Chapter Text
If there’s one thing Ryoumen Sukuna hates more than anything, it’s boredom. It itches at his skin, makes him crazed and impulsive. He didn’t earn his titles, power, and immortality as a curse by waiting for something to come along. He had to find the interesting bits in his life, make it come to him, taste it, make it bleed. Burn it, crush it beneath his feet.
He’d existed long enough now that his firsts felt like distant memories. The first village he burned, the first time he killed. Everything was growing tedious, with his reputation spreading like the fires that sprung easily from his hands. One of the only good things about that was the reaction from sorcerers, inept and weak as they were. They would come at him in passionate throngs, desperate to be the first to stop his destruction of villages and families. He loved it, watching their faces twist with determination until they realized they were in too deep. Witnessing the exact moment their faces fall, cough and spurt blood with their last breath.
It was this sensation exactly that he yearned for as he headed into the mountains, towards one of the villages nestled near the peaks. He was beyond complacent now, itching for something even remotely different from his past experiences. There was a river that fell from the top and drifted all the way down to the plains below, and the first snows of the year had just fallen, Sukuna’s footsteps marked with each crunch of ice beneath his feet.
Sukuna knew he would stick out against the snowy mountainside, with his four arms, bulking frame, wild hair, black markings, and extra pairs of eyes along his face. This wasn’t an issue, since there was no reason to hide. No amount of extra time or preparation would keep the village from being destroyed. Perhaps if the village had good enough food from its river, he’d spare it.
With the first bursts of flame turning the village’s gate into crackling tinder, Sukuna watched languidly as the villagers scrambled to escape. A few villagers hastily joined together into some kind of formation at the entrance, trying to create a barrier or something to withstand Sukuna’s brute strength. A total of four sorcerers against him. Sukuna let out a sigh of disappointment. This wouldn’t take long at all.
After the sorcerers had been dealt with at the village’s edge, Sukuna made his way through, looking for any stragglers. The village was seemingly empty, despite there being no possible path or escape route so high up in the mountains. He’d just have to find them. Sukuna continued to walk until he heard something crunch in the snow behind him.
He turned around to see someone staring down at the sorcerers, still bleeding and smoking in the white ice. Their facial expression was inscrutable, and he squinted. There was no look of anguish, fear or righteous anger. Sukuna stepped closer.
“Have you come to join your fallen friends?” Sukuna said, his voice carrying along the crisp air.
A huff of breath was the response from them, the white plume disappearing as quickly as it had come. Sukuna took in their face, their white hair cut neatly along their chin, the red that wrapped around it. Their eyes were dark pink, a startling contrast to the white and gray around them, awash in the sun trying to peek through the clouds.
“I would not call them my friends, my lord.” They said after a moment, their voice serene.
Sukuna raised his eyebrows, surprise making him pause. Supplication wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but he wasn’t expecting this sort of treatment after killing the village’s sorcerers.
“What would you call them?”
The person shrugged, their robes rising and falling with the motion. The colors of it were plain, the dyes much less expensive than the ones that colored Sukuna’s clothing, but even so, they made the garment look regal. They were small, barely reaching Sukuna’s hip. Most humans were smaller than him, but none so small had a gaze like that. Something flickered behind their eyes, but it vanished with a blink of their eyelashes.
“Merely people who lived in the same village as me.” They said after a moment, their eyes meeting Sukuna’s before falling into a bow. “I have no intention of joining them.”
Sukuna watched as they fell into a bow, their knees sinking into the snow. As he stepped closer, he felt the cursed energy radiating off of them, the power of their technique humming beneath the surface.
“What do you intend to do then?” Sukuna wondered if this was a ploy, something to distract him before they sprang to action.
Still in a bow, they lifted their head, their white hair framing their face.
“I wanted to share my admiration, my lord. I’ve heard stories about you, and I had been hoping that I would get to see your power for myself.” Their words were spoken calmly, but Sukuna could hear the awe within it.
Sukuna crossed his arms, taking in this surprising human. They were so small, but their eyes were piercing with their icy gaze, their shoulders stiff with restraint. He’d had humans bow to him before, beg for their lives, pass offerings and gifts in a desperate attempt to appease him. He’d had offerings, and had been revered. But not by someone so…intriguing, and graceful.
