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From village to city to royal court, minstrels travel, singing songs, performing plays, and spinning tall tales to whoever will lend their ear.
Among their favorite tales is the story of the two-faced demon who tore itself from its mother’s womb, beginning a wretched life of slaughter and bloodshed.
It is said that Ryoumen is the offspring of a curse that raped his poor mother. It is also said that he took none of his mother’s beauty, only the hideousness from the curse that defiled her. He’s said to be a heartless being who neither loves or hates as the concept of human emotion is lost to him. He kills indiscriminately, feasting on both human and animal flesh depending on his appetite, and takes both men and women to bed.
“That’s new,” Sukuna says when he hears that last part, smirking in amusement as he brings a bowl of sake up to his lips. “I never knew I was a cut sleeve on top of my other atrocities.”
His travel companion, Uraume, scowls, scanning her pink eyes over the crowded Inn. “With your permission I will cut out the mortals’ tongues, Sukuna-sama.” She touches the dagger on her hip.
The two of them are sitting against the wall in the back of the establishment, shrouded by darkness. Only the silhouettes of a small stature next to a massive one can be seen by anyone who glances their way.
Sukuna waves a dismissive hand. “It amuses me, the things humans come up with.”
There is no harm in these silly stories. They are merely there to pass the time. If he were mortal with the life expectancy of thirty he would spend his time wisely but he is an immortal being who has already reached the pinnacle of power. There is nothing more for him to do besides live freely and lord over the weak.
Not everything is a fantastical lie, either.
It is true that Sukuna has an appetite for all flesh as long as his hunger is sated. He has used women, demons, and deities, for sexual satisfaction, but he has never invited a man to his bed. A male omega would be the only exception but after the last war the humans waged there aren’t many of them left, sadly.
Sukuna has been in his domain, tending to a minor rebellion, so he never got the chance to sample them.
Another truth amidst the lies is that a curse did rape Sukuna’s mother, siring him. The first being he killed was the curse, not his mother who put him in the river hoping it would carry away her shame and put an end to his life.
During the earlier years of his life, he did physically favor the curse more than his mother who was the daughter of an aristocrat. She was a noblewoman with all the beauty and class expected of a woman of her social standing. In time, as Sukuna’s power grew, he learned to alter his form into whatever he desired.
There are those who have seen his true form; the two-faced, four-armed monster of nightmares. These days he rarely has to wear that skin. He mostly appears as he is now, a handsome man with a large stature, resembling that of an alpha with slight modifications.
“Shaman,” Uraume seethes under her breath when a newcomer arrives. If she were a cat she would be hissing right now.
Throughout their travels they’ve had run-ins with pesky shamans so he can understand Uraume’s hatred all too well.
Tonight is meant to serve as a peaceful reprieve from his annoying court. He isn’t in this realm seeking a fight but he is never one to turn down a good brawl. Besides, shaman flesh is rather tasty.
Sukuna watches a tall, willowy figure enter the Inn and his crimson eyes brighten as the shaman silences the entire room with their presence. Shamans are usually male betas with a handful of beta women. Never has he ever laid his eyes on an omega with the title. A male omega at that.
Naturally, Sukuna is the only one who can see what the shaman truly is underneath the flowy white robes, androgynous face, and ankle length dark hair that drapes behind him like a veil. He is a beautiful specimen, one worthy of further dissection.
The Inn’s keeper greets the shaman with a series of low bows, thanking him for his patronage and promising to serve him the best of the best. While the shaman is escorted upstairs to the balcony, the entire room has their eyes on him. From the whispers Sukuna’s sharp ears catch this shaman single handedly keeps this city safe from various night terrors. He’s also a healer, providing medicine to anyone who crosses his threshold with a troublesome ailment.
Geto Suguru, the respected and loved shaman of Heian-kyō is truly an interesting human.
Sukuna is especially intrigued by how this man has convinced everyone that he’s a male beta. There are methods to mask one's scent and specific clothing can hide an omega’s curves but what happens during his heat? Is Sukuna to believe an omega like that hasn’t been claimed by an alpha yet?
