Chapter Text
“You know he’s never going to like you.”
“You’re not even his type.”
“He has a whole roster, what’s so special about him?”
“Do you actually like him or do you like the idea of him?”
“You’re overromanticizing the situation, get over it.”
Boys didn’t look at you the way they look at other girls. They didn’t care for your existence nor give you any sort of acknowledgement. And any time they did and got closer with you, it was really only to get closer with any of your friends.
All your life you were envious of girls who didn’t even need to try to get a boyfriend. They were pretty without putting in effort, they were already perfect at something the first try, and they always seemed to light up a room whenever they entered. You were so jealous that you never got to experience any of that.
In middle school, you never got the chance to experience awkward hugs during lunch. In high school, no boy has ever asked you out to a dance. And even in university, you still have never been kissed.
It absolutely sucked.
While everyone else around you was falling in love, you were the one they called for a third wheeling.
Pathetically, you were in your early-twenties and still nobody’s son was left for you to believe in love.
Until you met Ryomen Sukuna.
He was unlike the Prince Charming you built in your head since you were a little girl. He was straightforward and brutally honest, brooding and had the stereotypical “bad boy” look. Yet even then, you couldn’t help the way your heart did a little flip whenever he was in your vicinity.
He was reckless in a way that made you want to learn about him more. He was rude but in a way that reeled you in. Just hearing him speak made you go insane.
He was just a random boy who sat beside you in your Literature and Arts class, yet every time you accidentally got caught staring at him, you only fell even harder.
God, you were so in over your head for this man.
Just Sukuna’s existence motivated you to look good; you did your makeup every day for him, you revamped your wardrobe, you taught yourself how to make good meals and desserts. Just by looking at him brightened up your whole day. You did everything in your power to get him to notice you the way that you notice him.
And it for sure didn’t take long for Sukuna to eventually warm up to you, starting casual conversations to sometimes studying together since you were the only person he knew in the class.
And oh, you were head over heels.
All your friends tried to warn you about the reputation Ryomen Sukuna held. How he had a roster of girls lining up for him, or how he’s just being nice because he sees you as a quick fuck. Even then, you defended him.
Because you were so infatuated with him.
You defended him with your life; persuading them that he’s different and how he’s changed. You were convinced you could fix him or how he means no harm.
Why would he hurt you? He would hurt someone that he shows care for, right? It was so utterly ridiculous whatever assumptions your friends were making up of him!
Besides, Sukuna has seen you through your best and your worst, and he still hasn’t left you in the dust! That must have proven something, no?
For months since you liked him you were completely sure of yourself that you had a chance. You were so sure that you didn’t think you’d need to confess your feelings anyway because why should you? For one, Sukuna is no less of a man; he had to be the one to step up and ask you out. And two, why confess when it’s destined that he’ll come to you?
“See? He’s off limits.” Utahime sighed as you stood in the open space between the kitchen and the living room. You couldn’t even believe the scene you were watching—yeah, you knew Sukuna was a bit of a womanizer—but you didn’t think he would be making out with some girl while you were in the same room.
Here you were standing in the middle of a party that you were so excited for just hours prior only to see a nameless girl’s lips on Sukuna—your Sukuna—with his fingers intertwined in the roots of her hair and her thighs straddling around his whilst she smiled between the kisses.
A dreadful and shocked look was stuck to your face like glue whilst Utahime couldn’t be any less surprised. “He’s just a boy.” She exhaled through her nose, placing a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. “I hate to be the one to say ‘I told you so’, but I say this with love: you need to get over yourself. You don’t deserve any of that.”
As Utahime continued talking, you couldn’t even pull your eyes away from watching what was unfolding just ten feet away from you. Her words blurred to mush in your brain and you just snapped; taking a step away from your best friend’s touch and excusing yourself from the party. Even when the dark-haired woman trailed behind you, the music and crowded conversations drowned her voice as you made your way to the front door of the house party and entered the isolated outskirts of Shibuya.
Instead of walking to your car parked nearby, you found yourself aimlessly walking along the empty streets before finding the path to the main city walkways.
Your arms were wrapped around yourself in a tight embrace as your eyes watered.
You felt so pathetic.
Why were you even crying for a boy who kisses other girls when there was you?
