Chapter Text
At the moment, Sukuna is pressing down a button on his car keys and waiting patiently for his trunk to open.
He reaches for his things, a few paper bags filled with new ruffled clothes and some groceries he had to stock up on. He lifts his things and uses his elbow to close the trunk.
Sukuna walks away from his SUV and heads for the elevator. While waiting, he notices a girl. Sukuna is familiar with her, since she is staying on the same floor as him, just one wall away.
They are neighbours. But she doesn't know him. And he doesn't care. When the elevator door opens, he lets her go in first. She mumbles something under her breath. He enters with caution.
The ride to their floor is quiet. Calming. Awkward. All of the above. And once the ride stops, she exits quickly and moves even faster. Sukuna moves slowly but is calculated.
He walks towards his door. She is still standing in front of her door, fumbling through her purse in search of her dorm keys. Sukuna trails his eyes at her form and then retreats. The moment he reaches his door, she is already in.
Sukuna swaps the grocery bags to his left hand and swoops for his keys in his right pocket. When he's in, he places his bags in front of the doorway. Sukuna takes off his jumper, places it on a counter somewhere, and plops onto his mattress.
The apartment is tiny, but it is sufficient—enough space to stuff his belongings together in one corner. Enough space to bed rot somewhere. Enough space to play the acoustic guitar that he places by his bed. Enough space to cook.
Sukuna pulls out his phone from his left pocket and scrolls through his unread messages.
6 messages from Yujii.
He sighs and tosses his phone on the floor. Yujii is his orphaned nephew that he couldn't care less about. But he still feels responsible for him. After some time contemplating, he picks up his phone and opens the text.
"SUKUNAAAA"
“SUKUNA WHERE R U”
"DUDE WHERE TF R U"
"BRO BROR BRRORORORO WHEREI HAVE NEWS PLPZLZPZL"
[Insert photo]
"DATE I AHEVE DATE I BAGEGD HER AHHAHAHA LMAO U OLD WANNABE GANGSTA"
Sukuna cringes at the messages. Yujii is only 9 years old, and he is 27. His brother married young, and Sukuna doesn't believe in love. It is sad, though; his brother died in a fire, alongside his wife. Yujii lives with his decomposing grandpa. Sukuna hates him.
So, at 18, he left his own father. The same year that his brother left to start his own family.
Sukuna rubs his temples and closes the app. His thumb swipes through the homescreen and opens Spotify.
His song blasts out loud from the speaker. He groans and positions himself upwards. He forces himself to stand and drags his worn-out heels towards his doorway and takes his groceries. While sorting them out, he can hear audible screams coming from the thin walls.
"It started," he mumbles to himself. Your neighbour, you, is crying your eyes out over the assignment.
You didn't understand what it wanted you to do. The questions are complicated, and the words are too much. You shift from your chair and rampage through the stack of books on your shelf.
You pull out your chemistry book and skim through the content. What is the formal charge of this compound? You scratch your head and give up.
Sukuna is already preparing dinner. It isn't his typical Japanese cuisine that he cooks every time he misses home.
It's just a simple honey-lemon chicken with some leftover macaroni in the fridge. But the fragrance travels from the vent, and you take a whiff.
Your stomach growls aggressively, and you press your hand above it.
Now you're hungry. You walk over to your fridge and check if there is anything consumable. None. All of your things are either expired, smell bad, processed, or take too much time to heat up.
You lazy little piglet, you could have sworn that you heard your mother's voice.
You sigh defeatedly; it is either your assignment or a full stomach. You hesitate. But then you remember the instant noodles somewhere in your cupboard.
You giddily open the wrapper and boil some water. Now, it's both a full stomach and full focus for your assignment.
You walk off to your table and continue solving the chemistry assignment. And when the kettle screams for your attention, you turn it off and pour it into the instant noodle cup.
While you were walking back to your desk, you tripped over your own feet, and the soup was spilt everywhere. Panicking, you quickly search for tissues. Shoot. You forgot to buy more.
You take off your t-shirt and wipe the mess. You're trying so hard to hold in the tears and scream. But it is what it is. And then it clicked to you. It's laundry day.