“Mortals are confusing,” he remarks aloud, sighing.
Uraume is all too eager to agree. “And they smell.” She scrunches her button nose.
Sukuna chuckles. “Ice Mages are closely related to mankind, you know.”
“We are closer to yokai.”
By only a little.
Sukuna keeps it to himself. He does find amusement in riling Uraume up but tonight he has a new pastime.
The Innkeeper escorts Suguru to a table that is within Sukuna’s line of sight. He stares up at Suguru, regarding his lovely posture and demure actions as he pours himself tea. As expected, Suguru senses his presence; faster than the average shaman would.
Suguru’s purple gaze regards Sukuna passively as if he’s trying to determine the threat level. Ultimately he looks away, greeting a serving girl with a smile as he hands her two copper coins.
“Uraume, book two rooms for the night,” Sukuna orders.
“My lord, you wish to sleep here…in this squalor?”
That is putting it rather harshly. This is the greatest city in this region with an abundance of wealth though this Inn isn’t the best example, it isn’t shabby. It’s not good enough for a king, but Sukuna doesn’t intend on sleeping tonight. He has a shaman to devour.
“Do as I say.”
Uraume bows. “As you desire.”
Curses, demons, and the like are nocturnal creatures.
That isn’t to say that sunlight is deadly to them. They are simply night beings that strive underneath moonlight rather than sunlight. Over a century ago, Sukuna became the sole ruler over these creatures. Abandoned by his mother and hunted by humanity, he had no choice but to embrace all of the wicked and ugly things in the world. They answer to him. They fear him.
Sukuna is something of fairy tales these days; a myth that parents tell their children in order to make them fear the dark. No one knows how often he walks the mortal realm, blending in until certain individuals sniff him out.
Shrine maidens, shamans, and other halflings are among those individuals. Each of them have been amusing in their own right, however, Sukuna prefers the thrill that fighting a shaman gives him.
“Show yourself,” Suguru says, drawing his katana, looking around the empty courtyard of the Inn.
Most of the other guests are sleeping, some are fucking. Sukuna saw this as the best time to lure out his prey. From the surrounding shadows he watches Suguru.
“I know what you are.” Suguru says, sheathing his katana and stepping out of his fighting stance. “I know I cannot exorcise you.” He clasps his hands behind his back, waiting.
Disappointing, Sukuna thinks.
He really wanted to fight Suguru. More than anything he wants to know what this shaman tastes like. With that in mind, he lunges out of his hiding spot, unseen to the untrained eye, moving like a black shadow across the courtyard. He extends his hand, black claws sharp, prepared to shred that porcelain skin into bloody ribbons.
Suguru lifts his left hand, holding up a black orb. With his other hand he forms a hand sigil. His long hair begins whipping around his face as the air around him whirls.
“Entrapment,” he whispers.
Half of Sukuna’s body feels as though it’s being sucked into a vortex. Confused, he halts his attack and puts distance between them.
Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.
There are shamans with special abilities scattered around the country. There has even been talk of a shikigami wielder and even a half god with six eyes. Sukuna has never heard about a shaman who traps curses in an onyx orb, however.
“I can’t absorb you it seems,” Suguru says, lowering the orb. He frowns and it’s the first time his youth shines through. Up until now he seemed older. “I can at least control you.”
Sukuna scowls. “Control me? The nerve of you, insolent sha—”
“Sit.”
An unseen force moves throughout Sukuna’s body, forcing him to sit on the ground. When he tries to get up a sharp pain pierces his skull, only letting up when he stops trying to resist.
Somehow, the shaman has placed a spell on him.
“You’re stubborn.” Suguru walks over to him, smiling. “I may have my work cut out for me, King of Curses.”
“Then you know who I am?”
“I wasn’t sure at first but your appearance gave you away. You may look like a normal man, an alpha, even but…” Suguru looks at Sukuna’s claws, crimson eyes, and long fangs pointedly. “Humans cannot see these things as they are blind to the abnormal but to me it is as clear as day.”
Not all shamans can see these things, either. That means Suguru is one of those rare individuals who possess innate power. That means he should taste magnificent.
