Work Text:
Sukuna holds his position and distance; his flamebow ceases at his pause. Snow fizzles against his feet as he warily steps close to the unknown until he sees a trembling wounded fawn. Mistaken for a pile of snow and its strange, oddly bold coloring. Everyone wasn’t certain about its identity.
“My Lord!”
The pack fought in urgency through the thickness of the snow just to get to their little Lord. One thing draws Sukuna immediately to the creature is the position of its scar, mirroring his own.
At a young age, Sukuna understood the feeling of being different from others. As much as he’s delighted to take care of it, he hid his face as other members of the pack followed him – he didn’t want to display enthusiasm but his excitement brought colors to his cheeks.
He names his fawn Uraume and vows to the gods to keep it safe.
—
Sukuna knows he’ll be the king of the clan soon, and kings should be brave. In times when he's uneasy especially in strange and new settings, he mimics his mother’s unfazed, intimidating, expression. It just really seemed effective and he feels like a grown-up already.
He also clutches behind his mother’s kimono to comfort himself.
They are down from the mountains already. There are warm lanterns above, tables of feasts at the side, families from their own clans, and kids at Sukuna’s age with their deer by their side.
Sukuna dusts off the dried small petals of his fawn’s head, flashing her a small warm reassuring smile.
“Mother said you’ll get treats here.” He scrapes his nails softly against the fawn’s scar. It has healed already unlike the first day they met. “And I’ll make sure you’ll get a lot.”
With determination, he tugs gently onto the fawn’s collar made out of crimson rope. The little Lord is too innocent, too naïve to care that the stares he was getting along the way has a weight in it.
He falls in line along with other kids, down on one knee and his head bowed low. The tug on Uraume’s rope makes her bow too.
Then the ceremony begins.
People are supposed to walk the path where the kids are at, give them biscuits. Some are stamped with the clan’s symbols, made from home, or infused with herbs. The biscuits are more than itself as it also symbolizes the child being seen.
Recognition. Validation.
Once a kid is given a biscuit, the giver shares responsibility for the deer’s fate for the year. If harm befalls the deer, the gods remember who acknowledged it.
Fallen petals whisper beneath their shoes, and a cool breeze slips through the clearing – colder than it should be for spring. Despite the impediment to Sukuna’s vision, his senses had sharpened because of it – and he knew very well that the kids beside him were being given biscuits.
Except them.
But nothing can break his determination. Coming down from the mountains is great courage already and it will not stop there.
So, Sukuna ignores all of it and stops the sizzling envy in his chest. All he can see are scattered petals and thin fallen twigs when he bows lower, humbing himself further, their pale colors blurring together. The gesture affects his tug on Uraume’s collar, just a little.
Just to ground himself that he’s not alone. Uraume’s not alone.
They’re here together.
Though he’ll admit, he feels like he’ll drop a tear if he blinks, especially now that Uraume’s bumping her head softly against Sukuna’s rose-tinted hair. Her ears lay back in defeat. It’s the fawn’s gesture when she’s anxious.
Despite all of that, Sukuna musters up a small encouraging smile. A king should put up bravery despite it.
“It’s my scar they don’t like. But look, I’m not scared, so you shouldn’t be either.”
It takes a little while before Uraume finally parted herself from nuzzling Sukuna. Sukuna figures they can still hold this position until the ceremony ends. What matters is they showed up.
Besides, he doesn't need this kind of recognition if he’ll be the clan head after his mother.
His mother said below the mountains will be warm, but everything and everyone was colder than above.
He’s never coming back to this place ever again.
Never. Again.
It's too humiliating.
He should've known better. An odd-looking kid like him would never be reciprocated with care and recognition.
Sukuna just wants to run to his mother’s arms, cry, and go home. He knew people would be mean to him but not to such an extent.
Then.
It's like a sun seeping through the soft cracks of a cloudy day. Sukuna hears a bite. A crunch. A bow. Not just once, but twice. One that he wouldn’t hear if he didn’t hold his breath before he could even sob.
A boy who is taller, older than Sukuna and has hair pure white as driven snow. With bright eyes and vivid in blue like his floral kimono, reciprocating a bow to both of them.
