Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Loud music blasted through his ears as he came to the door. He picked the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips and threw it onto the floor, stomping on it and letting the last of the fire die out. He pushed it beneath the small carpet in front of the flat with his shoe.

Welcome!

Sukuna felt an all-too-familiar cringiness, rolling his eyes. He unlocked the door, pushing it open with a heavy thud. 

“Mom?” He turned around, slowly checking all the sides of the room he could see from the doorway.

”I’m home!” He hesitated for a moment. “I brought dinner.”

No answer.

With no reply, he smiled and shut the doors behind him.

Thank fuck.

With fast steps, he made his way to the couch. His backpack with his notes was on the floor. He fell onto the couch with a groan of happiness and tucked himself under the sheets. He had no idea how much time he had until Mom would show up, but he’d savor all of it. 

Sometimes he hoped Mom would just disappear.

He knew how fucked up it was for him to want that. He was wrong, selfish and fucking weird for wishing that upon his own mother, but every-day-life was just so much easier without her.

Maybe if his dad took him instead of Jin in the divorce, he could have a completely different life now. But that sort of thinking didn’t really change anything, did it?

He exhaled, staying under the sheets for a few seconds more.

The peace lasted only a few moments before his ears caught a distant sound of glass falling. 

He frowned, still covered by the sheets, before tearing them off and straightening up. His frown deepened as the realization hit him.

”…Mom?”

Unidentifiable mumbles echoed through their tiny apartment, reaching all the way to the couch.

Fucking hell.

He exhaled, taking a moment to massage his temples before standing up. With firm steps, he opened the doors to her room.

Beside a cluster of glass bottles, there were only a few sheets thrown on the ground. The heavy smell of alcohol made his nose wrinkle.

He quickly left and instead opened the only other door in their flat–the bathroom. The smell was much more intense here, hitting him with full force and making his stomach turn.

His mother was lying on the floor, three half-empty bottles scattered beside her. She was lying in a pool of sake, puke and urine. Her trousers were souking through and a drip of liquid was dripping from her mouth. A few strands of her hair were stuck against her face, smeared with the mess. 

“You good?” 

He dropped down to his knees, pulling her up by the shoulders.

She groaned at the sudden motion, pushing his hands away. She almost slipped back down, but Sukuna caught her in time, pushing her into a sitting position against the wall.

She finally looked up, meeting his eyes.

Her eyes were glassy. She was obviously making a great effort to keep them open and focused on him. Her makeup had run down her cheeks in dark, tear-stained streaks, while whatever lipstick she had put on earlier had long since disappeared. 

“...Wasuke?” She squinted her eyes, blinking.

Sukuna internally cursed, rolling his eyes.

“Nope,” he huffed. “Your son, actually. How are you feeling?”

Her eyes were still fixated on him, though they seemed to soften for a split second before she started blinking again, as if the light of the bathroom hurt her eyes.

“Peachy,” she hummed, putting a hand up and massaging her face.

The familiar look in her eyes–red and glossy–took him back to all the other times he’d done this. 

Over and over and over… 

The never-ending cycle.

“Do you feel like puking again?” he asked her, looking over the mess she had left on the floor. 

It would be a pain to clean up.

Instead of answering, she closed her eyes again with more force, her hands going through her messy hair. She seemed to come to the same conclusion as well, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“I’m disgusting,” she frowned, looking at the floor. “I think I puked.”

Sukuna hummed, already picking up the bottles from the ground and putting them in a bin.

“You did.”

“And peed myself.”

“Your self-awareness never fails to amaze me.” 

Her eyebrows creased as she looked directly at him, burning fury in her eyes.

“Stop being so cocky! I am your mother. Treat me with respe–” 

She never got to finish as she suddenly gagged and puked.

Sukuna was with her in a second, already holding up her dirty hair back. Though her puking over herself was already bad enough.

“...What about you take a shower while I’ll clean up?” he sighed, feeling the exhaustion creeping through his body. The heaviness that always came with dealing with situations like these on a daily basis.

“I don’t need anything. Especially from you,” she huffed, angrily. “I can do it myself. I’m not useless.” 

“I’m not saying you are, I’m just offering–” he tried, his patience running thin.

“Shut up! You’re suffocating me.” She pushed him away as he let go of her tangled hair. 

“And have you been smoking? You reek of cigarettes.” 

He rolled his eyes, already standing up.

“No Mom. Kenjaku and Mahito just smoked beside me, and my clothes smell like them,” he sighed, the practised lie sliding down his tongue with ease. “We’ve already been over this like a millionth times.”

How she even noticed the smell in her current state, in this disgusting air, was a wonder.

Her face scrunched up in frustration.

“I’m not stupid, Ryōmen,” she snapped angrily. “You think you can just fucking lie to me? I am your mother. I know everything, and you should respect me.”

Sukuna held yet another eyeroll at that.

Respect.

She demanded something so easily, yet it was him taking care of her all the time. There wasn’t a single birthday where she was sober. Not a single nice memory where she wasn’t drinking. 

He learned how to take care of a hangover before multiplication.

Over time, he just stopped… caring about her approval.

Chasing it like a wild animal didn’t seem as appealing once he realized how much of a fuck-up she really was.

Yet she was so consumed by her addiction that she didn’t notice the change.

“...Is that a tattoo? Did you tattoo your face too?”

Oh well, she must be really out of it if she was only noticing now.

“No, it's a fix. I got bored during the fourth period.”

“I don't believe you.”

He smudged it. “See? I’m not lying.”

“Hmph!” she snapped, looking to the side.

He stared at her for a moment before sighing.

“I’m getting you a glass of water,” he decided, cutting off whatever she wanted to say. “You’re gonna drink it. Then, you’re going to shower yourself, while I clean up the bathroom and make sure you don’t accidentally kill yourself.”

He gave her a meaningful glare as she burned holes through his head.

“...And when you’re done, you’re going to bed. I’ll clean the clothes afterwards.”

“You’re not my parent. You don’t get to order me around!” she yelled, though Sukuna was already walking out, ignoring her.

He took out the sandwich he’d bought for her and filled one glass with water. A routine that felt too familiar for his liking.

Ah well. The grocery store had a two-for-one deal, and although he originally wanted to just leave it in the fridge for her, he supposed giving it to her now didn’t make much of a difference.

Taking a few breaths to prepare himself, he grabbed them both and returned to the bathroom.

His mother was still plastered on the ground, though now she was holding onto the sink. Her shoes had been taken off, and most of her vomit was wiped away.

“Sit down,” he said immediately, catching her hand and settling her onto the closed toilet.

She hummed, holding her face in her hands.

They both stayed silent for a moment as Sukuna put the glass of water in her hand.

“Drink.”

“I don’t—”

“Drink,” he repeated, pushing the glass closer.

She frowned at him but drank it nonetheless.

“...I brought you a sandwich,” he offered after a moment, once she had emptied the glass.

She frowned immediately, slamming the glass down on the sink.

“You wasted your money on that?” 

“It’s food.”

His grip around the offered sandwich tightened.

“I can’t believe you’d go around wasting your money on it,” she exhaled, tired. “There’s dinner here.”

”If you mean the bread with mold on it, I threw it out.”

”You what?”

