Chapter Text
There had been a strange feeling dwelling in Sukuna's chest that day.
A sense of foreboding. An unshakable inkling that prophesied what was to come. Yet, despite his better judgment, he hadn't listened. No. Instead he had been foolish, selfish, careless.
That morning, Yuuji had awoken with a lazy casual stretch.
He looked like a content kitten, bundled up underneath thick layers of colorful blankets to fight the harsh chill of the Japanese fall weather. Even the tip of his nose had been flushed pink, cold to the touch and adorably frigid.
"Sukuna." He whispered through the darkness, blinking the sleep from his eyes and rolling across the creaky old mattress. In spite of all the years that passed, their grandfather still refused to buy them a new one. Cheap bastard.
Somewhere along the lines, sharing a bed eventually became habit. What started as a childish fear of the dark slowly morphed into a full co-dependency. A reliance on that comforting presence underneath the rising sun of early dawn.
Innocence became futile. Feelings deepened. Taboo desires took hold of rational thought.
Many years ago, the concept of brotherhood had been sullied. Tarnished with a large smearing brush that ruined a perfect canvas—spiraling them into territory they could never return from. Kisses were exchanged, Sukuna couldn't even remember who crossed the line first, but since then they'd never looked back.
They'd formed an odd relationship. Something akin to dating yet left completely unspoken. At the time balancing that life had felt like creeping across a frozen lake, inching his way over the ice before it crumbled.
Maintaining the misplaced equilibrium between both brother and semi-boyfriend.
How fickle the troubles of teenage romance were in comparison to the current day.
"What?" Sukuna had answered him. His voice sounded low and gruff in spite of the gentle morning glow.
Birds whistled from outside the window, coaxing them from a tender slumber. A stream of sunlight bathed the room, emphasizing the muscular curve of Yuuji's back. It seemed that all the useless sports practices he attended after school were paying off. Even if he had been ditching Sukuna lately to make time for them.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Yuuji whispered childishly, the slightest toothy gap showing in his boyish smile. His hazel eyes looked like melted chocolate, thick lashes fluttering as he leaned closer.
"Dunno, brat." Raising both hands above his head to indulge in a stretch of his own, Sukuna let out a low groan following the satisfying crick of his neck. "Old man probably forgot to send grocery money for the week."
Suddenly, a hand roughly smacked against his shoulder. It was enough to properly rouse him from the semi-sleepy state he'd been carefully nursing. His brother clearly hadn't appreciated that type of joke, and an earful about his ingratitude seemed to be incoming.
"He's still in treatment right now. They said it may affect his memory." A deep pout quickly replaced Yuuji's giddy grin. "Don't be so mean."
In spite of how their grandfather had raised them with a cold heart and a clipped tone, his brother's sympathy seemed endless. Even after all these years, that childlike optimism refused to fade. Such a genuine quality seemed equally annoying as it was endearing.
"I know." Sukuna murmured, reaching forward to affectionate smooth away any stray hair from Yuuji's eyes. "He'll be fine. He's too stubborn for his own good."
Only his brother could unveil this tender side of him. Coaxing whatever traces of sentiment remained in Sukuna's icy cold heart with two warm palms and a sunny smile. For Yuuji, he would do anything. Even if the request stretched miles outside of his comfort zone.
"… Okay." Yuuji's voice came out in a soft huff as he nosed at the pillow underneath his chin.
The patterned sheets donning the bed were a set they'd had since childhood. A generic splatter of blue polka-dots against a forest green background. Although it was a painful eyesore, the gaudy decorations had been a gift from their late parents.
Their parents had been soulmates.
Two people tied together by the red string of fate, indicated only by the matching tattoos across their skin. The marks often appeared throughout the late teenage years to early adulthood, manifesting sooner depending on the proximity of both soulmates. Yet, despite sounding like a fantasy come to life, such an intensive bond came with substantial risks.
Spending a prolonged amount of time apart could often prove to be fatal at worst and debilitating at best for soulmates. Waskue had witnessed the effects firsthand on the day their mother had vanished into obscurity, barely able to shield his only son from the madness. Watching as he withered away to nothing more than a barely functional skeleton.
Yuuji hadn't remembered that time, but Sukuna did.
Therefore, he found it difficult to argue when his brother peered at him with those round doe eyes and insisted they keep the present.
Though it was tricky to argue with Yuuji over any topic in general.
To most people: neighbors, classmates or family friends, Sukuna remained nothing more than a nuisance. They considered him cocky, brutish—a "problem child" as they'd eventually coined it. A bad apple that was intended to be discarded, one forgotten smear on an otherwise perfect Itadori family legacy.
Despite feigning ignorance, Sukuna wasn't stupid. He could hear the whispers swirling as he roamed the school hallways, chasing him even when he went for a lazy afternoon smoke underneath the bleachers. Pointless rumors that thrived on ridiculous teenage gossip.
