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Summary
Sukuna and Satoru hate each other, until they don’t.
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”Just say you’re jealous of my generational wealth, brokie.”
“Generational wealth?” Sukuna tilted his chin. “Let me know when your money finally buys you a personality. Or some fucking hairdye.”
Satoru was about to commit violence.
“That’s thick coming from you with your faggoty piercings and shoddy tattoos. Shit, did you let someone hit it to get them done in juvie?”
