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“Can you just let me rest?” a familiar voice snaps. Sukuna whips around, blinking at the unexpected arrival. Yuuji stands before him, his visage blurred by the dim lighting of his domain. The boy takes a step forward into the light, and Sukuna watches as his facial features become more pronounced. His skin looks unusually pale, and his bones seem to protrude from his body. Despite the furious expression on the boy’s face, there’s a clear exhaustion lingering behind it.
“How did you get here?” Sukuna snaps at him, glancing around the space despite the knowledge that it won’t give him any answers. Itadori Yuuji has always been a mystery. He does things that are seemingly impossible on a daily basis—a fact that Sukuna has begrudgingly grown to accept. The boy shakes his head and stumbles forward, effectively jerking Sukuna out of his thoughts. He seems to be unusually off balance, as he sways on his feet. Their sudden proximity allows Sukuna to notice the dark circles under Yuuji’s eyes, the dazed way in which he takes everything in around him.
“You’re destroying me,” Yuuji hisses, his brows furrowed and his fists clenched at his sides. If he weren’t wobbling on his feet, perhaps the sight would be intimidating. The boy’s anger has been itching and prickling under Sukuna’s own skin for several hours, and he’s rather surprised that he hadn’t anticipated an encounter with the boy sooner. However, Sukuna isn’t really one for preventative action. He’d rather deal with things as they come, instead of trying to predict them ahead of time. Besides, Yuuji is just entirely too unpredictable for Sukuna to anticipate. “All you do is destroy.”
“You think I care?” Sukuna laughs, trying his best to ignore the pressure on his chest and the way his voice slightly wavers at the end of the statement. After all, he's heard those words a million times before. Somehow, though, they are sharper when wielded by Yuuji. Despite the way they tear at his skin, Sukuna is used to protecting himself. He deflects the insults like he always does. “I am the King of Curses, boy. That's what I do.”
“There was no reason for you to go to such lengths,” Yuuji mutters, wiping at his eyes angrily. Despite his sadness and grief, his eyes are fiery. Something lies below the surface of those tawny brown depths, and Sukuna once again finds himself wanting to push and prod at the boy some more. He wants to break him, so much so that he begs for death. Yuuji seems to sense his thoughts, because he takes a hesitant half-step backwards. Sukuna grins and lunges right at him, stopping to stand right in front of the boy—so close that he can feel the boy’s shaky breaths, see the emotions flickering in his eyes. It’s captivating and enthralling.
“Your life was already cursed, long before I got ahold of it,” Sukuna spits out, words falling from his tongue before he can stop them. Yuuji’s eyes widen, but Sukuna’s mind is pushing his thoughts to his mouth far faster than he can control. He doesn’t filter what he’s saying or even bother to think of how his words affect the boy. “Why do you think you attract curses, brat?”
For once, the boy doesn’t answer. Sukuna wants to be satisfied. He should be satisfied. Instead, he feels something foreign stewing in his gut. It’s strangely painful, a burning feeling under his skin that sends a shiver down his spine and dries out his mouth. He resolutely pretends not to feel the sensation and waits for a response from Yuuji. The boy’s eyebrows are knitted together in contemplation, but he doesn’t speak. The realization falls neatly into Sukuna’s hands.
“You thought it was because of me?” Sukuna laughs, a twisted grin growing on his face. He’s incredibly amused at the conclusion the boy has come to, despite the fact that it’s entirely true. Still, it’s far too easy to convince him otherwise. Yuuji’s too trusting of those he’s close to, and for some reason he seems to think Sukuna is trustworthy. A rather laughable mistake, in his opinion. “No, boy. The curses are attracted to you. You’re a beacon of darkness and they crave it.”
The boy’s head is inclined towards the ground. A light pittering sound echoes throughout the area, and Sukuna looks down to find that they are teardrops. He wants to laugh at the fact that he has coaxed vulnerability out of Yuuji so easily. He wants to slice his throat like he does whenever someone else cries. However, Yuuji has always been more than just another person. He’s far more entertaining than the lowly filth that Sukuna typically finds himself forced to interact with. It’s this thought that pushes him to continue testing the boy’s limits.