“What’s your name?”
“Uraume.” They remained bowed, straight as an arrow, emanating regality and self-control as their village was about to be destroyed.
“No family name?”
Uraume raised a degree off the ground, to regard him.
“If it pleases you, I would gladly lead to where the rest of the village hides. There’s a wooden bunker hidden further up the mountains, for emergencies such as this, where the non-sorcerers go.” Uraume held his gaze, unwavering, awaiting a response. “Not that such a thing could protect them.”
Sukuna felt a laugh rise from him, amazed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that, without mirth or bloodthirsty intent.
“Why?” Sukuna was too shocked to care about the bareness of the question. “You would give up your family’s chance of survival?”
Uraume twitched at the word, curiosity digging its teeth deeper into Sukuna the longer he was in their presence.
“They’re weak and stuck in their traditions.” Uraume said simply, words cutting like ice. “They are not my family.”
Sukuna felt a toothy grin spread across his face. He gestured towards the mountain.
“In that case, lead the way.”
—
Sukuna’s skin prickled at the gasps and shrieks that he was met with as he opened the door to the bunker, Uraume standing behind him, hands clasped neatly behind them. Frightened eyes caught the light spilling in through the open door, and Sukuna smoothly cleaved off the heads of a few squealing in the corner, burning the structure. Rather than watching the results of his power, Sukuna kept his gaze trained on Uraume. They didn’t peel their eyes away from the flames until there was nothing but smoking wood and scalded bones.
Uraume’s body remained still and steady, no signs of fear or anxiety despite their entire village existing now as nothing but ash.
“You are free to go.” Sukuna said, the words coming out of him before he could think.
Uraume blinked, out of their trance, and dipped their head.
“Forgive my insolence, my lord, but I would like to remain with you. I would like to learn under you, and support you in your endeavors.”
Sukuna felt something new tug at him, a twinge in his gut. Something deeper than surprise. Something thrillingly new.
“I must say, I’ve never had a companion before.”
“While I am nowhere as powerful as you, my lord, I am a sorcerer, so I am able to hold my own against whoever threatens you. I will make sure I do not slow you down.” Uraume said, the serenity of their face contrasting the firmness of their words.
A grin tugged at the sides of Sukuna’s mouth. He would never believe or entertain such boldness from a sorcerer, yet their cool demeanor and gaze had a sort of power of their own. Sukuna could also sense the strength and control emanating from them, despite knowing nothing about their specific techniques.
“Then I have no reason to refuse.” Sukuna said, in utter disbelief at how much had changed since the morning.
“Thank you, my lord.” Uraume lifted their head.
Looking pleased, Uraume wordlessly followed Sukuna down the mountain.
In the morning, Sukuna had felt restless and bored. Now, he felt satisfied, listening to his mystery of a companion follow close behind him in the snow.
—
Sukuna had never felt self-conscious before, but he felt something akin to it now that he had a companion. His life contained none of the stability that a human requires, like constant shelter, food, heat, safety. Sukuna had to parse through his foggy memories of human life to remember what it was that Uraume would need. They, he was learning quickly, would prefer to suffer in silence than to inconvenience him.
A few days later, as stars started to sprinkle across the sky, Uraume poked at the campfire they had built with sticks and tinder. Knocking rocks together and urging a flame out.
Sukuna lifted an arm, spreading flame to the fire pit. Uraume stepped back expectantly, the flames climbing in the sky and glinting in their dark pink eyes.
“Thank you,” Uraume said, gathering their bedroll and moving it closer to the fire.
“Why were those sorcerers the ones protecting your village?” Sukuna looked around the peaks of the flames to stare at Uraume directly, to try to meet their gaze. “You’re stronger. I can tell.”
Uraume’s face, the easiness that had melted into it the past few days, changed at the mention of the village. Sukuna faltered, realizing it might be a sore spot for them. They were all too eager to let the village burn, so it was obvious that they had mistreated them to some extent.