As you walked mindlessly, you angled your head up and noticed a shop you’ve never noticed. It was wedged between a closed boutique and a small café you’d never really paid attention to before. The windows were dimly lit, but soft golden light spilled out through lace curtains and in neon lights had the words: The Green Man.
Something about it made you slow your steps without meaning to, your gaze snagging on the display window full of trinkets you couldn’t quite make out from the sidewalk.
Curiosity prickled at you in a way that felt almost too familiar—like the same feeling you got when Sukuna texted you out of nowhere or looked at you a second too long in class. You told yourself you were just looking. That you’d only take a second. That game night could survive without you for literally five extra minutes.
So you went in without a second thought.
A small bell chimed above the door as you stepped inside, the sound delicate enough to feel out of place. The air immediately changed—warmer, softer, laced with the faint scent of dried herbs and something sweet you couldn’t name. Shelves lined the walls in uneven rows, cluttered with crystals of every color, glass jars filled with things you refused to identify too closely, and little handwritten tags that made everything feel strangely personal.
You drifted slowly down one of the aisles, your fingers hovering just above the displays without touching them. Some of the stones shimmered under the light like they were wet, others looked dull and heavy, like they carried more weight than they should for something so small. You weren’t really sure what you were looking for—just that something about the place made it hard to leave immediately.
“You looking for something?” The person behind the register cut through the silence. Momentarily startled, you turn your head to meet a girl about your age with long blonde hair. She looks way too exhausted and worn out for a job that probably doesn’t pay her enough.
“Uhh… no, not really.” You answer, laughing awkwardly to yourself whilst she gave you a weird look when she saw how glossy your eyes were. “Just looking around.”
The girl—who you learn is Yuki from the name badge—shoots you a thumbs-up while she was scrolling through her phone, most likely texting someone.
As you scan through different aisles, you come across something that piqued your interest.
One Wish Willow: Amaze Your Friends! Only ¥1,200!
A white triangle-shaped box with red accents and a promise to bring whatever wish you want to come true by snapping a willow tree stick in half. You let out a soft scoff in amusement, baffled by such an idea.
Behind the counter, Yuki finally glanced up again, catching where your attention had landed. Her expression didn’t change much, but there was the faintest flicker of recognition in her eyes.
“Those are new. Came in two weeks ago.” She nodded, momentarily going back to typing something on her phone. “We’ve had people complain about it.”
You tilt your head, snorting lightly. “‘Cause it’s a scam and doesn’t work?”
Yuki made a look that appeared half distraught and half offended. “What? No! We don’t scam people. That’s not our thing. It’s 100% real.”
Slowly, you looked back at her. “Okay… then why do people complain?”
“I dunno.” She said with a shrug, resting her cheek on her palm like the question itself was exhausting. “Because their wish didn’t turn out the way they wanted?”
You blinked at that. “That’s not… exactly reassuring.”
“It’s not supposed to be reassuring.” She replied immediately, like it was obvious. Then, as if remembering she was still technically supposed to be working, she gestured vaguely toward the shelf. “It works. Just not always how people expect.”
You let out a quiet laugh under your breath, turning your attention back to the stack of boxes lined up neatly on the display. “Have you ever tried using one?”
Yuki didn’t even hesitate. “Pfft. Why would I? I already have a cute boyfriend that’s exactly my type.” She said it like it was the most self-evident truth in the world, even fanning her hand at you dramatically as if to physically wave away the idea of needing anything else from the universe.
You huff a small laugh, shaking your head as your fingers trace lightly over the edge of one of the boxes. “Must be nice.”
For a moment, your gaze drops back down to the little triangle-shaped box in your hands. It looks even more harmless up close, almost too simple for something that claims it can change anything at all. Still, something about the way Yuki said it works sticks in the back of your mind longer than it should.
You walk towards the register, placing the item on the counter. “Just this please.”
“That’ll be ¥1,200.” She says flatly, holding out her hand once the total flashes.
You tap your card against the reader, still half in your own head as you watch the transaction go through. It should feel stupid. It should feel like you’re buying into a joke you don’t fully understand. And yet, for some reason, you don’t put it back.
The bag is light when she hands it over, almost deceptively so, like it shouldn’t carry any real weight at all. You thank her quietly as you placed it inside your purse.
“Have a good one.” Yuki calls after you, already back on her phone before you’ve even fully turned away.
You peek into your purse, holding the triangle box before scoffing to yourself. Why the hell did you even buy this? You shake your head, placing it back into your bag before padding along the sidewalk and back to the house where your car was parked.