“You are a curse, in everything but form,” Sukuna murmurs, reaching out to tilt the boy’s jaw up. He grins at the devastation on the boy’s face. Yuuj’s eyes are red and his cheeks are stained with tears. Even despite this sadness, his lips are pulled into a determined grimace. Sukuna can’t help but wonder just what it will take for this boy to fall apart. He takes a moment to recall what he knows of Yuuji. He’s stupidly reckless, pushed by adrenaline and motivated by the ones he loves… The ones he loves. Suddenly, a thought comes to the forefront of his mind. It’s incredibly tempting, so much so that Sukuna doesn’t realize he’s speaking until the words fall from his tongue. “Why do you think your grandfather died, boy?” He knows this is a low blow but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s the King of Curses—caring isn’t even a word in his vocabulary, let alone something he can tangibly feel.
Yuuji throws a punch at him and it’s so laughably predictable that the King of Curses is able to catch the boy’s fist in one hand. “I’m all that you have,” Sukuna smirks, dragging a nail down the boy’s wet cheek and grinning at the scratch it makes. He’s suddenly taken with the taunting thought of scratching the boy more, carving into his face until there’s a permanent mark, a constant reminder of who he belongs to. As if possessed with a mind of its own, his nail digs into the boy’s skin even more, drawing droplets of blood to the surface. Yuuji lets out a pained hiss, teeth gritting and eyes fluttering. Sukuna feels his smirk begin to widen impossibly at the boy’s rebellion.
“And I’m all that you have,” Yuuji replies, arrogant as always. Sukuna wants to be infuriated with his boldness. Anyone that ever speaks to him like that dies a gruesome death. Sukuna can’t bring himself to be frustrated with it when it comes from Yuuji, however. Yuuji’s stubborn pride is delicious; more importantly, it is his. Yuuji, in all his reckless abandon, is his. Everything that Yuuji has is Sukuna’s, in the same way that everything Sukuna has is Yuuji’s.
Yuuji is tired, and not in a way that can be solved by sleep. Physically, he’s fine. It’s his mind that is the problem. His thoughts race past him, feeble glimpses that flicker and fade away whenever he tries to muse on them too much. Yuuji can’t help but think of all the trouble he has caused for the people close to him, those people he calls friends and family. He is a burden. He always has been and he always will be.
His conversation with Sukuna weighs heavily on his mind and the remnants linger on his skin. There’s a jagged scar running down the length of his cheek, evidence of the way Sukuna tore the world out from under him. He brings a finger up to touch it, only to sense feelings of subdued pleasure and satisfaction that aren’t his own. Yuuji sighs and gets ready for his day, pretending not to notice the mark on his skin and the haze of his own confused thoughts.
Sukuna is always present in his mind, cackling and offering witty commentary that Yuuji really wishes he couldn’t hear. Sometimes, he’s about to slip into sleep when the King of Curses’s thoughts wrench him from slumber. The past few nights, he has found himself lying awake for hours, listening to thoughts that aren’t his own. His mind tricks his body into thinking he doesn’t need sleep. Yuuji can feel himself slowly deteriorating, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
He’s so exhausted—physically and mentally—that he can’t even bother to pay attention to their current mission. He’s distracted as he walks down the street after his friends. His mind is elsewhere, contemplating the seemingly infinite stream of mind-boggling events he’s experienced within the past few weeks. Megumi and Nobara walk in front of him, Nobara ranting about something while Megumi nods along. They tried to involve him in conversation a few minutes ago, but Yuuji found himself to be far too distracted to be of much use.
A honk sounds from the street, loud enough to make his friends flinch. Yuuji is too caught up in his thoughts to take notice of the outraged honks or the car drifting towards him, tires screeching as the driver flies through the red light and careens towards the sidewalk. He’s jerked out of his thoughts when the car successfully enters his limited field of vision. Realizing it’s but a few feet away, Yuuji comes to the inevitable conclusion that he is going to die, sprawled out on the pavement of the street like a grotesque, unmoving marionette. He immediately regrets that he didn’t talk to his friends or say a proper goodbye to Gojo-sensei this morning. His life flashes before his eyes, feeble glimpses that make his eyes watery and his heart clench tightly in his chest.