“You know who I am yet you dare cast a spell on me,” Sukuna says. He raises his hand to see if he can still use it. He can. “I don’t need to be standing to kill you and I imagine once you’re dead this spell will be broken.”
Suguru smirks. “Do not attack me.”
Instantly, Sukuna drops his hand. All of his bloodlust is drained in an instant.
This is impossible. How is it that this shaman is able to control a being such as him? He can travel in between realms, lay waste to armies with one swipe or his claws, and bring a god to their knees. Yet this shaman, this omega who still smells of his mother’s cunt, has bested him.
If Uraume were here she would be mortified.
“I can’t exorcise you and I can’t absorb you,” Suguru says, squatting down so that they’re eye level. He’s very comely. “Releasing you would be a bad idea. Hm, I guess you’re coming home with me.”
This could ultimately work in Sukuna’s favor. Every spell has a weak point. In time, perhaps he can break the spell on his own and reward himself immediately after. Suguru wouldn’t only make a fine meal. He’d be an enjoyable plaything as well.
Sukuna will bide his time then.
Suguru orders him to quietly follow him. They walk to the back of the Inn where the stables are. A pure black mare greets Suguru with a neigh.
“It seems cruel to make you walk the whole way,” Suguru says, sizing Sukuna up. His head stops right under Sukuna’s pectoral muscles. “You’re too big to ride the horse with me though...”
Sukuna watches Suguru pace around the stable as he thinks of a solution.
Walking the entire way to his home wouldn’t kill Sukuna nor would it exhaust him or cause him any discomfort. He does have a human side that requires him to eat and sleep occasionally but it would take centuries for starvation and thirst to actually kill him. Even then he doubts it would. His hunger and thirst would be a mere annoyance to deal with.
This is a trivial matter and he expects someone who can absorb curses to be aware of this. Perhaps this technique is new to Suguru or perhaps he never examines any of the curses he takes in. It wouldn’t surprise Sukuna if that were the case. If most shamans and even humans knew how to use curses for manual labor or other means they would without a care.
“I’ll rent a wagon.” Suguru decides. “I made good coin cleansing the estate of a nobleman so I can spare the expense.” He sounds as if he’s boasting to Sukuna.
Sukuna isn’t allowed to speak so he can’t reply with a cutting remark.
The wagon is rented. Suguru gives his information to the renter to ensure he can collect his property. He could very well steal the damned thing if he wanted.
What is a feeble mortal to a shaman like him?
Sukuna grows more bewildered by the second in Suguru’s presence. For the duration of the journey, he sits in the wagon while Suguru pulls it with his horse. They make a few stops at rivers to replenish Suguru’s canteens and for the horse to have a sip, and they soon camp in the woods inside a tent.
Talismans are placed on the surrounding trees to keep them and the horse undisturbed throughout the night but Sukuna can sense curses trying to break in. He knows they can sense his presence and are drawn to him. If he were allowed to speak to their minds he could teach them how to undo the talismans but this shaman has prevented all manner of speech from him.
“You’ve been sitting up for such a long time,” Suguru says, returning to the tent after washing in the river. He’s wearing a thin yukata that shows more of his shapely figure. “I suppose you can lie down next to me.”
Sukuna lies down next to Suguru’s futon because the shaman commanded it. He hasn’t been given many commands yet he’s grown tired of this already.
The King of Curses being ordered around by a runt of an omega, a shaman, no less. The audacity.
“We will leave before dawn. We’ll make it to my abode by noon.” He purses his lips. “Speak to me.”
“I am going to gut you and eat your entrails,” Sukuna says as soon as he can speak again.
Amused, Suguru rolls over on his side. He touches Sukuna’s cheek with a slender finger. “Not unless I tell you to.” He sniffs Sukuna, wrinkling his nose. “You could use a bath as well. Go bathe in the river and return to me once you’re done.”
Like an obedient dog Sukuna leaves the tent and walks to the river. On the edge of the barrier he can see a group of curses eyeing him curiously. They have never seen him in this form before. That alone is giving them pause. Once he undresses and begins bathing himself they’re even more bewildered.