“Here’s one for you!”
—
Lanterns flicker against the encroaching twilight, the last light of day draining slowly from the mountains. Drawn by the tune of the horns, the deer gather at the center of the grounds, lingering until the last note swallowed by the breeze.
Sukuna watches in content and triumph. Not too proud. He thinks modesty is just as important as courage. When Sukuna returns to his mother with his fawn, she has a smile on her lips.
She, of course, witnessed it all.
“Great job out there, my little Lord.”
Of course he did.
“We only had one biscuit, mother.”
“More than enough,” Honoka stops her child right away. “I hope you thanked him.”
Sukuna’s brows furrows too deep for his age. Vivid bright blue eyes flashed in his mind again and suddenly, the night’s breeze isn’t cold anymore. His cheeks feel warmer than the tips of his fingers whenever he aims his flamebow.
What he recalls along with it is his mother’s stories during bedtime. The closest thing to describe the older boy was an angel. His hair wasn’t just snow or a dandelion in spring.
They glow like a halo.
“That’s what angels do. They were just being nice to us.” Sukuna mumbles.
Honoka smiles at her child’s words.
She’s happy there’s still youth in Sukuna’s heart.
“Itadori-san, would you accompany my child to thank this angel?”
—
They found the angel by the stream. If it was winter, Sukuna could’ve mistaken him as a snow leopard in disguise if it weren’t for his white and blue floral kimono. Itadori and he plucked a red camellia along the way.
Itadori bumps him causing Sukuna to tumble forward.
“I’ll leave you two then.”
Sukuna grumbles.
The noise from the two makes the white-haired boy stand from the stream but upon noticing Sukuna, who remained still from where he was standing, the older boy smiled. White lashes kissing his cheeks.
“I know you,” The boy hums when he steps closer to Sukuna. He’s about two heads taller than the little Lord. “I heard things about your clan and your flamebows. It’s really nice to see a new face here, you know? That’s why I gave you my clan’s biscuit!”
Sukuna shyly avoids eye contact no matter how cheerful or warm the older one was.
The thing is… Sukuna didn’t have any friends at his age or close to his age. He just played with Itadori who’s about two decades old already, so there’s not much to talk about. Except, Itadori really feels childish for his age…
“You’re not much of a talker, aren’t you?”
Well. Sukuna never had anyone greet him with such… warmth. He didn’t know what to respond.
“Is that for me?”
The little Lord glances down at the red camellia and nods, then pushes the flower forward.
When all four eyes of the little Lord met the older’s eyes, he’s mesmerized. It’s like that moment when he tried staring back at the sun without glinting too much – but this time, it felt so easy to stare at the other’s blue eyes. Then, they glint into moon crescent shapes.
Sukuna huffs away immediately. He didn’t like the strange feeling in his chest.
“Thank you! They’re really nice.” He smiles as he takes the flower into his chest. “I’m Gojo Satoru, by the way! You know, no one really gave me flowers. You’re the first one ever!”
Somehow, Sukuna feels pride in that. A King should always be the first in everything, after all.
“My name is Ryomen Sukuna.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sukuna.”
Sukuna has never been called by his first name aside from his mother. So, his eyes shot up at him to which he’s greeted with Satoru giggling at him.
“Do you wanna come with me and look at the stream?”
Sukuna follows right after. They both crouched down at the grass and Sukuna starts to wonder what he should be looking at.
He decides to watch Satoru instead. Sukuna's vision traces every features on Satoru's face; his long white lashes, his pouting pink lips, and the apple of his cheeks squished as his chin rests over his hands on his knees with a smile staring at the stream with a happy hum
“This is the closest I can get to the sea, you know? I never really have the chance to get out, especially when the festival’s over. So, I listen to the stream and watch it. Do you think I’m weird?”
Sukuna’s brows furrow. “I don’t think so, but what do you do with seas?”
Satoru giggles. “I heard lots of things. You swim, play with sand, and eat fish.”
“You like fish?”
“Mm!”
Sukuna takes a mental note of that. “...I know how to hunt.”
“I know you can.” Satoru smiles with his finger softly swirling at the surface of the stream. “You seem really strong.”