Just as Yuuji closes his eyes and prepares for the impact, something tugs at his gut, wrenching him to the side and out of reach of the car. The car just barely misses him, barreling by and speeding away as if nothing happened. Yuuji finds himself sprawled on the ground, hands rubbing against the rough pavement and heart racing. He closes his eyes for a selfish moment, letting the worried voices of his friends fade to the background. His finger comes up to touch the jagged scar on his face. A familiar voice comes to the forefront of his mind, whispering in his ears.
“If anyone’s going to kill you, brat, it’s me.”
Yuuji thinks he shouldn’t find that as comforting as he does. He thinks he should be scared, anxious or intimidated. Instead, he is relieved. He feels… safe. Yuuji takes Megumi’s extended hand, ignoring the concerned look on his friend’s face and resolutely leading the group further down the street until they reach the building they’ve been assigned to inspect. It’s a tall but dilapidated tower. Plants spill from the concrete holes that appear to be windows. There’s a shabby layer of tile covering the exterior walls of the first floor, which is just about the only sign that the building was ever inhabited. Yuuji sighs and takes a look back at his friends, who are wearing similarly exasperated expressions as he is. Nobara sighs, tossing her hammer up in the air before catching it and pointing it at the door. Yuuji resists the urge to roll his eyes at her theatrics, instead kicking the door down as suggested and stepping into the building.
Unsurprisingly, the tower’s interior is just as wrecked as the exterior. There’s hardly any sign that the structure was ever used, save for the pile of bent metal in the corner that Yuuji thinks to be discarded chairs. The only light source is the sunlight seeping through the cracks in the ceiling, illuminating stripes of the ground at their feet. Megumi and Nobara walk behind him cautiously, glancing around the space and waiting for a curse to spring out.
To Yuuji’s annoyance, they don’t find any curses. In fact, the building would seem to be entirely devoid of them, if not for the dark aura that lingers heavily in the air. It’s very strange. He pauses to take a break when they return back to the first floor after exploring the rest of the building.
“I’m getting the feeling that there aren’t any curses here,” Nobara sighs, procuring a water bottle out of nowhere and sipping it. Yuuji reaches out, expecting her to share it with him. Instead, his friend just stares at him. He rolls his eyes.
“You’re just saying that because you’re too lazy to fight,” Yuuji shrugs, manifesting a sudden interest in his nails. Nobara lets out an offended growl and launches herself at him, only to be stopped by Megumi’s hand on her collar. He laughs at the way she glares at the dark-haired boy.
“Enough,” Megumi hisses, shaking Nobara a few times before releasing her collar. Nobara smiles sheepishly and folds her arms behind her back. “We need to find those curses.”
“It’s strange that they’re hiding,” Yuuji frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. Most of the curses he has encountered are extremely confrontational. Even the shier ones would make their presences known within a few moments of him and his friends stepping foot in their territory. Musing the thought, Yuuji heads off into another direction. Megumi and Yuuji take the upper floors, while Nobara takes the first floor. They’re hardly a few minutes in before the boys hear Nobara yell for them.
“Guys!” Yuuji and Megumi exchange a worried glance before running over to their friend. They find Nobara standing before a brick wall, hands on her hips and a righteous smirk on her face. “I think I found it.” She places her hands on the wall and pushes it forward. To Yuuji’s surprise, the wall caves in to reveal a huge space. It’s entirely dark, but a few beams of light fall in from cracks in the walls. They exchange a few looks before stepping inside.
The moment they walk in, the wall slides shut behind them. Yuuji gulps, an uneasy feeling coursing in his gut. Nobara and Megumi seem to be similarly apprehensive, if the defensive postures they have now adapted are anything to go by. For a moment, the three of them stand in silence. Yuuji is just about to break the tension with a well-timed joke when he catches a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eyes. He whips his head around, but he doesn’t see anything. Biting his lip, he turns away, only for his eyes to catch on a congealed mass. There’s a huge mob of curses spanning the length of the entire enclosed space. The crowd is extremely jumbled, so much so that Yuuji can’t tell where one curse ends and the other one begins. He glances sideways at his friends, who nod affirmatively. Yuuji sighs and turns to the side, taking a few steps forward and launching himself into the mob of curses. He throws punches right and left, breathing hard as the curses slowly begin to dwindle. At least, he thinks they begin to dwindle.
