Chapter Text
“Sukuna-sama,” you stammered, sitting up on the bed, carding your fingers your hair, wrapping your fingers around their ends, covered by nothing except a flimsy silk robe that was intertwined between your legs.
“Yes?” he inquired, turning his head back around to look into your glassy orbs that he loved so much, looking at him with absolute adoration.
“Will you find me in my next life?”
Your voice came out weakly, even breaking in the last few words, reflecting exactly how much veneration you had for the man in front of you- the man who was veritably the most feared, the most dangerous man ever to have been born.
Sukuna took two steps towards you, crouching down to meet your eyes. He brought both his hands to reach your face to cup it, drawing small patterns onto your cheeks that were slowly creeping red- all while letting his crimson red orbs stare deep into your soul, his gaze serrating deep lacerations into your mind, though you could sense that the blade was blunt from the affection he had for you, the steel absolutely drenched in the honey of his adoration. “You think I’d let you leave me in this life?”
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As you swung your katana down at him, with him swatting your strokes off of him with ease, he merely glared at you, a malicious smirk plastered on his face. Flipping from the air and landing on your feet behind him, you dashed towards his torso, but you weren't fast enough. He struck down one arm against your neck lightly, using his other to knock you off your feet, sending your tumbling into the ground, and declared, "And now you're dead."
As you stared up at the man peering down at you with the most devilish look on his face, you sighed. "I give up."
Extending his arm out to you, his face contorted to a look of amusement with just a hint of sympathy, as he affirmed, "No. We're going to continue training until you can at least get one hit on me."
"That seems... impossible," you chuckled as you started to stand up, reaching an arm towards the nape of your neck to scratch it in embarrassment and disappointment. "Why do you even try, anyway? Even Gojo-sensei says that my abilities are almost at full capacity."
"Well, I'm inclined to believe he's lying," he chuckled, lifting and tilting his head, eyes fluttering nonchalantly. "I've seen what you can do. Your potential goes further than this."
Stepping back a few steps, lifting his arms in a "ready" stance, he folded his fingers in a gesture that said, "come at me".
And you did.
Pounding your legs into the ground like machinery, you jump directly up, bringing your legs in front of you to wrap around Sukuna's neck. He was too fast, quickly dodging backwards and grabbing hold of one of your ankles. He lifted his arm high up, causing you to dangle upside down in front of him. As his gaze dropped from your feet to your thighs, his mouth dropping slightly to form an "o", you took the opportunity to grab his torso with two hands and wrench your legs from his grip using your muscles. Flipping over like a gymnast, you landed on both of your feet, quickly leaping forward to try to tackle him on the floor, but once again, he was too fast. One arm grabbing you by your wrist, the other grasping your hand tightly, he pulled you into himself so that your chests collided.
In this position, with your chests crashed against each other, your fingers intertwining like grapevines, your head tucked into the crook of his neck, his shoulder slightly leaning forward as if to protect you, you couldn't help but feel like this was familiar, that this was perfect- the two of you fit perfectly, snugly against each other.
As you looked up into his four carmine eyes, you couldn't help but notice that his gaze was soft- softer than what you saw he gave to others. It was jarring- the look of exaltation, the look of infatuation, in eyes that normally only glowed in a mirthless, lusterless manner.
As if he'd read your thoughts, he laughed- no, he cackled. "Can't you see, pretty? I'm soft for you."
Eyelids fluttering slightly, he let go of the tight grip he had on your torso, muttering, "Well, the brat is back, guess I'll see you soon," before the tattoos that littered his body slowly faded, the two extra eyes closed, and the originally crimson eyes turned back to Itadori's signature sepia-tone.
Seeing your widened eyes, and the way your body was quivering like a leaf, his hardened eyes of shock instantly softened in pity and sympathy, and he asked, "Are you okay? I hope the dude didn't do anything outrageous this time."
Tilting your head up so that your lips reached his cheeks, you pecked a small kiss onto them, causing them to grow slightly rosier.
"Don't worry, Yuu-, he didn't do anything weird."
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"That boy is cursed."
Those were the first words said to him when he was born. The first words to ever grace his ears- mere seconds after he'd gotten out of his mother's womb. The first impression his parents ever got of the child they had wanted to cherish, they had wanted to love.
"When that boy eventually falls in love, he will become the King of Curses, and you will never be able to tame his wrath."
Gasps were heard all around the room, his own parents joining in with trembling breaths and falling tears.
Fortunately, his parents loved him enough not to kill him on the spot. Unfortunately, his parents loved him so much that they kept a possessive, suffocating hold on their only son.