“I am strong.” Sukuna smugs. “And I have a lot of curse techniques.”
“The flamebow and… what are the others?”
Suddenly, the little Lord hesitates. He hasn't mastered his cursed techniques to show them off now. “I–I’m still practicing!”
Satoru chuckles.
“How about you?” Sukuna asks because he figures that since Satoru is older, he should have a lot of cursed techniques by now. Mastered them even. But then again… Satoru’s face seems… out of this world? Does he even have one? Or better yet—
“Are you an angel?”
Satoru raises his chin from his hands and blinks back at him. “What?”
“An angel.” Sukuna repeats. “Mother used to tell me that angels are godly and the most beautiful out of this world creatures. They live up in the clouds and they’re nice to kids who are behaved and good.” Sukuna said. He wouldn’t be surprised if Satoru is one. Besides, miracles seem to occur to Sukuna when he’s doing something good.
Take for example, he found his fawn the day he mastered his flamebow. Of course, from his everyday practice and determination.
“I–” Satoru blinks more while his cheeks are slowly having the same color as Sukuna's hair. “Am I an angel…” He repeats in a whisper to himself.
Sukuna purses his lips, noticing the older’s pause. He sees it as hesitation but to Satoru – he’s just processing the words. “That’s okay if you won’t admit it. It can be our secret.”
Taken aback, Satoru still laughs. “I didn’t know you could be this funny, little guy.” He stands up and dries his hands off his kimono with tiny pats. His head shots up as they both hear a woman calling the angel’s name.
“I better get going, Sukuna! It’s getting late, anyway.” Satoru smiles, stepping backward and away from Sukuna. Sukuna looks up at him in a slight frown when Satoru stops from his tracks to run towards him for the last time.
“I want to see you again and play with you. In the morning, I think! We can skip stones or catch fish so you can show me your hunting skills.”
Sukuna blinks.
“That’s all! See you!”
—
Sukuna is a bit late to come to the stream because his fawn refuses to eat if he’s not the one feeding her. It also took some time to convince his mother that he must go alone and he doesn’t need Itadori to come with him just to tease him that it's a date.
The little Lord doesn't know it anyway but the way Itadori teases him pisses him off.
To Sukuna's dismay, Itadori still came with him for the sake of reassuring his mother that he’ll be safe. They picked up forget-me-nots from the mountains before going down just because Itadori told him that angels like flowers…
…Which is odd and new to Sukuna’s ears because mother didn’t mention anything about flowers in her angel stories.
Sukuna makes sure that Itadori is ten trees away from them before handing the flowers to Satoru. “Flowers from the mountain.”
“For… me?”
Sukuna nods, then he steps away, oblivious to Satoru’s pink cheeks when he crouches down, face near the stream. “Let’s catch some fish.”
“But I don’t know how to catch a fish.” Satoru pouts as he slips Sukuna’s flowers into his kimono’s belt.
“I’ll try.” Sukuna says and stands from crouching, aiming his flamebow with determination and letting it go for it to watch get extinguished by the stream.
Satoru gasps and laughs at it. “Oh no!”
Sukuna frowns at it and aims for another. This time, he’s eyeing swimming fish underneath the stream before letting it go for it to fall at the same fate as the first one.
Satoru tries hard to muffle a giggle.
To which Sukuna’s frown turns deeper. He doesn’t understand. He never misses at all and flamebows should surpass any elements.
As Satoru’s muffles are finally contained, he decides to lift his kimono and step into the stream. His feet submerge in the shallow waters, causing him to shiver. “Let’s try catching some with bare hands!”
Sukuna huffs to himself. He’s a very good hunter and he can’t believe he lost to a fish, but he follows right away. He has four hands – for sure he’ll get the first catch quickly.
He has to catch a lot all by himself because angels shouldn’t be messing around and do the dirty work. Angels are behaved but Satoru seems a different one.
All Satoru did was to hold them in his improvised basket using his kimono. It’s hard not to get wet in this task so, both of them are wet from catching fishes.
Doing his best to be a great assistant, Satoru giggles when he feels the fish flap against him. “Sukuna! I can’t hold them anymore!”