Yuuji is annoyed to find that the curses bounce right back up within a few moments of him attacking them. Each time he thinks he has decimated one, another one jumps in its place. He’s making little to no progress on controlling the crowd. Yuuji is able to cast a sidelong glance at his friends, and they seem to be faring just about the same as him. He grits his teeth and resolutely continues fighting, ignoring the trepidation gnawing at his chest. The curses are slowly starting to expand into the space around him, until he finds himself pressed against the wall behind him. A worried shout echoes throughout the space and he tears his eyes away from the creature in front of him. Nobara is holding her left arm, a pained expression on her face. Yuuji bites his lip and tries to run after her, only for his side to explode with pain. In his haste, he had completely forgotten about the curses surrounding him. Yuuji groans, letting his head fall back against the wall.
He presses a shaking into the wound at his side that seems to be leaking blood. Yuuji takes a shuddering breath, familiar pinpricks of pain coursing through him. He’s too absorbed in putting pressure on his wound to notice Sukuna’s uncharacteristic silence or the unknown curse looming over him with sharpened claws and a greedy smile on its twisted face. His vision blurs, dark spots teasing him from the corners of his eyes. For a brief moment, his vision clears enough for him to see a large curse standing in front of him. Its arm pulls back, and for the second time in one day, Yuuji resigns himself to death. The curse’s claws extend and rip down towards his body. His life doesn’t flash before his eyes this time, and he’s relieved when he notices that Megumi and Nobara are too engaged in battle to notice him sprawled in the corner. Yuuji doesn’t want them to see this.
Just as its claws are about to rip through his flesh, his hand shoots out, twisting to the side to dodge the blow and wrenching the creature’s arm off of its body with an inhuman strength Yuuji knows he doesn’t possess. He’s too exhausted to object to the probing and pushing feeling in his mind. Sukuna drags himself to the forefront and Yuuji rescinds control, selfishly allowing himself to sink and drown in his own mind and body. He doesn’t bother warning Sukuna of the consequences of his actions. Yuuji wants to say that this is because he is drifting off into unconsciousness, but the rational part of his mind knows that he trusts Sukuna enough to let him take control. With that in mind, he finally allows himself to succumb to the exhaustion seeping through his skin.
Sukuna is quietly observing Yuuji’s mission with thinly-concealed boredom. The missions are among his least favorite activities. When he tries to mess with the boy, Yuuji is often too distracted to notice. He can’t demand the same attention that he normally does, and it’s infuriating. Thus, Sukuna lounges about his domain and only bothers to pay attention every few minutes.
A shiver runs up his spine and he stiffens. Sukuna furrows his brows and looks to Yuuji, eyes widening as he sees the boy sprawled against a wall, surrounded by hungry curses. Sukuna growls and forces himself into control. He gains control just in time to stop a curse from striking and connecting a deadly blow. Sukuna makes light work of the curses around him, even going as far as to destroy some of the other ones that the brat’s friends seem to be struggling with. The dark-haired boy sends him a questioning gaze but Sukuna entirely ignores it, in lieu of ripping apart a curse that was looming behind him.
Sukuna relinquishes control the moment the boy’s friends run towards him, allowing his, their, body to fall to the ground. He sinks back to the recesses of Yuuji’s mind, content with his performance. Yuuji’s friends carry him back to the school and into the infirmary. To Sukuna’s annoyance, he spends a rather lengthy amount of time unconscious in the infirmary. Typically, the King of Curses would rejoice at the thought. However, he can’t help but feel a strange pang of loneliness, as he makes witty remarks that go entirely unnoticed. Sukuna busies his time with throwing skulls around in his domain, resolutely ignoring any and all thoughts of warm brown eyes, fluffy pink hair and a soft smile. One particular memory lingers in his mind, its presence so forceful that Sukuna crushes the skull in his hands in a rather pathetic attempt to get rid of it. The effort doesn’t quite work, and Sukuna is instead left staring down at the dust that now coats the ground.
