Chapter Text
They say every hundred years, a mortal kissed by the blossoms is chosen to be the god’s bride.
The god of curses. The god of destruction.
His lordship.
Every painting had looked different.
One depicted him as a king.
Others as a demon.
One particularly old scroll had portrayed him with four eyes.
Yuji hoped that one had been inaccurate.
...
The soft wind toyed with his pink strands. Causing the mortal’s lashes to flutter, almost savoring the feeling as if a wind god was blessing him.
He needed blessings. Desperately so.
Especially tonight.
Tonight was the night everything would change.
The wind rattled the screen doors weakly.
The village women fussed over the boy, straightening the silks of his kimono. Placing intricate flowers and pathetic jewelry the village had to offer in his pink curls. They knew Yuji deserved better jewelry, but the poor village didn’t have enough to spare. The women had gathered all the pretty things they had just for him.
Old fingers tapped against his plush lips, soft redness appearing from lip tint, like he had bitten into a ripe cherry. Lips full and red, the color of fruit right at the edge of ripeness, just before the sweetness peaked.
The jewelry in his hair chimed like the little songbirds outside, as Yuji tilted his head to the side, calm eyes staring off at the door he would walk out later tonight.
The door of the home where Yuji had laughed, been with friends and cried all at the same time. Where he had formed unforgettable memories.
He couldn’t really process the fact that he was leaving. But this was all the preparation was for. It was all going to be worth it in the end.
To keep Sukuna happy for the time being, so that he doesn’t wreak havoc on the village and the harvest. He didn’t know how long he could entertain the god without him eventually growing bored. It scared him.
A bride was going to ground the god.
It was a naïve thought from the villagers.
But they still hung tightly on the tiny sliver of hope.
Hope of that they could live peacefully, if it meant sacrificing the beloved Yuji Itadori.
The fairest of all. Blessed by the blossoms; by beauty. The precious village beauty, who would help anyone and anything. Herd cows, feed tiny kittens and old cats, groom horses—but also pick rice and crops with the villagers. Sew unfinished yukatas and lull children to sleep.
Everyone loved him.
Maybe that was the problem.
The room smelled of faint lavender incense, drifting around the room like a calm snake—the scent curling around Yuji’s nose enough to make him nauseous.
“Ara…you look beautiful, Yuji...” One of them sighed softly, warm eyes sparkling with fondness, causing the boy to giggle and nervously adjust his jewelry.
Every woman in the room had seen Yuji grow across the years.
From the boy crying and whining how tight his kimono was,
His feet stumbling when attempting to walk gracefully,
His fingers being sore from playing the koto,
To now being the inspiration of young apprentices.
Young apprentices who trained for the same future.
To please.
The young apprentices would hide behind painted screens whenever Yuji was doing a tiny ceremony in front of the elders for practice and would note down things in their little heads.
Oh, he keeps his back straight the entire time!
Ah ... He always keeps his facial expressions calm and graceful ...
How does he move like that?
Yuji would catch them looking and sometimes give them a sweet from the kitchens.
An angel. That’s why everyone adored him.
He blinked.
“Straighten your back.” An elderly lady scolded playfully, slapping the boy’s back—making him recollect his graceful posture immediately, with a shy smile touching his soft lips. The other ladies chuckled fondly.
It was a brief smile.
For it disappeared quickly, like a petal falling from a ripe flower. Fleeting.
Already withering despite its early bloom.
The women had taken care of Yuji ever since he turned eighteen—as his father wanted nothing to do with their affairs. His son becoming the bride of a god, wasn’t something he was particularly fond of.
Yet seeing his father slowly fade away behind cold glances and scowls pained him in a way that almost motivated him.
Motivated him to show his father the life he had prepared for so long, in the future. If his life was going to be full of comfort and warmth, that is.
Look, father! I ended up having the good life I’ve been training for!
He hoped those were the words he would end up uttering to his father.
When the village women finished their fussing over him, they collectively sighed and leaned back. Hands folding in laps.
He was the result of their teaching. Of their discipline and lecturing. Poor Yuji had listened the entire journey despite difficulties.
“Tonight… you, Yuji, charmed by blossoms, will grace the god in the mountains with your beauty.”
One of the women’s voices drifted calmly through the air like mild incense, lingering… yet careful. A gentle prick, like a needle.
“As his lordship’s bride.”
The title bride sat stubbornly in Yuji’s chest.
He slightly bowed his head, long lashes fanning over rosy cheeks.
“You must anchor him, Yuji... you simply must!”
He had been prepared for this. Ever since the beauty Yuji had, intensified to a large scale when he turned eighteen.
Both a curse and a blessing.
If they didn’t have a beauty in their village, who would ground the god?
But it meant sacrificing them if they did have one.
The whole village had noticed. Had noted. Had panicked.
