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“Brat.”
The sudden voice cutting through the silence makes Yuji jump. The whisk that was in his hand just a second earlier clatters when it hits the ground. A few muttered curses leave his lips as he bends down to pick it up again.
“What the hell is your problem, man?! Can’t you see that I’m busy?”
Instead of an answer, the red eye on his hand simply stares at him. He must be imagining things, because he could swear that it’s frowning.
The King of Curses doesn’t frown.
But Yuji does. Heavily so. So much so that his face hurts from all the frowning he is doing right now.
“What do you want,” he grumbles while rinsing the whisk under running water.
The curse remains silent for a second before the eye on his hand disappears. The uncomfortable feeling of skin splitting on his cheek tells him that the little parasite inhabiting his body has now chosen to silently watch him from his cheek instead.
Whatever, Yuji tries to shrug off his weird behavior.
He flicks his wrist a few times to shake the excess water out of the whisk before turning back towards the bowl of half-whipped cream. He continues whisking it carefully at first, steadily increasing the speed.
Sukuna stays silent, and Yuji is not entirely sure if he’s happy about that. It’s unsettling at the very least. Usually, that menace wouldn’t pass on any opportunity to mock or belittle his host. Now, his quiet stare burns metaphorical holes into Yuji’s busy hands. As strange as his behavior is, Yuji can’t help but be a little curious. When will Sukuna ever be this well-behaved again?
“Do you have something to say?,” Yuji says, trying to sound amicable. Sukuna might be a curse, but he was formerly a human, so maybe you can actually expect to have a normal conversation with him from time to time. Well, as normal of a conversation as you can have with a demon sharing your body with you.
“It’s your birthday,” Sukuna states matter-of-factly. Yuji puts down the bowl and whisk. The cream has doubled in volume with all the air whipped into it, and the creamy texture looks more than satisfactory. Luckily, his skills haven’t dulled a bit since he joined Jujutsu High.
“It is.”
The kitchen goes silent again.
This is stupid, Yuji thinks to himself. This whole conversation reminds him of his grandpa. He also isn’t great with words. Wasn’t great with words.
He sighs.
Yuji’s about to give up on receiving an answer on what Sukuna wants when the curse suddenly raises his voice again.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, “and you’re standing in the kitchen to make a…” His words die down, as if he isn’t sure how to express himself. He continues to be very out of character.
“A cake.” Yuji finishes his sentence for him. “A birthday cake,” he clarifies. “What about it?”
Judging by the tug on his skin, Sukuna’s expression must’ve changed. Yuji tries to catch a glimpse of it in his reflection on the metallic fridge, but it’s too distorted to see.
“People should serve you on your birthday, should they not? So why dirty your own hands?”
“Is there a problem with that? I always have this cake on my birthday.”
“I know,” Sukuna says, a sharp hint of irritation in his voice. “I saw that old man make it for you when I went through your memories.”
“Okay, first of all, could you, like, not look through my memories? That’s creepy. Second, and I am surprised you don’t know that after going through the hassle of looking through my memories, he died. So, I’ll have to make it myself.”
“Why not have someone else make it for you?,” Sukuna inquires while deftly ignoring Yuji’s complaints. This guy. Well, it’s still better than getting insults and curses thrown at your head.
“It’s not so bad to do things yourself from time to time. I don’t care much about gifts – the most important thing for me is to spend time with my friends today.”
Yuji shifts his balance from one leg to another. There’s something he’s curious about. Like, really curious about.
“How did you celebrate your birthdays?” They did celebrate birthdays during the Heian period, right? Yuji feels kind of stupid for wondering about that.
“I don’t have a birthday.”
Yuji can’t help but look visibly surprised. “What do you mean, you don’t have a birthday? Everyone has a birthday!”
“Don’t compare me with the lot of you. I have never been a human to begin with. The moment I was born I became a curse upon the woman that gave birth to me, and I was fortunate enough that the beggars that found a wretched creature like me fed me with dirt and stones instead of feeding on me. Their flesh was the first and last gift I had been given; everything I wanted after that I have taken for myself.”
Yuji hums – partially to cover up his shock, and partially to try and loosen the knot in his throat. “So you do have a birthday.”
“By technicality, but not by virtue. I have no need for meaningless human practices.”
The frown on Yuji’s face grows. “Birthdays aren’t meaningless.” He could physically feel Sukuna roll his singular eye. “And… I mean… You say you have no need for it but… You were born, so you deserve to have a birthday.”
His statement solicits a loud sigh from the curse.
“Don’t use your flimsy morals on me,” he says, voice even as if to indicate that he wasn’t done talking. But it quickly becomes obvious that he won’t continue, but he doesn’t retreat either. No, he just continues silently watching him work.
“Whatever,” Yuji whispers under his breath before returning to his task at hand: Spreading the whipped cream on the cake. He even went out of his way to buy a new spatula just for this occasion.
The cream spreads smoothly on the spongy surface of the cake. With near-expert movements, he spins the cake on a plate to even it out and, as a finishing touch, arranges strawberries in a circle on top.