Yuuji eventually wakes up a few days later. Unfortunately, Sukuna finds that his satisfaction with his performance isn’t enough to override the boy’s emotions. The King of Curses isn’t exactly sure how to pinpoint what these emotions are, because they’re all encompassing and strong in a way no other ones have been. As far as Sukuna knows, the boy has never experienced these feelings. Furthemore, these unsavory feelings only increase in intensity as time passes. The moment Yuuji leaves the infirmary, Sukuna is hit with a wave of feeling so startling that the breath is nearly stolen from his lungs. He watches in confusion as the boy stumbles back to his dorm room, ignoring any and all outside distractions. If Sukuna weren’t the King of Curses, perhaps he would be concerned about his vessel’s behavior.
Sukuna convinces himself that he isn’t concerned. He watches carefully as the brat seems to move with purpose throughout the room. Yuuji hardly spares a passing glance at anything in the room, instead focusing on the nightstand at the side of his bed with determination. Sukuna wonders what is in the drawer. Maybe he should put a curse in there to liven things up. He quickly dismisses the thought, acknowledging that Yuuji is in too weird of a state to properly react to his taunts.
Sukuna isn’t sure exactly what he was expecting Yuuji to grab, but a knife definitely wasn’t it. He hears a sharp intake of breath that he vaguely recognizes as his own. The boy turns around and Sukuna swallows hard. Yuuji is wrecked in a way Sukuna has never seen him. He notices that the boy is shaking uncontrollably and the realization is so startling that he has to take a moment to calm his thoughts. For the first time, the King of Curses is afraid. Fear rears its ugly face at him, making him reconsider the words that usually fall from his tongue with ease. The knife in Yuuji’s hand glitters mockingly, gleaming as it reflects the light above. It’s clean and Sukuna will do anything to make sure it remains that way.
“Brat,” Sukuna says, trying to put as much force into his voice as possible. The boy doesn’t say anything in response. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, so chaotic that Sukuna can’t even begin to understand them. The images running through his mind are far too gruesome to be that of the boy Sukuna has grown to know. The knife in his hand, Yuuji’s hand, is pressed against his forearm, Yuuji’s forearm. The blade glints from its position—mere inches from the skin on the boy’s arm. For a painful moment, Sukuna blinks and he can see droplets of blood spilling down the brat’s tanned skin.
“Yuuji.”
A plea lays heavy on the tip of his tongue. The King of Curses has never begged before. He never quite understood why people beg, because he has never had anything to lose. Sukuna closes his eyes and thinks of all the times that people cowered before him, crying and pleading that he spare their friends, family. His wretched heart sinks like a rock in his chest. His breaths stutter in his throat and he can’t help but think: Oh, this is what it feels like.
Sukuna has never felt so entirely helpless and he hates it. He hates that he can’t take control of this menace of a boy, rip the tremors from his hands and scream obscenities at him. He hates that he can’t understand the boy’s thoughts. He hates that the boy thinks he deserves to die in such a gruesome manner, at his own hand surrounded by the grimy tile of his dorm bathroom as he sweats in the midsummer’s heat.
An idea springs to his mind, and Sukuna latches onto it like a man looking for water in a desert. He closes his eyes and pulls, extending his domain and beckoning Yuuji after him. The boy doesn’t seem to notice at first, as he doesn’t object until it’s too late. Sukuna watches from his throne as Yuuji falls to the ground, wavering unsteadily on his feet. The boy’s hands shoot out to brace the ground. For a long moment, Yuuji’s head is bent to the ground and he remains entirely silent. Trepidation makes a home in Sukuna’s chest, itching and prickling at his skin. Just when he’s about to move closer, Yuuji’s voice breaks the silence.
“Why- why’d you do that?” Yuuji stammers, his face a sickly pallor. His eyes flit around the domain nervously, a restless energy thrumming under his skin and threatening to encompass everything around him. Sukuna takes a moment to drink in the sight of the boy. He’s not sure he likes what he sees, between the boy’s trembling hands, sunken eyes and pained grimace. Sukuna doesn’t reply to Yuuji’s question, which only seems to anger the boy further.
“Just kill me already,” Yuuji whispers, his eyes wide with an emotion the King of Curses doesn’t want to recognize. He takes a step closer and grabs Sukuna's shoulders. The move is so uncharacteristically forward of the boy that Sukuna finds himself frozen in the boy’s grip. Yuuji’s fingers clench and unclench, pulling at the threads of his very soul. “Come on, just kill me.”
