Work Text:
Silence has never been something Sukuna has grown accustomed to. After spending several years in the military, he’d gotten used to the sounds of the jungle–swaying trees and birds calling from the canopy–then the ocean with crashing waves, a rocking ship, and explosives.
Now, retired from the military and living in his own apartment, silence is not as luxurious as everyone made it out to be.
It made all the unwanted thoughts so much louder in his head.
He spent most mornings like this—staring at the peeling paint on his ceiling, listening to the hum of the refrigerator, and feeling the dull ache in his leg. The injury had healed, but the pain lingered, a constant reminder of the life he’d left behind. Of the mission gone wrong. Of the lives he couldn’t save.
Sukuna ran a hand over his face, his fingers grazing the scar that cut across his left eye. He was lucky, they’d said. Lucky to be alive, lucky to still have his sight.
He'd never been all that lucky.
With a grunt, he forced himself out of bed, his leg protesting as he put weight on it. The limp was worse in the mornings, the stiffness refusing to fade until he moved around for a while. He’d learned to grit his teeth and bear it, the pain a familiar companion.
Coffee helped. The bitter taste was grounding, the warmth chasing away the cold that seemed to have settled into his bones since he came back.
His apartment was small, barely furnished, and devoid of any real personality. Just a couch, a coffee table, a bed, and a kitchen that was more for show than function. There were no pictures, no decorations—nothing to remind him of who he used to be.
He wasn’t sure who that was anymore.
His mornings were routine, predictable. Shower, get dressed, drink coffee, sit on the couch and stare at the clock until it was late enough to justify leaving the apartment. He’d take a walk around the neighborhood, force himself to interact with people, to remember what normal was supposed to feel like.
He’d met a few of his neighbors that way. The old lady down the hall who always smelled like lavender and complained about her cats. The couple who argued every Saturday morning. And then there was Fushiguro Megumi.
The first time he saw him, Sukuna almost did a double take. Megumi was beautiful—there was no other word for it. Messy black hair that fell into his green doe eyes, delicate features that would’ve looked out of place on anyone else but somehow suited him perfectly.
He was younger, mid-twenties maybe, and had this quiet, thoughtful air about him that made Sukuna’s chest tighten for reasons he didn’t want to analyze.
They’d exchanged pleasantries at first—polite nods, the occasional “good morning” when they passed each other in the hallway. But then Megumi's eyes started lingering just a second too long, his lips curving into a shy smile whenever Sukuna acknowledged him.
He found himself looking forward to those moments, his morning walks timed just right to catch Megumi on his way to work. Sukuna learned that Megumi was a nurse, working long hours at the local hospital. It explained the exhaustion that sometimes darkened his eyes.
One morning, Sukuna held the elevator door open for him, and Megumi’s smile was so genuine, that Sukuna felt something in his chest crack open. They rode the elevator down in comfortable silence, standing just close enough for Sukuna to catch the faint scent of Megumi’s cologne—clean, subtle, intoxicating.
Megumi had thanked him as they parted ways, his voice soft and warm before he walked away. Sukuna stood there for a minute, his heart pounding for the first time in longer than he cared to admit.
It was ridiculous, he knew. Megumi was young, beautiful, full of life. And Sukuna was… broken. Scarred. Old.
But that didn’t stop his mind from spinning every time Megumi smiled at him. Didn’t stop the warmth that spread through him whenever they exchanged a few words.
He’d tried to ignore it, to remind himself that he didn’t deserve that kind of happiness.
But it was getting harder and harder to pretend he didn’t care.
For the most part, Sukuna tried to mind his business when it came to his neighbors. He learned long ago what happens when you stick your damn nose where it doesn’t belong.
There were several scars on his body to prove it.
But when he heard Megumi’s frustrated voice muffled in the hallway outside his apartment, well, Sukuna suddenly didn't give a fuck about minding his business.
He lingered by the door, coffee in hand, listening as Megumi sighed heavily, voice tight with irritation while holding the hand of a young girl.
He recognized her, seeing the child accompanying Megumi sometimes, visiting his apartment every few weeks or so.
Briefly he’d wondered if the kid was Megumi’s based on how close they seemed to be until he heard the girl address Megumi as “Gumi-nii” and figured she was probably a sibling instead.
Sukuna pretended that he wasn't relieved at the fact.
“I understand, but I can’t just leave her alone,” Megumi said into the phone, sounding bordering on desperate. “There has to be someone else who can cover—” He was cut off, and Sukuna could hear the exasperated muttering that followed before Megumi huffed out a resigned, “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”
The call ended with a scowl. Sukuna took that as his cue and stepped out, catching Megumi’s weary gaze.