There you see Sukuna outside alone, his hands heavy in the pockets of his leather jacket. Hearing your shoes drag along the cobblestone path, he turns his head and his burgundy eyes meet yours. Sukuna flicks his chin up to nod momentarily in acknowledgement as he shoots you a grin.
“Hey, thought you were still inside.” He commented, taking a few strides towards you.
“Hey, ‘Kuna.” You shrug, pressing your lips in a tight line when he closes the distance between the two of you. “Just needed some fresh air. It was getting too crowded there.”
Sukuna let out a soft breath of laughter, taking his hand out of his pocket to ruffle your hair just a bit. “Yeah, I know. I remember you told me you were claustrophobic." You couldn’t stop the way your cheeks warmed up when he said he remembered something about you that you only stated once a long time ago.
The air was quiet between you for a moment as you stood by each other, with the exception of crickets chirping in the bushes and the street lamps buzzing overhead. Sukuna adjusted his stance, looking down and lifting his foot to check the sole of his shoe before moving his gaze back at you.
“Hey, so y’know how my car kind of broke down last week?” Sukuna interrupted the silence.
“Yeah, I could give you a ride home.” Your lips curved up, knowing you’d do anything for him.
Sukuna smiled back at you, his hand patting your back. “That’s why you’re my favorite girl.”
Deep down you knew he didn’t mean that in a romantic sense but still, you can’t just say that and expect the other person not to think you’re into them.
“Whatever, I’m only doing this because I feel bad.” You joke, sticking your tongue out at the tattooed man and nudging his arm gently with your elbow. While you walked to your car, you glance behind you at the house. “By any chance did you see Utahime in there? I sort of left her behind without saying anything…”
“Who?” Sukuna questions, tilting his head a bit. Right, you forgot he doesn’t really know any of your friends. He squints his eyes, trying to recall who you were talking about. “Oh, you mean the girl with bangs that you walked in with earlier? I saw her talking with Gojo.”
You sigh in relief, at least Utahime wasn't alone. You felt a bit guilty after leaving her in the dust after seeing Sukuna and… you didn’t want to think about that too much.
You unlocked your car before sitting inside, Sukuna making a lap around your car to get to the passenger side and making his way in. The moment the doors shut, the outside world disappeared and you were left with the one boy who consumed all your thoughts daily.
You adjusted your grip on the steering wheel and checked your blind spot before pulling out of the space you parked in. Sukuna eased comfortably into the passenger seat, one hand hooked over the door while the other rested over his stomach.
He glanced over to you, eyes tracing across your features. “You’re very concentrated today.” You hummed in acknowledgement and Sukuna snorted quietly to himself. “What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up.” You lied, the image of him making out with another woman crossing over your mind. “It’s just been a long day.”
He nodded, leaning back. “Mm, no doubt.”
“What about you?” You switch the conversation to him. “Anything going on?”
For a second, he thinks before coming up with nothing. “Nah, just been busy with school and boxing.”
“Really?” You snicker, shaking your head in disbelief. “You rarely open yourself up and when you do, it’s either when you’re drunk or really in your feelings. I always tell you what’s going on with me, and now…” You take a turn left and reach his neighborhood. “It’s your turn.”
Sukuna only stared at you before letting out a short bark of laughter. “I’m being real with you, nothing’s up.” You lifted a brow. “Just some bullshit going on with Yorozu.”
You pause. “Who’s Yorozu?”
“I was with her at the party tonight.” Your heart twists at that. Oh, so that was the girl he was making out with. “We’ve been talking for a while, but things don’t just… click.” Sukuna sighs heavily as he slaps his hands against his lap. “I want something that’s real, y’know? As corny as that shit sounds.”
Hearing Sukuna’s vulnerable statement almost made you malfunction.
Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t usually one to open up about his feelings. Usually getting him to talk was like putting your teeth into a wire and trying to rip it open. In most cases, he hated being vulnerable and appearing weak in front of others.
But you were the exception.
“Real?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head before letting his hand drop. “I dunno. It just feels like every girl I talk to wants something from me. They see whatever image they made up in their mind and run with it.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “I just want someone to see me for me.”
When he saw you grow quiet he clicked his tongue. “Don’t go telling people I said this, okay?” He grinned again. “You know, you’re the only person I talk to about this kinda stuff.”