He wasn't allowed to talk to anyone except their closest circle of friends and servants, much less the strangers that he passed by as he tagged along with his mother as she went about her daily ministrations. If he wasn't exposed to anyone, surely he wouldn't fall in love, surely his emotions wouldn't overpower him and cause him to turn into a curse?
They were successful. Overly successful, perhaps. The villagers spent years contemplating who exactly Sukuna was, as well as their feelings towards him, with the first few years of his life in curiosity, seeking to know who exactly the mysterious boy that the Sukuna family hid so well, then the next in apprehension, avoiding his steely gaze whenever he walked past their streets, refusing to say a word to anyone, and the last in fear, after hearing just the atrocities he'd committed on one of the noble families.
Sukuna didn't want to kill the family. They were just in the way. He wanted the land their house was situated on, but they never relented, fervently pushing against his proposals, refusing to leave the plot of land. So he slaughtered them, one by one.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with it. After all, he was taught from a young age that love was worthless. That love was something he should never desire. So why should he care if someone died, much less someone who was disrupting his goals?
Standing at the door, adorning his favourite white kimono, gripping his katana tightly in hand, he rolled his eyes. He could head the many servants and assassins getting ready to fight him, but he already knew they were no match for him. He was Ryomen Sukuna, for curse's sake- he grew up without love, without meaningless tethers, without emotional chains weighing him down. The people behind the door were mere specks of dust in his eyes- their familial bonds and their adoration for others causing them to be fallible.
It was unbelievable how rapidly he'd annihilated the entire household, his kimono now completely covered in crimson, his grip on his favourite weapon faltering- not in weakness, but in boredom- and his face not even showing the slightest signs of precipitation.
He stalked through the house to check for any more survivors, inspecting every single corner, every single hole in the house as if they were hiding precious jewels, until he saw you.
You were hiding in one of the bushes in the courtyard at the front of the house- he must've been too distracted, too annoyed at the household when he initially arrived to have missed you.
You held up one hand to your mouth, your gaze fixed on the grass below your feet, as if looking at Sukuna would increase the chances of him finding you. It was no use though, since you felt his strong, calloused fingers wrap around your waist and tug you out of the bush.
His only thoughts as he felt your skin brush against his fingers were that you were so soft. So small. So... in need of protection.
He let go of his katana- this time not out of boredom, but out of pity. Was this what love felt like? The overwhelming sensation to wrap his arms around your frail body, to swing his katana to decapitate every person that dared to place their hands on you, to set the entire village ablaze if you so much as thought about it.
But what triumphed over all those emotions was the pulling feeling that warned him not to put his hands on you, because he would be your ruination- he would be the one thing he wanted to protect you from.
Slowly swivelling on his heels to leave, he felt a small tug on the rim of his kimono, preventing him from being able to move forward. Tilting his head backwards slightly to see what caused it, he saw your fingers grasping desperately at the fabric, your eyes pulled together in fear, your entire body folded into yourself in anxiety. Dropping into a crouch, he hoped to get a glimpse of your expression- anger, perhaps, for killing your entire family. Fear, maybe,that you were about to be his next victim. But his expectations were completely subverted as he heard the most beautiful sound come out from your mouth, your tone so smooth and sweet it was almost like an angel had come down from the heavens to grace his ear with a song.
"Thank you."
Rapidly blinking a few times in shock, he tilted his head towards his left in confusion.
"What for?"
"For saving me from my family."
You lifted your head to make eye contact with him now- your eyes glossy, small droplets of tears collecting around the corners, threatening to fall. But they weren't tears of despair, he judged, not that he was a very good judge of character or emotion, considering he'd been isolated for the majority of his life.
Seeing your expression, he couldn’t help but stare- there was something about you that just radiated warmth, virtue, purity. Warmth greater than the hottest of suns, virtue more intense than the most faithful of believers, purity more fervent than the most innocent of angels. The way your jaw was trembling, your gaze darting up and down, from the floor, to his eyes, and down to the floor again, seemed like an unfortunate, an obtrusive juxtaposition to the energy you radiated.
He didn't want to see you cower in fear, much less because of him, so he brought the back of his hand to brush along the side of your cheek. You didn't flinch away, causing his heart to flutter slightly in his chest. In fact, you leaned into the touch, maybe slightly too much, maybe slightly too desperately, like a fawn snuggling up to its mother.
It seemed like a cruel joke, since the man crouching in front of you was nothing less than a violent wolf.
----------
Spoon-feeding the mochi into Itadori's mouth, you couldn't help but simper at the way he'd clumsily clamp down on the fork and pucker his lips as he chewed through the sticky, gooey rice cake.