That’s when Sukuna’s truest hunter nature comes out. He makes an improvised wood knife to stab the fish together then forms a fire on his hand to instantly cook. Using cleave to make slits on the fish to cook them faster.
Satoru takes a banana leaf as a plate and they eat beside the stream.
Noticing that the older one doesn't know how to eat fish, Sukuna helps to separate the meat from the bones. Satoru purses his lips as he watches the little Lord lead their meal.
“Your cursed technique is so useful, Sukuna. Next time, we should build a small house here very soon so we won’t get wet. April showers happen randomly.”
While Satoru picks up the meat of the fish, Sukuna stares at him in thought.
There is… next time?
—
When they met again, Sukuna gave Satoru a lavender.
There’s motivation for Sukuna to go down to the stream for Satoru and to go back up to the mountains for his fawn. He’d leave the mountains sulking – at the fact that Mother won’t let him travel to the stream alone but he’d come back with the biggest smile, puffing his cheeks up, telling his day to his mother with enthusiasm.
Either way, Honoka is truly happy that her child is making a new friend.
When Satoru and Sukuna met again, they made a house made out of large taro leaves and bamboo. Most of the labor comes from Sukuna as Satoru’s contribution mainly is based on his height; picking up high firm branches, plucking leaves, and tying the bamboo foundation together with plant fibers.
The fibers start to hurt Satoru’s hands when he’s tying them tight. Apparently, they’re not tight enough that just from one glance, Sukuna knew they’d be breaking apart.
“Why would you want a house if you live in the clouds, angel?” Sukuna sighs, shaking his head. If he’s tall as Satoru is, the house might’ve been done ten minutes ago. “Make it tighter or else all of our materials will go to waste.”
Satoru grunts and pulls the fiber securely around the bamboo but no matter how much strength he puts in, they still wobble. “I am trying— Ow!”
Satoru whimpers and squeezes his hand right at the splinter. Panicking, Satoru runs towards the stream and dunks his hand in the water to numb the pain. The older one starts to cry. Sukuna jumps into the stream, worried.
“Let me see.” Sukuna carefully grabs Satoru’s hand to carefully take the splinter out and when it does, blood oozes out from it. Satoru flinches.
“I’m sorry. I can’t be of much help.” Satoru sniffs. “I was the one who wanted a house here but I can’t even—”
Sensing the sadness from the other, Sukuna shakes his head. “You’re helpful, don’t worry. Plus, it’s not that bad anyway. It will heal in no time.”
That doesn’t seem to comfort the other. So, Sukuna continues talking.
“I once fell down from a tree and broke my arm but I’m healed now.” Sukuna brings Satoru’s wrist close to his face while trying to recall the lessons he had about wounds – on how to stop it. He knows one way though – the way his Mother does it when he has tiny wounds. It seems effective anyway, but – “You can heal yourself, can you, angel?”
In between his sobs, Satoru finally breaks into a giggle. He uses the hem of his kimono’s sleeve to wipe his snot. “I’m not an angel, Sukuna. I’m just like you.”
Sukuna’s brows furrow a bit at that, then he shrugs. Satoru, who stands taller and is older than him, looks small and vulnerable right now.
The little Lord brings Satoru’s wounded finger to his lips and places a peck on it causing Satoru to gasp.
“W–what are you doing?”
“It’s what Mother does to my wounds that makes me cry.” Sukuna explains, licking his lips and tasting a tinge of metal on his tongue.
Sukuna doesn’t understand why but Satoru’s bottom lip juts out and his blue eyes are brimming in tears again. “I-is that so…”
His lip purses at the sudden switch in Satoru’s expression because he was already giggling a while ago. “My fawn, Uraume, was badly hurt too when I saw her during my training. But she managed to be strong and come to the festival.” Sukuna adds while he blows raspberries on Satoru’s wound. “I want to bring her here one day so you could meet her too.”
Satoru pouts. “How come you never bring her here?”
“Found her when she was weak during my training. Mother said Uraume has a weak heart and shouldn’t be tired that much…” Sukuna says while digging a stick into the ground. “You should come to the mountains to meet my clan… and my fawn. You know, fawns are grateful beings. She might still remember you.”