“Why should I?” is all Sukuna can trust himself to say. Fortunately, his voice doesn’t betray any of the emotional whiplash he is currently feeling. Instead, the statement falls rather flat in his own ears. It sounds entirely too empty and hollow, despite the raging tornado of emotions ripping at his chest.
“You said you wanted to,” Yuuji accuses, his grip tightening on his shoulders. More tears fall from his eyes, and a few fall from his face and stain his shirt. The boy wipes at them furiously, before returning his grip to Sukuna’s shoulders. “You promised.” Sukuna’s gut turns unpleasantly. A prickling feeling rises in the back of his throat. What can he say? What should he say? It’s true that he wanted to reduce the boy to a shriveled and wrecked mess, but not like this. He wanted Yuuji to beg for death, but not like this. The indecision he’s feeling must show on his face, because Yuuji’s expression quickly turns from hopeful to devastated.
“Are you serious?” the boy spits, a hysterical laugh bubbling from his throat. Sukuna remains silent. “How fucking cruel can you be?” Sukuna doesn’t know how to respond to that. He knows that the second he opens his mouth, the truth will spill out. He doesn’t want that to happen, he can’t have that happen. The King of Curses looks down at the boy through a mask of indifference, despite the strange tightness in his chest.
“I will not kill you, brat.”
Yuuji falls to the ground, sprawled in a heap of limbs. The sight would be a bit endearing, if not for the way his eyes roll to the back of his head. Sukuna hesitates for a moment before placing a hand on the boy’s head. He allows his fingers to run through the fluffy pink hair, and his nails scratch at the scalp. For a brief moment, he holds it in a tight grip, before relaxing as he realizes that this will only annoy Yuuji further. Hesitantly, he releases his grip and steps away from the boy. Sukuna sighs loudly and pushes himself into the foreground of the boy’s mind, taking control of his body and returning him to his dorm room.
He sets the boy in his futon and throws the covers over him, rolling his eyes at the way Yuuji momentarily seems to groan in his sleep. Despite the small protest, he is entirely silent. For once, Sukuna mourns the silence in his own mind. He’s grown so accustomed to two voices in his mind that he hadn’t fathomed the loss of one. Sukuna knows Yuuji will wake in a few hours, but he’s impatient enough to pace around his domain in an ill-concealed attempt to remain calm. It doesn’t work, of course. The moment Yuuji wakes the next morning, Sukuna flits about the edges of his mind, insulting and mocking him until he responds.
“You seem to be doing better,” the school counselor says at his mandatory appointment. Yuuji just raises an eyebrow at this. He supposes he has been doing better. It’s easier for him to enjoy the warm sunlight filtering through the trees in the afternoon, easier for him to brush Sukuna’s thoughts aside when he needs to focus. He’s progressing in his training. The prospect of eating breakfast no longer makes him sick to his stomach. Yuuji shrugs at the counselor, not quite trusting himself to respond.
“Well, whatever you’re doing is working,” the woman shrugs, a small smile on her face. Yuuji frowns at this. He hasn’t been doing much of anything, unless falling for Sukuna’s verbal taunts counts as something. For a moment, he contemplates telling the counselor. It would be rather hilarious to see her reaction, as he speaks of a murderous wraith inhabiting his body and interacting with him, joking with him. He doesn’t say anything, instead musing on the past few days.
Ever since the incident, as Yuuji has dubbed it, his sleep has been rather uninterrupted. There are still nights when he lies awake, but Sukuna’s voice is softer in volume and more relaxed when it fills the air. Instead of mocking him, Sukuna slowly lulls him to sleep with stories of another time. Yuuji begins to realize that Sukuna’s presence isn’t annoying. In fact, he finds himself getting used to the King of Curses’s mockery. During training yesterday, Yuuji ended up huffing out a laugh at one of Sukuna’s sarcastic remarks. Unfortunately, Gojo didn’t take too kindly to the interruption and Yuuji ended up sprawled on the ground. Sukuna’s laughter didn’t leave his mind for hours.