Pressing the fork into yet another mochi, you raised it to his face but pulled back as he tilted his head forward to eat it.
"Uh-uh, Yuu- this one's for Sukuna-san."
Lips puckering to form a pout, he whined, "Why does he also get mochi? What has he done to earn it?"
Giggling as you watched a mouth on the side of his face gobble up the dessert, you replied, "I don't know- he's part of you. Guess I want to make sure he gets fed as well."
In all honesty, you really didn't know why you were being so nice to Sukuna. He'd all but tormented you these past few months, sneering and jeering at your every move, but his tone was always so full of mirth, so full of fervent desire, it almost seemed like the words were of flirtation.
And it wasn't as if you didn't hold the same amount of admiration for him, albeit in a less... obvious fashion. He was indeed an incredibly strong curse, and training with him was absolutely thrilling- your progress had increased much more under Sukuna's teaching, much to Gojo's chagrin- though you hadn't told Gojo how you were progressing so much, you were sure that he knew Sukuna was somehow pulling the strings since you were spending a majority of your time with Itadori- it made sense that his tattooed and petulant counterpart would be occupying your time as well.
Frankly, you were confused as to why Gojo was so miffed by it- shouldn't he be happy that his student was improving so much? Shouldn't he like your success? You simply justified that Gojo was just jealous that he wasn't the one to hone your skills, to discover your potential, and that it was instead developed by one of the worst curses to ever exist.
But your thoughts were completely eviscerated as you saw the way your boyfriend gave you the most nectarous beam, the completely out-of-place mouth that was now on his hand mirroring the same expression.
----------
The two of you were inseparable the following months, with both of you cooped up inside the house, spending the days entangled in the courtyard, training and sparring, while spending the nights entangled in your bed, legs intertwined and chests heaving in unison.
It was absolutely freeing for you. Your whole life, you'd been forced to be prim and proper, to suppress your sorcery- you were the only one in the family to have inherited sorcery, and it was seen as a curse- seeing as cursed spirits wreaked havoc all across the planet. With Sukuna, however, he accepted every single one of your thoughts with no qualms, engulfing every single piece of knowledge you gave him. He embraced every single part of you, literally, and figuratively, honing your abilities to the best of his own.
But all of this didn't come without a price. You were from one of the most powerful sorcery families, and they had a plan for you. Albeit a boring plan- they wanted you to simply be a figurehead for the family, with no responsibilities whatsoever- no political advising for you to do, though you'd proven from a young age that that was what you excelled at, and certainly no reproducing, since they didn't want to get any more sorcery intertwined into their "pure family genes"- and then eventually slaughtering you due to the curse you carried- but a plan nonetheless. One they intended on following.
From that day Sukuna slaughtered every last one of them on, the two of you had become sworn enemies of the many noble families of the village. There were never any attempts on your life though, fortunately. They'd seen the horror of the murders of your family. They didn't want to fan the flames of Sukuna's wrath.
But it didn't help that, to the peasants of the village, the two of you had become the most dangerous, most unpredictable people they'd ever known. Though they never showed it when the two of you walked through the streets, always bowing down at you, always smiling the widest grins, always speaking in sugar-coated tones, you knew that there was an inferno of hatred and fear simmering just below the surface.
It sent a stabbing pain into your warm, beating heart every time you saw a child huddle away behind their parents at the sight of you. And it sent an even more stinging pain into his heart whenever he saw the way your eyes would soften and water slightly every time you walked through the streets.
It took a cursed amount of strength to not rip apart the entire village for looking at you like you were some sort of monster, some sort of curse, but it was all worth it, when he was able to wake up each morning, to his chest heaving on your back, his arms wrapped around your bare torso, the one situated under your body satisfyingly numb.
It was all worth it when he was able to spend his day with you on his lap, slowly braiding flowers into his hair- though you gave up almost daily since you hadn't been educated on that aspect of life, as well as because his hair was just too short, causing you to give him the most adorable, most beautiful pout ever to grace the lips of any person.
It was all worth it when he got to fall asleep with you burying your head into his chest, releasing your warm breaths onto his muscles, wrapping your arms around his that were twice the size, as if you were trying to thread yourself into him; as if you were a doe protecting her fawn even though you were the fawn that had to be protected by the wolf.
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The brat really was careless.
The two of you were watching a movie, with you placing his head snugly in his lap, your face tilted slightly to face the TV. Being eternally exhausted teenagers, you fell asleep quite quickly, him embraced by the figurative comfort of your presence, and you by the literal comfort of his thighs.