You don't have any other shirts to wear, especially because the shirt you're wiping the mess with is your PJs for the night. You let out a loud and frustrated groan.
Sukuna is already done with his food, and he hears this beastly noise. His eyes move towards his walls. Maybe it's time he asked his neighbour to turn it down.
He picks up his jumper and puts it on. When he exited his door, so did his neighbour. Both of them are now staring at each other. One with the intention to ask the other to shut up. The other, with the intention of keeping it discreet.
At the time, you were wearing the t-shirt you had sacrificed, so the stain was obvious. Sukuna eyes you down; a pitiful look displays. You want to scream again, but it's not the time.
You turn your head over to the elevator door and make a run for it. Sukuna catches up. You are fast, but he is faster. He pulls on your hand, and you fall behind. He catches you, and you look up at him.
"I have extra clothes," He says. Your face is red, but you're not complaining. The walk back to his dorm is embarrassing. He tells you to wait inside your apartment.
And you did. When he is done searching for his unused shirts, he knocks on your door. Gentle but firm. You open the door and thank him. He handed you his oversized Metallica shirt that he probably thrifted.
"Also, I can hear you scream every day. I don't know what you're going through, but in return, can you keep it down?" Your face flushed.
You say sorry and thank him again. You close your door and drop to your butt. Your face is buried in his shirt.
You are overwhelmed with so many things right now, but the scent on his shirt is overpowering. Woody but sweet. You like it.
You decide that today is enough humiliation. You put on his shirt and sat back down on your chair. Your work isn't done, and your stomach is still growling. Maybe tonight is assignment only and no food.
When the morning hits, you rush out of your apartment with Sukuna's shirt still on. You stayed up all night to finish that stupid assignment, and you're not even sure if half of it is right. When you lock your door, Sukuna exits at the same time.
Maybe it's a coincidence. Or maybe it is fate. You aren't sure. You didn't care about it enough for it to worry you. You sprint towards the elevator and press 'down'.
Sukuna stands beside you. That scent. You turn your head towards him, but very strategically. He notices. You retreat.
"Thank you, by the way," You say. He hums. The door opens and, like always, he lets you in first. You press the basement button and wait patiently for the elevator to descend.
The silence is deafening. He breaks it.
"So, what's making you scream at night every day...?" Right. That. Your face grows red again. You didn't know that the walls were thin.
But maybe you should've taken the hint when you could hear his song played at such a high volume. But you rejected it; it might be because it was so loud, it pierced through the thin walls.
"I… I don't understand what I'm doing most of the time. So I get frustrated."
He nods. And then he raises an eyebrow.
"What do you take?"
You gulp. Usually when people ask you this, and you answer, they look at you like you are not fit to major in medicine. You pause momentarily.
"Medicine."
"Oh shoot, my bad. I didn't know. That's tough."
Both of you are silent. You're happy that he didn't judge, but at the same time, you realise that it shouldn't be hard for you to excel in medicine if you're smart or passionate enough about it. You distract yourself with a question.
"What about you?" Sukuna looks down at you and scratches the back of his head. "Food," You 'oh’-ed.
No wonder every night when you're comfortably tucked in your bed or busy pulling out your hair for assignments, the aroma of delicious food travels from your vent.
It all falls into place now. He's a culinary student. And he's good too. Your mouth watered, and you gulped it down. Before you can say anything, the door opens. Sukuna waits for you to go out and follows from behind. You stop mid-walking and turn to face him.
"I'm [name]." Sukuna looks at you and pauses. He hesitates for a bit but gives in. "Sukuna," He responds.
You mentally note down his Name somewhere in your head and wave him goodbye. But now you're both walking in the same direction again.
Obviously because you're in the basement, and you're both heading towards your vehicles.
Coincidentally, it's parked right beside each other. His SUV and your black Harley-Davidson Fat Boy, which your dad insisted you use and learn to ride.
It is your dad's anyway, so you didn't have to take out money from your savings. Sukuna seems more mesmerised by your bike than by the fact that you're always together.
And when he gets into his car, he can't help but stare at your figure starting your motorcycle. Once you're ready, you leave.