He let out a long, exhausted groan, ignoring the burning rage in her eyes.

“That bread was perfectly edible! You could cut off the mold!” she started yelling. “It could’ve lasted us another week.”

“Relax, I bought it with my own money. I didn’t waste any of yours,” he huffed.

Her frown hardened.

Oh well. He’d almost forgotten how fucking pissed she was that he’d found a job.

“I’m not fighting you with this,” he rolled his eyes, sighing. “I bought you a goddamn sandwich. Take it or leave it.”

She took the sandwich from his hand and threw it across the room.

Sukuna watched it with a deadpan expression, his eyes twitching.

“Wow. Throwing a perfectly good food across the room. Really mature.”

“Fuck you!” she groaned, pushing him away with both hands. “Go away. I don’t want you or your pity. Just fuck off.”

Sukuna sighed, his head falling forward. He pushed himself upward with an exhausted groan.

Pity or not, he couldn’t help someone who didn’t want his help.

Though, he was confident that his mother would stay in the bathroom until she fell asleep, leaving all the mess in there unwashed.

Which would lead to an awful odor that would sadly make its way right to his couch.

And if there was one thing he hated more than coming home and seeing her, it was waking up in the middle of the night because of the disgusting smell. Nobody else would clean it if not for him.

So, that only meant he’d have to do it later tonight.

Fucking fantastic.

He stood up, turning around and grabbing the sandwich lying on the floor.

He’d already eaten his, so he could leave it in the fridge for tomorrow. At least he had guaranteed breakfast. Not that he trusted Mom not to throw it out while he wasn’t watching.

“Wait!” she yelled after him when he was already halfway through the door. 

“Did you at least buy me Suigei?”

Sukuna didn’t even glance back.

“No. Buy it yourself.” 

This time, he turned around, facing his mother as she stood up.

“I can’t believe you!” she frowned, whining. “You used to be so obedient when you were younger: Always helping me out, being nice to me…. Where did my happy little boy go?”

“I was a kid.” His voice grew quieter now. “I shouldn’t have that shit for you.”

When he was younger, he brought her alcohol whenever she asked. 

He thought he was being helpful. 

He was in preschool.

“You changed,” her voice was small. “You’re so mean now. Why do you disobey me so much, hm? I don’t know why you’re doing this to me.”

He stayed silent, watching her.

Sukuna knew she was still drunk. He knew that, in the morning, she probably wouldn’t even remember half of what she was saying. She was only saying these things because she knew they would hurt him. 

He knew by now she wanted him to snap, to prove her right. 

To prove that he was a cruel and mean son. 

But even knowing that...

It still fucking hurt.

And this was how it always was.

She was always nitpicking him, always finding something to criticize. If he came home too early from school, she wanted to know why. If he came home too late, she wanted to know where he'd been. If he spent his own money, she complained that he was wasting it. If he didn’t spend enough time at home, he was neglecting her.

Always preparing him for the “real” world.

Always insisting that she was only trying to make him stronger.

“Why are you home so early?” he finally broke his silence. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

He could see her face immediately turning bright red.

“How dare you!” she screamed. “My job is very important and pays for everything. It’s none of your business, so don’t ask about it!” 

So, apparently, asking questions was only disrespectful when they came from him.

“Why are you home so early, huh? Don’t you have a fancy job to get to? Or a school? Or those idiotic friends of yours?” she kept on rambling, one word tumbling over another.

Oh, she was pissed.

“I have a job that pays for your school. Goddamnit, do you know how hard I work? So what if I want to take an early leave one day? There’s nothing wrong with that! I’m a single mother with no education, I’m doing my best!”

Alright.

So the highest chance was that she’d gotten fired.

It would explain how she’d started drinking so early in the day and why she was so pissed.

“You know I was your age when I got pregnant?” she said suddenly. “Do you know how hard it was to raise you? Can you even imagine?”

That finally did it.

“Getting knocked up at seventeen isn't something to be fucking proud of,” he snapped, his patience finally running out.

“You fucking brat!” she gasped. “It wasn’t my fault! Your idiotic piece-of-shit father got me pregnant and then took away the normal twin! I wish I’d never given birth to you. Do you know how much easier my life would be?”

“Yeah, you’ve told me like a million times.” Sukuna's jaw tightened. “I don’t care.”

“I had a good future ahead of me!” she continued anyway, ignoring him. “I was a great student. I wanted to be a doctor–a doctor! But then you were born and ruined it all!”

She was yelling now, throwing her hands around like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Well, it’s not my fucking fault for being born!” he screamed back.

“I wanted to get an abortion! But noo, ‘You can’t kill the kids. We’ll raise them together–’ Such a fucking liar, just like you! I shouldn’t have ever talked to him.You all ruined my life!”

Sukuna barked out laughing.

“Don’t blame me for your life decisions,” he laughed. “I’m the one cleaning out your puke and piss. I fucking hate this too.”

She started tearing up, pushing herself completely away from him.

“You’re such a fucking brat!” she huffed, her eyes growing glossier than before. “You’re so mean to me for no reason.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, putting his hands together.

“You’re right,” he huffed. “You’re the victim here, and I’m a big bad bully who ruined your life because I take care of you and deal with your bullshit.”

“Ryōmen,” she glared at him. “I hope one day you’ll have a child just like you, so you can see how fucking grateful you should’ve been.”

Sukuna stared at her for a few more seconds before giving up. He turned around and stormed toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, wobbling on her feet and following after him. 

“Don’t ignore me Ryōmen!”

“I’m leaving.” He grabbed his jacket from the couch and stuffed it on.

“Oh, so you’re running away like a little bitch because you know I’m right. Or is it because you’re tired of me and want to leave me like your good-for-nothing father?” she snarked, leaning heavily against the fridge.

He didn’t even look at her.

“No,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I’m leaving because I don’t want to argue with you when you’ve already decided to yell at me no matter what.”

“So you are running away because you know I’m right,” she grinned, laughter sneaking into her voice. “Just like your daddy.”

He ignored her and grabbed the keys on the counter.

“Go on, leave me all alone. I’m giving you permission,” she hummed.

“I’m not leaving because you allowed me too,” he gritted through his teeth. “I’m leaving because you’re a bitch. I don’t need your approval to do anything.”

“Well, I’m giving it to you anyway.” She smiled sweetly.

Sukuna opened the doors and slammed it behind him with full force, nearly tearing it from its hinges.

He stormed off, walking quickly with heavy steps across the streets, not turning back.

Each step and inhale only fueled the anger burning in his lungs.

He hated how she could get under his skin so much. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone for once? Didn’t he do enough for her?

He constantly walked on eggshells around her, and for what? It didn’t matter what mood she was in; nowadays, it seemed almost impossible to avoid triggering an episode.

She wanted to ruin her life? Fine.

That was her choice.

But Sukuna refused to let it be his.

His phone vibrated, tearing him from his thoughts. He checked the messages, purposefully ignoring his Mom’s name at the top of the list.

Kenjaku - 15:14

Supp

Could u send math notes?

Tomorrows the test and I completely forgot about it LMAOO

No but seriously pls help

Dads gonna kill me if I fail again

Sukuna only let out an exaggerated sigh, writing a short reply before stuffing the phone into his pocket. If anything, it only served as a reminder that he still had to go back. Math tests were no joke, and although his scores were fantastic, he needed perfect grades to get into his dream uni.