Two years, preparing to be the god of Destruction’s bride.
Koto lessons.
Dancing lessons.
Calligraphy.
Embroidery—
Learning the act of sharing a bed—
It had taken over Yuji’s life.
It had been a challenge.
Though the real challenge, was to showcase all these practices to his husband from now on. Display his progress as a good bride. To please him.
After all, children kissed by the blossoms had that role.
The flowers nestled in Yuji’s silken strands slightly drooped, causing him to quickly fix them with delicate fingers. Finger softened by beauty creams. Pale because of the lack of sun he was exposed to. Yuji couldn’t even help people outside anymore, since he was ordered to stay inside. And even if he did go out—his frame had thick silks covering him from head to toe, to avoid getting rid if his paleness.
“He values purity, you know.” An elder cooed with a tight smile, stroking his cheek affectionately for a moment. Motherly in a way, like soothing a scared child.
A decently sized petal drifted from one of the flowers in Yuji’s hair, pirouetting gracefully before landing against Yuji’s lap.
Kissed.
Kissed by the blossoms.
Yuji couldn’t escape the fate and his destiny he possessed.
Yet despite the pain it brought him, he looked down at the petal with a smile.
Still forgiving. Still sweet and compassionate despite everything.
The elders sat silence, regarding the boy. Obvious sympathy and pity were embedded in their faces. Every wrinkle. Every soft intake of breath. Every anxious glance out the ajar door.
The breeze outside played with the wind chimes that hung near the windows, a lovely melody—now causing the others to briefly flinch. It was almost like a warning. Like-- Time is ticking, go, go, go!
Then the eldest aunty stood up— hands clasped before her, with a curt expression on her face. Stern—yes, but underlying compassion as well. Understanding of the boy. She was the most protective of him after all.
She cleared her throat in the silence. The silence was extra heavy after the wind chimes sang a sorrowful song for them. A distant songbird chirped and sang happily, unaware of what was bound to happen tonight.
“We have to go to his shrine soon.”
“…”
One lady cleared her throat, and the others murmured soft agreements, giving Yuji a soft smile to relax him. If it was even possible.
“Yes...” Yuji smiled carefully, fingers digging into his silken kimono. The scent of jasmine that wafted from his silks clung stubbornly, refusing to leave him.
The smell of jasmine was going to haunt the aunties for the rest of their lives. The scent of the boy who had been sacrificed.
Everyone exchanged glances, even the thought of going to Sukuna’s shrine was unsettling. Mortals or creatures in general never visited it. Never gave it offerings.
After all, none of it did a difference.
Sukuna was greedy.
Rice, pickles, and pearls from tiny oysters the fishermen had gathered wouldn’t make him happy. Too simple.
That’s why he needed a bride.
Yuji had never truly believed the tradition to be real, only a myth mothers told their crying children to shush them.
Yet when his sister at heart had been chosen for Sukuna...
That’s when he truly began to fear it.
She remembered the village mourning her loss, how he couldn’t fathom the fact that his best friend had deceased because of the sheer greediness of lord Sukuna.
Because she wasn’t delicious enough for the greedy beast.
The god hadn’t been satisfied with his brides, so he went through a process of killing and getting new ones. That’s why the hundred-year cycle had been disturbed. Possible brides had gone extinct already, so that’s why the villages had gone into a crisis.
A hundred brides in the span of 5 years.
A hundred and one tonight, perhaps. Yuji had no idea.
While the aunties bustled around the bedroom, packing Yuji’s wedding gifts, gathering thick clothes from the inner closet, calling out to the attendants to quickly fix some food for Yuji,
he sat there like an empty porcelain cup. Hollow, yet patient.
“I’m not hungry...” He muttered quietly, and the aunties quickly looked at him, then exchanged glances as if they were personally offended by his words.
“None of that! You must—"
One aunty was cut short by the eldest, her wrinkly hand resting upon her shoulder like a quiet dismissal. The aunty in question sighed softly to herself and shrugged, going back to gathering fitting clothing for the weather. “Sukuna ought to complain how skinny his bride is...”
The attendants stood packed by the window, gasping softly at the distant thunder.
“How unfortunate, the weather is so dull.”
“It might be winter, but still... this is unseen!”
“He might be growing impatient...”
They tensed at the words, freezing for a moment before quickly hurrying their movements.
“Must you be so frightening? Don’t scare Yuji.” One hissed playfully, causing the others to chuckle lightly.
Everyone laughed except for the eldest, who glanced at Yuji with a solemn expression on her face, before quickly packing a tiny charm in Yuji’s coat. Nobody noticed, not even Yuji himself.
She cleared her throat and stood by the doorway, hands folded neatly before her.
“Come now, ladies.”
She looked at the spot next to them.
“...And Yuji.”