But Sukuna is still in his car seat, failing to believe such a small thing as you could ride a bike like that. To be fair, he didn't even know it was your bike at first. He thought it was some random man in his 30s' bike.
Sukuna shakes his head and starts his engine. He's too busy to care, especially because you're a random person.
He's now praying that he bumps into you less, for the sake of making you less embarrassed and to prevent himself from getting envious of your bike.
Once he reaches his university, he parks his car somewhere close to the entrance. And when he walks inside the campus, he bumps into you again.
Now, frustration builds in him. It's getting annoying, really. You're also finding it distracting.
You enter your class, and your professor is beginning to set everything up. You're always early, so the professor never complains. But you make it a big deal.
A minute late is equivalent to getting closer to Armageddon. And it's probably because of how disciplined you were with your parents. Everything must be in the right order. One slip, and you'll get comfortable.
The lecture is long, but you get to skip some of your classes since you're qualified to. Today, you're assigned more tasks.
Research diseases you've never heard of. You're emotionally exhausted, but it's fine. To prove to yourself that you're qualified for this, you sucked it up.
Once the lecture is done, you pack your things on the table and walk towards the door. Some of your friends greet you; some smile.
You didn't mind being antisocial. But you're perceived as clumsy and unwitty. You do not appreciate it.
Now, you're lining up at the cafeteria when you spot pink fluffy hair serving food in front of the line. Sukuna. He doesn't excite you.
He makes you nervous. He makes you want to run away. Not out of adoration, but out of reluctance. Not after yesterday. When the line cuts shorter, you get closer.
And you're right in front of him. He glares. You tense. He draws back. He serves you today's menu, and you question whether he has always been there. Serving food at the cafeteria. Maybe? It went unnoticed by you.
You didn't realise how long you were standing in front of him until the person at the back taps on your shoulder. You apologise and walk off.
Sukuna looks at you from the corner of his eye. You notice the movement of your hips as you sway away. The shirt he lets you borrow now is slightly ruffled.
But he restrains himself. He knows better. He continues serving food to the other students waiting in line.
You sit down alone somewhere secluded. It's peaceful. You're content with your view. The wind blows gently, caressing your skin ever so slightly.
You plug in your earbuds and skim through your playlist. The weather is lovely today. The food looks fresh and is well presented.
You take out your digicam, which has been rotting in your purse. You take a photo and maybe some more. Until the lighting goes off.
You raise a brow and pull the camera closer for a better view. Something's wrong. Then you look up, possibly finding reasons to explain why the picture became gloomy. Oh. Oh.
Sukuna is standing in front of you. His body is towering over yours. He crosses his arms. You gulp. You don't want this. Especially because you made such a bad first impression.
He sits beside you and pulls out a cigarette from a personalised case. You shift slightly in your seat. He observes. He takes note.
Perhaps it's your imagination, but you saw him distance away. Just a bit, but enough. You awkwardly pick up the fork and start eating.
"Is it good?"
He asks after a puff. You give it a good chew before nodding. It's really good. All your fantasies about his cooking when it travels from the vent involuntarily arise.
This is real, and it is so delicious. You cover your mouth with your palm and look his way. Your eyes are shining, and he notices.
"This is so good!"
You say between chews. You look back at your camera and take a few more snaps. Sukuna takes a few more puffs before dropping the cigar butt on the floor and squashing it with his shoe.
He never cares about what people think of his cooking, but after that compliment, he feels better. He feels seen.
You both continue the conversation with more 'it's really good' and 'thanks'. And at one point, he finds it disgusting how you're talking while chewing. So he tells you to finish the dish first.
Once you're done, you set the tray aside. You tug at your purse and pull out your small plastic water bottle. You chug it down and set it together with the dirty plate.
Sukuna doesn't know what to say; neither do you. So, like always, you both sit in silence. Until Sukuna decided to say something.
"Do you like my cooking?" You nod furiously. How can anyone deny such delicacy? You thought to yourself. Sukuna absorbs and then smiles at you.
His right leg bounces rhythmically. You are busy with the film camera. He likes this.
Sukuna pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram, then hands it to you. You peek your head up from the camera and look at the mobile offered.