“Morning, Ryomen-san.” Megumi’s smile was small, forced, and exhausted. He adjusted his grip on the little girl’s hand before offering a polite nod. “Hana and I apologize for the noise.”
Sukuna’s eyes flicked to the girl—Hana. She was small, barely reaching Megumi’s waist, with wild white hair and striking blue eyes that peered up at him curiously.
“Tch.” Sukuna waved off the apology. “What’s the problem?”
Megumi hesitated for only a second before exhaling. “I was supposed to be working evenings only while my older sister took the morning shifts to watch Hana, but my job just called me in. They’re short-staffed, and I either come in or risk losing my position.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t have anyone to watch her on such short notice.”
Sukuna wasn’t sure what possessed him to speak next. Maybe it was the way Megumi looked like he was about to collapse from stress. Maybe it was the way Hana clung to his hand, silent but watching. Or maybe, for some goddamn reason, Sukuna was getting too soft for his own good.
“I’ll watch her.”
Megumi’s head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. “What?”
He shrugged, leaning against his door frame. “I’m free. Might as well make myself useful.”
Megumi’s mouth opened, then closed. He looked between Sukuna and Hana, clearly torn. “I couldn’t possibly—”
“What’s the alternative?” The older man cut in, arching a brow. “Calling out and losing your job?”
Megumi frowned. “I—You don’t have experience with kids, do you?”
Sukuna smirked. “That obvious?”
Letting out a soft laugh despite himself, Megumi shook his head. “Yeah. Very.”
But he was still considering it.
Sukuna could see the internal debate written all over his face. Megumi didn’t want to be a burden, but he also didn’t have many choices.
Hana, surprisingly, made the decision for him. She pursed her lips and then looked up at Sukuna, head tilting. “You’re scary-looking,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Sukuna blinked before snorting. “And you’re blunt as hell, kid.”
Megumi let out a mortified groan. “Hana—”
But she was undeterred. “You have red eyes like a villain.”
“Yep.” Sukuna’s grin was wicked and sharp. “And a scar like one, too.”
Hana nodded, considering. “Are you gonna kidnap me?”
“Hana!” Megumi hissed, face burning with embarrassment.
Sukuna laughed. “Nah, kid. I don’t do free labor.”
Hana’s eyes squinted at him before she finally said, “Okay. You can babysit me.”
Smirking, Sukuna crossed his arms. “Well, look at that. The princess has spoken.”
Megumi sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine…I guess you can watch her.”
But when he looked up at the older man, there was relief, gratitude, and something else Sukuna wasn’t sure how to name in his gaze.
“Thank you, Ryomen-san.”
Sukuna felt his stomach twist at the soft way Megumi said his name.. He covered it up with a gruff clearing of his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t blame me if she starts cursing like a sailor.”
Megumi shook his head, exasperated but smiling, and Sukuna realized something dangerous.
He really liked that smile.
Sukuna sat back in his chair and watched Hana eat away at the rice and fish he managed to quickly make for breakfast.
“Slow down kid, foods not going anywhere.” Sukuna grumbled as he picked at his own plate.
Hana paused before remembering her manners and began to eat slower.
The silence between them was so damn loud, Sukuna was beginning to regret offering to watch the girl. What did he know about watching kids anyway?
He blamed Megumi and his ridiculously pretty green eyes and lovely smile.
Fuck.
“So…” He trailed off. “Your name is Hana.”
Hana blinked at him in slight confusion. “Yes. Gojo Hana.”
Sukuna raised a brow. “Gojo?”
Hana nodded, swallowing a bite of rice. “Yep. Dad says he and Papa fought over my name but he ended up winning rock, paper, scissors. So, Gojo.”
Sukuna clicked his tongue. How idiotic. Letting a childish game determine their kids name. Weren't these people fashion designers? Makes sense, he supposed. Still, hearing the name Gojo made something itch at the back of his skull.
He let it go for now. “Got it.”
Hana went back to eating, and the silence stretched between them, awkward and heavy. Sukuna wasn’t good at this kind of thing—keeping a kid entertained, talking about nothing, babysitting. Hell, he barely knew how to hold a damn conversation that didn’t involve barking orders or military jargon.
His apartment didn’t help either. It was built for one, meant to be quiet, simple, and efficient. He had no toys, no books for kids, nothing remotely entertaining for a seven-year-old. The most he had was a TV, and he didn’t think Megumi would appreciate him letting his kid sister watch violent action flicks.
Hana finished eating, placing her chopsticks neatly over her plate before sitting up straight and staring at him.
He stared back.