“The elders of the village weren’t fond of my technique.” Uraume said after a few beats of silence, the words soft as the fire cracked and spat.
Sukuna looked at them expectantly, and watched as Uraume turned the flames to a piercing bouquet of shards of ice. Sukuna whistled, looking at the jagged structure.
“We already lived in a village of ice along the mountains, so the elders weren’t pleased. The other sorcerers had more dynamic skills, and looked more promising. More intimidating.”
Sukuna thought of them now, a blur of pointless anger and mediocre sorcery, now nothing. Knowing that they had made Uraume feel inferior, a twinge of warmth spread throughout him at the thought of justice being swiftly delivered to them. If he had known what Uraume was telling him now, he would have given them a more painful death.
“I don’t agree.”
“In what way, my lord?”
“I think you’re terrifying.” Sukuna said as he scratched the nape of his neck, the firelight catching the shadows of his arms.
Uraume twitched, their face squashing something that nearly rose to the surface. Sukuna melted the ice, coaxing the fire to return to keep them warm. Sukuna didn’t need such things, but he had no desire to have Uraume freeze to death. After a moment, Sukuna noted in a detached part of his mind that the firelight complimented Uraume’s eyes nicely. He blinked, realizing he was staring.
“Is that why you let me join you?” Uraume’s eyes remained on the fire, tracking towards Sukuna's face every so often just to return to the flames.
“You surprised me. Anyone who saw what I did would fall to their knees, begging for their life, or curse me to death for burning their home to the ground. But not you.”
Uraume looked like they weren’t expecting that answer, sitting up straighter beside the flames.
“I’ve always hated weak people.” Uraume said in lieu of a response, making Sukuna chuckle.
“I always thought that weakness was just part of being human. I was wrong, obviously.” Sukuna said, leaning on two of his elbows.
They fell into a companionable silence, and after a pause Sukuna felt more words fall out of his mouth.
“Did they hurt you? The villagers?”
Uraume grew still, eyes frozen in thought. They clenched their jaw, then relaxed it after Sukuna’s eyes caught it. After a moment, Uraume slightly jutted their chin. A curt nod. Sukuna dug a sharp nail into the ice, slicing along the cold.
“Then they deserved what I did to them. Not that I care much about who deserves death or not.” Sukuna said, for some reason now feeling unable to meet Uraume’s eyes.
In the soft wavering glow of the fire, Uraume smiled. It was a wicked thing, sharp enough to draw blood to some, but to Sukuna it felt as warm as the firepit.
—
Sukuna never really planned where he would end up. He would just wander, or follow the stories and words of other humans, and try to find something interesting. Sukuna now has another person to consider. He never worries about himself, but now he has someone else that has a whole slew of conditions to worry about. Being fed, having enough water, staying warm, resting.
Weeks passed, something that Sukuna only now realized because Uraume kept track of it. Time mixed with immortality was like water and oil; the normal cycles of life slid off of him as he existed century to century. Sukuna couldn’t tell if Uraume’s attention to this was because of their meticulous nature, or if it was a human habit. Sukuna remembered Uraume marking the movements of the constellations and shape of the moon when the skies were clear.
One morning, Sukuna woke from a light doze to the smell of food roasting over the fire in a thin pan. He hadn’t taken anything from the village they had passed through the night before, hadn’t really thought to do so, so he couldn’t hold back his surprise.
“What are you cooking?” Sukuna said as he stretched, his shoulders tense.
“Some herbs, vegetables I gathered.”
“When did you take that pan?”
Uraume smiled slightly, tilting the gleaming pan so Sukuna could see it.
“Yesterday, from one of the kitchens.”
“Good work. We can find a place with something better to cook with than a fire.”
Uraume perked at the praise, their movements easy and humming slightly as they worked. Sukuna brought his nails through his hairs, feeling a familiar calm wash over him. Watching them when they weren’t looking was currently his favorite activity. Uraume got so focused on whatever task they were doing that they never caught him doing it. That unfortunately ended after a few minutes when they held out the finished meal.
“They won’t have that much flavor to them without spices, my lord. My apologies.”
Sukuna picked one of the roots up, chewing on it.