Satoru finally smiles again at his story. “The gods seem to favor you, Sukuna.”
Sukuna smugs. His fawn and the angel—
He mentally shakes his head to stop his thoughts..
They fall into a comfortable silence with Satoru’s smile from his lips that draws Sukuna to stare a little longer. “Does it still hurt? I think the wound will close down soon.”
Satoru shakes his head. “Not anymore. Thank you, Sukuna.” Their hands loosen from their hold when Satoru stands up, gasping. “I’ll get us berries to snack on!”
Sukuna is about to protest at that but Satoru seems enthusiastic about berries so he lets him forage while he finishes their tiny house.
As he’s done, he slips inside, waiting for Satoru to come back while watching and listening to the stream of water. Eventually, he starts to become uneasy as he draws random characters on the ground. When Sukuna realized that it’s been taking Satoru a while to come back, he decides to stand up when—
“Boo!”
Sukuna gasps.
Satoru giggles. “I’m sorry it took a while!” He says. Sukuna sighs after knowing it’s finally him. “I was eating the berries as I was picking them.”
Sukuna snorts. “Do you like berries?”
Satoru nods. “Mhm! Berries near the stream are the plumpest and juiciest. I didn’t want to waste the opportunity, you know?” Then he picks up one to give it to Sukuna. “Here, you try!”
Sukuna reaches out to hold the berry when Satoru pulls it away with a smile.
Which makes Sukuna frown.
“I’ll feed you, little Lord.”
Satoru lowers his head and lifts the hem of his kimono to prevent catching the dirt, following the sleeves of it when he sits inside their tiny home.
There, Sukuna sees healed bruises and scars.
They look like they really hurt.
Sukuna didn’t want to stare much so he ate the berry from Satoru’s hand.
Something starts to stir in his chest.
—
Ever since Sukuna saw the bruises, he’s gone quiet. Mindlessly brushing his fawn’s fur, his mind is somewhere else. He didn’t really like mornings but it has become something that brings him reassurance – that he will be seeing Satoru again.
He worries every minute when Satoru isn’t near him at all and the night has become so slow and long as he waits for the sunrise.
“Itadori…” Sukuna hesitates. “Do you know the Gojo clan?”
Itadori looks at him shortly before flashing a small smile at the question. “I know some of it. Why?”
Sukuna watches Itadori flip the hare over the fire. “Are they… bad?”
Itadori hums, leaning back and looking at Sukuna’s face lighting up from the fire’s light. “I’m not quite sure – but clans from below feel more … How do I say this… uptight? Competitive?”
He scratches his head, finding the right child-friendly words to say but Sukuna understood it immediately. “Are you worried about your angel, my Lord?”
Sukuna blushes and huffs. “He’s not an angel.”
Itadori leans with a smile, taking in at the new expression that Sukuna has on his face. “Well… if you’re worried about him – you shouldn’t. Your angel is stronger than you know. He’s almost the same as you are – like an equal.” He winks.
Sukuna’s frown turns deeper at the teasing then he throws him a small rock.
—
It’s as if a huge amount of snow got poured over him when he found that Satoru didn’t show up the next morning.
Then the following morning.
He wasn’t there at all.
Most of the days, Sukuna spent his time alone in their little house while April’s showers got more frequent than it’s supposed to be – hoping one of those days, Satoru would appear.
Everyday, Sukuna feels uneasy.
It’s worse whenever he comes home, unwantedly, with a heavy heart that Satoru didn’t appear at all.
—
The following month came, Sukuna is still persistent. It’s hotter these days and the stream is shallow. He approaches this month with a fresh perspective – since he believes a new month is a new beginning.
Knowing Satoru likes fruits, he brought baskets of mangoes that Itadori gave Sukuna’s mother when he was out with his mate from the other clan.
Satoru isn’t there again.
Like the tiny house they built, Sukuna’s determination and faith didn’t falter. The basket of mangoes sits on his lap as he waits for any presence at the stream.
As usual, before it gets dark, he comes home.