The elder pressed her old hand to Yuji’s back as he stood up gracefully, helping him out of the room. The others followed suit, fussing with the gifts and extra packed clothes.
Other attendants helped them, quickly draping a thick coat over Yuji’s slight frame, pushing mittens into his little hands.
“Oh, but it is so sour outside!” One cried,
“The gods must be sensing something…”
Another one paused.
“Or someone.”
Yuji’s hands clenched around the mittens he held, before quickly slipping them on and rushing outside along with the other ladies.
The weather hadn’t been so bad in the village for a long time. It was a clear sign of a bad omen, something the gods were concerned and distressed over.
Then—
A sharp crack of thunder rippled through the sky. It silenced every animal, every cicada, every raindrop Yuji was hearing.
A clear sign of dominance. A warning.
The poor pink-haired boy’s hands flew to his chest and gasped, long lashes lifted to properly look at the sky. The other ladies’ shoes clacked firmly against the ground towards the shrine.
The noise around him faded away like a distant memory.
His cheeks reacted to the cold, ears already feeling the cold bite relentlessly at his skin.
Luckily, snow wasn’t dropping in heavy amounts tonight.
Yuji breathed out softly, a cloud drifting from his trembling lips.
The sky was stormy. Stubborn. Heavy.
He was going to have to get used to it.
Especially when the one he was ought to marry was the embodiment of those words.
“Yuji, hurry now. The storm will sweep you away!” An elder quickly warned, gently yet hurriedly grabbing his delicate wrist and guiding him. Both of their wrists were trembling.
Everyone was cold, stressed and terrified.
…. Yuji was hungry.
He regretted trying to be mysterious and refusing the offer to eat.
He wanted to complain, to whine and pout and wait for a handsome, strong man to carry him back to the house. To cry out; I’m hungry! Take me home and massage my feet!
Sukuna wasn’t going to massage his feet. He wasn’t going to feed him like a foolish, old nobleman fed his concubine. No, he would not care that his bride was hungry.
All gods do is just fuck and kill, after all.
That’s what the ladies told him.
And that’s what he feared the most. To be seen as a dirty body, to have semen cover his goosebumped skin in a cold bedroom.
To die.
Yet he was still innocently curious about how Sukuna truly was.
Was he affectionate towards his suitors? Did he buy gifts? --
“Come on.”
She lightly tugged Yuji’s hand.
The journey to the shrine wasn’t mighty long, especially when Yuji drifted through all kinds of thoughts while walking.
They walked past all different shrines and little praying houses. The moss covered the old ones. Once respected sanctuaries now old and uncared for.
The bells overhead rang hollowly like the cries of a crow. A massive torii gate towering over them all, the paint chipped and faded away. No one dared to step near His shrine.
Yuji’s wide eyes darted towards them, now standing before the shrine where his soul rested.
His lordship.
Everyone stood frozen. Soft mantras and prayers reciting under trembling breaths. Fingers brushing over Yuji’s soft, powdered cheek. One of them started to weep, pulling the boy close and hugging him like how a mother would.
Tears smelled salty. Yuji knew that, because tears were the only thing he was surrounded by. Like the ocean. An ocean of tears, if you will.
Yuji’s plush lips wobbled, long lashes fanning over his cheeks as tears beginning to drop like little pearls.
His makeup lightly stained. Pretty in a hopeless way.
The other ladies placed pouches of bronze coins, sacks of meat, and rice in front of the shrine.
“...Offerings.” One murmured with a weak smile, glancing over at Yuji, who was now quietly crying.
His glossy eyes traced over the items, fingers fidgeting with nothing but themselves.
He felt a nagging feeling tug at him suddenly.
The nearby cherry blossoms drifted in his hair, letting them tangle in his pink locks.
…It wasn’t spring.
The petals brushed over the flower adorning his hair, like an interaction amongst blossoms.
His fingers reached out.
Slowly and gracefully,
He slowly removed the flower. The foreign petals stilled.
The elders watched as he delicately bent down, kimono whispering softly as he moved.
He placed the flower in front of all the other offerings.
It didn’t fit among the other tributes.
Too sweet.
Too pretty.
It was his own choice to put it there.
In the shrine of his soon-to-be-husband.
Yuji remained lowered, staring at the offerings—
The stern elder bowed her head to the ground.
“Great Sukuna—"
The giant bells began ringing violently, despite no hand touching them.
Loud thuds echoed in the air.
Yuji’s eyes didn’t dare to move.
Beside him, the corpses of the women who taught him ever since he was of age, laid limp on the cold, wet stone. The rain shot at them without mercy, as if the rain didn’t care of their deaths.
Just like that.
Their once radiant, warm bodies; now shallow and pale, with no signs of life.
Cold.
Yuji couldn’t make a sound. His feet remained firmly on the ground, as if he was afraid to fall over.
Another thud.
