Chapter Text
Miharu was speed-walking to Sukuna’s office.
Her planner tucked under one arm. Her phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. And a tote bag hung from her wrist.
She was currently trying to mentally calculate whether she could reach Choso's school first, pick him up, then make it to Yuji's kindergarten before the tiny menace convinced his teacher he had been "abandoned".
Unfortunately, their schools were in opposite directions, and their classes would be ending soon.
She was supposed to have left the boardroom thirty minutes ago, though.
Key word: SUPPOSED.
But the darn devil wouldn’t let her go.
So now she was in a hurry.
Grrrrr!
Well, this was her routine now—
No.
This had been her routine for the past two months now.
Drop the kids off. Rush to the office. Survive Sukuna. Pick the kids up. Head back to the mansion. Force homework. Finish tomorrow’s reports. Pass out. Repeat.
How she’d survived this long remained a mystery. Possibly divine intervention. Could be caffeine. Or more likely, her pure desperation to survive adulthood and pay off her debt before it buried her alive.
Between work, taking care of the kids, and serving as Sukuna’s overworked PA, Miharu had been surviving purely on autopilot and spite.
And with her first paycheck as the “devil’s personal slave” only a week away, she still couldn’t decide whether to celebrate… or cry.
Why?
Because the second that money hit her account, she knew she had to pay Uraume back—
Courtesy of Yorozu’s unnecessary shopping spree.
...which meant she was paying off a debt she NEVER agreed to in the first place.
As soon as she reached Sukuna’s office, Miharu grabbed the rest of her belongings from her desk in the corner. [The devil himself had "personally" chosen that specific spot, presumably so he could keep an eye on her like an overpaid prison warden.]
She was in the middle of checking her things when the office door suddenly swung open, jolting her in shock.
Cue: The Devil's grand entrance.
The sound nearly made her dropped her bag but thankfully, she recovered real fast and forced on her usual professional expression instead.
The last thing she needed was to attract the devil's attention, especially since he seemed the happiest when someone suffered. And the more annoyed his victim became, the more powerful he seemed to grow.
Fortunately, said man didn't seem interested in tormenting her today. At least, not right now...
"Pack up. We're leaving."
"...W-where, Sir?"
"Where else?" Sukuna glanced at his wristwatch. "It's 14:00. Isn't that when their classes end?"
Uhhh....
For a moment, Miharu genuinely forgot how to speak. But-
"...The children's schools?"
"No, the zoo."
"..."
"..."
"The children's schools, obviously."
Oh...
"...What about your meeting?"
"It's done."
Done?
Miharu knew that that meeting had been scheduled to take most of the afternoon.
And it was not just a "meeting" but a BOARD meeting. So...
"Already?"
"..."
Wrong move.
The room instantly grew colder as Sukuna slowly looked her way.
Not a word.
Just a stare.
A single, terrifying stare that seemed to ask:
And who exactly are you to question me?
She straightened immediately.
"S-Sorry."
Wait. Why did I apologize?! I didn't even do anything wrong!
"Good. Get your things."
.
.
.
Neither of them spoke as the elevator descended.
Miharu stood awkwardly beside Sukuna, clutching her tote bag like it might offer her emotional support. She was still trying to process the fact that the board meeting had somehow ended hours ahead of schedule—
and that the devil himself was accompanying her to pick up the children.
His nephews, to be exact.
This would be the first time he had ever picked them up from their respective schools.
EVER.
Since Miharu had become both his PA and the children's nanny, Sukuna had never once volunteered for this particular "uncle duty".
Sukuna leaving work early to pick up children from school?
That was UNUSUAL.
On the rare occasions the chauffeur wasn't available, Uraume usually drove her and the boys instead. But Uraume was currently away on a business trip. So, Sukuna's sudden involvement felt... bizarre.
She couldn't help but wonder how the children would react when they saw him, although, knowing both would be happy for sure.
And honestly, so was she.
'A' for effort.
"Actually..."
"..."
"You don't seem bothered."
"By what?"
"Your friends."
Sukuna immediately frowned.
"I don't have friends."
"I can tell." Miharu felt victory as she echoed his words back at him.
Sukuna scoffed.
"Just get to the point."
"I was just thinking about what Tsukumo-san said earlier."
"I don't have time to deal with whatever nonsense they come up with."
"What if it's a serious issue?"
"It never is."
Not serious, huh.
Miharu fiddled with the strap of her bag.
"What about the rumors?"
"What rumors?"
"..."
"What rumors, Miharu?"
"About us."
The words came out much quieter than she'd intended. Hell, she even felt her face growing warmer by the second.