—
Days passed, Sukuna lost his enthusiasm in almost everything. He would run his fingers mindlessly through Uraume’s fur or make a mess of her mouth because Sukuna is staring at a distant while he’s feeding her.
Everybody, starting with Honoka and Itadori, noticed the changes in Sukuna. When Honoka sits with her child, Sukuna can’t put his feelings into words so Honoka decides to ask him about Satoru and what they did at the stream.
Sukuna tells everything with his eyes on the ground and his feet swaying from their seats. He tells her that it feels like he lost a part of him and he wants to be around Satoru all the time.
Honoka tells him that day that the Gojo clan are known to be strict but she didn’t tell Sukuna how abusive they can get. Knowing little Satoru and how fast it is until December, there’s a possibility that he’ll be turning in his teens and seeing the outside world will be less frequent.
Honoka knows little, of course. Just based on her hunches. From what she has heard from her ancestors, six eyes rarely appear through the Gojo's bloodline and Satoru is that rare occassion. It makes little Satoru become the next clan head.
Just like her little Sukuna, of course.
From Sukuna’s story, Satoru seems like a free-spirited kid. It could be that being a clan head isn’t in his dreams.
—
That day was the last time he saw Satoru.
When Sukuna turned eighteen, he became the clan head. Their clan had a ceremony and a celebration that lasted past midnight where people danced around the bonfire until they were tired. Too warm for Sukuna’s liking, if he’s honest.
He huffs as he stares at Itadori and his mate, Fushiguro, with a flower crown around his hair. No one really knew where Fushiguro came from. Sukuna only knows that he’s a lone one. When Sukuna was a kid, he saw Fushiguro as a spy because of his shadow technique.
He’s also the one who told him that Satoru is not treated well in his own household, forcing him to embrace and master his own technique. So, even though the mated couple are an eyesore, Sukuna lets it pass.
To admit he’s bitter is childish. He’s not. But there wasn’t a day he didn’t stop longing for Satoru and see his clan’s people get their mates – Itadori and Fushiguro happen to display affection right in front of him.
Raised with so much love, deep inside he knew he’s capable of giving a lot too. While many women and men presented themselves for him, he couldn’t find himself reciprocating – he gave his love for the time being only for his deer.
When it comes to love, he’s reserved. Way too reserved. Every day feels too strangling and pouring it out feels like the only way to be free – but he couldn’t find himself to just do it for anyone else.
—
The winter came and it lasted too long. Sukuna watches Uraume as she hops on the pile of snow causing some to sprinkle at him, with stains of berry’s juices on her mouth as her only snack. It makes him laugh despite how cold it is already and how useless his mother’s shawl is to keep his eartips warm, but enough to hide his fond smile.
Before Uraume reaches the snow-sprinkled bushes, they both hear a noise that puts them at full stop – guards all up.
“Uraume, come here.” Sukuna slips the remaining berries into his pocket. Uraume, oddly, turns slow on backing up. Annoyingly, Sukuna hisses. “I said come back here. Now.”
Sukuna doesn’t know what’s behind the bushes. A hungry wolf or a bear might’ve sensed Uraume’s presence. Whatever it is, it felt like a threat. Though Uraume’s trained to be sharp and strong like her owner, she’s still a prey to their eyes.
Uraume’s ears flap off the snow before her head tilts at Sukuna. Sukuna hisses again. The distance between them could be a factor – but it shouldn’t be. Uraume should’ve been wary of the noise already.
“I said, come back—” Sukuna loses patience to even finish his sentence so he surges forward, kicking off the thick pile of coldness on his feet just to get to her—
Thump!
Sukuna pauses for a short while and decides to run as quickly as he could. His heart races and every frost he inhales feels too sharp for his lungs as if piercing him every breath.
When he’s able to get to Uraume, he uses himself as a shield for —
Nothing.
The noise isn’t followed by anything after.
Uraume violently shakes her head – fights off her owner’s broader frame to run past him. For that short moment, Sukuna regrets training her as his equal because no matter how quick his reaction is, Uraume is now behind the bush.
A pale hand. Crimson blemish on white porcelain. The taint feels unacceptable.