“None needed, Uraume. You cooked something better with a pan and a fire than I’ve been able to in my entire existence.”
Uraume’s mouth twitched, their eyes meeting Sukuna’s.
“I think someone of your stature deserves to eat better than this. I had no idea you were so poorly equipped.”
“Since I’m immortal, I have no real need to eat anymore.” Sukuna said, feeling embarrassed, wiping his mouth. “You’re making me rethink that.”
Uraume held the pan out again, and Sukuna shook his head, offering the rest to them.
“No, you eat. We have a lot of walking to do today. The next village isn’t for a few miles.”
Uraume nodded dutifully, accepting this. That was another thing about Sukuna that surprised him. While Sukuna was entirely selfish, Uraume was selfless. Wholly devoted. Sukuna wasn’t used to sharing a plan with someone, having someone to live with. He was solitary, grew tired of people quickly, normally left the women and men he fucked as quickly as he came. He wasn’t used to permanence, routine.
Immortality needs some excitement and surprise, he supposed.
—
“Is this a kitchen suitable for the king of curses?” Sukuna said, sweeping his four arms around the grand kitchen, now that the nobility of the house had been effectively cleared out.
“Is this ours now?” Uraume padded into the kitchen, as if the ghosts of those who had been killed would come back to claim it.
“For the time being.” Sukuna said. “Unless you’d rather give it back to its proper owners?”
Uraume snorted, which Sukuna considered a victory. They’d been together for weeks now, and it seemed to be Sukuna’s daily task to break the polite wall of complacency, servitude and inscrutable calm Uraume nearly always held. He liked watching their face as they tried to look unaffected by one of Sukuna’s jokes.
“What would you prefer to eat?” Uraume fluttered about the kitchen, pulling out utensils and dry ingredients.
Sukuna had been ignoring this particular topic for a bit.
“I’m not sure if you want to know.”
Uraume paused in their preparation, their hair following the confused jerk of their head.
“If you mean what I assume, my lord, I already know.”
Sukuna blinked. He’d been dreading breaching the topic of cannibalism, unsure of what their reaction would be. Uraume had the composure of someone discussing the weather.
“The stories of you didn’t leave out much detail.”
Sukuna scratched behind his ear, feeling the closest thing to embarrassment the King of Curses could feel. Uraume glanced upward, taking in Sukuna’s face. He could feel how it twisted against his control, and Uraume spoke quicker than usual, their eyes wild.
“There was nothing that was untrue. They spoke of your strength, your ruthlessness.”
“And my penchant for eating humans. Don’t forget that.” Sukuna said, ignoring the muted dread that followed.
“Yes, I had heard of that as well.” Uraume turned from their fussing in the kitchen and faced Sukuna completely.
Sukuna swallowed, completely out of his element. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this type of worry talking to anyone, silently hanging onto every word. There must be something in their eyes, Sukuna decided, the stunning color and strength behind them holding him firmly in place.
Uraume turned away from him again. This was it. This was when they reminded Sukuna why he worked alone, existed alone.
“If that is what my lord prefers, then I have no problem with that.” Sukuna frowned, listening for any hesitance or fear, but he heard none. “The taste must have something to it.”
Sukuna stood there, as shocked as he could be, living in a world so equally strange and boring as theirs. He knew Uraume was loyal, but would anyone else’s allegiance go this far? He almost felt concerned on Uraume’s behalf, if he wasn’t so bemused and intrigued.
Sukuna left to see if there were any stragglers that could be used for their meal, and when he returned a little while later, blood covering his arms and face, Uraume prepared the meat. He sat folded on the floor, watching, since he was utterly useless in the kitchen. Not that his four arms and bulking frame made it easy to do so, or his thick hands and long nails. Uraume was quick and precise, focusing on the tasks before them the way Sukuna would plan his massacres.
When Uraume finished, the meat now in a stew full of spices and vegetables, they looked up and saw the blood covering Sukuna.
“My lord,” Uraume said, soaking a spare cloth and wiping his face and arms.
Sukuna watched, stunned again into silence by his companion.
“Unable to cook, covered in blood,” Uraume said with a tut, doling out portions of stew in clean white bowls they had found in storage. “How did you live all those years before me?”
