- Of course.” she chuckles and motions you to the kitchen right next to her.
And step in, carefully lowering the tray onto the counter, right below a large window that’s facing the street. Right next to where you put the tray, a knife is resting close to a large radish on a cutting board next to the sink, about to be cut up and pickled. Whisked eggs are waiting in a bowl right next to a Tamagoyaki pan on the stove, while a nicely smelling stew is peacefully simmering in a pot right next to it. Fresh rice and a chopped up tonkatsu are placed next to a bento box that is waiting to be assembled. Must be his lunch.
“It smells delicious!” you smile and nod towards the stew.
“Heheh! You know, I’ve known Hikawa-san my whole life...” the old lady explains and begins to cut the radish, frp, frp. “I make him lunch every day.”
And you hum and nod, quietly thinking that he doesn’t deserve her care.
“I fancied him too, actually.” she suddenly adds. “After his wife left, we got close once or twice.”
“Oh.” it clicks, though a bit baffled about how open she is with you. “I see.”
Frp, frp.
“You know… your boyfriend reminds me of his son.” she quietly sighs, making your ears twitch, “I bet Hikawa-san feels the same.”
“His son?”
Slice after slice, frp, frp.
“He was also tall and grim looking, withdrawn demeanour, just like your man. Minus the uh, the…” she waves her hand in circular motions around her right side of her face, “the deformity, y’know?!”
You nod quietly.
“But then he fell off the right path, isolated himself and left the village to live in the city. He cut off all contact.” she pauses, slowing down with the knife. “That was thirty years ago. And his wife blamed him for everything, for not being there for their son when he needed him, for teaching him the right ways, you know? Eventually she left and he stayed here, wants to be all alone in that house and be the nasty grump that he is today.”
She begins to cut again, frp, frp.
“And I can’t stop myself from trying again and again and be there for him if he needs something, can’t help to make him his lunch. He wouldn’t eat properly if I didn’t and his mood is even worse when he’s hungry, so I do this for my own sake as well!” she explains, with her tone growing harsher with each word, before she motions with her knife out of the window, “Possibly for the sake of everyone here!”
A quiet moment passes, frp, frp. The blade cuts through, slice after slice. And you can’t help to feel a familiar ache in your chest, hearing her being so emotional about someone that is so difficult.
“I know he’s a pain, but he always lends a hand to others and doesn’t ask for anything in return. I think he blames himself just as much…”
And you listen quietly, thinking about him and the situation earlier.
“This doesn’t excuse his behaviour of course. I hope he wasn’t too harsh with you?”
“Well.” you exhale and make a face. And she nods, as if she expected it. “However, I think he likes Su— I mean my boyfriend.”
“See?” she chimes and arches her eyebrow at you. ”I bet he wanted to show off. You know, like a father would.”
Maybe he did…
“Insecure creatures.” she chuckles and shakes her head, making you chuckle. Her cheeky demeanour somehow helps to soften your anger about him a bit. “Anyway, tell me: how did you and your boyfriend meet?”
“Oh,” you didn’t expect this question, “it was like… just like that. Not a long time ago, actually.”
“I see. I see.” she nods, putting the cut radish into a bowl. “And?”
So curious.
“…To be honest,” you drawl and lower your gaze, fiddling with your hands. “He confuses me sometimes. He can be very mean… I’m not sure if he even likes me.“
“Ehhh?” her eyes shoot from the bowl back to you, irritated by what you said.
And you huff, slightly embarrassed, “I uh…” you start, thinking of the right words. “I made some mistakes that made him very angry with me... In fact, I expect him to dump me at the first moment that seems convenient for him.” you explain, watching the skin on your fingers turns red from the picking. “Maybe I should preempt him.”
“Hm.” she nods thoughtfully. “I know this behaviour.”
And you pick and pick, feeling your eyes tingle at the thought, until her hand slides into your vision, holding yours. Warm.
“Let me tell you something.” she hums and you look up. “I can see the hut very well from here. I saw how you left and assumed you were just going for a walk. I didn’t think much of it and began to crack the eggs. Then a few minutes later, I saw your boyfriend storming out of the hut all of a sudden.” she acts startled, as if she‘s telling a long lost tale. “I paused, wondering what’s up with him. He seemed so tense, his eyes went everywhere—” her eyes grow wide and she gestures all around her, until she pokes her finger at your nose, “until he finally saw you.”