He takes a step back to take in the results; his best work so far, if he may say so himself. There’s a bit of whipped cream on the back of his hand, and without thinking, he licks it off. It’s sweet. Of course it is, it’s literally whipped cream with sugar. The taste quickly fades from his tongue. He licks his lips, as if he could find some more there.
An idea pops into his head, as if he had been struck by lightning.
“Sukuna,” he says carefully.
“What,” the curse drawls in response.
Yuji licks the corner of his lips nervously. “Would you be able to taste the cake if I put it into the mouth you manifest on my skin?”
A sharp inhale gives away Sukuna’s surprise. “What’s this? Are you trying to earn my favor? You’ll have to do better than that, brat.”
“Oh– No, that’s not what I’m… I just thought you’d…” It’s like he’s stumbling over his own words. “I just thought it would be nice to share, you know…”
The dumbfounded silence gives space for embarrassment to creep up his nape. What a stupid idea, stupid stupid stupid. With bated breath, he awaits Sukuna’s mocking laughter – but it never comes.
“…I’m not sure I could. Why don’t you hand over control over your body, just to be sure.” Oh… Yuji bites his bottom lip. It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to quickly take back control of his body in case Sukuna tries to do anything–
“…You’re seriously considering it.” Sukuna sounds like he can barely believe it. The hand on the clock seemingly ticks in slow motion.
“You pity me.”
It’s not the words that hit him like a gut punch, but the raw venom with which they are spat at him. The name of this poison is contempt: reeling, seething, bubbling just barely below the boiling point. Known to Yuji so intimately, the weapon of choice with which Sukuna torments him day and night. And yet, for the first time, Yuji perceives it as a real threat, as if it’s cold steel pressed against his throat. Primal instincts scream a language he has long forgotten – raw, unfiltered fear.
The wave of nausea hits him out of nowhere, throwing him off balance. He barely manages to catch himself on the kitchen counter before he would’ve keeled over. Tangible malice chokes him out like black smoke, threatening to suffocate.
“I don’t,” he tries to pacify the curse through grit teeth. There’s no way for him to know why Sukuna reacts so violently to the idea of being pitied, and a tiny part of him, perhaps his survival instinct, tells him that it’s better to keep it that way.
“I don’t need your pity, I don’t need your sympathy, and I definitely don’t need your charity.”
Like a parent done with scolding their child, the pressure lifts just enough for Yuji to breathe easy again. With one hand, he pushes himself up while keeping the other one clutched to his chest, right above his racing heartbeat. Yuji struggles to muster up the right words, but Sukuna seems to sense that the boy is about to say something again.
“Don’t underestimate me, brat. I’m a curse.”
Sukuna wasn’t wrong, Yuji does pity him. It’s second nature to him, just how cruelty is second nature to Sukuna; one embracing humanity while the other rejects it.
But even then…
“Even then... You were human once, before you turned into a curse. Which means that what you are isn’t all you will ever be.” The mouth on his cheek opens, but doesn’t say anything. Yuji quickly continues to talk before Sukuna can come up with a snarky response.
“Even someone like you deserves kindness.”
The mouth closes. This might just be the first and last time Sukuna has ever been speechless, or so Yuji likes to think. He takes a breath and braces himself. He needs to for the thing he is about to propose. It feels silly, even to him.
Under Sukuna’s suspicious gaze, he cuts a slice out of the cake and takes it with his bare hands before raising it to his cheek.
“Eat it.”
Yuji decided to just assume that Sukuna can taste whatever he eats through his manifested mouths. And even if he can’t, it’s the gesture that counts, right?
“Eat it,” he repeats more forcefully, moving the cake a bit to close and feeling the cold cream stick on his skin.
“Why should I–”
“I decided that it’s your birthday cake, too.”
“What is the meaning of this…” Sukuna trails off, sounding more confused than irritated.
“I said,” Yuji says while continuously nudging the curse’s lips with the cake, “that it’s your birthday cake, too. Happy birthday, Sukuna.”
“What–”
Yuji frowns. Is it really that hard to understand?
“I’ll share my birthday with you, since you don’t have one. We already share a body, so we might as well share a birthday as well. Now open up, I promise it tastes good.”
Silence. Not even the tiniest bit of a reaction. He pouts.
“Fine, I’ll just eat it myself then.” He opens his mouth to take a bite when the skin on his palm splits.
“Stop.”
Yuji freezes mid-motion. Something grabs onto the cake, and quicker than he can raise his protest, it’s gone. The only proof it even existed in the first place is the cream on his cheek – and the tongue darting out of Sukuna’s mouth to lick his lips clean
“I thought you didn’t want it!”
“I never said that I don’t want it. You offered it to me. It was mine.”
This guy. Of course he would do anything but agree with Yuji on something, ever.
“Was it at least tasty?”
“It’s too sweet. I expect something better next year.”
For a second, Yuji gets upset about Sukuna’s pickiness. But then the meaning behind his words dawn on him, and the implications for the future. A smile creeps on his lips.
Next year, huh…
Looks like Yuji has some time to figure out Sukuna’s preferences until then. Who knows, maybe he’ll even give him a present – if Sukuna accepts it, that is.