Suddenly, the air doesn’t feel painful nor cold anymore. He takes another whiff and it’s as if something inside is slowly being mended up.
Every step draws him in. When he got to the bush, he saw a man with white hair. If it wasn’t for the man’s hand, he would’ve mistaken him as a –
Snow leopard.
Sukuna’s heart remembered to thrum again after a decade. “Shit.” He mutters to himself while eagerly loosing his mother’s shawl around his neck just to wrap it around Satoru’s neck. Satoru’s lips turns purple so quickly and he’s shivering –
His hand lights up with fire quickly. Once his hands were hot, he warms Satoru’s cheeks – to absolutely no avail. “Uraume. Inform Itadori and the others.” Sukuna speaks in urgency. “Now! Now!”
—
Satoru rests on their home’s bed now after receiving a reversed curse technique from Honoka. Itadori’s brother contributed to helping Satoru’s blood circulation to regulate his body.
It’s warm inside already but Sukuna added more wood to the fire to keep it warmer.
Itadori is the last one to leave the place but he holds the door and Sukuna senses his pause. Annoyingly, Sukuna sighs. “Now what?”
Itadori smiles sheepishly. “Well… You know that’s Gojo-san, right?”
Of course he is. “And?”
Itadori’s smile grows wider. “I was wondering if you… you know… when you were kids, you used to bring angel different flowers. Do you need some now? It’s hard to find one but I’ll manage for you.”
“He's not an angel and you tricked me when I was a kid.” Sukuna scratches his nape and hides his face by facing the fire. “Get out before I swing this wood on you.”
Itadori laughs. “Alright!” He waves and the door creaks to a tiny gap – but Itadori holds it again. “If you need something, let me know!”
He finally leaves.
Sukuna pokes the block of wood over one another, letting the fire have space to ignite further while his mind wanders. It’s been a while since something made him nervous and when Satoru stirs in his sleep, Sukuna’s heart beats faster. He turns around.
Sukuna doesn’t know what to say or even strike up a conversation because Satoru did it for him. But now that Satoru looks weak, he does feel the initiation falls to him.
“S–Sukuna…?”
The clan head lifts his head at the voice. Satoru’s awake now but his voice is raspy from resting.
“Is that you…?” Satoru blinks the blurriness away to take a good look at Sukuna. Sukuna knows he has grown quadruple times his size from when they were kids. Satoru softly barks out a weak laugh and he smiles. “Goodness… you’ve grown.”
“Couldn’t say the same to you.” Sukuna replies. “You’re shorter.”
“Oh, it’s you.” Sukuna could stare at this view forever – his mother’s shawl tickling Satoru’s nostril as he giggles only to stop so soon when he winces.
“Don’t— Don’t move too much. They’ve done some healing on your body. We found you weak and trembling.”
But Satoru’s stubborn, he sits. Sukuna remembers what Itadori says to him about not worrying too much because Satoru is stronger than he thinks. Itadori’s right about that.
Sukuna is tugged out from staring because he savors the moment that he is actually seeing Satoru right now, moving and in the same space as he is.
It almost feels unreal.
“I don’t know what happened and how you got here but once you’re feeling better, Itadori and his mate can lead you back to your clan’s home.”
Satoru clutches his ribside, staring somewhere as if hesitating to speak. “No. I–I ran away from home. I can’t take it anymore.” He stares at Sukuna and when he blinks, his lips start to tremble. “I don’t want to go back there anymore.”
“Okay.” Sukuna nonchalantly replies.
Satoru squints at him. “You must think I hit my head on something, don’t you?”
Sukuna stares back at him. “I can’t remember them saying you did.” He steps closer with a sigh to himself. “I kind of figured out that you don’t like it there anyway. I saw your bruises when we were kids.”
“...You did?” Satoru frowns and the next thing Sukuna sees is him covering his face. “That is so embarrassing.”
“You’re not what your bruises are, Satoru.”
Satoru lifts his face to look at him.
Sukuna diverts his eye away. “You’re not what your cursed technique is too. You don’t have to be.”
The older one bites on his bottom lip. “You didn’t change. Not once. You just grew in how you speak – like an old man.”
Sukuna scoffs.