You stir, feeling your heart flinch. Nervously, you open your mouth, but you can’t speak.
The lady smiles understandingly and nods, “To me, it seemed that he’s deeply troubled with something, but that wasn’t you. How could someone be troubled with a soul like yours?” she tilts her head, warm eyes embrace your soul.
And your chest grows heavy, recalling the look on his face, his eyes — but it can’t be. You know it. He’s too rude, too rough. Her eyes are dull, her heart too gracious. You would love to believe her, but you can’t. Instead you just force a hint of a smile. Insecure.
“Yes, yes I know what you’re thinking. This old hag’s eyes are old and dry. Why should I believe her?” she claims loudly and raises her eyebrows. And you’re caught. Right on the spot. It makes you huff to yourself.
“You know some people are quick with their brain, but slow with their heart. They reject and push away and seem unreachable — not because they don’t like you — but because they’ve locked their heart into the deepest corner of their soul. Maybe they were left alone or hurt or betrayed or all at once and were forced to bury their pain right along with it in order to survive. They know it’s there, but they rather don’t face it, much less show it — just like Hikawa-san.” she explains in a thoughtful voice. “It took me a while to understand this, but more often than not, it’s those people who carry wounds as deep as pockets. More often than not, it’s those people who need love and connection the most, even if they make it hard for the people who try.“
Her words sound so sincere and personal, as if she spoke of lifelong wisdom. And yet, you find it hard to believe. Sukuna seems so careless and indifferent, sometimes even silly in his own psychotic way. There’s no way he—
“I know what I saw when he turned and his eyes fell upon yours.” she continues. “For a second, not only his chest, but his heart seemed to breathe, too.”
Quiet.
You swallow.
“Well, if you ask me,” she raises her voice, “men like those are trouble and should seek therapy! No one should be forced to put up with this!”
And you snort, feeling your chest lighten up again. A bit, at least.
“But sometimes, you just can’t help to like them, no matter what.” she continues softer now, with her eyes turning glassy, “It’s hell with them and it’s hell without. So it’s up to you to take everything that comes with them — every adventure, every laughter, every argument and every heartbreak — or nothing at all.” she warmly smiles, but your stomach drops. “Choose your curse wisely. And live with it.” she adds, raising her eyebrows and quietly turns to the stove, leaving you with your thoughts for a second.
A curse…
Quietly, you watch her back, watch her stir the pot. You step forward and stand right next to her, focused on the stew, with your thoughts circling in your mind like the meat and vegetables.
“Heh. Like father, like son, eh? Even if they aren’t.” she chuckles and sniffs and taps the wooden spoon against the pot, pap, pap. “I wonder how those two are getting along...”
Clack, clack.
The metallic wrench echoes against the toolbox, making Sukuna blink from the street back to the old mechanic who is hovering over it. The noise was loud, sharp, making him grit his teeth.
“The girl,” Hikawa-san repeats himself a bit louder now and nods towards the direction Sukuna was looking at. “Do you like her?”
The question lets an irritated frown grow on Sukuna’s face, almost as if a chatty bird suddenly started talking to him. He crosses his arms, clicking his tongue. And Hikawa-san chuckles.
“Heh. I know this behaviour.“ he shakes his head and motions his finger towards Sukuna, before he picks up a screwdriver and turns back to the car. Sukuna frown deepens. “She surely has some temperament. Gotta be careful with that… Well,” the old man continues, cocks his eyebrow at Sukuna, “unless you’re into it.”
“Tch. Having your mouth running like a waterfall would make one believe you have finished your work.“ Sukuna hisses and taps his fingers against his biceps, “Well, have you finished your work, old man?”
“Old man.” the mechanic huffs, almost melancholic, and resumes to his work. “You said that before. And yet, I haven’t heard that in years.”
Sukuna lets out an annoyed sigh and begins stretching his neck from side to side, with his focus kept on the old man’s back and the stained towel that’s thrown over his left shoulder. After listening to the clicking and clanking for a bit, Sukuna steps closer, curious at what those old hands are doing. Impatient, too.