When he had finally walked far enough that he could no longer see that sorry excuse of a flat behind him, Sukuna found himself in a more expensive part of town. Tall white buildings were covering most of the flat, only from time to time a huge garden with weird geometrically-cut plants.

He sat down on the pavement, hidden beneath a nearby tree, and unwrapped Mom’s sandwich. Not that there were any people around, but sitting somewhere no one could see him was a good precaution. God knew he didn’t fit in, with his dirty clothes, dyed hair, and tattooed arms.

Maybe, on second thought, he should’ve stayed in his neighbourhood.

Well, it was too late to think about that now.

He continued eating the sandwich despite already being full. He refused to let it go to waste, and–with a petty sense of satisfaction–he told himself that by finishing it, he’d prove his Mom wrong. 

…He really was a child.

A loud exhale passed through his lips as he closed his eyes.

A branch snapping nearby caught his attention.

When he looked up, he noticed a child staring at him. 

The moment their eyes met, the kid immediately looked away, hiding behind a trash can. But Sukuna had already seen them. 

They were so small they nearly disappeared beneath the oversized, filthy rugs hanging from their slim body. Sukuna couldn’t make out much from this distance, except for the dirt covering their skin and the bruises scattered across what little he could see. 

If he had to guess, the kid couldn’t have been older than five. 

The moment Sukuna returned to his sandwich, the child started staring again. 

When he lifted his eyes up, the kid was already hiding again.

It happened twice.

Then several more times.

Finally, Sukuna’s patience snapped, as he stopped eating and lowered the sandwich.

”What’s your problem?”

The child froze.

For a moment, the child looked like a starving stray caught too close to someone else’s food; too hungry to leave, too frightened to come any closer.

Sukuna stared at them few seconds longer before sighing.

”I asked you something.” 

The kid flinched.

“…Sorry,” they whispered.

He pushed himself off the railing and shortened the distance between them until only a few steps separated them.

The kid watched him nervously, their hands trembling around their torso. There was a rare hunger in their stare, eyes fixed on Sukuna’s hands.

From up close, they looked even younger and smaller. So much smaller.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on them.

They couldn’t have been older than five.

And they were shaking over a damn sandwich.

”Hey, uh… it’s fine I—“ 

Well shit. Now he’d freaked the kid out. 

“—Was just asking? ‘Cause you kept staring,’ I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The kid seemed to relax slightly, though their hands still tightened around their body.

Well, that was the closest thing they were going to get to an apology from Sukuna.

He sighed, watching as the kid continued to stare at him distrustfully.

"Why were you staring at me anyway?” he asked, taking another bite out of his sandwich.

Their eyes kept drifting toward the food in his hands, only to snap away whenever Sukuna looked back.

The way the kid watched the sandwich, their eyes following every bite as if they could somehow devour it from a distance, finally made something click.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, blinking.

The starved hollows of their face certainly supported his theory. 

The kid’s eyes widened. They shook their head hesitantly.

Their stomach, however, loudly protested.

A faint blush spread across the kid’s face as they quickly looked away, still shaking their head.

“I’m sorry.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes and reached for the other sandwich he’d bought for his Mom. 

Oh well. 

At least someone who was actually grateful for the food.

“Here. Take it.”

The kid blinked, hesitating.

“It’s okay.”

“Just take it while I’m offering,” Sukuna rolled his eyes and tossed it toward them. 

The child caught it with both hands. The desire to inhale the food was instantly written across their face, though they still looked up at Sukuna as if waiting for him to change his mind.

“You don’t want it?”

“Fuck no.” Sukuna frowned, sitting down closer to the kid. “I’m piss-poor and hungry. Of course I want it.”

“Then why…?” The kid held the food with trembling hands.

Sukuna shrugged.

“You look like you need it, and I’d rather not have your death on my conscience.”

“I’m sorry,” the kid mumbled, taking a small, hesitant bite of the bread. 

They chewed slowly, almost cautiously, as if testing whether the food was actually safe to eat.

“Stop apologizing, It’s getting annoying.”

“…I’m sorry,” they mumbled.

Sukuna stared at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Just eat.”

The kid didn’t wait any longer and stuffed his mouth full, and Sukuna could swear he saw twinkles of joy sparkling in their eyes.

What were their parents thinking, leaving them out here?

The kid hesitantly moved from the hidden spot behind a bit to the spot were Sukuna was sitting. To his dismay, the air around the kid smelled bad.

His phone buzzed as he looked down. Several unread messages from Kenjaku sat at the top of the screen, followed by a handful of notifications from the class group chat and a stream of memes from Mahito. Sukuna scrolled past all of them without a second thought, opening the only contact he had actually bothered to set a ringtone for.

Mom - 15:20

Where are you?

You know I didn’t mean it

Please come back

Mom - 15:39

Are you fucking ignoring me????

You little SHIT I fucking hate you so much 

Don’t even bother coming back

Leave me alone you PARASITE!!!!

Mom - 15:45

Are you okay?

I’m worried about you

You’re just so irresponsible sometimes its my job as your mother to let you know when youre being stupid 

Im preparing you for the real world you’ll thank me later

Mom - 15:46

When youre done with your tantrum and ready to act like adult come home 

Of course, it had to be his mother. Why wouldn’t she text him?

Because he hadn’t had enough of her at home, she needed to keep bugging him even when he was outside.

With a click, he turned off the phone.

He noticed the kids’ big eyes fixed on the mobile, their cheeks stuffed like a hamster’s. From this close, Sukuna could see the pinkish-brown color of their eyes.

“Never seen a phone before?” He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

The kid ignored his jab, instead leaning closer and taking a better look at the turned-off display.

“Do you have any games?” They tilted their head, a few crumbs falling from their mouth.

“No.” 

They let out a disappointed sigh, their concentration returning to devouring the sandwich.

Sukuna frowned. “Even if I did, what makes you think I’d give you my phone?”

They shrugged their shoulders.

“Stupid, brat,” he grumbled, though he was fairly sure the kid either didn’t care or simply hadn’t heard him.

His phone buzzed again. And again. This time, with more urgency.

Mom - 15:49

I know you’re reading this

Stop ignoring me

He turned the mobile off but another notification popped up immediately.

Mom - 15:49

Do you hate me?

Is that why you’re so cruel?

He exhaled deeply, the kid already licking their fingers clean.

“I gotta go,” Sukuna sighed, standing up.

”Oh,” the kid hummed, staring at him with their wide, pinkish eyes. “Thank you for the food, sir.”

“Sukuna,” he huffed. “Just call me Sukuna.”

“Thank you, Mister Sukuna-san.” 

Sukuna’s eyes darted away.

“Don’t thank me idiot. I would’ve trashed the food if I hadn’t given it to you.” The only difference was, the kid would’ve picked it from the dumpster either way, so really, he hadn’t done anything to be remotely thankful for.

“Thank you anyway.” 

They bowed their head, making Sukuna massage his neck awkwardly.

“Okay… good luck,” he muttered, walking off.

Hopefully, he’d never have to see them again.

“Bye-bye!” The kid stood up and waved at him wildly with one hand.