Nobara and Megumi notice his shift in mood too. Yuuji finds himself surrounded by them much more often. The two often talk about the weirdest things, but he manages to chime in with his own thoughts whenever possible. Sometimes, Sukuna’s own thoughts tingle in the back of his mind, but Yuuji pretends not to notice. The King of Curses already demands most, if not all, of his attention. His friends deserve attention too.
Nobara, Megumi and Yuuji are weary and exhausted after a mission, a few hours after his appointment with the school counselor, when Yuuji suggests they stop for dinner on the way back. Immediately, Nobara’s face lights up and Megumi stands up a little straighter. Yuuji rolls his eyes fondly and corrals them into a restaurant down the street from their assignment.
“How’s Sukuna?” Nobara asks once they get settled at their table and immediately Yuuji wishes she weren’t so observant. Her eyes are fixed on him, but there’s an understanding smile on her face—as if she knows what his answer will be. Yuuji is not sure what to think of that. Sukuna does seem to know what to think about that, however, as a thrill shoots down Yuuji’s spine. Satisfaction that isn’t his leaks through the haze in his mind, overshadowing his own embarrassment.
“He’s good,” Yuuji remarks hesitantly, taking a sip of his water. It’s strange to say, but it’s entirely true. Sukuna’s outbursts of emotion aren’t physically taxing anymore. The King of Curses doesn’t rip him from sleep. He doesn’t purposefully trip him as he walks up the stairs. In fact, Yuuji would almost say that Sukuna’s company is pleasant.
“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Nobara rolls her eyes, a mischievous smirk on her face. Yuuji feels his cheeks flush pink and he turns to look at Megumi pleadingly. Megumi just shrugs, entirely unbothered save for the amused curve to his lips. The scratch on Yuuji’s face tingles, but it’s not an unwelcome sensation.
“I hate you both,” he remarks moodily, crossing his arms and sitting back in the booth. He manages to brood in his immature frustration for all of thirty seconds, only because Nobara soon launches into a humorous story about Gojo-sensei’s penchant for causing trouble around the school, which makes Yuuji spit water out of his mouth. Nobara laughs so hard that she gets a cramp in her side and Megumi stares at the both of them like they’ve lost their minds. Still, it’s a welcome distraction from the intense missions they’ve undertaken in the past few weeks.
Most of the remaining hours of the day pass without incident. Unfortunately, just as Yuuji settles into his futon and closes his eyes, he realizes that he can’t sleep. Nobara’s teasing words keep echoing in his head and he’s sure Sukuna can sense his confusion too. The King of Curses’s thoughts become more prominent, leaking into his own and marring them until they’re a tangled mess. The jumbled swarm lingers heavily in Yuuji’s mind, until he can’t help but blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“What are we?” For a painful moment, the only thing he can hear is the wind outside his window and the occasional remark from one of the students downstairs. There’s a lump in his throat and a pit settling at the bottom of his stomach.
“Brat,” Sukuna huffs. Yuuji can’t see him, but he imagines he is rolling his eyes. He wants to regret the question, but he can’t. Yuuji wants to know the answer. He finds that he doesn’t quite care if he’s humiliated in the process. Besides, Sukuna has seen Yuuji humiliated many times—sometimes even at his own hand—so it’s not necessarily anything new. He contemplates this for a moment before realizing something. Sukuna is avoiding the question. Yuuji wants to press the issue further but it seems the King of Curses doesn’t want to talk about it. A few months ago, he would’ve jumped at the chance to make Sukuna uncomfortable. Now, he can’t exactly say the same.
“Does it matter?” Sukuna hisses. The statement is posed like a question, but Yuuji knows it isn’t. It isn’t exactly an order, either. The statement is more of a declaration, an affirmation of a thought that he knows to be true but hasn’t been able to accept.
“No, I guess it doesn’t,” Yuuji acquiesces, staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts are still very loud. He wonders if he will be able to sleep at all tonight. Shaking his head, Yuuji turns his head to the side and looks out the window. Stars blink and wink in the midnight sky. The trees rustle lightly in the wind, sending a soft breeze through the stagnant air of his room. Yuuji allows himself a moment to simply breathe. He sinks back into his mattress and closes his eyes. Just before he slips off into slumber, he feels a phantom touch rifle through his hair. Before he can think about this, Sukuna’s voice fills his ears once more, lulling him into a deep and uninterrupted sleep.