“This is the new battery.” Hikawa-san explains as if Sukuna asked, “It’s an old habit, but I always have one or two laying around in my garage. You never know…eh, grab me the 7mm wrench, will ya?” he blindly points with his hand towards the toolbox on the ground while keeping his focus on the screw he’s working on. Sukuna’s eyes dart down to the toolbox and its countless contents. A thoughtful pout grows on his lips, before he hesitantly crouches down and skims with his fingers over the metallic tools. Cold. Small and large, pointy and dull ones. Light and heavy.
“You two sure seem to be fond of each other.” Hikawa-san continues to tighten the screw, as if not in need of said wrench anymore. “Those hateful glances between you aren’t born from indifference. Trust me, I’m speaking from experience.”
“Spare me your tales, old man. I’ll be gone soon.” Sukuna mutters and spots a little faded number on one of the wrench’s handle. 7 mm.
“Tales.” he chuckles, while Sukuna lets his fingers skim over the 27mm one instead, “I was joking before, y’know. Believe me, when I tell you that you’re lucky. This is the kind of girl who will stay during your darkest days. It’s rare.”
“Tsk.” Sukuna stands back up, towering over the old man. “Are you done?”
“Nah, boy.” he turns to the giant, suddenly serious. “You’re a tough one, eh? Hard to get. But I already know from the way she looks at you, that she’s someone who is willing to look behind this grim armour and stiff chest of yours,” he pokes into Sukuna’s chest, which hardens even more now. “Who will take you into her arms despite your appalling words and behaviour. The only girl who will ever be willing to put up with your fucking nonsense, boy, because she has hope! More than you do!” his desperate words make Sukuna’s lips twitch. “Mark my words, boy! Don’t be a fool like me. Let her in and live a little, for your own sake.” the old man’s words fall heavy, with his old eyes ripped wide open, as if he was speaking from the depth of his heart, “You might regret it if you don’t… and regret hurts almost as much as loneliness. Maybe even more.”
A second passes. Sukuna’s eyes pierce into the old man’s laboured face. Clenching his teeth, he presses his fingers into the metal of the wrench. And then he giggles, laughs sharply.
“Pahah!” — loud and taunting, letting the colour in Hikawa-san‘s face fade away as if his soul has been twisted by a mere flick of Sukuna’s finger. “What a fucking lunatic you are! A dramatic one at that, too.“ Sukuna mocks with a sharp grin on his face. He leans down to him, flaring his eyes like the devil would. “Now, I’ve been waiting ever since you opened that lowbred mouth of yours and put those filthy fingers to use. I will ask you one last time, old man. Are. you. done?”
“Fine.” the mechanic swallows with jittering lips and nods. Not as a reply, but because he understands. Hikawa-san adjusts his stance and regains his composure, blinking his old, rude self back into his mind. Ready.
“That’s not the 7mm wrench, boy.” he chides grimly, pointing at the tool in Sukuna’s right hand and turns back to the car, “Try again,” he points to a bolt on the battery, “and screw that tight for me, will ya?” Hikawa-san grabs the towel to wipe his hands, before he shuffles to the driver’s door. “Then, we will be done.”
“At last.” Sukuna coos and promptly picks up the 7mm wrench with his left hand. He positions himself in front of the car and leans his upper hands against the bodywork, letting the 27mm wrench clank against it, clack. The sound makes Hikawa-san flinch, but he continues his way to the driver’s seat, while Sukuna keeps his bottom eyes focused on the old man. The mechanic glances over, just as Sukuna reveals his lower arms from beneath his Haori. And with a deep, anxious breath and shaky hands, he slides onto the seat, vanishing from Sukuna’s sight behind the opened hood. A hostile sneer is plastered on his face as he begins to screw the last bolt tight, wrp, wrp, wrp, just like the old man said.
Hikawa-san grabs the key and—
Wrmmmmm.
Your ears twitch. The motor faintly echoes through the street, just as you opened the kitchen window for the old lady. It hums smoothly, as if nothing ever happened.
“I think they are finished.” you mutter with a rising pulse. It’s time.
“Well, well.” she chimes as if you’re about to head into your next challenge. “Before you go, cheer up!” she smiles and hands you a little bowl containing a scoop of the fresh beef stew. Unable to deny this gesture, you take it with both hands and carefully eat it, spoon by spoon. It’s hot and in every sense perfect, really.