This went on for a long, agonizing minute before Hana tilted her head. “Do you like playing imaginary games?”
Sukuna blinked. “Huh?”
“You know,” she said, swinging her legs. “Like pretend games! Where we act out stories and stuff.”
Sukuna’s first instinct was to scoff. He hadn’t played pretend since he was a brat running wild through the streets before the military whipped him into shape. But there was something about the way Hana watched him, expectant, like she was waiting for him to decide if he wanted to be a fun babysitter or a boring one.
“Tch,” Sukuna put his chopsticks down. “Depends. What kinda game are we talking about?”
Hana brightened. “You could be a villain! Since you already look like one.”
Sukuna huffed a laugh. “Of course.”
“And I’ll be the hero!” she continued, puffing her chest. “I have to defeat you and save the world!”
Sukuna arched a brow. “The world, huh? That’s a lot of responsibility for a pipsqueak.”
Hana pouted. “I’m not a pipsqueak! I’m strong.”
“Alright, strong kid. How’re you gonna beat me?”
Hana hopped off her chair, determination in her bright blue eyes. “With the power of friendship!”
Sukuna snorted. “That so?”
“Yup!” she declared. “And maybe some super cool battle moves.”
She started punching the air, making exaggerated whoosh sounds as she kicked and spun around. Sukuna watched, amused despite himself. The kid had energy, he’d give her that.
Something in his chest loosened, just a little.
This might not be so bad after all.
Somehow, they made it through the day without an incident. Hana, the ball of energy, managed to entertain herself for most of the morning and afternoon until she crashed on his couch after an intense game of heroes and villains (for the third time).
Sukuna watched her sleep half relishing the silence, half missing her bright giggles and nonstop questions.
A knock at the door had Sukuna rising from his side of the couch to answer it. On the other side stood Megumi, dressed in scrubs with a tired smile on his face. “Hello, Ryomen-san.”
Sukuna stepped aside to let him in, jerking his chin toward the couch. “She crashed about twenty minutes ago. Didn’t even make it through the last battle.”
Megumi huffed a small laugh, moving to kneel beside his sister. “That sounds about right. She’ll run herself ragged before she ever admits she’s tired.” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of white hair from her face.
Sukuna crossed his arms, watching them. “She was fine. I was worried my place wouldn’t be entertaining enough, but turns out, she can make a game out of just about anything.”
Megumi glanced up at him, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, she’s good at that. She doesn’t need much, just someone willing to play along.”
Sukuna scoffed. “Easy for you to say. I spent the whole day getting my ass kicked.”
Megumi smiled, something soft and knowing in the curve of his lips. “You survived.”
“Barely,” Sukuna grumbled, but he wasn’t really complaining.
Megumi straightened, carefully lifting Hana into his arms. She stirred for a moment before curling against his chest with a soft sigh. As he adjusted his hold, Megumi turned to Sukuna, his expression more serious now.
“Thank you,” he said, voice quieter. “I know it was last minute, and you didn’t have to, but… I really appreciate it.”
Sukuna waved him off. “It’s fine. Kid’s not so bad.”
Megumi hesitated for a second before, to Sukuna’s utter shock, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Ryomen-san.”
Sukuna felt the warmth of it long after Megumi pulled away, the faintest blush dusting his cheeks. He was too tired for this, and Sukuna wasn’t sure if he imagined the way he lingered just a second too long before stepping back.
Masking his surprise, Sukuna tilted his head with a smirk. “It’s about time you called me Sukuna, don’t you think, Fushiguro?”
Megumi rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, a small smile playing at his lips as he adjusted his hold on Hana.
“Goodnight, Sukuna.”
He turned and left, leaving Sukuna standing in his doorway, feeling something suspiciously close to fondness settle in his chest.
It was dangerous, this wanting. He had no right to it, no claim. There were too many reasons—too many cracks and broken edges in Sukuna’s life that Megumi deserved better than to be caught up in. He could list them all, recite them like a prayer, a futile attempt to keep his own desires at bay.
And yet, none of it stopped the ache in his chest. None of it dulled the longing that burned through him, the unbearable need to hold Megumi close, to trace the delicate lines of his face, to pull him in and never let go.
But wanting meant nothing. Someone like Megumi deserved the world. And Sukuna… Sukuna had nothing to give.
He didn't sleep that night.
In the morning he leaned over the counter, head in his hands as he waited for his coffee to brew.
A knock at his door had him groaning, barely lifting his head.
Too damn early for visitors.
Dragging himself upright, Sukuna shuffled to the door and swung it open, prepared to tell whoever it was to fuck off—only to find Megumi standing there, looking a little sheepish, with Hana at his side.