"Is that really Itadori's brother?"
"Yeah. I can't help but feel bad for him, you know? It must be embarrassing to have a sibling like that. One who's a total fucking deadbeat."
Would they be saying that if they knew how Yuuji came to him in the dead of night? Sweaty, feverish and desperate? Crawling in the bed that belonged to his big brother and riding him until the mattress squeaked in angry protest?
"So." Yuuji's gentle voice interrupted Sukuna's train of thought. "Breakfast?"
Without waiting for a response, his brother propped himself up on his elbow and fumbled for his phone. During their slumber, the device had gotten lost underneath piles of brightly colored blankets used to combat the cold. Frost had also begun to creep across the windowsill, another telltale sign that their grandfather skimped out on paying for the heat once again this year.
Fuck. All that meant was that Sukuna would need to pick up a few extra shifts to ensure ends met. Regardless of how bitter the frosty chill was in the air, he refused to allow Yuuji to endure this for the next few months.
"Breakfast." Sukuna grunted in agreement, rubbing his eyes with a heavy sigh.
They fell into a casual routine. Side-stepping past one another to retrieve items from the fridge, listening to the low hum of the radio as the coffee pot lazily whirred to life. One of the picture frames propped up against the kitchen window had gone crooked—likely caused by the howling wind from the night prior—and Yuuji instinctively stepped forward to fix it.
Yet another task forcibly added onto Sukuna's never-ending list of maintenance. Sealing the cracks in the windows may at least preserve the heat for a little longer. Maybe it would be best to make that priority over scraping up some loose cash.
"Are you working tonight?" Yuuji asked while cracking an egg into one of their well-used frying pans. "I have practice after school."
Stirring his black coffee, Sukuna took a short sip before clearing his throat. Originally he hadn't exactly planned on being out late, but it seemed as though no choice remained. Temperatures below freezing remained just around the corner, a genuine detriment to their livelihood if enough time passed.
"Yeah. I'll probably ask to take over a shift." Sukuna finally murmured.
Instantly, Yuuji's body went stiff with tension. His shoulders squared, his brow twitched and the lines of his mouth curved downwards. God—was he suspicious still? Even after all this time? When Sukuna had been sober for months?
"Okay." His brother spoke in quiet acknowledgement, gnawing mindlessly on his lower lip. "A shift from… who?"
The question was cloaked in a blanket of curiosity, as if that would be enough to mask the distrust lingering underneath. Memories fluttered in the back of Sukuna's mind. Nasty thoughts regarding his past addiction issues and dependency on substance abuse.
He scratched at the soft inner flesh of his wrist, suddenly battling the irritable urge to smoke. To satiate any cravings with his lungs full of smoke and his mind away with the clouds. Far away from the crushing sense of responsibility that only compounded by the second.
"Uraume." Sukuna responded, the fondness quickly seeping from his tone as it was replaced by undeniable irritation. "Is that acceptable for you?"
Yuuji faltered. There was a noticeable tinge of hurt in his eyes while he shifted from foot to foot. Without the hunger for a cigarette haunting Sukuna, perhaps he would've felt guilty.
"You know I didn't mean it like that—" Yuuji started, trying to soothe the damage his words had accidentally inflicted.
"I know exactly how you meant it." Driven purely by emotion, unable to quell the rising tsunami of aggression flooding his system, Sukuna turned toward the front door.
"Wait! But Sukuna—"
The door slammed shut behind him. Leaving an uncomfortable echo resonating within the air and a stinging pain burning within his chest.
"Where is Yuuji?" Nobara Kugisaki stood before him with fury and intent, her perfectly manicured finger turned up toward his nose. The nail polish on her hands had a mix of white and baby blue colors for a fitting winter theme with an assortment of gaudy charms. For some reason, it only further rubbed at his sensitive nerves.
Several other students passed by on their walk to class. Only a lazy blur of countless faces, thick layers of clothing and cups of steaming coffee. Dull murmurs of conversation, clicking lockers and rhythmic footsteps droned aimlessly on in the background until Sukuna's mind felt like wet putty.
"Dunno. Do I look like his keeper?" Ignoring the cutting gaze of Kugisaki's silent companion, Fushiguro Megumi, Sukuna roughly attempted to shoulder past both of them.
God. He shouldn't have even bothered with trying to endure classes today after such a touchy conversation with his younger sibling. Focusing without any distractions proved to be a brutal enough task without the added stress of unnecessary feelings.
Would calling Uraume for a smoke truly be the end of the world? One little relapse in judgment among several long months of sobriety? Even if Yuuji never forgave him for it—?
No. Fuck Yuuji's forgiveness. Was his entire life intended to be revolve around catering to his spoiled younger sibling?
At times, Sukuna loved Yuuji just as deeply as he resented him.