Sukuna held the bowl to his lips, pouring the spicy warmth down his throat, and felt his whole body rejoice. The raw meat he would gorge himself on every so often was quickly losing its appeal with every bite.
“Not very well, apparently.” Sukuna said, struggling not to inhale the stew so he could actually taste it.
Uraume’s face twitched, bowing their head over the stew. The sun was starting to set outside, the light spilling across the table and their faces, drenching them in orange, purple, red. Sukuna swore he caught one of Uraume’s secret smiles.
—
Uraume wasn’t attached to material things. They didn’t seem attached to anything other than Sukuna and his word. Whenever Sukuna asks what he can give them, Uraume always answers the same.
“Nothing, my lord.”
Sukuna felt unsatisfied by that answer. Mystified by it. Whenever he was with his women, they always loved the hairpins and perfumes he bought them. For his men, it was a little more varied, but he would get them gifts as well. Yes, he would kill most of them when they bored him or became too troublesome, but they couldn’t say he didn’t treat them lavishly when they were alive.
Uraume seemed unaffected by most things other humans would. What did Sukuna offer?
When Sukuna and Uraume were looking for a new place to stay, Sukuna felt his steps falter near the whorehouse. He glanced at Uraume, gauging their reaction. Uraume’s eyes passed over the women showing through the flashes of candlelight and curtains. Their eyes lingered on a woman with light hair, a tall woman whose legs and arms hung nicely out of her silk robes. Plenty to keep a bed warm. Sukuna hummed to himself. Uraume had never mentioned their tastes, but their eyes lingered on the woman until they passed.
“What is to be done with this village?” Uraume said airily, walking a few paces ahead of Sukuna.
More precisely, Are we going to let this village be, or burn it to the ground?
“Well, what do you think we should do?” Sukuna held two of his arms against the back of his neck.
“My lord?” Uraume’s brow furrowed, twisting their face, something that Sukuna found he liked as well.
Sukuna gestured around to the buildings around them, a small fishing village. The sea was close, and the nights were slowly getting longer.
“I’m feeling particularly uninspired at the moment, Uraume.”
They nodded, all business and agreement again, taking Sukuna’s whims as they came. The village, they decided, was useful. There was a good amount of food, the human and non-human kind both, and there was a large market where goods were traded, goods that would be hard for them to find in their travels.
Sukuna was impulsive, for the most part, existing from moment to moment. The only constant was Uraume. They had become a sort of diplomat and bodyguard for Sukuna, dealing with the more human affairs of their lifestyle. Asking around, talking to inn owners, planning their routes. The bodyguard part was something they had insisted on, even if Sukuna reminded them he had lived for years on his own. Uraume could be quite stubborn when they wanted to be.
“Someone should be protecting you, as important as you are. As revered as you are.”
“Not sure if all the people I’ve killed agree with that.”
“Well, since they are dead, their opinions are of no importance.”
A laugh burst out of him, echoing down the streets. Uraume’s shoulders raised slightly after that.
—
They rented a loft for a few nights while they planned where to go next. Uraume had gotten a map from one of the elders. Whether they asked to borrow the map or stole it, Sukuna didn’t ask. Uruame was in their room now, marking possible locations, sightings of other sorcerers and curses. Meticulous as always.
Sukuna had been feeling restless, and wandered down to the whorehouse. The entire village knew of his presence now, and considering he hadn’t yet killed them all, he knew they would be eager to please him. Rumors followed him as closely as his shadow.
He felt the glinting pairs of eyes flickering and washing over him in the dim light as he entered the brothel. The incense and darkness reminded him of the earlier days of his existence, when he spent each night with throngs of prostitutes and whores to pass the time and meet his insatiable lust. He hadn’t given into this particular vice in months, having been entirely focused on adjusting to life with his new companion. He smoked something that was offered to him, by someone with nimble fingers, thinking of them now. Uraume bent over their work, always by his side.
He reached his arm out to get the attention of the tall woman Uraume had been eying earlier.
“You. Come with me.”
