Work Text:
Sukuna sat on a wooden stool Uraume had built for him a few years prior. He could hear through the open window the sound of the crackling fire in the hearth outside. He would check on it in half an hour, add a log if necessary, and make sure the ashes did not spill over the stone edge.
For now, he simply sat inside the hut, having abandoned his current project. He had planned on carving names in their knives handles, but he’d been distracted by the sight of the white-haired young man sleeping on the mattress a few metres from him, and now he didn’t feel like working anymore.
Instead, he’d settled for watching the sleeping form, content in being able to do so without being caught by either of the hut’s inhabitants.
If Satoru caught him watching, Sukuna was sure he’d never hear the end of it. The younger man would bat his eyelashes at him and tease him in a honeyed voice he knew got on Sukuna’s nerves.
Sukuna was not ashamed of his feelings for the white-haired man, and did not downplay them, but he simply did not like to see Satoru smug. He could be infuriating when he was like that. However, Sukuna did not envision his night to go this way, and he was confident in keeping it like this.
The night was still far away from setting, and he’d started the fire earlier than he’d usually do, but he knew the crackling of burning dead twigs helped Satoru fall asleep. If it could make the bags under his eyes soothe, Sukuna did not mind using a little bit more wood than necessary. He could still bring new logs with Uraume when they’d run out of it.
Satoru always struggled to fall asleep more when summer came to an end, the transition between seasons harsh on him, bringing back bad memories Sukuna had little weapons to keep at bay. In times like these, he let Satoru do as he pleased more than usual, which was pretty telling considering the amount of things Sukuna usually conceded to the younger man. Uraume’s sighs a soundtrack in their everyday lives whenever the end of august rolled around.
It made Sukuna and Satoru laugh, not even needing to watch Uraume’s face to know they were rolling their eyes. It riled them both up, too, and made Sukuna want to trick Uraume despite his servant’s disposition to grow irritated quickly.
Sukuna knew his servant didn’t mind it that much, though. It was obvious simply with the fact that they tolerated Satoru’s presence, and followed his requests whenever Uraume deemed them feasible.
Sukuna remembered how it had not always been the case, Uraume and Satoru’s adjustment to the other’s presence a tedious process.
They’d all come far from their first meeting.
Bearer of the Six Eyes, the symbol of purity in the Gojo Clan, and a symbol of fruitfulness for the village, Satoru had been deemed destined for too many great things ever since his very birth. It led, unsurprisingly to an accumulation of pressure on his shoulders only his best friend could alleviate. Harassed by the villagers, abused by his clan members for the lack of good fortune as of yet, and shunned by ignorants, Satoru had harboured ever since childhood the dangerous dream of getting free and seeing the village burn.
And then, one day, Satoru’s only friend had died, untended to by the villagers despite his growing illness, Satoru kept at bay by fear of the disease contaminating him. Satoru had been heartbroken.
He had remained mute for a few days, unable to act upon his dream until he could bid farewell to his friend, and after watching the boy refuse to eat anything for days, his family had yielded to his demand, and allowed Satoru to see Suguru’s body before his burial.
Brushing dark strands of hair from his friend’s face, in the house on the outskirts of the village, Satoru took his decision then. He’d burn the village down.
He had been utterly baffled at the sight he’d found upon his return from the short walk separating Suguru’s house from the others, the village already in flames.
___•♦•___
From the centre of the village, Sukuna watched, bemused, as this lunatic marched towards him with crazed eyes and hurried steps.
'How dare you!' The stranger screamed, pointing an accusing finger at Sukuna.
Bracing himself for tears, pleas, and calls for mercy, Sukuna sighed, about to cut the loud nuisance in two.
'How dare you wreak bloody havoc in the village before me?! I’ve been waiting for years to burn this place down, and the moment I actually decide to do so, you-' he wiggled his index in Sukuna’s direction, walking dangerously close to him, not even seeming to realise that he should be afraid. 'YOU decide that this is yours to destroy, and yours to burn?!' He exclaimed even louder.
His words made Sukuna pause, upper arms ready to strike, lowers arms hanging, dripping with blood. 'What?' He asked.
'Yes, you heard me! I was going to kill them all, but you’ve stolen this for me!' The white-haired man kept on screaming 'I’ve been thinking about this for ages, it’s–' his voice cracked, then, a clear sign of desperation and helplessness. 'It’s all I had left. The only thing I had promised him to do, and now I can’t even do it anymore because you’ve already killed them all.'
His last words came in a whisper, and for a moment, Sukuna thought he would cry. The younger man did not. Instead, he let out a frustrated cry, throwing his head back as he turned around to look at the burning huts.
The floating ashes and the ambient heat did not seem to bother him as he paced into the beaten earth path. Sukuna followed him wordlessly into the still steaming embers, their walk accompanied by the sound of beams bending under the heat and cracking and collapsing onto piles of burning belongings.
'I can’t believe it,' the young man kept talking, 'I had one wish and now it’s GONE.' He stopped unexpectedly, sharply turning on his heels and walking in Sukuna’s direction again, no fear in his oddly blue eyes. It was the first time someone stepped so close to Sukuna and got away with it. Twice.
The young man was brazen, seemingly driven by grief and anger Sukuna sensed did not stem from him. Somehow, his recklessness and blatant affront picked Sukuna’s interest.