*Silence... Another silence*
Sukuna adjusted the steering wheel slightly as the car followed a curve in the road. As if the conversation ranked somewhere below traffic conditions in importance.
"I assure you," he said after a while, "...people talk about many things. And I don't give a shit."
Yup, sounds like him.
"Besides," he added, "people like to gossip. People like to talk about people, so why bother?"
Of course, who wouldn't like to gossip? It was practically human nature.
But for someone as introvert as Miharu, it was really hard not to care... especially if she was the subject of gossip.
Am I just overthinking?
She groaned quietly into her hands, wishing she could just shut her brain off for a while. The sound was small, but enough to break the rhythm of the man driving beside her.
Sukuna stared at her for a moment. Then, completely out of nowhere, he asked,
"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
"W-What?!"
"Sounds like you never had one. Nobody asked you out?"
Miharu blinked once, then twice, as if her brain needed a moment to catch up with what had just been casually thrown at her.
.
.
.
“I— excuse me?!”
“I said,” he repeated, “sounds like you never had one. Nobody asked you out?”
The man didn’t even look apologetic. One hand stayed steady on the wheel, the other resting loosely, his expression remained calm in that irritating way that suggested he genuinely believed he’d said something reasonable.
Miharu straightened in her seat immediately; her earlier awkwardness now turned into pure self-defense mode.
“That’s not— I’m just busy. I have a career. I don’t exactly have time to— to… entertain that kind of thing.”
“You don’t need ‘time,’” Sukuna snorted. “You just need enough energy to survive your own life. Not like you’re aiming to become some unreachable ideal of a career woman.”
!!!
For a brief moment, Miharu actually considered violence.
She even managed a polite smile on the outside, but internally, she was already reaching for the steering wheel. One sharp yank would be just enough to send the car swerving straight into Sukuna’s side.
Nothing fatal.
Just… a well-deserved, face-first introduction to the consequences of his mouth.
But of course, she liked living. So, she didn’t.
“…Noted,” she said instead, but—
“You’re really arrogant, you know that?”
Miharu could no longer contain her anger at this point, so she just said whatever comes first to her mind.
“I’ve been told worse,” the devil just smirked, clearly unaffected.
“I’m sure you have,” she muttered. “You just say things like that and expect people to— what, agree with you?”
Sukuna’s mouth tilted slightly, not quite a smile, but he was surely enjoying the banter. For someone who was used to having his underlings bow their heads and agree with everything he said, this was certainly a breath of fresh air.
“I don’t expect anything," he shot back. "You’re the one taking it personally.”
Of course, he would say that.
But what he didn’t say — and what Miharu completely failed to notice — was that he had started paying a little more attention to her reactions. As if he was checking every reaction she made when pushed off balance.
The way she frowned when annoyed.
The way she immediately got defensive whenever her pride was wounded.
And the way she seemed far more protective of his nephews than she had any obligation to be.
It was becoming surprisingly easy to predict exactly which comments would make her argue back.
And, much to his own annoyance, he was starting to find it entertaining.
Miharu opened her mouth again, ready to fire back, but Sukuna beat her to it—
“Still, you’re very concerned about those rumors.”
"What do you expect me to do?!"
"I haven't actually heard any rumors about us yet. But since you seem convinced they're inevitable—"
"Correction!" she interrupted. "I did not say I was expecting rumors about us."
"You've spent the last ten minutes worrying about them—"
"That doesn't mean I'm expecting them!"
"It sounds exactly like that."
"It does not."
"It does."
Miharu stared at him.
Sukuna continued driving.
The man had the incredible talent to sound unreasonable while somehow making her feel like she was losing the argument.
"What if you just accept them?" he spoke again.
“Huh?"
Sukuna’s kept his eyes on the road. “Instead of denying them every time, just let people think whatever they want.”
“…Is that even—”
“Yes.”
"That wasn't the question."
“It didn’t need to be.”
Miharu's mouth opened.
Closed.
Then opened again.
At this point, she was beginning to resemble a very confused goldfish.
“No need to make it serious,” the devil added. “People like drama. Let them have it. Sometimes it’s easier to just let a rumor exist than spend energy killing it."
“And you think I should just… pretend it’s real?”
“WE," Sukuna corrected.
"...If it shuts them up faster, why not?”
"Eh?!"
"Come on," for the first time in several minutes, Sukuna glanced at her. "Should I say the obvious?"
*THUMP*
Miharu stiffened.
What's this?
*THUMP*
There it was again. She could certainly hear it. No, feel it. The sudden loud thump in her ears, also known as her heartbeat.
“Unless you care that much about what they think. What do you say, Miharu?”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"It would benefit both of us to let people think that... we’re dating.”