So, Sukuna, ever the gentleman, decided to take the opportunity to show himself- taking over Itadori's body and leaning his head down eagerly to pepper small kisses onto the side of your face. You whined slightly, causing him to halt his ministrations for just a second. He didn't want anything to ruin his plans of getting you to slowly warm up to him- but right now, all he wanted to do was hold you, to touch you.
Itadori, however, had other plans. Apparently, that small little whine you gave him was enough to wake the brat up again, reducing Sukuna to merely a mouth on his right cheek. Sitting back upright, Sukuna prepared for Itadori to chastise him, and prepared a snarky retort back, perhaps even make him involuntarily cause him pain, like bite down on his finger, just to get a rise out of him, and for himself to get a laugh, but all that came out of Itadori's lips were, "They're amazing, right?"
And Sukuna couldn't help but nod along.
"You want them?"
The mouth on his cheek moved rapidly, contorting from a frown, to a pucker, to a pout, before he finally settled on a "Yes."
A pregnant beat of silence passed between the two men before Itadori finally replied, "Well, we've got to learn to share."
Wanting to feel a sense of superiority, Sukuna shifted his mouth towards Itadori's forehead, earning him the largest scowl known to man.
"Okay."
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Sukuna woke up one morning to you crashing your lips onto his. Instantly, his cheeks turned a rosy pink tint, his crimson red eyes lighting up like the sun at the sight. At that moment, all he wanted to do was stay on that futon with you all day, feeling his lips pressed fervently into yours, your soft, perfect lips pressing gently all over his body, your hands clumsily dragging down his chest, his heart exploding within his chest with every small action you made. But it was quickly interrupted as you pulled back from the kiss, him starting to whine due to the lack of contact.
"I have to go, Sukuna-sama."
"Why?" he was pouting again, bobbing his head up and down like a child that was denied a toy they wanted very much.
"It's been a year since we met. I wanted to go out, have some fresh air, maybe even buy you a new katana, or something, to celebrate."
Tugging at the hems of your kimono, he finally relented, staring down into his hands as he muttered, "Be safe."
Surely it was fine, right? There hadn't been any assassination attempts since that day, surely one day of letting you leave without him would be fine, right?
Sitting on the bed alone as he watched you go, he finally felt it. The thread in the stories you told him- the thread that connected two halves of one soul together- the thread that could tangle and entwine throughout the ups and downs of life but would never break.
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You woke up the next morning to Itadori staring intently into your eyes, almost as if he was gauging your reaction, to see if you remembered the last night. The sun was gleaming on your face, eyes gleaming in the last few rays of sunrise, the strawberry red painting your skin as if it were a canvas.
"Do you like Sukuna?" he asked, his voice like a serrated edge, cutting a sharp laceration through the air.
"Why are you asking me this first thing in the morning?"
He tilted his head down slightly, avoiding your gaze, one side of his mouth curling up to form a relieved, yet also disappointed smile.
"Because he does."
"And?"
"And I'm willing to share."
You pulled your eyebrows together in confusion, lifting your chin backwards onto his chest to look up into his auburn eyes.
"Why?"
"Why?" he drawled, running one of his hands down your back, and allowing the other to twist and twirl the ends of your hair. "Maybe I just want to spend the last few years we have together without hiding."
You couldn't help but notice the tinge of regret, the tinge of sad nostalgia in his eyes as he said those words, causing you to bring your hand up to the back of his head, pulling him down, allowing his lips to crash into your as if it truly was the last time you'd be together, the last time you'd feel each other's lips on yours, the last time you'd feel this warmth bubbling up inside of your chest.
"Okay."
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Just your luck.
The one time since that fateful day that you'd gone out, much less alone, was the day the nobles decided to assassinate you.
Roaming through the streets with a light skip to your step- Sukuna had treated you very nicely the previous night, leaving blooming flowers of purple all the way down from your jaw towards your thigh- holding a basket, your hair bouncing up and down in the direction you were running.
It must've been because your mind was clouded with glee, with happiness, because normally, you would've never let yourself be so careless as to not realise someone had been following you for the past four, much less someone that had such a strong sorcery presence.
But as you felt the blade pierce through your ribs, you realised it was too late. As you felt the stinging pain as an arm hit the side of your neck, rendering you unable to move, you smiled a sad, defeated smile, unlike the normal smiles you gave to people- no, those were genuine- those went up to your eyes, those conveyed love and pure joy. The smile you gave looked so out of place, looked so juxtaposing.
But it was the expression on your face as you felt the final pain of a blade stabbing through your neck, as you fell, leaving your world- Sukuna- behind.
—
He felt the thread break.
Impossible.
Broken.