You analyse, and then search for your phone in your purse. Enter his username quickly, press follow, then raise your phone to show him the evidence.
He nods, refreshes his notification page, and then accepts your following request. He does the same as you; he presses follow, and you reciprocate.
"You've got nice posts," He compliments, and you blush uncontrollably. Your fingers could only manage to fidget with the side of your phone case.
You pull the bottom of your phone case out, push it back in, and repeat the motion. Again, silence. But Sukuna doesn't break it this time. He allows it.
It's always him anyway, so he gives it to you this time.
"Have you always served food at the cafeteria?" Sukuna looks at you, a little taken aback. So you never did notice him after all this time. But it isn't your fault.
You barely have time in your hands to do so. He doesn't answer immediately. He wants to give you a different answer. But maybe he just wants to toy with you.
Sukuna likes to see you flushed and resisting the urge to dig a hole nearby to bury yourself in.
"No. It's my first day," You believe him. Just before you could say something, your phone rang. It's 5 minutes before class.
You hurriedly place your things back in your purse and turn around to pick up your tray when Sukuna beats you to it.
He pulls the tray just before you can even touch it and walks off without a word. You feel guilty, but you have a class to worry about. Tardiness is not acceptable after all.
⋆˚꩜｡𐔌՞. .՞𐦯⋆. 𐙚 ˚
Classes are over now, and you finally have the time to sulk in your bed. You've already parked your bike, and you're now making your way towards the elevator.
Sukuna isn't there, but you're pretty sure he'll be home sooner or later. You hear a car from behind, and you turn. In the car, you see Sukuna.
But it didn't interest you enough to stay there a little longer so he could park and get out of the car.
You take the elevator and ascend. Sukuna watches from his car. You disappear, and now he's outside of his SUV. Once he's on his floor, you're already in your dorm.
He didn't mind. And you didn't bother to greet him. You decided to take a shower. You pull off his shirt from your figure and toss it near your bed, and enter the shower.
The warmth is nice, and you drown yourself in it. After a good hour, you exit the bathroom, trembling and cold. You quickly search for your neatly folded clothes for comfy wear and put them on.
And after some haircare and skincare, you situate yourself nicely in the embrace of your bed. It's so nice, you feel like dozing off. But you have to finish at least one part of the task.
So you lazily crawl to your desk and open your laptop. You're irritated. You're exhausted. But the clock is ticking.
And you feel your anxiety rising. Just before you could type in some words, someone knocked at your door. You groan and walk towards it.
When you open it, a food container is placed on the doormat. You pick it up and look around. It must've been Sukuna, you thought to yourself.
You close the door behind you and walk towards your desk. It's not fresh, but recently warmed. You open it, and the smell instantly fills your nose.
It looks good, and smells divine. You head over to your drawers and pull out a fork and, at the same time, a glass of milk.
You set it all in one place and begin your all-nighter. You like this. You search for your phone on the desk and open Instagram. You stalk Sukuna's page and press 'message'. You hesitate again. You always do this.
Sukuna is doing the same. He keeps closing and reopening his phone to check if you messaged, or if he should make the first move.
Neither of you has the courage to. So Sukuna sets his phone aside and pulls his blanket closer. The cold air of his apartment made it easier for him to fall asleep, but his heart won't rest. He still wonders when you will text.
Or should he? He shook his head. No, maybe yes. Okay, fine!
He sits up in bed and opens his phone. Name is displayed at the top of the message. [Name]. He says. And when he smashes at least 2-3 words on his keyboard, there is a knock on the door.
He sits up straight. Sukuna walks toward the door and opens it. There you are. You're shy, flustered, confused, but brave. You hand him his t-shirt. It smells like you now.
He can tell. He takes it and grips it tight. It's silent between you two again, so you break.
"Thanks," You mumble. s "Thanks," You mumble something under your breath and hurry to your dorm. Sukuna stands there, silently closing the door.
It's like you're both teenagers again, he thought. He walks back to his mattress and plops down. The shirt is still in his hand, and he pulls it closer. It looks worn. It looks alive. He smirks at himself and sets the t-shirt aside.