It compelled him to talk. 'Had I known another soul wished calamity upon this village, I would have found another target.'
'Well it’s too late now, isn’t it?!' The white-haired man exclaimed. 'And who are you, even?' He asked.
Sukuna considered not telling him. After all, he did not need to justify himself or his actions. Despite it, he gave his name to the stranger. 'I am Ryoumen Sukuna, walking calamity, and the King of Curses himself.' Sukuna introduced himself.
'Well, King of Curses, what do you intend on doing, now that you’ve stolen my right to destroy this village?' The strange young man asked.
Sukuna looked at him, wondering how this human could be so fearless in front of him, even after having learned about Sukuna’s identity. 'What is your name, young soul?'
The other one looked at him defiantly, chin high as he answered 'Gojo Satoru.' He stated.
'Alright, Gojo Satoru. I have no apologies to give you, however, I feel benevolent, and agree to grant you one request. Ask, and I shall oblige.' Sukuna offered, feeling generous on this odd day.
The young man, Gojo, did not even try to renegotiate his offer, and answered instead, with a nonchalance that surprised Sukuna. 'A taste of the most renowned sweets of the entire country.'
'What?' Sukuna asked, thinking he’d heard things wrong.
'Well, I have quite the sweet tooth, you see, but I’ve never left the village before, so I wouldn’t know where to start.' Gojo explained, anger slowly draining from his body as he talked.
'Sweets? Is that what you want, Gojo Satoru?' Sukuna asked.
'Yeah, the best you could find in the country, preferably.'
For some reason, Sukuna heard himself agree before he could fully think things through. He’d asked Gojo, after all. He could already feel Uraume’s disapproving stare from behind him, but it seemed that it was already too late, and Sukuna had taken his decision.
'Are you certain you want to leave this place?' Uraume asked from behind their master.
Gojo nodded, 'Nothing holds me back here.' he said, eyes fixed on the house where Suguru’s body rested. The only remaining house in the village.
___•♦•___
Sukuna was not a man of promises, the instances he’d made such offers countable on the fingers of one hand, which was why he also did not back away from one once it was offered.
Gojo accompanied him and Uraume through their journey, tasting the sweets available whenever they came across an interesting city, and remaining silent as Sukuna wreak havoc in other villages.
Sukuna was surprised by the young man’s compliance, not having expected him to stay put when Sukuna did as pleased, and yet. Sukuna soon enough found himself enjoying his time spent in the other’s company.
Gojo’s journey at their side was meant to be temporary, but it stretched for an indeterminate period of time, until none of the three men thought about the fact that there had been a time where they had been supposed to part ways.
Uraume even grew used to the younger man’s presence, and came to tolerate his chatter on their best days.
Gojo turned into Satoru, and his relationship with Sukuna developed into something more, both men falling in love, to Uraume’s dismay.
The trips turned fewer, and whenever they settled down somewhere, it was for longer periods of time.
Sukuna, seemingly satisfied with his misdeeds, deemed their settling down as a correct development, and decided they would remain in the area they found themselves in at the time, until he, or Satoru, would get bored.
Sukuna was taken out of his thoughts by Satoru stirring. He wasn’t quite awake yet, but Sukuna knew it meant that he didn’t need to be as silent as when the younger man was fast asleep and not fully rested.
Slowly, he settled his tools on the table and stood up, pushing the hut’s door open and leaving it ajar.
He walked to the bonfire, throwing in a few logs to keep it burning, and sat on a stone nearby, eyes on the hut.
There was a roe deer’s skull sitting on a beam right above the entrance, courtesy of both Sukuna and Uraume. Sukuna had been the one to find the roe’s decomposing carcass lying in a meadow during one of his strolls, and had brought the poor animal’s head back to their shared house. Uraume had cleaned the skin and tissues off, and when faced with Satoru’s utter disgust at the sight of the bright white skull, had decided they’d hang it right over the door, proclaiming it might possibly, finally, ward off 'intruders' he’d said, pointedly looking at Satoru as he’d said it.
Sukuna remembered laughing loudly at Satoru’s outraged face that day, and agreeing with Uraume that Satoru’s reaction at the sight was too funny and enjoyable to miss out, and the skull had remained here since there. Sukuna was sure that, should they move away one day, the item would accompany them.
Satoru appeared from the doorway, walking on the grass barefoot to join him.
'The fire is loud.' Satoru complained.
'Shall I put it out for now? ' Sukuna asked, opening his arms to let Satoru sit against his chest, the younger man seeking to shield himself from the heat with Sukuna’s arms.
'No. It reminds me of our first meeting.' Satoru mused.
Sukuna hummed. 'It was not a fire of the same extent, though.'
'I don’t mind it. Every fire reminds me of you.' Satoru said. He knew it would please Sukuna.
He was right, as Sukuna countered, always one for grandeur. 'You’d deserve a much larger fire.'
'Would I, now?' Satoru asked, eyes fixed on the bonfire.
'Yes,' Sukuna answered, lips brushing the top of Satoru’s head. 'Even a thousand burned down villages would not be a fire big enough for you, my love.'
Satoru smiled. He had no doubt Sukuna would put the entire world to fire and the sword if Satoru ever asked him to.
'I think I’m content with this one already, Sukuna.' he whispered, resting his head against Sukuna’s collarbone.