And you hum, happily smiling at the taste and finish the last bite. Satisfied with your reaction, she takes the bowl and leads you to the front door.
“Thank you. For everything!” you bow to her once again. This time, a bit deeper.
“Take care, little one.” she waves you goodbye. You smile at her and get going, before you listen to the closing door behind you.
Tschk.
The sound lets your heart sink, like a final goodbye. She grew on you and frankly, her words still occupy your mind and ache inside your chest. A buried heart, buried pain. In wounds as deep as pockets.
Can it really be? Does Sukuna need love?
Despite it all?
The birds sing, the insects whirr. The wind nestles against your face as you quietly walk down the street, with your figure swaying with every step, tap, tap — until a bone chilling blow scatters through the air. Metallic. Dull. A crack on impact. A choked up rasp.
Despite it all?
“Hikawa-san!” you breathe stricken with horror, and sprint down the road.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The back of the car comes into view.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Quick!
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The motor is humming quietly. The driver’s seat is empty, with the door opened — and Hikawa-san is nowhere to be seen.
Your mouth dries up and you come to a halt, tap, tap, just as Sukuna shuts the hood — tschk.
His head is towering above the body work, letting you spot the black smudges of oil mixing with traces of blood on his face. And you’re unable to tell if those are from his wound or —
Sukuna clenches his jaw, focused on his hands, before he lets his eyes dart over to you, almost as if caught. You meet his gaze and he swallows thickly, before he shifts his focus back down. With a frown you look down, but can’t really see what he’s doing. Nervously, you part your lips to breathe and begin to approach him. Focused on his moving arms, your eyes travel down his figure. Fine traces and spots of blood are scattered on his muscles. His biceps tenses and relaxes from his movements, as well as his pecks. And Sukuna sucks his teeth.
Closer.
You pass the passenger’s door, only to see him drying his blood drenched hands on a stained towel. The oil stained fabric soaks up the blood, turning the towel into a mere rag. Dark and depleted.
The air gets stuck in your throat, and yet you swallow the shock. You knew.
“What?” he asks dangerously, as if your reply was dependent on whatever comes next. And you look at him, until he slows down and shifts his gaze expectantly from his hands back to you.
Silence.
Again. This smothering feeling of — silence. It clutches at your collar like an unspoken whisper, almost begging you to stay. And you can’t bring yourself to walk away.
“… Nothing.” you whisper and Sukuna hums, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and flitches the towel into the toolbox. He harshly kicks it out of the way and walks past you. Your eyes dart over and notice a wrench inside the box. Huge, metallic — and shimmering with blood.
But there’s something else, letting your focus shift from the box to the field behind it. And your chest sinks as you notice the silhouette of Hikawa-san’s lifeless body. With his face smashed into the grass and bleeding from the broken back of his head. With his left arm twisted around its back and its fingers broken and cracked. And yet, a yellow butterfly dances in the light above his grotesque and inhuman figure. It’s done.
And you stay quiet.
Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets into the car and shuts the door loudly - clp. And yet, his eyes sear into the back of your head, while you watch the butterfly for just another second. The way it flies and flatters — weightless. Peaceful somehow, despite the cruel scene beneath its wings.
Odd, isn’t it?
All you can do is to wish him well, his soul, and for his wounds to close and his heart to be free. And you press your eyes shut and turn your back. Quietly, you swallow the bile in your throat as you get into the car, disgusted at yourself.
And yet, you can’t help it.
You shut the door and fasten your seatbelt — and so does he. Sukuna stirs inside his seat, almost uncomfortable, while you activate the navigation system. An annoyed click escapes his tongue and he stretches his torso to cram his hand deep into his pocket. And you watch in the corner of your eyes, until he takes out your phone. Wrapped between those murderous fingers, he wordlessly holds it under your nose. The blood only darkened the black oil on his hands. You swallow and take it, letting your fingers brush against his deadly ones — even though they could stain yours, too.
“Don’t take it again.” you chide softly, now fiddling with the phone. “You’re not my fucking boyfriend.”
“Tch.” he huffs at your remark. And you don’t believe it either.