It was embarrassing how much his words got to you.
The worst part was how carelessly Sukuna said them, not knowing how much of an effect they had on you. He was feeding into every little delusion and fantasy you had while being oblivious to the crush you have on him. He wasn’t even flirting with you nor implying anything, he was simply talking to a friend.
“I feel honored.” You state sarcastically with a playful smile that mimicked his.
“You should be.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips didn’t fully go away as his neighborhood came into view. The rest of the drive passed quicker than expected—filled with his usual commentary on random things he’d noticed during the week and your dry, sarcastic replies.
Because every time he laughed or said your name or glanced over at you like it meant nothing, your chest tightened with everything it did mean to you.
Eventually, you turned onto his street. The car slowed to a stop in the front of his home, the engine humming in the silence that followed. Neither of you moved right away. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.”
He reached for the door handle, and something in your stomach dropped. Just like that, it was over. He’d walk inside, text Yorozu tomorrow, and you’d go home replaying every second of this drive.
The door opened, cool air spilling in. “See you Monday.” “Yeah.”
He stepped out, then paused with the door still open, turning back toward you under the streetlight glow. That familiar smile—one you’d memorized without meaning to—softened his face.
“Get home safe, okay?”
Your throat tightened. This was it. The words rose before you could stop them. Sukuna, wait. I like you. It’s always been you.
Your lips parted. “‘Kuna—”
“Hm?”
He was waiting. Just say it. For once. Tell him before you lost your chance, before someone else became the one he chose instead.
For a split second, you almost did.
Then reality cut in. Yorozu. The party. The way he’d sounded relieved talking about wanting someone else. The courage collapsed.
You forced a small smile instead. “Don’t forget your jacket.”
A beat. “Oh. Right.” He reached back in and grabbed it. “Almost left that.”
“Good thing I’m here.”
“Yeah.” A soft laugh. “Good thing you’re here.”
It shouldn’t have felt like that much. But it did.
“Night.”
“Goodnight.”
This time, he closed the door for real.
You watched him walk up the driveway, keys in hand, until he disappeared inside the house. Only then did you exhale, like you’d been holding your breath the entire time.
The car felt emptier instantly.
Your gaze drifted to the passenger seat where he’d just been, then to your purse. The white triangular box peeked out. The One Wish Willow.
Your chest ached at the sight of it.
Because maybe if you’d been braver, you wouldn’t need wishes at all.
But you weren’t.
So you stayed there under the streetlights, alone with what you didn’t say, wondering if magic could succeed where you couldn’t.
Sighing, you reached into your purse and pulled the white and red box out. Skimming over the instructions, you open it up and take out the wooden stick that was packaged inside. As you removed it from the box, a jingle rang from it, the sound reverberating inside your car.
You wince at the noise before looking back at the willow tree stick. “Make a wish and snap the stick in half…” You mutter aloud to yourself. Without a second thought, you held the stick in two hands, fingers wrapping on either ends.
You recalled what Yuki said back in the store, how people complained. You rolled your eyes; it most definitely had to be a scam, obviously why people complained. Still, you couldn’t help yourself but make such a childish decision. It was stupid yes, but you already used your money on this unnecessary item anyway.
You breathe in.
“I wish for Ryomen Sukuna to love me more than anyone else in the entire world.”
And just like that, you snapped the stick in half.
Of course, nothing happened within the first five seconds. You didn’t feel any different. You looked around and nothing changed. You let out a silent huff, slumping back into the driver’s seat before tossing the One Wish Willow box to your back seat carelessly. You definitely got scammed.
Straightening your posture, you give Sukuna’s house one last glance only to be met by his silhouette standing at his front door.
You furrowed your brows, staring back at the box you abandoned behind you. What the hell?
Sukuna made his way back to your car and you rolled down your window whilst your heart stuttered in your chest because he looked at you the way you would look at him.
“Hey, uh, did you need something?” You question, concern etched in your voice and Sukuna leaned one arm against your door.
“No— I mean, yeah. I mean…” Sukuna looked away momentarily before flashing you that same old lazy grin he’d always do. “Did you wanna come inside? I know you’ve had a long day, but like… we could talk some more, or whatever.”
Your face contorted to confusion as you scrutinized him. “Sukuna, are you okay?”
“Are you okay?” He parroted.