"No. You look like his brother." Kugisaki deadpanned, no trace of amusement or patience left in her strong voice. In one swift movement, she turned on the back of her heel and whipped around to face him. Clearly this conversation was unfinished, at least in her eyes.
Curses welled up on his tongue, simply waiting for the perfect opportunity to spill like a broken dam. Who was she—nothing more than a pampered prissy bitch—to be inquiring about his brother? Grinding his teeth together, Sukuna dug the sharp points of his nails into the sweaty meat of his palm.
Although he wanted nothing more than to hit her, he'd never hear the end of it if he did. They both knew it.
"Genius observation. I guess that's new for you?" Instead, choosing to reply with a scalding hot retort, Sukuna tried to self-mediate.
Back when he first chose to forgo smoking, Yuuji spent hours pooling over copious forms and posts to deduce fitting substitutes. He'd bought Sukuna packs of minty fresh gum or honey flavored hard candies. Writing down in scribbled chicken scratch all sorts of foolish hobbies to try whenever his stress levels became too intense.
Drinking water. Watching movies. Exercising.
All of them were pointless distractions. Simply meant to entertain him until the cravings vanished for the next couple hours. Yet in the end, everything seemed futile. Sukuna couldn't spend his entire day occupying himself with little tasks, after all. Sooner or later, he'd be left at the mercy of his own wild emotions.
"Ha. Really funny." Kugisaki answered him dryly, the corner of her lip twitching with the effort it took to restrain herself. Perhaps they were more similar than he'd initially thought. Especially with her clear dedication toward his younger sibling.
"Is he coming to class today or not?" Fushiguro chimed in, his voice dull and low as if he'd rather be doing anything else than indulging in this conversation. "We have a presentation this morning."
"Are the two of you fucking deaf?" Eyes narrowing down into thin slits, Sukuna rounded on the two of them with a look of pure rage. "I said I don't fucking know! Try his phone!"
Suddenly a hand slid across his bicep, causing Sukuna to take an instinctive step backward.
"Hey! It's just me." Yuuji's voice sounded soft and recognizable, smooth like freshly whipped cream. Yet, it unfortunately barely managed to soothe the heavy thump of Sukuna's rampant heartbeat. Still thundering away louder than a roaring storm inside his chest.
No feeling of relief washed over him. No great satisfaction or consolation. Instead, only a misplaced sense of bitterness remained upon his brother's appearance.
Here he was again acting as though their brief squabble never occurred in the first place. Pretending like life was full of sunshine and rainbows despite their dire situation. A sickly grandfather barely clinging to life support, stacks of piling bills and a relationship that betrayed all types of morality.
"Problem solved." Sukuna hissed, retracing his arm hard enough to jerk Yuuji's body forward.
Both Kugisaki and Fushiguro took a step closer, likely waiting for the perfect opportunity to intervene had the situation turned violent.
Of fucking course.
It seemed that regardless of what affinity they held for his younger sibling no gratuity would never extend to him. Sukuna would forever remain the troubled brother. The one who only existed to spoil the reputation of the prized Yuuji Itadori, the loveable tiger of west junior high.
"Sukuna." Yuuji whispered, his hazel eyes wide and round and shining with unspoken hurt. "Don't be like this."
They were acting as though he were nothing more than a wild animal. One who could be caged, poked and prodded at for their amusement. An embarrassment. Just a lion who was only ever tamed and leashed by Yuuji in the private sanctity of their grandfather's home.
"Fuck off." Clenching his fist tight, Sukuna barely contained the urge to childishly shove his brother aside and instead turned toward the exit.
No care in his mind remained convincing enough to keep him tethered to the school. Even if he'd be bound to earn himself another trip to the principals office, in this moment he couldn't bring himself to care. Everything was wrong. Overwhelming. Utterly and frustratingly pointless.
Pushing through the double doors to exit from the far side of the building, Sukuna soaked in the rush of cold air against his face. It stung in a way that left him grounded, forcing him to recognize each of his senses. The icy rush in his lungs, the sensitive tingle against his fingertips and the sting in his watery eyes.
Rhythmic footsteps clacked across pavement as Sukuna made a beeline for the bleachers. Each row had been dusted in a thin layer of snow but the underside remained barren. The grass had withered away underneath the low temperatures, stomped into a muddy path leading back toward the school.
It was an ample hideout to smoke away from the watchful eyes of goody-too-shoes students or judgemental teachers.
Sukuna surveyed the countless cigarette butts strewn about the melted slush with an exhausted sigh. The only idea more embarrassing than relapsing on his addiction would be doing it with a stranger's used smoke. One he had pulled out of the damp charred grass, no less.
This was fucking ridiculous.
Dipping into the shadows underneath the bleachers, Sukuna eyed the small cracks between the iron bars supporting the structure. Nobody would be dumb enough to leave their pack hidden in a little spot outside in the tumultuous weather, not with the current prices. Though his only two choices were to either search or stew in an angry silence.