You slide the phone into your own pocket, continue to adjust the rearview mirror and pause. With your tarnished fingers lingering on the mirror and a sharp tingle inside your eyelids, you look back along the road you came from.
And you wish her well too, praying she’s gonna be alright — somehow, someday — with a melancholic weight hanging inside your throat. It is heavy, just like your heart. And yet, there’s this feeling spreading in your chest. The pressure to look forward. The pressure to ignore. The pressure to accept — if you want to keep going, if you want to stay sane.
If you want to choose your curse. And maybe, you already did.
Slowly, you begin to drive. Past the garage, past the houses, past the free chicken on the field. Maybe the orange kitten is watching on its way, too. And you drive through the green fields along the electric poles that guide your way. The warm sun flickers into your windshield through the moving hills. It is quiet between you two.
Neither of you says a word, neither of you brings it up to speak about what happened or what follows.
And yet, you let your eyes flick over to him, seeing him looking out the window to his left. Distant, almost as if he was in deep thought. His upper hands are crossed over his chest, while his lower hands rest upon his lap, the right one over the pocket of his Hakama, fiddling through the fabric with whatever he has stored in there. Looking back on the road, you wonder if it's the pouch or maybe something else you don’t know about. Wonder how deep those pockets of his really are…
It doesn’t take long, until the expressway is labeled on the signposts — as well as the toll systems. ETC or Cash.
And you blink yourself back to reality.
“Shit!” you curse and keep driving without taking the ramp. Sukuna’s lower eyes blink at you as the navigation system shouts at you to turn around, again and again — but you ignore, don’t explain.
“Oy!” Sukuna grits his teeth. “Again?”
You click your tongue and keep driving along the road and past more villages, until you spot a Konbini with a parking lot. Small.
Promptly you take a turn and drive onto the lot. You halt and begin to tap into the settings of the navigation system. No toll roads — and the route adjusts to 10 hours. Double the time. Great.
Sukuna’s stare at you is turning hostile, making it seem like he’s collecting every possible threat in his head to spit them out at you, for having the audacity to delay this journey even further. You unclick your seatbelt and lean over his lap to open the glove compartment.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he grunts grimly, making you feel his thigh twitch beneath your figure.
And yet, you don’t give him a reply. Instead you tap past the first aid kit, wondering if Kenjaku was kind enough to have an ETC card installed. And as if you expected it, there’s none. No card. No cash. No nothing.
“Brat…” he growls more threatening this time, just as you slam the compartment shut, clp.
Everything that comes with it or nothing at all…
You exhale sharply and blink at the Konbini, pushing down every thought of what was before, trying to focus on what’s now in front of you.
Now, with your purse gone and your phone dead, you can’t even withdraw cash. It could be so easy… all you need is just a —
“Sukuna-sama…” you finally break the silence with a pounding heart. “…did you ever go shoplifting?”
Sukuna, new to the concepts of intimacy and affection, often struggles to express it. There’s no doubt he enjoys when you wrap your arms around him so fearlessly or smother him in kisses like it’s nothing, but he can’t seem to get over his pride enough to that.
As a result, the maximum he will do is pat your head like you’re some pet while you’re cozied up in his lap. Sometimes he’ll tuck your head in under his chin to look at whatever nonsensical task you’ve taken upon. Very rarely, he’ll offer to brush your hair.
But then he feels like as sufficient as he is in himself, he’s not enough for you. Your relationship is far from conventional and he often feels baffled by why a person like you would even love him. However, come hell or high water, he won’t let you go.
So now that the morning sun has brightened up the room, he can merely admire his clingy ass woman— hair all disheveled and sheets tangled between your legs, blissfully in a state so relaxed when a killing machine is right next to you.
He doesn't even know why his hands reach to caress your face, thumb gently rubbing against the smoothness of your cheek. He's so screwed.
“Infuriating woman,” he's not sure if the words he's used have ever had such a soft undertone to it. But he doesn't mind anymore, strangely.
“Not nice of you to wake me up so rudely.”
His hand halts, a scowl forming on his face. You were awake?
“Tch. You lured me into this.”
You gasp, propping yourself up as he pulls his hand back, “it's my fault now?”
“You're insufferable.”
“Don't be so ashamed. You can do more of it, I'm not complaining.” You pull his hand back onto your cheek, demanding his affection again. You're too brave for your own good. But that's okay, he prefers that.