He knew all the implications of the feeling. He knew exactly what had happened. He didn't hide his rage as he tore through the village in search of you. His heart was both burning and freezing, so chilling and cold to protect him from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to break him, yet also so fiery and hot to push him to enact his revenge, so let every single one of his emotions loose. It felt like he was a wolf trapped inside a cage, and on both sides of the cage were an inferno and a glacier- and all the ember wanted to do was to burn the world to the ground, while the iceberg wanted every living organism on the planet to freeze to death.
He tore through every single house, mercilessly slashing through the throats, the hearts, the heads of anyone who dared cross his path, woman, children and elderly alike. It felt exactly the same as the day he met you, except this time, everything seemed heightened, everything seemed elevated. His skills, for one, since he was breaking into absolutely zero sweat as he ran through the streets, but also his emotions. Every single memory that flashed into his mind o the 365 days you spent together ripped his mind, his heart, his soul into shreds, causing endless screams to rip out of his throat.
Finally, a girl, a poor servant girl, kneeled at his feet, tugging softly at his robe, her head pressed into his feet. He almost had the mind to kick her off, but his thoughts were stopped dead in their tracks as she muttered a small, "They're in the forest."
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And so the three of you went ahead with your peculiar, but convenient arrangement. You had Itadori by your side for the majority of the day, seeing as he was the vessel, and two of you had classes to attend together, but once the two of you arrive at your dorms, Sukuna, being the insatiable and frankly, lecherous curse he was, he pounced on you like a wolf in heat, bringing you to the brink of pain and pleasure every night, whispering the most sinful, the most wanton desires into your ear as you grasped onto his body desperately.
Itadori was most definitely conscious during every single one of those interactions, internally yelling at Sukuna to whisper more saccharine pleas into your ear, but secretly enjoying the way you complied and obeyed him. And he was most definitely conscious as he ran his fingers down your body as he scrubbed you clean after every ordeal, and he was most definitely attentive to the fact that Sukuna's heart was absolutely overflowing with joy every time you smiled back at him in gratitude.
Sukuna never let his hands leave your body whenever he was around you- when the three of you watched TV together, he'd whine and pout, commanding Itadori to drape his arm around your shoulders, and when he did so, the mouth on the side of his cheek would stretch to form the widest, brightest smile that could rival the Cheshire Cat's.
But Sukuna, surprisingly, also didn't shy from more tender, emotional moments. He was tentative whenever you needed a shoulder to lean on, whenever you needed a hug, whenever you just needed him to give you advice. He never showed it on his face, however always keeping his stoic expression, forever grateful for the fact that Itadori would never bring up how rapidly his slowly warming heart beat around you.
So, one day, finally believing Sukuna to truly be ready for you- his affection running so deep that the mischievous smirk he'd usually greet you with replaced with a genuine grin of adoration, you blurted out the one phrase Sukuna had been yearning to hear, the one phrase that finally broke the dark expression he wore every day.
"I remember everything."
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“Wake up!” he yelled, sanity held by a thread, threatening to snap in seconds. “I know you can hear me!”
His voice broke at the last syllable, tears welling up in his eyes, threatening to fall, the dams just awaiting the tiny push it would take for them to burst.
He pounded his fists into the ground surrounding your body, willing the vibrations, willing his rage to wake you up. He needed to see those gorgeous eyes look up at him, awe eclipsing your beautiful face again. He needed to see the wide smile you gave him every day, lighting up his world more than the sun that caused your eyes to gleam in its rays. He needed to feel those smooth, soft, delicate fingers trace down his body again, promising him that you were still there, still with him, still loving him, reminding him of just how much he loved you, just how much he needed to protect you, just how much he needed you.
Yelling up into the sky, he cursed any god, any cursed spirit, who was there to witness his wrath. “Bring them back or take me with them!”
He fell onto his knees, slamming both his fists into the ground, his rage so evident that the nearby villages- all no doubt ablaze and absolutely wrecked out of his rage- all shook incredibly with each impact of his hands on the ground. Your blood started to seep into the light sleeves of his kimono, and normally, he would have been disgusted by the sight, forcing himself to strip off his clothing, but at the moment, he could only feel anger, pain- he couldn't care less about the state he was in.
“They’re mine!” he gasped, in between desperate sobs. Looking up into the sky and shooting a vulgar gesture at it, he yelled again, “You stay away from them, it’s not their time!”
He voice was a wail now, the echoes vibrating through the forest, reaching the ears of every living person within a ten mile radius.
He slammed his head into the ground, as the grass- damp from your blood- muffled his cries.
And thus he was born, the King of Curses. From Heartbreak, from Sorrow, from Vengeance.