"Looking for something?" A voice called from behind him. The tone sounded low, perhaps even childlike in nature, but with it came no sense of comfort. It was recognizable in the worst way, like the boogeyman appearing in the darkness of a kid's bedroom.
Mahito. Another egotistical imbecile that sought to dwindle his thinning thread of patience. He was the very last person Sukuna would willingly seek out for conversation, especially after a frustrating argument with his little brother.
"What do you want?" Sukuna made no attempt to mince his words, his voice defensive and vicious like a spitting cat.
"Just saying hello to a friend. Is that not allowed?" Finally stepping out from the shadows, Mahito's thin lips curled up in a disgustingly smug smile.
He looked gaudy as ever. Long pale hair tucked into two thick ponytails, thick scars across the curve of his face and two dull gray eyes that looked utterly lifeless. Gross.
Sukuna didn't even dignify that claim with a verbal response. Instead choosing to break the silence with a huff of humorless laughter and rolling his eyes. Perhaps he would've been better off (and much less irritated) staying with Yuuji and his under-qualified bodyguards.
"Want a smoke?" Mahito asked, fumbling in his pocket for a spare cigarette and twisting it between two nimble fingers.
The cravings itched underneath his skin. Every inch of him strained to satisfy that growing urge like itching an open wound despite recognizing the damage that would be left behind. It had been months since he indulged in anything—too easily deterred by Yuuji's big brown puppy eyes.
One little drag couldn't hurt.
"You got a light?" Trying to feign disinterest, Sukuna kept the corner of his eye carefully trained on Mahito's wrist.
"Here." Flicking a lighter between two nails chipped with dark smudged polish, Mahito lit the cigarette with a practiced flare. "You first."
Of course he deserved the first drag. There wasn't a chance in hell that Sukuna would dare touch the same spot where Mahito pressed his filthy lips. Though, he found himself faintly amused by the prospect of sharing a cigarette with his younger brother.
With Yuuji it was different. Everything was.
Taking a deep inhale, Sukuna felt his entire body relax as smoke filled his lungs. Worries slipped away, easing into mindless background noise. Even if Yuuji would be furious with him later, he needed this brief moment of clarity amidst the chaos.
"How is it?" Mahito's annoying voice disrupted that temporary oasis. Inquisitive, disingenuous and tingled with mischief. There was a suspicious twinkle hidden underneath his expression, as though he understood a joke that had yet to be told.
"Cheap." Sukuna grunted, curling his lips around the smoke and tilting his head back.
The light gray steel of the bleachers above them had been violated with scribbles. Mindless graffiti, loopy signatures and a several hearts with initials carved inside. The reminder of such normal romance left him feeling nauseous all over again, unwilling to confront his feelings.
Even if the bond between brothers was thicker than blood, the strings of fate were pitiless. Within a few short months, they would both be approaching the age to earn their soulmate marks. Both of which likely wouldn't synchronize despite of Sukuna's best efforts.
Each day he lived in a state of constant dread. Fearing the moment where Yuuji would inevitably come to him, in a whirlwind of excitement and anxiety, to reveal his patterned tattoo. One that could never match his own.
They knew their minutes were numbered. Yet, neither of them dared to address it. As though the mere prompting would cause their separation to come faster with a deadly swiftness.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Tilting his head back down, Sukuna noticed that Mahito had now lit his own cigarette. Sneaky bastard.
"None of your business." Exhaling out into the frozen air, he let his eyes flutter shut to resume the train of thought.
"How's your little brother doing?" Mahito's voice sounded vaguely amused, almost speaking in a sing-song voice, as if he were entertaining a child. "Itadori Yuuuuuji?"
A thrum of something dark, dangerous and decrepit curled within the base of his spine. Sukuna was struck with the sudden realization that he didn't like the sound of his sibling's name on a strangers lips. That he wanted to steal it away all for himself.
"Fine." Keeping his words clipped, he drew in another long pull of smoke. "What's it to you?"
"Does he still hate me?" Pushing out his lower lip, probably trying to feign innocence, Mahito fluttered his light colored eyelashes.
Flashes pooled in his mind, old forgotten memories of nights spent wasted away in a drunken haze. Having Yuuji appear through the fog to plead with tears in his eyes for Sukuna's sobriety. Leading him away from the pounding music and back toward the sanctity of their grandfather's small home.
Back then and even now, Sukuna held no desire to correct his brother's false assumption that Mahito had been the cause of his unhealthy addiction.
No benefit would come from recognizing his own shortcomings.
"Yeah." Sukuna agreed plainly, taking the cigarette from his mouth and lazily tapping the ash off the edge. "He definitely still hates you."
He watched the embers smoulder against the concrete. Slowly fizzling into nothing before they were stifled underneath the thick rubber of his scuffed shoe. It crackled quietly.