He pinches your cheek at the display of your shameless clinginess, “you truly are infuriating.”
Just like that, he welcomes you on his lap again where he best prefers you. For now, the fact that he lets you be so near is the best display of his feelings. The once proud and mighty man feels his pride flush down the drain when it comes to you.
Sukuna told me to tell you that you need to stay hydrated and take care of yourself and have a happy weekend because we’d be so helpless otherwise queen
And Sukuna told me to give you the best wifey award 🥹🫂
As the shrine burns, his voice rings out: “I'm doing you a favour. You're just too irrational to see that right now.”
Cont:
Thea couldn't breathe. Smoke and ash filled her lungs, every exhale ended with a croaking wheeze. Her kosode was stained with blood and dirt, a deeper rough than her hakama. The slashes on her chest were shallow, she was alive only because he willed it.
The shrine was on fire. The Honden groaned and trembled beneath the light breeze, tongues of flame licking the sky. Buildings that had stood for thousands of seasons collapsed in on themselves like a child cowering from discipline.
Grand shadows that belonged to the Haiden, the komainu, the stage, were either gone or smoldering. The torii gates had fallen atop one another, uprooted and pushed to the ground.
Blood roared in her ears. Her frayed nerves demanded that she sprint into the trees, that she run until her feet were bloody and the smell of burning flesh no longer scorched her nose. But she couldn't feel her legs.
He was still talking.
“Not going to heal yourself?” he asked. Her only saving grace was that he decided to uphold the meager distance between them. Blood dribbled down her chin, but she was too tired to wipe it away. Turning her back to him was idiotic, but she needed to find her blade. Where had he thrown it? “Don't be boring. Stand up.”
Her fingers sank into the dirt, trembling with exhaustion. She dragged herself forward, in the direction of her naginata. Tears, sweat, and dirt marred her face. How pathetic she must have looked, crawling on her hands and elbows towards a blade that he could snap between two of his fingers.
She could heal herself; she could siphon the energy that was oozing from him and use it to stitch up the gaping wounds on her body.
The thought of using his cursed energy, the image of his curse sinking into her skin and pumping through her veins made her nauseous. That same cursed energy was the reason for the pile of bodies near the great hall. Every person, every priest, every shrine maiden, every wanderer, had been reduced to carcasses haphazardly tossed out of his way.
When she was close enough, she reached for the hilt of her naginata. As soon as her shaking fingertips grazed the wood, it exploded in a hail of splinters. He had been watching with vague amusement as she desperately tried to reach it, waiting for the right moment to squash her hopes.
Her hands curled into fists, arms quaking with effort. Tears fell from her eyes and landed on the upheaved ground. The dirt swallowed them eagerly, offering no comfort.
“This life that you cling to,” Sukuna said, walking closer. He crouched down next to her broken body, tilting his head to the side. His presence was oppressive, smothering. She didn't lift her head. “You said you find purpose in helping them. Those broken, weak creatures.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to block out his voice. Desperate to ignore the truth that he spoke.
“Maybe if you gave enough, if you sacrificed your dignity, they would come to appreciate you?” One of his massive hands seized her upper arm and rolled her over onto her back. The movement made her wheeze. Her eyes, golden and misty with tears, finally met his gaze. “It would never be enough. To them, you'll always be a tool, nothing but a useful pet to cower behind when they need it.”
His mouth curled into a sneer.
“And here you are, still trying to be weak like them,” he hissed. “Trying to roll over and die.”
She gritted her teeth and swung her left arm up, a piece of the shattered naginata lodge in her palm. She aimed for his eye, but never got the satisfaction of landing a blow.
He caught her wrist and squeezed until the shard slid out from her limp fingers. Then, his grip softened. His thumb pressed against her inner wrist, feeling her pulse. A foreign emotion softened his face and it terrified her.
“You'll understand eventually,” he said. Her vision was beginning to go dark. The stars overhead blurred together, fading until all that she could see was his four blood red eyes. “Or not.”
Her eyes slipped closed, her heart slowing down as she lost consciousness. Sukuna released her wrist and grabbed her by her filthy kosode. He hauled her over his shoulder, carrying her down the trail of broken torii gates.