Sukuna didn’t bother waving back.

“Skipping school again?”

Mahito turned around in a snap, a huge grin hanging on his lips. Without a second to waste, he jumped at Kenjaku, who immediately fought him off.

“Dude, fuck school. I’m a baddie. I don't need that shit.” Mahito continued grinning, though both Kenjaku and Sukuna pushed him away with disgusted sneers.

“Your decision,” Kenjaku shrugged. “You’re not gonna graduate, not me.”

“Do you seriously think I care? I’m literally clinically insane. Statistically speaking, I never had much of a chance in the first place.” Mahito stuck a cigarette in his mouth.

“Sukuna?” Mahito winked at him with pleading puppy eyes.

Sukuna rolled his eyes but pulled out a lighter, helping him out.

Without a second thought, he grabbed one of the cigarettes and stuck it to his own mouth. The warm feeling of nicotine twirled through his lungs.

“Yo—hey!”

“Taxes,” Sukuna huffed. “This is some good shit. Where’d you find money?”

Mahito kept frowning but rolled his eyes.

“Found the whole pack on the road,” he proclaimed proudly, as Sukuna wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Oy, fuck you! You can’t steal from me and complain.” Mahito pointed an accusatory finger in the middle of Sukuna’s chest. “And you know the pay is shit. I fucking hate McDonald’s.”

“And it will continue being so if you don’t graduate and find a better job,” Kenjaku hummed, much to Mahito’s annoyance.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Okay, well, don’t expect to free-load off me when I’ll be famous and successful.” Kenjaku rolled his eyes.

Mahito stuck his tongue out at him.

“I swear, you act like such a child. So fucking annoying!”

Sukuna drifted off, moving the cigarette around in his mouth.

All the school assignments were finished, and he had all the time in the world. Maybe he should just wander until late at night?

He sure as hell didn’t want go home so soon. 

He’d rather go to the trash-can kid again.

Huh.

That actually wasn’t such a bad idea.

“…All the cocaine in the world and your nose is still up my ass.”

“I’m more of an LSD guy, actually–”

“Sukuna, can you tell him to piss off?!” Mahito whined angrily, gripping the sleeve of his jacket.

“Tell him yourself,” Sukuna frowned, shaking Mahito’s hands off.

Ew.

“But you’re like the only guy he respects. Can’t you do that for your best friend?” He gave him a wild smile that was supposed to appear cute, but with the stitches and scars covering Mahito’s face, it made him look unhinged instead.

“No.”

Kenjaku barked out laughing as Mahito wilted like a kicked puppy.

“At least I have a job ya’ know,” Mohito mumbled. “It’s better than being unemployed.” He stretched out the word, staring at the sighing Kenjaku.

“He’s not wrong,” Sukuna hummed. “You could at least try to look for a job.”

“Not you too,” Kenjaku sighed. “Just because you two work criminally underpaid doesn’t mean I have to, too.”

“Hey, my pay’s still better than Mahito’s.” Sukuna frowned, offended.

“That’s because they let you work the register!” Mahito groaned. “Because you’re nice to look at. You have cool tattoos, dyed hair, big muscles…”

“Dude, that's gay.”

“...But you think they let me at the register? Nooo. This patch face never walks out of the damn kitchen because, apparently, having a scarred face isn’t trendy enough.” 

Kenjaku and Sukuna exchanged a judgmental look.

“And whose fault is that?” Sukuna offered, but Mahito was already in one of those episodes.

“I swear, when I see that fifty-year-old, obese failure of a human being manager walk into that McDonald kitchen, knowing everyone hates him and he’s just going to flirt with sixteen-year-old girls–” 

“Dude just quit. Nobody’s keeping you there,” Kenjaku interjected, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

As if they hadn’t had the exact same conversation every single day.

“Shut up!” Mahito snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“It’s a McDonalds. You’re not building your career there, just work at Tacos or something.” Kenjaku rolled his eyes.

“Oh, by the way, did you know Geto and Gojo broke up?” Kenjaku suddenly said, turning back at Sukuna, who blinked.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope,” Kenjaku smiled. “Toji saw the whole thing when he was working as a server in KFC.”

“You want me to believe Toji was employed?” Sukuna barked out a laugh. “Not a chance.”

“Well not anymore, obviously,” Kenjaku rolled his eyes. “He got kicked out for stealing strips, but I mean, he still got to see cool shit, you know? Maybe you should work there too, Mahito.”

They both turned back to the scarred man, who was still lost in his own bubble of thoughts.

“Did I tell you how he flirts with me and slaps my ass cause I have long hair?” Mahito laughed.

“Yes,” both Sukuna and Kenjaku replied simultaneously, making Sukuna exhale.

Fucking hell, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Apperently I’m too ugly to be around customers, but my hair looks nice and long enough for that pig of a manager to pull on—What a fucking creep!” He kicked a rock so hard it rattled several meters in front of them.

“Okay, we get it. Your manager’s shit—“

“When I see him next time, I’m gonna throw his ass straight into the fucking fryer—I’ll deep-fry his stupid little pen he keeps wiggling around, stick it in the oil until it melts and then shove the whole fucking thing up his ass. And when I’m done, I'm gonna peel his skin off like one of those shitty paper wrappers and throw him in the Happy Meal box—!” 

“Careful Mahito,” Kenjaku sang in a playful tone. “We just got you back. You don’t want to return to the fairyland so soon, right?” 

“Oh, fuck off. Like you have anything to say.”

“I wasn’t the one admitted to a mental hospital.”

“You were in a juvie. Juvie.”

“Both off you, fuck off and shut up,” Sukuna growled, already tired of their yapping.

“Yeah, you little fruit-ninja champion, shut up.”

“Wha–you bitch!”

Mahito tried to jump at Kenjaku’s throat.

Tried.

To Kenjaku’s luck, Sukuna was in the middle of it and had already decided he’d had enough, so he pushed Mahito off mid-jump.

“Mahito,” he warned.

Mahito blinked, confused, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

“He started it!” he complained.

“And I’m finishing it.” Sukuna had enough.

“Yeah, patchface, listen to the big bad Sukuna,” Kenjaku giggled, only for Sukuna to punch him in the arm.

Kenjaku yelped, looking over his arm with a frown.

“I thought you were on my side?”

“I’m on neither side. Both of you shut up,” Sukuna groaned.

He spat out the rest of the cigarette and stepped on it. Before leaving, he stole the rest of what Mahito had and stuck another cigarette in his mouth.

“Hey! What’s that for?”

“Annoying me,” he sighed. “You two idiots have fun. I’m going home.”

“I thought you hated it there?” Kenjaku blinked.

“I do,” he grumbled. “But I’d rather be there than here.”

And with that, he left.

“Send me the chemistry notes, please!” Kenjaku yelled after him, to which Sukuna waved him off and continued walking.

He didn’t really know where he was going. He just wanted to go away.

He didn’t have any particular destination in mind, not that he was in any rush to get home. 

Walking through the streets, he watched the buildings pass by as silence surrounded him. It was a nice contrast to the time he spent at school, at work, or at home.

As he walked, he realized that he was instinctively heading toward the path where the kid had been.

Not that he cared.