“Am I okay? Because of the party or…”
His gaze locks onto yours, suddenly sharper than before. He hesitates—just for a second—then gives a small nod. “Yeah.”
“I’m fine—“
“Why don’t we, like, come inside and we could… talk about whatever goes on… in your pretty little head?”
For once, you don’t think you’ve ever been weirded out by Sukuna. But by all means, this was extremely weird.
“My… what?”
“I mean—“ Sukuna shakes his head, leaning his weight against your car door as he laughs quietly to himself in disbelief of his own words. His fingers tap restlessly against your door and he uses his other hand to stop it. “For real though, stop playing eye tag with me. Yeah. I’m sorry, this is so sudden. Yeah.”
Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, gaze flicking between your eyes like he’s trying to read something written underneath them.
You don’t know exactly how to respond to this sudden switch in his behavior, your mouth opens and barely a few words come out. “‘Kuna, I don’t understand. I think you're drunk.”
“No, no, no. I’m not drunk.” Sukuna laughs again, then looks at you properly with a grin. “I’m not— wait, what the fuck?” His eyes widened for a second while his eyebrows knitted together before his expression returned back to a smile. “I know! How about we go to your place instead?”
You couldn’t even protest when he suddenly opened the passenger door again and let himself in once more. “No, wait. Why are you getting in my car?” Sukuna settles back, putting the seatbelt on. “Sukuna, you’re honestly freaking me out.”
He freezes, the shift almost immediate—like whatever confident ease he had a second ago just gets yanked out from under him. Slowly, he turns his head toward you, eyes widening as if your words physically hit him.
“Oh. Oh, God. No.”
There’s a sharpness to the way he says it that makes your stomach twist. He looks genuinely caught off guard, like he didn’t expect you to react like that. Like he thought he was the one supposed to be in control of this moment, and suddenly he isn’t. His hand lifts slightly off your car door, then drops again, unsure where to even put himself.
Your brows pull together immediately, suspicion and concern mixing into something uncomfortable in your chest. Your grip tightens on the steering wheel without you realizing it.
“I’ve never seen you act this way before, are you okay? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The words come out faster than you intend, edged with alarm. Because this isn’t Sukuna. Not the version you know, at least. Not the Sukuna who leans back like he owns every situation he walks into.
“No, I didn’t mean to freak you out…” He exhales, and it sounds heavier than it should, like he’s forcing air out just to keep himself composed. His gaze drops for a second before lifting again, softer now, and he whispers your name in a hushed tone like he’s testing how real this conversation is. “Must be pretty fucked up.”
You blink, thrown off by how small he sounds saying it. His shoulders are slightly hunched, one hand dragging down his face briefly before falling to rest on the edge of your window frame. He looks like he’s trying to ground himself in something physical so he doesn’t spiral further.
“Well, yeah!” You exclaim, instinctively leaning back in your seat like distance will help you make sense of him. Your voice comes out sharper than you mean it to, but your nerves are starting to catch up with you. “Listen, I think you should go home, get some rest, we can talk about this tomorrow.”
You expect him to agree. To brush it off. To recover, joke, leave.
But Sukuna doesn’t move.
Instead, he looks wrongly fragile. Like the suggestion of leaving you alone is worse than whatever is happening in his head right now.
He looks like a beat up puppy when you say those words, and it’s so out of character it almost makes your chest ache in a way you don’t want to name. His usual sharp expression is gone, replaced with something dulled and heavy, eyebrows faintly drawn together as if he’s trying not to fall apart in front of you.
He frowns, and before you can overthink it, he leans forward and rests his head on the dashboard of your car like his body just gave up on holding itself properly.
The sound of it makes your breath catch slightly.
“I can’t do that. I just don’t know if I could be alone right now.”
“What do you mean?” You questioned cautiously, eyes softening when you saw how tragic he looked.
“My older brother is dying.” He says it flatly, but it doesn’t land flat. It lands heavy like it drops straight into the space between you and fills the entire car with sudden, suffocating silence. He turns his face away from you right after, like he can’t stand to watch your reaction. His fingers curl slightly against the edge of the dashboard, knuckles pressing into it as if he needs something solid to hold onto.
“‘Kuna, I’m so sorry…” You reluctantly scoot closer and rub his shoulder gently.
“Can we please just go?” He pleads, voice slightly muffled against the dashboard but you could hear how weak it sounds.