—
Sukuna knocked on Uraume’s door, seeing their shadow behind the glass and hearing some shuffling around before they pulled aside sliding the door, their eyes bright.
“Master Sukuna,” Uraume said, their eyes remaining on him. “Is there anything you need?”
“No, I actually got you something.”
Uraume’s face twisted, opening the door fully.
“You got me something?”
“Yes, for everything you’ve done for me.” Sukuna took their hand, careful to make sure his nails didn’t pierce their skin.
Uraume’s skin, normally cold to the touch due to their technique, felt warm in his hands. He felt the loss as soon as he let them go, pulling aside the door to his room. The woman from the whorehouse, with a name Sukuna had forgotten on the walk over, lay on some cushions spread along the floor. She smiled at Uraume, who bristled, standing straight as a nail.
Sukuna glanced at Uraume, who now had their face schooled into a wall, not even one of complacency, one of nothing.
“My lord, I don’t understand.” Uraume’s words were tight, their lips a firm line.
Sukuna sensed he had misstepped, so he elaborated, floundering.
“I saw you staring at her earlier. And you’re so important to me, and you don’t like gifts, so I figured, well.” Sukuna’s words fell flat as he took in Uraume’s face, growing darker by the second.
Their eyes had been bright and expectant when they had opened the door, but now Sukuna felt everything in him sink as they spun into a darkness he had never seen. Uraume swiftly turned around, the sharp movement of their hair slicing the air like a knife. They shuffled back towards their room.
Sukuna followed desperately, his footsteps knocking loudly against the wood as Uraume’s quickly padded away from him. He was always used to hearing their steps, but now they were getting further from him. His stomach lurched, and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Sukuna stood at their door, and Uraume glanced back at him, their hand holding the door open, eyes burning like coals.
“Uraume,” Sukuna said, sounding more like a desperate puff of air than a name.
Uraume’s eyes could set the loft on fire. In the swathes of red and pink in their eyes, Sukuna could see the villages he burned, the people he killed, the blood that covered his hands and coated his throat as he drank them whole. This was the Uraume he had first met, staring at the fallen sorcerers of their village impassively, looking to Sukuna and putting the last tinders to the flame.
“Is that what you think I want?” Uraume sharply raised their hand towards his room, letting it slap against their hip, the silk of their robe rippling. “That I am only willing to stay beside you if rewarded properly?”
Sukuna shifted slightly.
“You never want anything. I felt you deserved something.”
Uraume’s eyes lifted from their spot on the floor, the space of wood between Sukuna’s bare feet and their sandals. The fire was gone, now there was ice within their gaze as they regarded him. The wall that kept Uraume’s laughter and smiles now rose behind their eyes. Sukuna felt sick.
“And that is what I deserve? Since I so clearly want nothing, this was what you decided I needed? A prostitute?”
Sukuna lifted a hand and scrubbed his face, exhaling. He was really an idiot.
Uraume began to pull the sliding door closed, and Sukuna felt something stir in him that he had never felt. He knew the feeling, heard humans speak about it or wail about it in their final words, but now he felt it himself. Guilt. They stopped the door a few inches before it closed, focusing on Sukuna’s chin rather than his eyes. Uraume always looked at him when they spoke, and Sukuna deflated.
“I was looking at her because she reminded me of you. I remember you saying you liked taller women once.”
Sukuna felt his face heat as he remembered the conversation, a flash of one of their many conversations in travel, indoors, by firelight, in the dark. Sukuna opened his mouth, and Uraume closed the door.
The light-haired woman stood at the door of Sukuna’s room, leaning her frame against it.
“Is there anything I can do for you, my lord?” Her voice was sweet and syrupy, sticking like a vice to the air that felt cold and stiff now, with Uraume stewing and hurt behind the door.
Hearing that phrase in her mouth was enough.
“You have thirty seconds to leave.”
She was gone in twenty-nine. Sukuna counted.
—
Sukuna rarely slept, as it was more of a way to deal with boredom than a necessity, and it especially evaded him that night. He stared at his door, waiting for some sign of life down the hall. A shuffle of movement, a breath. He heard nothing, and the morning came as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He squinted and rose.