But he still had the rest of his lunch in his bag. He had planned on eating it later for breakfast, but it just so happened to be his least favorite food and, well…

With a low string of curses, he headed toward the same spot where he had met them.

It had been a few days, so who knew if the kid would still be there, but it didn’t hurt to check.

After a few more minutes of walking, he saw the small figure again.

At first, they quickly hid behind a tree, but when they recognized him, they stuck their head out and waved at him.

“Hello, Mr. Sukuna-san.” They bowed deeply.

They were wearing the same clothes as last time. The only difference was that they were covered in even more dirt.

“Yeah, hello to you too, twirp,” Sukuna waved them off, already sitting down on their side of the pavement.

When the kid didn’t move and only continued watching him hesitantly, Sukuna noticed their dirty face wasn’t only covered from dirt, but bruises too. 

Huh.

He turned to them with a raised eyebrow.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down?”

The kid snapped out from their trance and quickly sat beside him, cross-legged.

From up close, Sukuna could see the bruises more clearly, swollen and dark against their skin. One of their eyes was nearly swollen shut and their hair was a tangled mess of dirt and knots.

Sukuna’s face scrunched up in displeasure.

“You’ve got an impressive shiner,” he muttered.

His hands extended toward their face, but the kid backed away, hesitantly flinching.

“Can I?” he asked, waiting.

The kid hesitantly nodded, and Sukuna took their face in his hands, looking over the bruising.

Truly, most of the “dirt” he had thought he saw was actually blood mixed with mud. There were some nasty bruises along their face, around both eyes and part of their mouth. Not to mention the rotting teeth he could smell from up close. He’d be surprised if the kid didn’t feel pain with every bite they took.

“Mom or Dad?” he asked after letting go of their face.

The kid blinked at him dumbly.

“...What?”

“Who’s beating you?” He rolled his eyes, ignoring the tightening fists by his side. “Your Mom or your Dad.”

The kid blinked again, frowning–or as much as they could frown with their swollen face.

“Nobody,” they said defensively.

“You positive?”

“Yes.”

“Then how come you’re always covered in bruises?”

The kid stared at him, as if deciding whether they’d rather run off without any food this time. After a while, they must have decided it was still worth it, because they continued.

“Some kids were kicking a stray cat.”

They stopped there.

Sukuna stared at them, still waiting for the rest of the story, but when they didn’t continue, he sighed.

“...And you were the cat?”

They frowned.

“What? No.” They frowned harder. “I saw it, so I beat them up. I hate bullies.”

Sukuna exhaled.

Alright, that explanation at least made sense.

“Oh really?” he asked, not even knowing why. He didn’t really care.

The kid nodded enthusiastically, overjoyed that someone asked them about it.

“They were all bigger and older than me,” they continued. “There were hundreds of them, and when I saw them kicking the cat, I got really mad because that was mean. So I went and kicked them all. But because there were so many of them, they hurt my face.” 

They touched their swollen eye absentmindedly.

“I would’ve done the same,” Sukuna nodded, encouraging them without meaning to. 

He sighed, looking toward his bag.

Goddamnit.

Without thinking twice, he was already pulling out some disinfectant and his water bottle. From the looks of it, the kid hadn’t even bothered cleaning their wounds, and with their bruised face, that could bite them in the ass later.

“If you let me patch up that face, you can have the rest of my lunch. How does that sound?”

The kid nodded enthusiastically.

As he cleaned the wounds with water, he noticed the kid clenching their fists around their dress, though they didn't say a word.

“You know, you’re lucky my friends keep doing stupid shit all the time,” he hummed, trying to distract them. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have this with me.”

The kid didn’t answer him, only continuing to watch the disinfectant with hesitation.

He turned toward it, grabbing the bottle as well.

“The disinfectant doesn’t hurt. Mahito—an idiot from my class—kept complaining until I bought a different one.”

“Oh.”

The kid visibly exhaled as they watched the bottle, and Sukuna moved it closer.

He disinfected the wounds, and as soon as he was done, the child’s chest relaxed. As if all that tension had been caused by nothing more than the bottle.

“Mommy always says it hurts because I was bad,” they muttered.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow.

“When I disinfect my bruises.” The child looked away, their fingers picking nervously at the edge of their sleeve. “From school.”

Sukuna glanced down at the disinfectant in his hand.

“Well, that’s not really how it works.”

He dabbed it carefully against the bruise, watching the child flinch.

“The disinfectant hurts because it reacts with the stuff in your skin that makes the wound dirty. Depending on what you use, it can irritate the damaged tissue too, so it stings.”

The child remained quiet.

“It has nothing to do with your actions or behaviour,” he hummed. “It’s just a chemical reaction.”

They let out another small flinch.

“...It doesn’t?”

Sukuna frowned.

“Well, obviously–” He paused, looking at the confused stare.

Oh, to hell with it.

“Depending on what you’re using, the chemicals can damage the cell membranes or react with proteins in the damaged tissue. That’s why it stings. Hydrogen peroxide, for example, breaks down when it comes into contact with certain enzymes in your cells, which is why you get all that bubbling. It doesn’t mean the wound is being punished or that you did something wrong. It’s just chemistry.”

The child stared at him blankly.

Sukuna opened his mouth again.

“And if the disinfectant contains alcohol, that can irritate the exposed nerve endings because—”

He stopped himself.

What the fuck was he doing?

He glanced down at the kid, who was still watching him with the same confused expression.

They were five.

They probably didn’t give a shit about cell membranes.

He had finished disinfecting their wounds. He was already being overly friendly to some homeless kid, and now he was giving them a fucking chemistry lecture about disinfectant?

Sukuna sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Just… don’t worry about it.”

He put the disinfectant away.

Instead, he grabbed his lunchbox and gave it to them, watching happiness beam across their rosy cheeks. They immediately thanked him and eagerly opened the box, digging into the food.

Did they even have anything to eat while Sukuna was away? Who the hell was feeding this kid?

“So,” he hummed. “You have a name? Or should I just keep calling you garbage kid in my head?”

The kid frowned, both cheeks stuffed with food.

“I’m not garbage,” they mumbled.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sukuna laughed. “You were hiding behind a garbage can last time we met.”

The kid stared at him cautiously, but after a few moments of continuously stuffing their mouth, they turned to him and quietly mumbled:

“Uraume.”

The next time he met them, Sukuna happened to be walking by.

Then he happened to take a turn.

And before he realized it, he was already too close not to check in.

After a few weeks of “accidentally” bumping into them, he made it a habit to check on them at least twice a week. He had started bringing over food that would otherwise go to waste, along with disinfectant and bandages, just in case.

Eventually, without even realizing it, Uraume had snuck their way into his life.

The small kid learned to wait for him near the bin, reminding him a little of a lost dog.

“Where are we going?” they asked, again.

Sukuna let a small smile tug at his lips, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“That’s a surprise.”

Uraume didn’t seem particularly happy about that, but they continued following him nonetheless.

Sukuna suddenly stopped in front of a library.

It was one of those expensive-looking buildings that tried to make itself seem effortless. Huge glass windows, spotless white walls, polished floors, and enough space inside to make the entire thing feel more like a university than a public library.

Sukuna had been coming here to study for years, but he had never really considered what he looked like standing outside it.

Now he did.

