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    Summary

    “He already has a date.”

    The satyr twisted his head around fast enough that there was a real concern for whiplash and Yuuji’s stuttering words died in his mouth. Sukuna gazed down at the two of them, impassive. Yuuji turned a deeper shade of red and the satyr gazed skyward, his mouth dropped open in surprise. Sukuna towered over them menacingly, though it was unintentional. It was hard to not be menacing when he stood nearly nine feet tall with a twenty-four-foot long tail coiled beneath him. Though he’d traded his battle armor for a business suit, it still gave him a commanding air. It was out of memory for humans and plenty of non-humans and creatures, but the stories of the Mariliths - the six-armed demon warriors of the Abyss - still persisted, even in modern times. And there was no mistaking Sukuna for anything else other than what he was.

    “Wha-what?” The satyr swallowed hard enough that Sukuna could hear his throat click.

    “He already has a date. With me. Tonight. Find another barista to harass.” 

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