"Whyyyyy?" In a low moan, Mahito childishly shook his head. A few loose strands of pale hair fell from his twin ponytails into his eyes. The scars on his face seemed to shine underneath the sunlight, like the scaly exterior of a fish.
For any other person besides Sukuna, his twisted expression would have been unsettling.
"He blames you for that night." Sukuna answered with a passive murmur, letting his crimson eyes scan across the empty football field.
Within a few hours, Yuuji would be out there stretching. Running around the faux grass with his peers as though no worries in the world could weigh him down. The trademark image of a traditional teenage boy—not one who was trapped in an incestuous relationship with his only sibling.
"It wasn't my fault you overdosed!" Abandoning the taunting tone, Mahito leaned in close with both eyes stretched owlishly wide. "You did it all on your own!"
"I know I did." Hissing out around the cigarette in his mouth, Sukuna gritted his teeth in an attempt to stifle the rising frustration. "And if you repeat that to him, you're fucking dead."
Unfortunately, Mahito only continued to act like an insufferable insect. Attempting to wiggle his way underneath open skin to feast on the vulnerable flesh. He took a step closer, nearly pressing their noses together, and exhaled in a dreamy sigh.
"Oooooh? Someone's in trouble!" The lighthearted tone returned, that mockingly soft tenderness that ignited a staunch wrath from deep within Sukuna.
Without a second thought, the cigarette spun between two calloused fingers and pressed taunt to the skin of Mahito's wrist.
He pulled away with a pitiful yelp, furrowing two pale brows together and rubbing at the wound.
"Keep your mouth shut." Was all Sukuna offered in lieu of a proper goodbye, stomping the smoke out under his foot and setting off toward the parking lot.
"Wait!" Fully deciding to abandon the subtle coaxing, Mahito approached him once more with a misplaced look of vulnerability. "I have to ask you a question!"
Barely stifling the urge to rip his hair out, he instead chose to feverishly rub at the nape of his neck. It was impossible to discern whether the statement remained true or not—likely obscured somewhere between a half-truth. He drew in impatient breath, restless.
"Fine. What?" Whirling around to level his classmate with a scathing glare, Sukuna cocked a jagged eyebrow.
"Yuuji—"
"Don't call him that!" Sukuna barked, any semblance of composure now completely abandoned.
"Okay, okay! Your brother! Does he have his… you know?"
A cold chill encompassed him, like his body had been sunken into the deep depths of an icy lake. Like his stomach had been dropped off of a ten story rollercoaster. Like his world was crumbling quietly to an end under a nuclear bomb straight to the chest.
Mahito was inquiring about his brothers relationship status. Bold, brash and downright stupid in a foolish endeavor to taunt his disgusting interest directly to Sukuna's face. Acting so smug and coy with that stupid smile as if it wouldn't be ripped apart at the seams.
He moved without thinking twice, striding toward Mahito with sheer purpose. Every inch of his body radiating unadulterated fury, red eyes nearly glowing and lips twisted into a grimace. Sukuna could fucking kill him for merely daring to suggest whatever filthy implication followed.
He was nearly about to. When suddenly—
"Jesus! Is he dating his friend? The little one?"
Sukuna stopped in his tracks, baffled.
"His friend? Which friend?" He asked, sounding the weight of the words out against his tongue. Surely Mahito couldn't mean that gloomy fuck Fushiguro or that mouthy bitch Kugisaki. So, besides that, who else remained?
"Junpei!" Letting the expression of fear on his face melt into something softer, Mahito perked up like an attentive puppy. "The short one with the bangs? He's in the film club with your brother! They seem to be close but I think he might likeeee me more!"
It was hard not to laugh. Or gag. The idea of Mahito having a crush on anyone left him feeling sickly.
"You can have him." Rolling his eyes, Sukuna glanced back down toward his nails with a lazy sigh. "My brother's not dating anyone. He's not interested in that."
They exchanged a long look.
"I think he is interested! Only in a certain brother-fucker!"
"Shut the fuck up. Don't say that out loud."
Another hideous smirk curled across Mahito's face like an unwinding rug. His teeth were jagged at the tips, crooked yet unnaturally bright white. He seemed to only grow more odd by the minute.
"So it's true! Sukuna and Yuuji sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Humming out the tune between soft puffs of smoke, Mahito curiously tilted his head to the side. "I'm sure you do more than kiss, though! Ah, ah, ah, how naughty!"
Crinkling his eyebrows together, Sukuna silently counted to ten in an attempt to settle the rising irritation. If he got in trouble for fighting on campus again, Yuuji would be disappointed with him—which at times was worse than pure anger. Let alone if he were to additionally discover that the scent of smoke clung to his clothes.