“Yeah, we can— we’ll go to my place, okay?”
“Okay.”
───────
As you unlock the door, you let Sukuna in first before locking it behind you and flicking the light switch on. The soft glow spills across the living room, revealing a space that feels suddenly too personal with someone else in it. He walks in without hesitation, like he belongs anywhere he decides to stand, his leather jacket slung loosely over his shoulder as his eyes slowly take in the place.
“Cozy.” He states, gaze lingering on the small details: stacked books, a slightly worn couch, and some miscellaneous trinkets here and there.
“Thanks.” You nod, suddenly hyper-aware of everything; the fact that your house is quiet, that it’s late, that Sukuna is here, that you’ve never had a boy in your space like this before. “It was my auntie’s before she decided to move to the countryside.”
You shift your weight awkwardly, suddenly unsure where to put your hands. Your room, your walls, your entire home feels like it’s being seen differently just because he is seeing it. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, watching him as he moves further inside.
Sukuna nods faintly, like he’s filing the information away, then slowly lets his jacket slide more securely onto his arm instead of his shoulder. There’s something quieter about him now compared to earlier but less chaotic in a way that makes the air feel slightly easier to breathe.
His eyes flick back to you.
“You live alone?” He asks, tone more subdued than before.
The question lands a little too suddenly in the quiet room, and you hesitate for half a beat before nodding. He almost looks a bit comical with him being so big in such a small living space. “Yeah.”
Sukuna hums softly in response, glancing around again like he’s making sure the space is real. His fingers tap once against the strap of his jacket, a small, restless habit that doesn’t quite match how still he’s trying to be.
“Uhm, my bedroom is just down the hall, second door on the right.” You cough into a balled up fist. “I’ll get some Advil and water.”
Sukuna looks at you for a second longer than necessary, like he’s weighing whether to say something else, then gives a small nod. “Okay.”
You turn quickly before your brain can spiral any further, disappearing down the hallway with more speed than dignity. The moment you’re out of his line of sight, your shoulders drop slightly, breath releasing in a quiet exhale you didn’t realize you were holding.
In the kitchen, you move on autopilot—cup from the cabinet, water from the sink, bottle of Advil from wherever you last left it. Everything feels too normal for how completely not normal tonight has become. Your mind keeps replaying the drive, his voice, the way he looked slumped against your dashboard like he couldn’t stand being alone.
And now he’s in your home.
You walk into your bedroom, placing the Advil and glass of water by the nightstand as he seems to scan around the area, admiring how much you’ve decorated the space.
“Cute room.” He commented and you hum.
You move to your dresser to get some pajamas for yourself before searching above your closet to find some that could fit Sukuna. You were able to find some old sweatpants your dad left behind. “Here, you could put these on. I’ll be in the bathroom.”
Sukuna looks at the sweatpants in your hands, then back at you. “Cool.” His fingers brush yours for the briefest second, and you swear you feel it a little too sharply before you force yourself to look away.
You nod once, quickly, and grab your towel off the chair like it suddenly weighs too much. “Okay. Um— I’ll just… be right back.”
After you changed you walked back into your bedroom to find Sukuna sitting on your bed, his hands clasped over his knees. Not sprawled out like he owns it the way he usually would in someone else’s space, but contained.
You hesitate for half a second in the doorway. “I can sleep in the living room, so—“
“Wait.” He calls out immediately, lifting his hand slightly, stopping you mid-sentence.
You pause, redirecting your attention back to him. The movement makes something in your chest tighten for reasons you don’t fully want to unpack. He’s looking up at you now, expression more serious than earlier, but still threaded with that same restless tension he’s been carrying all night.
“Can you sleep with me? It’s just that I’ll be in over my head the whole night and shit.”
For a second, your brain completely blanks. You stand there blinking like you didn’t hear him right, towel still loosely gripped in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that this is your bed he’s talking about. Your throat tightens slightly as you try to process it in a way that makes sense.
“Sure, yeah, okay. I can do that.”
He smiles and with zero hesitation, he’s pulling his shirt over his head. You turn around so fast it’s almost embarrassing, suddenly very interested in literally anything else in the room. The fabric rustle stops eventually, and when you chance a look back over your shoulder, he’s already there; shirt off, sitting like it’s the most normal thing in the world, waiting for you to come back like nothing about this situation is remotely insane.
You swallow. Right. Okay.