He's not planning to wash it anytime soon. Nothing malicious, just to reminisce. Those days when you're stuck in your dorm and tirelessly working your butt off for schoolwork.
Sadly, today's weather is nice. You turn to your side and stare at the world from your window. The wind is blowing smoothly, and the leaves prepare for autumn in October.
You studied this: chlorophyll pigments break down, allowing other pigments in the leaves to absorb lower-energy wavelengths from the invisible Sun. Smarty-pants, you smirk to yourself and continue your work.
It has also been a good month since you had a proper interaction with Sukuna. Life has engulfed you, and you're too engrossed with bed rotting at any given time.
You've become sore with all the restless nights of completing tasks and studying for practicals.
Sukuna, on the other hand, is busy preparing to enter junior chef positions at hotels. He has no time to focus on going out with his friends, nightlife, washing his clothes, you, or relaxing at all.
All of his money is spent on resources to help him progress in his career. If you ever visit his dorm, you can form a facial expression no one has ever invented before at how disgusting and unorganised it is, except for the kitchen.
It's surprisingly tidy and even spotless, if you may. It's no surprise; he is a chef after all. They take that matter seriously.
You stretch from your seat and arch your back; a yawn escapes your mouth. You turn your head to press the screen of your phone. 4 PM sharp.
The Sun is setting just nicely. It paints the city with gold while birds circle back to their nests. You decide that today is a good day to go out.
Maybe buy some clothes to prepare for the chilly days to come. You walk towards your wardrobe, wrap your neck with a red scarf, and put on a cute outfit for the outing.
You pick up your dorm keys and your purse from the counter and unlock the door. As you step out, Sukuna does the same. He stares at you with wide eyes.
He wasn't expecting to see you. His hair tells you that he had just woken up. The fresh red imprint of his hand outlining half of his right cheek, and his black puffer jacket, half on, says it all.
You raise your hand and wave at him. A smile curls from your lips. He waves back. Sukuna stands still. His eyes follow your every movement.
He was so out of it, but he continues to admire you. You're already locking your door and making your way towards the elevator when he stops you. You turn your head, and he flusters.
"Sorry, I just woke up," He blurts, and you laugh. You wave at him to excuse his action. You turn your body around and look up at him.
He could only stare again. His eyes trail yours and the way your lashes flutter every time you blink. Your nose and its arch. Then to your lips and the curve. He blinks and shakes his head.
"Where are you goi— I mean! Ugh, sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out weirdly."
He headpalms himself. You shake your head and hold onto your purse tighter. You can smell the strong coffee scent from his mouth. You hold your breath. Not because of the strong odour, but because of the proximity. The tension.
"I'm actually heading out to shop, or get drinks if I feel the need to. Do you.."
You fidget with the hem of your top.
"Want to tag along...?"
Sukuna's now sweating bullets. His response came in a stutter. You can't help but giggle at him. You've never seen Sukuna so ditzy before, especially because he had just woken up.
You chat a little more when the elevator door opens to welcome you both. You press the lobby button. Sukuna turns to you in confusion.
"Aren't you going to drive?"
He asks. You form a thought before responding. Your finger taps your chin.
"No, I feel like walking today. I've been stuck at home since forever. A walk would be nice."
Sukuna nods slowly. Maybe this is also a good time for him to subtly catch up for the times he had been absent from the gym. Once you both reach the lobby,
Sukuna lets you walk first. Like always. You slow your pace to let him catch up. And you both walk.
The setting Sun created this calming atmosphere. A kind that makes you glow, and Sukuna can't stop himself from staring. He's mentally slapping himself.
He's afraid of making you uncomfortable. But you aren't. You enjoy his company. He's silent. But considerate. And you like that.
You're both walking downtown until you reach the local mall. It's nostalgic in its architecture, but it bustles with students and teenagers as if it's still alive in modern life.
After some walking, you reach your favourite clothes store. Sukuna watches you walk in, and you turn around to invite him. He's secretly holding his breath.
The idea of being here with you, in a public space. It's like a date, right?
Your time together is filled with 'Does this look cute?' and 'Would this look good on me?'. And for every question, Sukuna responds wholeheartedly.