Sukuna shuffled outside into the hall, hovering before the door like a child.
“My lord, the weather is not suitable for travel today.”
Sukuna jumped, feeling caught.
“Understood.” Sukuna said, his throat scratchy and dry. “Thank you, Uraume.”
Sukuna lingered for a few moments more, and when he knew they weren’t going to say anything else, they went outside. The rain was coming down in sheets, the wind tugging at his robes and hair. Weather was the least of his concerns.
—
Sukuna had wandered the village from beginning to end, the laughter of children and women safe and warm within their homes barely reaching him. He had never been in this situation before. Uraume had been with him for a few seasons now, and they had never argued. They existed and worked in tandem, and now that the balance was disrupted, Sukuna was beyond lost.
Sighing, Sukuna walked in the direction of the loft, knowing he was thoroughly soaked. He’d most certainly have to run his own bath, with Uraume refusing to leave their room. It felt wrong to have Uraume assist him at all when they were putting such distance between them. The worst part of it was that Sukuna couldn’t necessarily blame them.
He still struggled to understand Uraume’s willingness to follow him, and instead of respecting that and letting the matter lie, he probably was making them regret it. Perhaps they were using the map to plan an escape from him, from this life that they had created.
Feeling hollow, Sukuna entered the loft, the hallway darkened, both bedroom doors left ajar. Sukuna felt his muscles tense, sensing a strong amount of cursed energy just dissipating in the air. Something had happened. Not bothering to remove his soaked through clothes and sandals, Sukuna quickly strode down the hall, turning into Uraume’s open door.
Their room was empty. There was a hole torn in the material of the wall. The map Uraume had laid out on a low table was covered with ink from knocked over jars, staining the paper and wood. Other than that, nothing else was different. Sukuna looked wildly about the room. Did they leave? Was this their departure from his life for good?
Reeling, Sukuna threw aside the door of his bedroom, the door ripped off its hinges. It didn’t fucking matter, he could kill the old woman who had rented them the loft. His hands twitched at his sides, nails glinting in the dark. He needed to tear into something, he needed to do something to stop the tearing he felt within him, wild and hurt.
Sukuna looked wildly about his room, feeling like an animal turned loose. He couldn’t hear his own breathing, feel anything within his skin. His neck jerked to each corner, looking for any sign or letter or note. He stopped.
There were shards of ice along the wall, frost filling the room. Formed in the same sharp, jagged edges of Uraume’s technique. On the floor, something he would have caught with his nose alone if he hadn’t felt so crazed, made his body seize up. Blood.
Sukuna sprinted out of the loft, kicking the front door down in his blind haste. The splintered wood littered the ground. He felt cursed energy, and the thrumming of sorcerers, and he lunged with each movement towards it. He had no idea what to expect, and his whole body sang with adrenaline.
Turning one of the corners, dirt and lingering snow sticking to his sandals, he found them. He saw Uraume, leaning against a wall, breathing heavily. Uraume heard his steps and whipped around, their arms poised to attack.
Sukuna moved towards them, hesitant as he remembered their conversation. When he saw Uraume’s face, he froze. Blood spattered their hair, thick and dark along their cheeks, spilling onto their garments.
Sukuna shuffled, still full of energy and worry. Sukuna reached out a hand, taking the blood from their face onto his skin. Uraume leaned into the touch slightly, a flutter of warmth against his hand. A brief moment passed before Uraume pulled away, as if remembering their anger. Sukuna saw the bodies behind them, their blood soaking through the ice. Ice shards as deadly as glaciers impaled the three sorcerers, some of them completely encased in it. The moon shone on the deadly structures.
“Are you alright?” Sukuna’s words shook with something he couldn’t name. He felt nearly hysteric.
“Yes, my lord,” Uraume sucked in a breath, eyes closing before stepping back. “I’m fine.”
“What happened?” Sukuna tried to keep his voice level, despite the energy and emotion coursing through him.
“A few sorcerers from the adjoining village heard of our arrival. They came to challenge you. They did not pay much heed to what has been said about you.”
Sukuna nodded, his chest still heaving. The village around them was relatively quiet, which made him feel even more wired. He needed to tear into something.