You slowly pad toward the bed, every step feeling louder than it should, and sit down beside him with careful distance that doesn’t really feel like enough distance at all.
For a good minute, neither of you speaks.
The silence stretches. It wasn’t awkward exactly, but heavy in a way that makes you hyper-aware of everything: the dim light in your room, the faint sound of the city outside your window, the fact that Sukuna is close enough that you can feel his presence without even looking at him.
You don’t mean to look. But you do. And when you do, he’s already looking at you. It locks in for a second too long.
Your gaze flickers down before you can stop it, then back up again, then down again, lingering a fraction longer than it should. His lips. You notice them in a way that makes your pulse spike annoyingly fast, like your body is reacting before you’ve given it permission to.
Sukuna’s expression shifts slightly, like he notices too.
The space between you feels smaller than it was a second ago, like the room itself has quietly leaned in.
You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s just the fact that neither of you pulls away fast enough.
But suddenly he’s closer, and your breath catches as the distance disappears in a way that feels inevitable instead of planned.
Your eyes flutter shut right as it happens.
The kiss is soft at first—uncertain, like neither of you fully committed until the exact moment you did. Your heart slams against your ribs so hard it almost hurts, and for a second everything else falls away except the feeling of him being there, real and too close.
You quickly fold and melt into the kiss, your hand resting on his tattooed shoulder as your nails dug into his skin. All of a sudden, you were making out with Ryomen Sukuna—the boy you’ve had a crush on for months. And he was kissing you back like he meant it, his large hand finding purchase on your waist.
You smile in between the kiss as it was almost too good to be true and he repositions himself to hover over you while you laid back beneath him. His lips returned to yours until he stopped out of nowhere.
“What the fuck?” He jerks back so fast it’s like he’s been burned. The sudden distance makes your heart stutter, your breath catching as the space between you snaps open again. Sukuna stares at you for half a second before his expression twists, genuine panic flashing across his face.
He pushes himself off you completely, scrambling back like instinct took over before thought could catch up. You sit up halfway in shock, hands bracing against the mattress as your chest heaves, trying to keep up with what just happened.
Sukuna drags a hand through his pink hair, fingers tugging slightly at the roots as if he’s trying to reset his brain. His breathing is uneven, eyes darting around the room instead of landing on you for more than a second at a time.
“Crap— I’m so sorry. I thought I saw something behind you.”
Your mind short-circuits.
“What the hell was that!?” You blurt out, voice sharper than you intend, confusion and adrenaline tangling together in your chest. “You— you kissed me—“
“I know, I know.” He cuts in immediately, still looking rattled, like he’s replaying it in his head and hating every second of it. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I thought I saw something.”
The apology comes out fast, almost messy, like he’s trying to outrun the moment before it fully lands.
You sit there frozen for a beat, blinking at him, your brain struggling to catch up with the whiplash of it all. Your lips still feel warm. Your heartbeat is still loud in your ears. And he’s just… standing there like he didn’t just snap.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s— I thought I did something you didn’t like—” You wave your hands slightly, trying to defuse the tension even though your voice is still shaky. “I mean, you just kind of stopped out of nowhere and—”
Sukuna shakes his head quickly, still not meeting your eyes properly. His jaw flexes once like he’s annoyed at himself more than anything else, and he exhales sharply through his nose.
“It wasn’t you.” He says, quieter now, almost clipped. “I just— I swear I… it was a panic attack. Can we sleep?”
You swallow, forcing yourself to nod slowly. “Yeah… yeah, okay. We can sleep.”
Sukuna lets out a breath that sounds almost relieved, though it’s thin and uneven. He turns away first, stepping back toward the other side of the bed, dragging a hand through his hair again. You shift under the blankets carefully, suddenly hyper-aware of the space beside you as he climbs in too, making the mattress dip.
The silence this time isn’t comfortable. It stretches longer, heavier, filled with everything neither of you is saying out loud. You stare at the ceiling, trying to regulate your breathing, trying not to think about how his shoulder is just close enough that you can feel the warmth of him without touching.
Sukuna turns slightly onto his side, facing away from you at first. Then, after a moment that feels too long to be accidental, he turns around to face your back. “…You don’t think I’m crazy, right?”
You turn too, looking into his burgundy eyes. “Of course not.”
Yet somewhere deep inside, your conscience was flashing warning lights.