The words died in his throat.
Megumi smiled apologetically, shifting on his feet. “Morning, Sukuna.”
Sukuna narrowed his eyes. “...What do you want?”
Megumi exhaled, giving him a look like he already knew he was asking for too much. “I know I’m pushing my luck, but—”
“You need me to watch her again.” Sukuna finished flatly, glancing at Hana, who was clutching a small bag to her chest.
Megumi winced. “Only if you’re okay with it. My coworker had a family emergency, and they need me to cover for a few hours.”
Sukuna should say no. He should remind Megumi that he wasn’t a damn babysitter, that he wasn’t good with kids, that this was not his problem.
But then Megumi gave him another one of those apologetic little smiles, all soft and grateful and too damn tempting, and Sukuna sighed, already resigning himself to his fate.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Just get outta here before I change my mind.”
Megumi’s whole face lit up in relief. “Thank you. Again.”
Hana beamed, lifting her bag up proudly. “I brought stuff this time! So you won’t be bored!”
Sukuna arched a brow. “Bored, huh?”
Hana nodded seriously. “You didn’t have anything fun last time.”
Sukuna let out a rough laugh, stepping aside to let her in. “Fair enough.”
As she skipped past him, Megumi lingered a second longer.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “I owe you for this.”
Sukuna smirked. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Megumi rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he turned to leave. Sukuna watched him go, rubbing a hand down his face once the door shut.
He was in so much fucking trouble.
Hana has been right. Sukuna found himself less bored this time as he watched Hana color on the pages filled with unicorns and butterflies.
“For you.” Hana said, handing him one of her masterpieces. “Your fridge has no art on it so I wanted to give you some!”
Sukuna was dumbfounded as he took the paper, feeling himself warm under that bright smile. “Uh, thanks.”
Hana nodded her head and shooed him away. “Go hang it up! I'll color more for you!”
Shaking his head with a small smirk, Sukuna got up and pinned the colorful drawing to his fridge with a magnet. It was messy and vibrant, with a unicorn that had a suspiciously lopsided horn, but hell if it didn’t brighten up the otherwise bare surface.
As he turned back toward the couch, he caught Hana staring at him, her head tilted in curiosity.
“What?” he asked, raising a brow.
“You walk funny.”
Sukuna stilled for a second before huffing out a rough laugh. “Yeah, well, that happens when you get blown up a little.”
Hana’s eyes widened. “You got blown up?”
“Something like that,” Sukuna said, dropping onto the couch beside her. “I was a soldier. Fought in a war. One bad mission, and I almost lost a leg and an eye.” He tapped the scar running over his face for emphasis.
Hana studied him for a long moment before nodding, as if coming to a conclusion. “You’re like a superhero then.”
Sukuna blinked. “What?”
“You got hurt but you’re still here,” she said simply, kicking her legs against the couch. “Superheroes always get back up.”
Sukuna didn’t know what to say to that. He just sat there, momentarily speechless as warmth bloomed somewhere deep in his chest.
“Guess that makes you my sidekick then,” he muttered gruffly.
Hana grinned. “Can I be the superhero instead?”
Sukuna snorted. “Sure, kid.”
The morning passed in a blur of activity—coloring, an attempt at a puzzle that neither of them had the patience for, and another few rounds of heroes and villains (Sukuna lost again).
By the time lunch rolled around, Hana was munching happily on a grilled cheese sandwich when another knock sounded at the door.
Megumi stepped in, looking only slightly less tired than before. His eyes flicked to Hana first, checking her over out of habit before turning his attention to Sukuna.
“She behaved?”
Sukuna smirked. “Mostly.”
Hana shot him a look but said nothing as she finished her sandwich.
After a quick cleanup, they worked together to put Sukuna’s apartment back in order—not that it had been much of a mess to begin with, but Hana’s boundless energy had left a trail of crayons, toys, and snack wrappers in her wake.
As Megumi helped tuck away the last of her things, he hesitated for a second before looking at Sukuna. “I meant what I said about owing you.”
Sukuna leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Oh yeah?”
Megumi nodded, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. “Let me pay you back with dinner.”
Sukuna’s smirk widened. “Are you asking me on a date, sweetheart?”
Megumi rolled his eyes, but the pink on his cheeks deepened. “Depends. Will you agree if I say it was?”
He should say no. It was reckless—an undeniably terrible idea, the kind that could only lead to trouble. The worst decision he could ever let himself fall into.
But…
Maybe it was time Sukuna tried to let himself have something good for once.
“Damn right I will.”
Then, there’s that smile. That beautiful, perfect, heartbreaking smile. “It's a date then.”