He melts at your indecisive nature when it comes to shopping. He finds you endearing with every question you throw at him.
And when you're done, he insists on carrying your bags. He feels fulfilled at being of service to you. Like his whole life's purpose is to find you and be by your side.
And when you're tired, he suggests you rest at a cafe. You decline. You mumble about how expensive it is and that you're out of money. He hisses. You freeze.
Sukuna is glued to the cafe, and you have no choice but to obey. He opens the cafe door, and you both enter. The cafe welcomes you with indie songs from your playlist.
You walk up to the counter and analyse. The cheapest drink— you can feel the unappreciative stare from your neighbour.
"I pay, you drink," He retorts. You give in. You whisper to him your order, and he rolls his eyes. He tells you again, and you sigh in defeat.
You order your favourite drink and slowly turn to meet him. His face relaxes, and he's ordering his own drink too. You stand there awkwardly, fiddling with the ends of your scarf. The cashier smiles, writes both your names on the cups, and tells you to sit down.
You chose to sit by the window. An open space, but Sukuna's presence made it feel private, just for the two of you. Silence swallows you both once more.
You reach for your purse and pull out your film camera. You snap some photos of the scenery. And you're dragging it to your side each time.
Until it reaches Sukuna's outline. He's staring at his phone. And he looks good. You continue to adore him from the small opening of your film camera. You might as well snap some photos of him.
Until he looks your way. You're paralysed.
He reaches for your film camera, and you let go. Your hands are still in place. He scrolls through the photos you had just taken. And you could have sworn you saw him smile.
He hands you back the camera and continues doomscrolling. Your heart is pounding. You feel like dying. But the barista breaks you out of your trance with your Name.
Sukuna tells you to wait. He gets out of his seat and goes to pick up the drinks. From afar, you see his brows furrow. The barista said a few words before he continued to walk towards you.
Sukuna hands you your drink, and you raise a brow.
"They think we're dating or something." You turn red. You turn your cup around and see drawn hearts around your Name. Below it, a message.
'You both look so cute together!!~ ✿' You place the cup on the table and hide your face. Sukuna observes. He takes small sips from his drink and sets it aside.
You're a lot cuter when you're shy, he thought. Sukuna can't help but smirk. He likes the idea of being mistaken for your partner.
You try to recover yourself. You reach for your drink and take a sip. It's good. The previous thought flew away from the door. You're enjoying yourself now.
He lowers his head towards you. Your faces are inches apart. You feel your blood rush up your face.
"Can I have a taste?"
You short-circuit.
"The drink, I mean."
He smirks again. You nod shyly. He picks up your cup and takes a sip. You eye his Adam's apple. The way it moves as he swallows.
You burn red. Again. He sets your cup back to its original position and licks his lips. He hums in approval.
The song changes: 'We fell in love in October.' And the world falls apart. You can only see him. And he sees you. You're breathless. He caves in.
The leaves are falling ever so slowly. The passersby walk in slow motion. The crowd in the cafe is muted. You focus on him. And he does the same.
But you're afraid. He's holding on to the thread, but you're resisting. And he understands. The world moves as normal. Everything is back in its place.
The sudden loudness of the cafe rings in your ears. Sukuna continues to scroll through his phone. You withdraw your film camera. Like it never happened.
(divider)
The elevator ride to your floor is awkward. He's still carrying your bags. The door opens, and you walk first. He catches up. And when you're in front of your dorm, he places the bag on the floor.
Sukuna scratches his neck and watches you unlock your door. You pick up the bags from the floor and turn to face him.
"Thanks. For today."
You say. And he responds.
"Uhh, you're welcome. Yeah. Of course."
You both stand in silence again. Until you break it. You walk into your dorm, awkwardly wave him goodbye, and close the door.
He sighs and drags his legs to his apartment. He enters and shuts the door. You both simultaneously fall on the floor and wrap your hands around your head.
Today was dangerous. Too dangerous. You muster the energy to stand up and unwind on your bed. Sukuna stays in place. You can't help but roll in your own bed. Sukuna pulls his knees close.
You're so smitten, and he's head over heels.
You like him. And he likes you, too.