"Whatever. I have to go." Dismissing Mahito for the second time that afternoon, Sukuna turned on his heel and resumed his walk toward the parking lot. Slowly the sound of low singing from his classmate faded into the background, swept away by the winter wind.
Cold air whipped at his face once again. A vicious sting that slowly grew comforting, sobering him up from the momentary rush of adrenaline. Mahito had never been a good influence throughout the years and he hated to admit that Yuuji had always known from the very beginning.
Regardless, the decision to try a cocktail of illegal substances that night had been his—and his alone.
Sukuna had simply been overwhelmed, that was all. Smoking to clear the fuzziness from his brain, drinking to soothe the anxiety in his stomach and slowly venturing into more forbidden territory until it became natural. Shoving enough drugs up his nose to leave his mind fully incapable of forming a single thought.
Then of course, the accident happened.
It had been a mundane night. One spent in the basement of Kenjaku's dilapidated apartment, surrounded by pounding music and flashing lights. Pushing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until he could no longer recall the sensation of empty space.
For a few moments, the release was a break. A form of escapism wrapped in the inescapable consequences of self-harm. He became addicted to the thrill, fixated on the moments where responsibility slipped through his fingers.
Where he could simply just exist. No longer dictated by the building pressure of watching over Yuuji, the piling payments of unpaid bills or the rumors swirling among their classmates about his character. Distracted from his constant selfish urges to simply vanish into obscurity alongside his younger brother.
Though, it hadn't exactly worked in his favor when he woke up two days later in the hospital with Yuuji weeping by his side.
Ever since that day, several months prior, he promised to stay sober. A promise that had easily been broken within the last ten minutes. Trust shattered over what had begun as a rather tame argument for the two brothers.
Who could Sukuna blame, aside from himself?
Nails thrummed in a steady rhythm against marbled counter-top. The air smelled faintly of thick artificial syrupy strawberry, as though someone had spritzed cough drop medication. Small robotic chimes echoed sporadically, commanding attention to their sharp echo.
Sukuna propped his chin up against his elbow, letting his eyes flicker closed. He could feel a headache beginning to form at the base of his temples, a low throb that refused to vanish. However, Uraume only spared his suffering a passing glance before inevitably turning away.
"Do you plan to sulk all day?" They asked quietly, counting coins from the cash register between pale fingers.
It reminded him of the cigarette from earlier. The itch returned. Gnawing at the pit of his stomach, creeping through his veins and circling up toward his heart.
"I don't sulk." Sukuna protested, sounding embarrassingly similar to a petulant child.
"You shouldn't. You're better than that." Uraume set the coins on the counter, moving over to note the cost down in a nearby notepad.
He watched their movements passively, observing the flicker of their wrist and the emphasis of the cursive numbers. Yuuji had bad handwriting. Scratchy, exaggerated and messy which made it nearly impossible to discern what words he attempted to convey.
"Is this about him?" They asked, tone gentle but inquisitive, obviously referring to Yuuji.
"Who else?" Picking up his phone to flicker through it, Sukuna bit down on his lower lip. "We had another argument again."
He opened the camera app. Immediately unable to resist the desire to desperately thumb through various pictures of his younger sibling. Photos of Yuuji smiling, laughing or sleeping riddled his gallery. Even with the occasional risque image.
Snapshots of his brother snoring soundly against his chest. Little snippets of him pressing kisses against Sukuna's cheek, lazily sprawled out across his open lap. One lone video cover of Yuuji's pupils blown out wide, the tip of a very familiar cock leaking against his tongue—
"Sukuna." Uraume's bored voice came crashing through his fantasy. "Why did you argue?"
Swallowing away the lump in his throat and ignoring the lazy heat burning in his stomach, he stuck the phone back in his pocket.
"He's just… impossible." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sukuna glanced back toward the empty store. "He doesn't let anything go."
There was a short pause, like Uraume was weighing their words thoughtfully.
"Is he still angry with you?" They finally asked.
"I guess." Sukuna grunted, unsure how to properly explain Yuuji's anxious behavior. "But I'm the older brother. He shouldn't be trying to police me. It's fucking annoying."
Uraume quietly turned toward the back of the store, reaching out to shuffle around a few of the various display items. They straightened rows of cigarettes, lighters and pregnancy tests. Eventually, they picked up a spray deodorant to thrust in his direction.
"Use this before you go. Otherwise he'll smell the smoke."
The can was colorful, light blue with a decorative apple sticker at the center. Fittingly green apple scented. His nose crinkled in a disapproving scowl, but he accepted the offer nonetheless.
"Who did you smoke with?" No judgment was hidden within the inquiry, just genuine curiosity. Uraume had forever been faithful like that, loyal in the most dire of situations.
"Mahito." He confessed in a pained groan, trying to ignore the thread of embarrassment that followed. "It's just one fucking cigarette. I'll survive. It doesn't mean anything."