His clothes were wrinkled and stained from work, his shoes were worn down, and his hair was a mess. Uraume was worse. Their clothes were dirty from sleeping outside, their hair tangled, and bruises were still visible all over their skin.

Against the clean white building, they looked almost painfully out of place.

Like two pieces of garbage that had somehow ended up in front of someone’s expensive house.

Sukuna stared through the glass doors.

“...A library?” Uraume tilted their head, confused.

“Yeah.” Sukuna smiled, taking off his jacket.

Uraume blinked as he held it out to them. After a moment of hesitation, they took it and slipped their arms through the sleeves, tugging the jacket up over their shoulders. 

“What are you doing?” they asked, looking down at the fabric suspiciously as they fumbled with the sleeves. 

“Giving you my jacket, dumbass,” he hummed. “They wouldn’t let you in wearing those scraps. So you gotta hide under this.”

Uraume blinked in surprise, then pulled the jacket closer around themselves, bunching the fabric around their small frame. 

They shifted their shoulders a little, getting comfortable beneath it, before settling in.

“Thanks.”

Sukuna pushed the door open and walked inside, leading Uraume by the hand to a corner on the second floor, where they found a table with two couches nearby.

“What are we doing?” they asked again, comfortably settling into one of the chairs.

“I’m doing my homework.” Sukuna pulled his backpack down, revealing it was filled with books. “You can do whatever you want. There are some comics here, but there are also pretty comfortable couches and pillows, so you can lie down and sleep for all I care. It’s warmer and quieter than outside, so I thought you might appreciate it.”

Uraume blinked, and for the first time since meeting them, they smiled.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He nodded.

It wasn’t like he was doing them any huge favors. Technically, they could come here whenever they wanted, too. They would only need to get a library card with their student ID, which was a matter of five minutes and only a handful of yen.

But he thought they might still appreciate it.

Even if they wouldn’t talk to each other much.

As he got to his homework, Uraume wandered around the library, picking up different books and flipping through them before putting them back. After a while, they found a picture book about flowers and settled onto one of the nearby soft couches, pillows piled around them.

For a while, they were perfectly content looking through it on their own. Every few pages, though, Uraume would get up and quietly make their way over to Sukuna.

“What’s this one?” they asked, holding the book open to a page covered in delicate pink blossoms.

Sukuna glanced at it before looking back at his homework. “Sakura.”

“Sakura,” Uraume repeated, quietly testing the word.

“Yeah.”

They nodded seriously, then returned to the couch.

A few minutes later, they were back.

“This one?”

“Ume.”

“And this?”

“Fuji.”

Uraume seemed satisfied with every answer, returning to their book each time without much more than a small nod. Eventually, though, their visits became less frequent. When Sukuna finally glanced over again, Uraume was lying curled up among the pillows, the flower book still open across their chest.

They were asleep.

Sukuna stared at them for a moment before quietly turning back to his homework.

Sukuna quietly finished his homework and, afterward, checked the time. Since he still had some time left, he took out a book and continued reading to pass the time. 

After a while, his phone started buzzing.

Then it really started blowing up.

Suddenly, someone was calling.

He didn’t even look at the caller ID. He didn’t need to.

“I’m busy and don’t want to talk.”

“Very funny asshole. Stop ignoring me.”

Sukuna felt his heart sink, even though he already knew. 

Still, he wished he was wrong.

“Why are you always so fucking difficult? You know I’m your mother, yet you can’t even answer your phone when I text.”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Studying.”

“Studying? At this hour?”

“Yes.”

His eyes drifted from the finished exercises in front of him to Uraume sleeping on the nearby couch. They looked so comfortable, almost lost beneath the oversized jacket, with one arm tucked beneath the pillow and the flower book resting open beside them.

“You could at least come home. I need you to do something for me.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“What?”

“Go to the store.”

“For what?”

There was a brief pause.

“You know what.”

Sukuna's jaw tightened.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

He lowered his voice, glancing around the library. A couple of people nearby looked up briefly before returning to their books. 

“Stop being a brat and do something useful for once.”

Sukuna felt his anger blur his sight.

“I’m not fucking buying you alcohol! How many times do I hate to repeat myself? I. Am. Not. Go buy it yourself with your own money if you need it this badly.”

“Watch your mouth son.”

“Watch your blood pressure, old hag.”

“Why are you so mad at me?”

“I’m always mad at you, I’m just having a shitty day so it’s harder to pretend like I’m not.”

“Oh how bad could your life possibly be, indulge me.” She laughed at him.

Sukuna clenched his jaw, staring down at the phone in his hand.

“You really wanna know?”

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

He pushed his chair back and stood, unable to sit still anymore. He took a few quiet steps toward the shelves, keeping his voice low.

“I woke up, took care of you. Had school. Then I had work. Then I had to deal with your bullshit again before I left, and now I’m sitting in a fucking library trying to get some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, wow. Poor you. Sounds soooo difficult. Welcome to adulthood.”

Sukuna stopped walking.

“Why are you—” 

He rubbed his forehead, giving up halfway through the sentence. 

“I don’t get you. Why are you acting like this? Is it funny to you? Does it make you feel better? Feed your fragile self-esteem?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You ungrateful little shit—”

“I’m ungrateful?” Sukuna’s voice rose despite himself. 

He immediately caught himself and glanced around, lowering it again.

“I’m the one who has to make sure you don't choke on your own vomit! I’m the one who gets you water when you can’t even stand up! I’m the one cleaning your fucking bathroom!”

“I never asked you to do any of that.”

“No, you just made sure someone had to.”

“You're being dramatic.”

“Of course I am!”

“And here we go again—you always have to make everything about yourself.”

Sukuna went quiet for a second.

Then he laughed under his breath.

“…Wonder who I got that from.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m fucking tired.”

He looked back toward the couch.

Uraume hadn’t moved, though Sukuna could swear they just blinked… were they pretending to be asleep?

“You’re always tired. You're always angry. You're always acting like I ruined your life.”

“You want me to lie?”

“I want you to act like you actually care about your mother.”

Sukuna stared at the library floor.

“But I do, I wouldn’t be your errand boy otherwise!” His voice came out strangled, as he breathed heavily. “I… I care so much—I… I really do.”

I just wish you could see that.

The words came out quieter than he expected.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Then his mother scoffed.

“If you cared, you’d go buy the damn bottle.”

Sukuna slowly closed his eyes.

And just like that, the little bit of softness disappeared.

“Fuck you.”

“You have ten minutes to get here or I'm calling the police.”

The silence that followed felt almost painfully loud.

He stood there for a few seconds, staring at the blank screen before shoving the phone into his pocket.

When he finally looked up, Uraume was watching him.

They were sitting upright now, another book held loosely in their hands.

“Is your Mom sick?” they asked, their eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

“...Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He sighed.

They nodded, opening the book and showing him a page they had found.

“Maybe you could give her Umeboshi,” they said. “The book says it’s good for stomachaches and puking. I-I don’t know about blood pressure, but maybe it can help too…” They trailed off.

Were they awake the entire argument?

“...We could go look for the flower and give it to her like a get-well gift,” they offered in the end, quickly adding, “Or you could make her tea.”

Sukuna stared at the flower on the page as if it could somehow solve all his problems for him.

“...I’ll think about it.”