“Clearly they were fools. You handled them well.” Sukuna jerked his head in the direction of the corpses.
Uraume would normally cheer up at the compliment, but they remained still.
“Uraume,” Sukuna’s voice was thick and raspy, but still he tried to speak. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Uraume blinked, saying nothing. Sukuna felt his hopes sink further downward. He had created a chasm between them with his ignorance. Uraume opened their mouth to say something, but Sukuna sensed someone behind them, his arms whipping out, poised to attack.
Another sorcerer stood before them, shaking with either rage or fear. Sukuna didn’t care. It was a young man, barely out of his youth, his face twisted with hatred towards the both of them. Sukuna was almost grateful for the interruption, giving him something to channel his crackling energy into. His face was murky in the dark, the houses clustered in the alley spilling shadows onto the ground as the clouds shrouded the moon.
“Sukuna!” The sorcerer yelled, putting their hands up in a defensive barrier. “You destroyed my village, and I am here to avenge it.”
Sukuna glanced at Uraume, and then back at the sorcerer, quivering with emotion.
“Do you think you’re the first to say that to me?” Sukuna said flatly, Uraume’s muffled snort giving him a whisper of hope.
The sorcerer stepped into the light, and Uraume froze, eyes wide. A flash of recognition passed over his face, covered in sweat and dirt, and Uraume pinched their fingers together, looking ready to send ice shards stabbing through him. His eyes narrowed, a vein bulged in his neck in barely suppressed rage.
“I heard the King of Curses had a loyal dog following him, but I didn’t think it was you. The stupid bitch that gave up our village.”
Uraume flinched, the most vulnerability Sukuna had seen from them since they had met. That was enough. Sukuna felt the world spin and pulse as he moved forward and dug his nails into the sorcerer’s neck, the sorcerer struggling in his grasp like a fish, nails not deep enough to draw blood.
“I’ll fucking kill him right here if you want. Calling them that in front of me. I don’t believe you had the brains to survive this long.” Sukuna’s voice shook with the rage from earlier, breathing hard now that he had something to direct it to.
He felt the blood vessels squirming under his grip, and he wanted to squeeze until his head burst, tear into him with his nails and burn the scraps. No one had ever disrespected Uraume in front of him before, and he felt the blind need to break everything. Make every human, sorcerer or not, squash beneath him as he tore the world into ribbons. Blood drenching every inch of him until he was hot with it.
Uraume put a hand on Sukuna’s arm, and Sukuna blinked, looking down. Their steely gaze was distant, trained on the sorcerer but still out of reach. Looking through him, back at some memory that he couldn’t see. Sukuna dropped him in disgust, watching him land in a pathetic heap of limbs as he gasped for breath again.
“I did not give up the village.” Uraume said, their voice raw. “I heard Master Sukuna was tearing the villages near us apart, and I prayed that he would come. When he came, my prayers were answered. He burned it all and I helped. I will continue to help him until my last breath.”
Uraume held their palm against the sorcerer’s neck, who was trembling after their words, purple marks around his neck from Sukuna’s grip.
“I will kill you with the technique the elders scorned so much.” Uraume let the ice pierce through his neck, blood gurgling out of his neck as he writhed.
They both watched as the sorcerer sagged onto the ice, blood dripping onto the ground in a thick heap. Uraume stared at him, as if waiting for him to spring to life again. Sukuna took a few steps back, the sound of it pulling them out of their daze. Uraume looked up at him expectantly, eyes blank, looking worn.
“You are not a loyal dog to me.” Sukuna said, hoping his face looked earnest. “No one will ever disrespect you like that again.”
Uraume, who had looked at him with such disconnect and hurt the night before, smiled at him with warmth in their eyes, his ire cooling at the sight.
Uraume glanced over their shoulder at the dead sorcerers left in their wake.
“What should we do with them? I have been thinking of some new recipes lately.” Uraume said, the beginnings of a confidential grin pulling at their mouth.
Sukuna glared at their bodies, their vacant eyes and frozen limbs. He spit in their direction.
“Leave them for the villagers to find. We deserve better filth than this.”