Deep down, he knew that the frantic insistence was riddled with denial. Wrapped in a blanket of promises about starting fresh, having an off day or simply needing to clear his head. All phrases that quickly became second nature after countless slip-ups on his journey to sobriety.
"He was driving me fucking insane. Saying shit about Yuuji and asking if he got his mark yet." Stroking a hand through his hair, he tugged at the short hairs trailing down the nape of his neck. "Freak."
"Did he?"
"Did he what?"
"Did Yuuji get his mark?" Uraume repeated. Intrigued, gentle, cautious.
"Not yet." Sukuna's chest felt tight from the mere thought. Dreading the day where his brother would confess the —that his needs had grown beyond that of what his older sibling could provide. Where the dependence he'd begun to fully loath suddenly vanished without a trace.
When the only person he loved found someone else to treasure. A boy who was smarter, more composed or far less reckless. Or, maybe, a boy who simply wasn't his older brother.
"What will you do?" The question was simple, one he had been asking himself for months.
"I don't know." He answered, only able to display such vulnerability around his closest companion. "It can't be me. It won't. I knew everything would end between us. It couldn't last forever."
"The chances can never be zero." Uraume tried to reassure him quietly, a tenderness to their voice as though they were soothing an injured child. "Rare, yes. Never impossible."
There was an uncomfortable lump in his throat—thick, daunting and precarious. All throughout their childhood, his brother spoke upon his eventual pairing with a childlike wonder. Confessing that he spent many nights staring at toward the moon and yearning for his other half.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways.” Carding a hand through his disheveled hair, Sukuna squeezed at the back of his neck in hope of warding off any tension. “We had to end it eventually.”
After all, how much longer could their little arrangement continue for? Sharing a bed like they were children, talking into early hours of the morning and leaning on one other for support. It was bound to be a habit they gradually outgrew over time, like a snake shedding its skin once it no longer fit.
He should’ve been prepared for this moment. Although his own future seemed destined for a dead-end job with a circle of overdue bills, Yuuji would probably fit into the destined mold. He would move away, attend college, find a nice partner to settle down with.
His brother had always been good like that, normal—or at least, as normal as a person in an incestuous relationship could be.
“You don’t have to end it.” The suggestion sounded mischievous, spoken in a hushed whisper. “Soulmates are the expectation. Not the rule.”
In a way, those words were true. Never had the government deemed it necessary to enforce the bonds thrust upon them. As of recently, many soulmates even dissolved into divorce or separation while the world became riddled with unsolvable issues.
Though, it was impossible to picture Yuuji that way. His brother was too warm, too gentle, too accommodating. Unfortunately, he’d been doomed to seemingly inherit every attribute that most teenage girls would imagine in a perfect partner.
“Do you know anyone who isn’t with their soulmate?” Sukuna hissed out between clenched teeth, growing increasingly frustrated.
“No.” Uraume admitted honestly. “But you could be the first.”
Part of him ached to protest, to insist that he held no desire toward paving the path for others. Life would be easier, simpler, without being forced to act as a trailblazer. Stumbling around blind in hopes of eventually finding his own way.
“I guess.” Reaching out to absentmindedly prod at one of the pens resting upon the counter, his crimson eyes roamed across the empty store. “I think I’m just fucked.”
Watching him with a sympathetic eye, Uraume brushed a strand of hair out of their face.
“Why did Mahito want to know if your brother had his mark yet?”
It took Sukuna a moment to recall their previous conversation. Honestly, he had been half tuned out following the prospect of a much-needed cigarette. Too distracted by the urge to relapse into his crushing tobacco addiction.
“Some shit about liking one of Yuuji’s friends. I can never tell if he’s serious though.”
Mahito remained an enigma. A person driven by their own, odd selfish desires that never held more weight than trying to amuse himself. Even at one point, where they’d had questionable comradery, he’d never been more than an acquaintance.
“Which friend?”
“The quiet gay one with the bangs.” Sukuna grunted, beginning to recall Junpei’s face based on Mahito’s shoddy description.
He had always been a silent force amongst Yuuji’s other two companions, far more timid and anxious. Lingering quietly in the background with his jellyfish pins and gaudy keychains. Attending horror movie marathons of that weird franchise his brother quickly became obsessed with.
Sukuna found it creepy. Though, his sibling seemed to interpret the behavior in a more endearing way. He had been naive like that since childhood.
“I see.” Was what Uraume decided to respond with, lips pinched in a stubborn line.
They fell into a comfortable silence. Neither one of them chose to continue the conversation, letting the minutes slowly tick by. Few customers came and went, yet none of them were recognizable.
Minutes bled into hours. The sky darkened and the moon rose. Eventually, Uraume left Sukuna to wrap up the closing shift alone—a task that he quickly began to dread.
Most of the time he rarely craved companionship. Being void of company had never been bothersome until now, when unwanted thoughts started to creep in. There was no scuffling of shoes to break the silence, no more clinking of coins or clicking of the computer keys.