“You knew?”
“I didn’t – right away. One of the members of my clan told me what really was happening and it just made sense.” Sukuna says and he falls silent right after.
“You must’ve thought I’ve abandoned you.” Satoru frowns.
“Not really.” Sukuna cuts him off. “I came down every day, anticipating your return.”
When Sukuna turns his eyes back on Satoru, he’s already staring back at him. “I wouldn’t abandon you, you know? But they – they knew I was sneaking out and made it physically impossible for me to do anymore. I was waiting for the right time to get away and my hear—” Satoru pauses. “My instinct told me to go to the mountains where I’ll be safe.”
He was definitely going to say heart.
Sukuna ignores it. “I was planning to go to you but it would’ve been risky. Doing it was risking your safety too.”
Satoru smiles at him. “You were going to see me…?”
“That’s what my heart tells me to do, anyway. But my head tells me to wait until I become the clan head.”
“You were going to save me.”
Sukuna scoffs again. “I would've burned your home down to ashes if it meant saving you, Satoru.” He stresses further.
Making Satoru’s smile grow wider even though he was biting on his bottom lip to contain it.
“Well! I didn’t need you to go far like that because I took care of it already!” Satoru confidently shares. “I just needed a clan to adopt me and give me – you know, immunity.”
“And that took you too long?”
Satoru gasps and Sukuna might have heard a rib crack. “W–well! I am a late bloomer and a slow learner! I’m not like you who can make fire so casually as a kid!” He pouts but when he lifts his bruised hands, he stares at it with pride rather than in pain. “But recently I found what my red and blue techniques could do…”
His smile never left his lips, then he hides his hands behind his back.
“You’ll know soon, of course!”
Whatever it is, Sukuna sighs. “So. Now what? You just need a clan to claim you?”
Satoru nods. “And to stay with forever.”
It’s Sukuna’s turn to squint. “Forever? Aren’t you a clan head already?”
Satoru giggles at him. “Aren’t you happy to see me again, Sukuna? Yes. I said forever. Meaning, I’d stay with them until I grow old and die.”
Sukuna is happy but he’s skeptical – just because he doesn’t get it yet. Uraume walks across the room to bump her head against Satoru’s.
“Oh! It’s you! You’ve grown too! Back then, you were taller than Sukuna.”
And Sukuna has the right to feel that way. He is the clan head, after all. One of his duties is to protect what he owns.
Uraume places a dried-up stem on Satoru’s hand.
“Is this for me? Oh… thank you!” Satoru stares at it in adoration. “Well at least one in this room is happy to see me.”
“What immunity are you thinking of? Marriage?” Sukuna blurts out.
Satoru’s giggles and his pettings to Uraume stops to stare back at him. He hums in thought. It isn’t really what Satoru was thinking. “That’s actually a great idea.”
What he was thinking is—
“...you were the only one who’s nice to me so I figured out that since your clan is too powerful, it’d be safe for me to risk myself to go to the mountains this winter and to be with you... marriage seems like a great idea.”
Though Sukuna thinks the idea isn't terrible, seeing Satoru with somebody else makes him frown. “You're gonna need a mate. I hope you know that.”
“Oh, I know.” Satoru hums as he continues to rub Uraume's chin. “There's still time for us to court each other.”
Sukuna blinks back at him, cheeks turning pink, and stunned at realization as he connects the dots. Though his reaction could say it all, he isn’t actually opposed to the idea. “You wanna be married to me?”
“Why? Do you rather see me with someone else?”
—
Initially, Sukuna was opposed to the idea only because he knew of finding a mate wasn’t as fast as he did with Satoru.
Satoru is a winter child born in December but he wasn't fond of the cold. He'd always find Satoru in his arms.
Soon after Satoru was claimed by Sukuna’s clan, the ceremony of their marriage was held by the sea where the sand tickled Satoru’s feet and the sun sets warmly behind their heads as their lips sealed their vows.
Days before the ceremony, since they were down the mountains already, Sukuna stopped by with Itadori and Fushiguro to see what really Satoru did to his clan's home.
Only to see it blown into a hollow massive circle as if a black hole swallowed it down.