Uraume seemed satisfied with that answer, picking the book back up and closing it.

“Sorry, but we have to go,” Sukuna sighed. “You can stay here, but I need to go home.”

“To take care of her?”

He stayed silent.

“Can I bring a few books with me?” they asked, giving him puppy eyes. 

Of course they couldn’t. They were living near trash, as far as Sukuna was concerned. There was no way those books would survive for long.

But seeing their big disappointed eyes…

“Sure,” he exhaled, much to their excitement.

“But only two. You got that? And they need to be in absolutely tip-top condition, or else the librarian here will eat me and all my money.”

Uraume smiled, already picking out two books.

As they went to the register, Sukuna took the books from them and handed them to the librarian. She gave Uraume one distrustful look, but when she recognized Sukuna, she relaxed.

“A flower book and, oh?” The woman scanned the second book, glancing at Uraume. “A cooking book? Do you like cooking?” 

Uraume nodded enthusiastically.

“Mommy says I’m very good!” they said. “I want to learn more and make her a lot of delicious meals.”

The librarian smiled warmly and gently patted their head. Uraume seemed to flinch at first, but immediately leaned into the touch.

“Aren’t you a cutie? I bet your Mom will love whatever you make for her.”

Uraume nodded as Sukuna handed the librarian his card.

Soon, they were on their way out.

They had barely made it outside when Uraume stopped and looked down at the jacket still hanging from their shoulders.

“Oh.”

They carefully shrugged it off, then held it out to Sukuna with both hands.

“Thank you.”

Sukuna took it back, draping it over his arm.

“Don't get all sentimental on me.”

The corners of Uraume’s mouth lifted, and they tucked the books a little closer against their chest as they fell back into step beside him. 

“So,” Sukuna said, glancing down at them as they continued walking, “you cook?”

Uraume’s gaze dropped to the books in their arms. Their fingers tightened around the covers. 

“Mommy and Daddy sometimes forget to make food, so I cook.” They shifted the books against their chest, almost as if making sure they couldn’t slip. 

“I-I’m not very good, but I want to learn.” Their eyes flicked up toward Sukuna for a moment before dropping again. “I want to learn more.”

Sukuna rolled one shoulder, adjusting his grip on his jacket.

“Sounds nice.”

Their footsteps filled the silence for a while.

Sukuna kept glancing down at Uraume from the corner of his eye. The kid obviously wanted to talk, and he felt like he should say something, but every possible response sounded stupid in his head.

Before he could settle on one, Uraume spoke again. 

“You don’t need to talk, you know?”

Sukuna’s eyebrows drew together.

“I get quiet when I’m sad too.” Uraume rubbed their thumb along the edge of one of the books, their voice growing softer. “It’s hard to breathe, and I like to be alone.”

They hesitated, then looked up at him.

“Your Mom made you sad, didn’t she? She sounded mean.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened.

“She is.”

Uraume took a few more steps before edging a little closer to his side. 

“Is she bullying you?”

“No.” Sukuna let out a quiet breath through his nose. “She’s just sick, like you said.”

Uraume nodded as if they understood.

As if anyone could understand him.

“I’m sorry.”

And that was it.

The rest of their walk passed in silence.

In the end, Sukuna completely forgot to ask if they could leave the books at his house so they wouldn't get damaged.

“You bought them food again?” Mahito raised an eyebrow.

Sukuna glanced up, holding three different sandwiches in his hands, along with several pieces of fruit and a few onigiri. After a while, he had learned that Uraume seemed to favor chicken sandwiches the most. Luckily for him, they were also the cheapest ones the store offered.

Food like that barely cost anything. Sukuna had simply transferred all the energy and money he used to spend on his mother toward Uraume instead, automatically giving them whatever was left over from school lunches and the snacks he bought at the buffet.

Overall, he barely spent more money than before. 

It was just better invested.

“It’s a fucking food.” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Then ask a better question.”

Sukuna angrily grabbed a nearby bottle of water and tossed it into the plastic bag.

Pushing past Mahito, he continued toward the register. Mahito groaned in annoyance, while Kenjaku came over to help him gather the rest of their things. When Kenjaku glanced at Sukuna, apparently expecting him to say something, Sukuna deliberately looked away.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Kenjaku sighed as he caught up with him. “You know you don’t have to take care of them, right?”

“I know,” Sukuna snapped defensively.

“Do you?”

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Sukuna frowned.

“You’re saving up for uni and moving out, remember?” Kenjaku rolled his eyes. “That shit isn’t cheap. You’ve been saving up for ages, and–”

“Oh, shut up. That’s none of your business.” Sukuna cut him off, though Kenjaku didn’t seem to care and continued anyway.

“And all this seems like a lot.” Kenjaku hummed. “Spending money on yourself is one thing, but a homeless kid? It’s not your responsibility.”

“Fuck off,” Sukuna rolled his eyes. “I’m getting into university on a sports scholarship. I’m a top student, my grades are the best in school, and I’ll cover the rest with the money I’ve saved.” 

He smiled, pulling out his card and holding it up for them to see. “This baby has my entire life savings. Enough for moving out and university. A few sandwiches and onigiri aren’t going to ruin it.”

Kenjaku looked at the card, then back at Sukuna.

“If you say so.”

Sukuna continued walking, deliberately ignoring the shelf stocked with alcohol.

“Oh, shit! Is that Suntory Whisky Toki?” Mahito suddenly cheered beside him. “I thought they were all out. Fuck, we’re lucky.”

Kenjaku looked through the bottles and hummed thoughtfully. Sukuna walked past them without slowing down.

“Yo, Sukuna!” Mahito called after him. “You think we could use your employee discount for this one?”

Sukuna kept walking.

A moment later, Mahito yelped somewhere behind him.

“Dude, you know better than to ask him when buying alcohol,” Kenjaku whispered.

“Chill out,” Mahito replied. Sukuna could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt to check.”

“Idiot,” Kenjaku muttered.

Sukuna walked out of the store, paid for the food, and left them behind.

He didn’t feel like hanging out with them when they got shit-faced drunk again.

Not that he blamed them or anything. Everyone their age drank. As far as he knew, he was the only outlier.

He didn’t hold it against them, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable being around them when they got drunk. He would rather do something more productive in the meantime.

He headed toward the modern part of town, ignoring the strange looks he received from a few people along the way. He went straight to the spot where he knew Uraume would be waiting.

But when he stopped near the trash can, they weren’t there.

Sukuna frowned and looked around.

“Uraume?”

A small pulse of panic ran through him.

They should have been there. They were always waiting for him.

The only explanation he could think of was that they had gotten into another fight, which wasn’t impossible, but the excuse was starting to get a little old after every single meet-up left them with freshly bruised skin.

Maybe their parent had gotten their hands on them and–

Something grabbed the back of his jacket.

Sukuna spun around sharply.

Uraume stood right behind him, clutching the fabric of his jacket with one hand and holding a flower in the other.

“This is for you,” they said, offering it to him.

Uraume held it out carefully, pinching the stem between two fingers. One of the petals was slightly bent, but they seemed determined not to let it fall.

Sukuna blinked, his heart slowly settling down after the brief burst of panic.

“It is?” he asked, tilting his head, instead of asking where the fuck they had learned to be so sneaky.