Just quiet. Sukuna alone with the memory of this morning.
Yuuji had been hurt. That horrible pinched expression of pain crossing his face when Sukuna had pushed him aside. Alongside the foolish way that both Kugisaki and Fushiguro jumped to his aid as if he’d been in genuine danger. All of it made him angry, downright frustrated with the unwanted attention.
His brother would always be safe with him, safer than with anyone else.
They were siblings, family, blood. Even soulmates could never be closer.
Once the moment arrived, Sukuna gratefully moved through the typical motions of closing the store. Counting the cash (a whopping thirty-one thousand yen), closing the shutters and locking the door with the spare key. By evening, a nice breeze had settled alongside the bluish-colored evening glow.
The streets were fully barren, as expected of Sendai. Empty sidewalks, dull streetlamps and tall powerlines that swayed in the wind. Nothing out of the ordinary from his ritual evening walk aside from a curious cat watching him through the window of an apartment complex.
Upon seeing him, the cat scampered off. Its ginger tail trailed off behind the thick beige curtain, out of sight and out of mind. He could vaguely remember one year when Yuuji had requested a cat for his birthday, only to be given a kitten stuffed animal by their grandfather.
Aside from looking disappointed, he hadn’t complained.
Sukuna missed him.
The small house seemed empty by the time he returned. Inside lights dimmed down, the front door still locked and no trace of habitation inside. Normally, Yuuji arrived home before him even when his practices ran an hour late.
Maybe he had chosen to visit a friend after their argument earlier?
Sukuna pulled out his phone, scrolling for any text from his younger brother that may have been accidentally ignored. In spite of what transpired between them, Yuuji wasn’t the type to vanish without a trace. He was annoyingly loyal, frequently sending updates of his whereabouts regardless of the silent treatment he received.
He had three missed texts from his sibling.
Yuuji at 10:54am — “hey, where did u go?? :(“
Yuuji at 12:21pm —“are u mad at me??”
Yuuji at 3:03pm —“when are you home? can we talkk??”
His thumb hovered awkwardly over the contact photo for his sibling. A candid image of his brother half-asleep on the couch, drooling into a bucket of popcorn. There was a loose hoodie wrapped around his chest, dark crimson and wrinkled, clearly belonging to his sibling.
Would his brother still wear his clothes even after finding his soulmate? Still crawl into his bed at night for warmth? Whisper that he loved Sukuna in one hushed little breath while they were tucked together under the comforter?
The entirety of his chest felt odd. Uncomfortably tight, as though he’d swallowed a dry cake without any water. Sharp nails dug into his palm, leaving half crescent marks in its wake.
Then, the front door creaked open.
Yuuji entered, still dressed in his track and field uniform that looked damp with sweat. His blue sports bag that held his sneakers and sweats was slung over his shoulders. Several brightly colored keychains jingled while he placed everything in his palms down atop the kitchen table.
“Hey Sukuna!” He greeted, suspiciously normal and unnaturally cheerful.
Although his sibling never fought back against him with contempt, he wasn’t a stranger to returning the cold shoulder. Therefore, the sudden shift gave him the slightest dash of whiplash. He had been expecting a full interrogation, intensive questioning and some stray tears.
“Hi.” Sukuna sounded audibly standoffish, realizing that misstep a bit too late. “Where have you been?”
“Practice ran late! Then I went on a little walk after! The moon looked so nice tonight!” Taking a few steps toward the window, Yuuji peaked out through the arched kitchen window.
Suddenly, an odd feeling formed in his chest.
This was too bizarre.
Yuuji sounded too jittery, too excitable and withdrawn. It made no sense. Normally, the two of them would’ve been tearing at each other's throats by this point!
A sensation of dread washed over him. As though the two of them were once again sitting on the couch, waiting for their grandfather to confess that their parents had passed. This moment held the same weight, that knowledge that horrible news teetered upon the horizon.
“Did something… happen?” Sukuna’s voice came out in a thick rasp, tense. “You’re acting differently.”
With that, his brother turned to face him. Both of his golden eyes were wide with delight, sparkling by the whites. His cheeks were still flushed a gorgeous peachy pink from practice. But his smile—it was wide and wild, hiding a thousand volts of energy.
“I got it, Sukuna!” Yuuji spoke in an excitable whisper, as though he could barely contain the excitement spilling from his body in waves. “I got it after practice today!”
He felt sick. Bile bubbling to life in the pit of his stomach. Of course deep down he knew exactly what his brother was talking about but he still had to ask.
“You got what, Yuuji?” Sukuna hissed between gritted teeth, fighting to contain his nausea.
“My mark!” Brandishing a dark tattoo that appeared on the inner curve of his wrist, Yuuji declared the sentence with an innocent flare of joy. “My soulmate mark!”