His kimono was stained with mud and dirt. Blood that had gone unnoticed. Blood that wasn’t his. The sharp stones underneath him pricked him through his silks.
His pink strands fell over his forehead, eyes wide as his mitten-clad fingers shot out slowly, shaking their bodies as if they were just resting.
Yuji could only hear his own breaths. Slow yet sharp. His mittens—now wet and bloody, clutched tightly to the eldest’s sleeve.
The rain hit Yuji like the impatient snouts of pigs. Overwhelming. Yet he didn’t process it. Her sandal had come off, his hand quickly slipping it on again. Focusing on the smaller details rather than accepting her death.
She wasnt warm.
There was no sign of life.
Yet he buried his face into her kimono. Like a baby wanting to crawl back into its mother’s womb. The lavender scent hit him like a brick. He pushed away the blood smell stubbornly.
Comfort.
Comfort was all he wanted.
He had been good.
Obedient.
Meek.
What more?
His nose nudged her neck, tears not falling due to the sheer shock that rippled through his body. The familiar scent of salt and lavender grounded him. The rain around them stilled, hugging her corpse tightly.
Silence.
“…”
Heavy footsteps descended from stone steps.
Slow.
Firm.
Dominant.
Like thunder ruling the sky.
Yuji instinctively pulled the corpse closer, his delicate frame shaking not only because of the cold lingering stubbornly in the air.
“Hn.”
A low hum. Growly, deep from someone’s chest.
It caused Yuji to squeak, and his fingers dug into the body’s kimono.
“A peony.”
At the time, Yuji had thought he meant the flower.
Something scraped against the stone altar, causing Yuji to slowly peek up—though not daring to fully lift his eyelashes.
The silence stretched.
Yuji felt eyes on him.
Not human eyes.
He let out a startled gasp when thick fingers—no, claws, suddenly grabbed a fistful of his pink hair and ripped his head upward.
Yuji’s half-lidded eyes shone in the moonlight. The harsh cold stinging his cheeks and ears.
Black markings.
Heavy robes.
Four arms.
…Pink hair.
Yuji thought it was his hair for a moment. That he was just hallucinating.
“My bride.”
His claws slowly ran over Yuji’s cold, soft skin.
Not pouncing,
Yet.
Yuji’s plush lips slightly parted, eyes wide as he stared back at the man before him.
No.
It wasn’t a man.
It was a beast with the body of one.
Sukuna’s thick digits brushed over Yuji’s lips. The cold air creating clouds as he slowly huffed through his nose.
Like an assessing ox.
“So soft,” He drawled lowly, almost mockingly. To the point where it wasn’t playful teasing—
Just darkly curious.
“Hm.”
Yuji let out a soft breath, his wide eyes shying away from the intensity of Sukuna’s gaze.
A distant crane cried out.
Its call was unsettling, longing for something that wasn’t there.
Sukuna’s face remained unchanging.
When the crane was in the middle of crying out,
its call was cut short.
Yuji raised his head with a soft sniffle, looking up to see if the crane was prancing somewhere—if it possibly had found its mate.
Sukuna noticed.
Noticed how Yuji was still caring despite the situation at hand. Despite everything going on.
Sukuna’s thick fingers firmly grabbed Yuji’s jaw, pressing harshly for a moment—causing Yuji to dig his nails into his sleeves with a soft gasp. His grip instinctively tensed, feeling intoxicating sweetness lingering in the air. It amused Sukuna in unexplainable ways. Like harming prey that didn’t truly deserve to be wounded.
“Don’t look there.” He murmured roughly, his face slowly nearing Yuji’s ear.
“Look at me.”
Yuji’s lashes remained lowered, his eyes tracing Sukuna’s robes repeatedly.
Sukuna’s grip stilled.
Slowly—like naïve prey, Yuji’s eyes lifted.
The god stared.
Longer than necessary.
Unreadable.
“Yes.”
Yuji’s fingers remained near his chest, though loosened with slight curiosity.
“Y-Yes?...” he cooed, almost silently. The first words he dared to utter before Sukuna.
“You’ll do.”
With a sharp cry arriving from Yuji, Sukuna’s strong arms shot out, hoisting the boy up against his chest. His massive hand firmly rested possessively under his thighs.
Yuji felt Sukuna’s feet begin to slowly walk.
“No—Wait! My aunties—”
Yuji cried out, his hands weakly trying to push Sukuna off him. The words escaped him before he could stop them. As though calling for them would somehow bring them back.
The people who had spent years teaching Yuji how to speak.
How to act.
How to survive around him.
They were so insignificant to the god, that he slaughtered them the moment they completed their task.
Sukuna was silent for a moment.
His heavy footsteps carefully echoed as they struck the ground.
“Those women spent years preparing you.”
Yuji’s breath hitched. His hair flowed wildly in the wind.
“…”
“They did well.”