Uraume nodded.

“It’s dandelion,” Uraume said, carefully holding out the little yellow flower. “The book said it means hope.”

Sukuna looked at them, completely bewildered.

“Hope?”

Uraume nodded. 

“For your Mom.”

Sukuna stared at the flower, slowly turning it between his fingers.

“...You’re giving it to me, dumbass.”

Uraume blinked, as if the invisible wheels in their head had just started turning.

“Oh.” 

They thought about it for a moment, their eyes dropping to the flower.

“Then… for you.” They blinked. “You can give it to your Mom if you want.”

They had most likely picked it because it was the only flower they could still find in the increasingly colder weather. There was nothing particularly special about it. It was everywhere.

Sukuna stared at it for another moment before glancing back at Uraume.

They were watching him with those big, wide eyes. Were they expecting him to do something with it?

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll keep it safe?”

Uraume smiled, satisfied.

Sukuna carefully tucked the flower into the front pocket of his school backpack before pulling out one of the sandwiches he'd brought.

He held it out to Uraume.

They took it immediately and started eating.

“Where are the books by the way?” Sukuna asked.

“I hid them under the tree. They’re safe, I covered them with leaves.”

Sukuna looked toward the tree.

He wanted to go check them himself, but changed his mind.

The books would obviously get damaged eventually. Leaves weren't exactly waterproof, and the ground was already getting damp from the cold.

But Uraume looked so proud of themselves for taking care of them that he couldn't bring himself to ruin it.

“Don’t worry. I’m taking good care of them.” Uraume hummed, “I’m keeping them safe.”

Sukuna sighed.

“Sure. Keep it up,” he reached over and ruffled their hair. Uraume flinched slightly at the sudden touch, but then immediately leaned into his hand.

Sukuna paused for half a second.

Then he pulled his hand away and reached into his backpack instead. He took out a basketball and tossed it toward them.

Uraume caught it immediately, blinking down at the ball in surprise.

“I’m teaching you how to play.” 

Sukuna was already turning toward the nearest public court.

Uraume stood there for a few moments, apparently processing what he'd just said, before quickly following after him.

“I’ve never played basketball before,” they hummed, glancing suspiciously at the ball in their hands.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Sukuna shoved his hands into his pockets. “Besides, I represent my school. Just thought I should at least show you how to play so we have something to do when we meet up.”

Uraume seemed to think that over, a small smile tugging at their lips.

“...Thanks.”

Sukuna waved them off. 

“Nothing to thank me for.”

Uraume skipped after him.

After a few minutes of walking, they looked up at him.

“Are you good?” They tilted their head.

Sukuna genuinely barked out laughing.

“Good? Kid, I’m the best.” He kept laughing, throwing an arm around the air as if he were already giving an interview after winning some championship. 

“You couldn't have a better teacher. Well, maybe the Gojo idiot, but only because he’s such a sensitive-shit when it comes to little brats. He’s barely my equal–not even close to my level.”

Uraume watched him with wide eyes, letting him continue.

“When did you start playing?” they asked curiously.

“About the same age as you, I guess,” Sukuna shrugged. “Mom bought me a basketball and said, ‘Go get ‘em, tiger,’ and I did.”

His grin spread. 

“It also helps that I’m bigger than most people my age.” 

He kept on talking.

And talking.

And talking.

By the time they reached the court, Sukuna suddenly realized he’d been doing nothing but talking about basketball the entire way there.

The entire thirty-minute walk.

He stopped mid-step.

Never in Sukuna’s life had he talked for that long.

He slowly turned his head toward Uraume.

“Did you just keep asking me about basketball so I’d talk?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow.

Uraume looked up at him.

“You seemed happy,” they said softly. “I like when people are happy, and I wanted to learn more about you.”

Sukuna stared at them for a moment.

He didn’t think people like that were even real. 

Everyone loved talking about themselves. When someone claimed otherwise, they usually just wanted to be perceived as kind and mature. But looking at Uraume’s innocent, childlike face made him rethink that.

He looked away.

“...Weird kid.”

Uraume smiled.

They made their way toward the court, only to find the gate locked.

Sukuna clicked his tongue.

“Of course.”

He took off his backpack and threw it over the gate, followed by the basketball.

Then he grabbed the bars and started climbing.

Once he reached the top, he looked down.

“Well, come on.” he waved at them.

Uraume stared up at him.

“I'm not tall enough.”

Were they serious—

“I noticed,” Sukuna sighed, “You gotta climb.”

Uraume kept staring at him, tilting their head.

“But I don’t know how.”

“You live on the streets and don’t know how to climb?” 

“I don’t–” Uraume frowned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m coming for you.” He climbed back down halfway, and grabbed them under the arms.

“Hold on.”

He lifted them over the gate.

Uraume landed awkwardly on their feet and immediately stepped aside.

Sukuna followed, swinging one leg over the gate before dropping down beside them.

“So,” he said, dusting off his hands. “Let’s make a deal.”

Uraume tilted their head.

“I teach you the basics, we play a game, and I’ll give you some food and water that’ll last you a few days.”

Uraume nodded, though the hesitation in their expression was obvious.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.” Sukuna grinned. “You can have some chocolate afterward.”

“Chocolate?”

Their entire face brightened.

“Yep. Fresh from the school cafeteria.”

He picked up the basketball and spun it briefly on his finger.

“Now, let's go. This is one of the last days the weather is going to be this nice. Winter’s coming, and we can’t exactly play outside when it’s freezing, so let’s not waste the opportunity.”

His excitement must have rubbed off on Uraume because they slowly nodded and carefully picked up the basketball. Their small hands wrapped around it carefully, fingers struggling to find a comfortable grip as they looked up at Sukuna for further instructions. 

“Okay. So, why don’t you throw the ball to me first, hm?” Sukuna smiled, stepping back holding his hands out. “We can try dribbling later, but–”

Uraume threw the ball.

Straight into his crotch.

Sukuna froze.

For a brief, horrible moment, his entire body went completely rigid, his hands still hovering uselessly in front of him as his brain struggled to process what had just happened. Then a strangled noise escaped somewhere deep in his throat.

“–fuck.”

He doubled over, one arm wrapping around his stomach while the other immediately flew between his legs, his face twisting as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Uraume's eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry!”

They immediately dropped the ball and rushed toward him, hands shaking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I didn’t want to throw it at you—”

Sukuna sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, holding every curse he could think of behind them.

“I thought we were over this?” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Uraume stopped.

“Quit apologizing. It’s annoying.”

“I’m sorry—”

“I swear to god.”

“I mean—I didn’t want to…”

Uraume’s voice trailed off.

They clasped both hands together, desperately looking everywhere except at him.

Sukuna slowly straightened.

“What about we start with posture, huh?”

Uraume looked at him, their big eyes ticking between the ball, his face and his crotch.

“Stop looking so nervous. It’s making me nervous.” Sukuna frowned. “Great, now I’m nervous. Amazing.”

Uraume blinked.

“Uh…”

“Alright, change of plans.” Sukuna sighed, rubbing his face. “Breathing exercises it is.”

Uraume stared at him with an expression of complete confusion.

It was safe to say they looked more confused than nervous.

At least that was an improvement.