He can hear their scattering thoughts asking him if he requires their aid with the shaman or if he can let them in to share in the fun of killing the shaman. Their voices are quite Irritating, reminding him why he prefers traveling in the mortal realm to begin with. It’s to have a break from curses who can’t go a second without bothering him.
How fortunate is it that he cannot speak to them.
Admittedly that is rather freeing.
Sukuna shuts their voices out of his mind and bathes until he has met the cleanliness standards of the shaman. The curses eventually leave to find other prey.
Returning to the tent, Sukuna stands at the foot of Suguru’s futon because the orders he was given weren’t very clear. He has bathed in the river and returned.
“You took your tim—” Abruptly Suguru sits up, sputtering. His face turns a peculiar shade of red.
“You humans are so expressive,” Sukuna says.
Suguru points at him. “Why are you naked?!” He looks away. “Cover yourself!”
Sukuna covers his heavy cock with his hands. “I’m not even aroused,” he says, chuckling. “Surely you have seen another human naked before. I know how wanton you omegas get during your heats. No need to act like a shrine maiden…”
Perhaps it isn’t an act after all judging by how flustered the revered Geto Suguru is. He’s too afraid to even look in Sukuna’s direction. A shaman who has defeated great foes trembling at the sight of nudity. How cute.
From the moment Sukuna saw Suguru he did sense an air of chastity encircling him, reminding him of the shrine maidens he feasted on in the past. Virginal, powerful, and beautiful. Suguru is looking less like a meal and more like a treat.
“I was a shrine maiden,” Suguru says, voice somber. “Years ago…” He refuses to look at Sukuna but he’s calmed down a bit. “They cast me out.”
“Ah, that does make sense.”
Despite being a shaman Suguru has a technique that is more aligned with evil. Absorbing curses, their energy, must interfere with his soul somehow. The conflicting energies, the push and pull against darker urges must be slowly eating away at him.
Other shamans wouldn’t want to be around him so it’s not surprising that the temples would reject him.
“Yet you cling to their values,” Sukuna says, smirking when Suguru finally looks his way. He only looks at his face, avoiding everything else. “Practicing chastity, living righteously, that is their way. You, Geto Suguru, you were made to walk a different path.”
Why else was he given the ability to control curses? Sukuna became the ruler of these creatures over time while Suguru was born with the power to rule.
Mother of Curses.
“You will not sully me with your lies and dark charms, King of Curses!” Suguru says.
“I have an actual name you can use.”
“I do not care. Find clothes that fit, get dressed, and then come lay down.”
Instantly, Sukuna disappears from the tent, teleporting to a mansion several miles away. He raids the patriarch’s wardrobe, finding a black yukata that fits and he returns to the tent fully dressed.
Following the second command, he lays on top of Suguru who is now resting on his stomach.
“What are you doing?!” Suguru squeaks, struggling under Sukuna’s weight.
All of his squirming is rather enjoyable. For a former shrine maiden he has a cushiony ass, plumper than that of those on the flesh market. Licking his lips, Sukuna uses his minimal free will to sniff Suguru’s hair.
“Lilac,” he sighs.
“Get off!”
Sukuna gets off of Suguru, returning to his former place next to the futon. He smiles at Suguru who is now red from the tips of his ears to his neck.
“Your blood smells sweeter when you are distressed.”
“They say you eat humans, is it true?” Suguru is lying on his side. His face is still red but he’s trying to compose himself.
“I do.”
“Do you want to eat me then?”
Sukuna glances at his lips, lowering his gaze to his exposed collarbone, the dip in the curves at his waist, and his bare thighs. “There are many ways to devour a human. So, in what way are you asking?”
“I am only aware of one way. Which way are you referring to?”
His ignorance is no longer amusing. There must be an alpha in this realm who has tasted Suguru’s sweetest treasure. Omegas, especially, runts like this are ripe fruits to be plucked and plundered. A pity no one has had a taste.
“Give me the order and I will gladly show you.”
Sukuna knows how to charm. Part of his appeal in this form is that ability. His words are smooth, tempting, and his appearance is inviting. Even if Suguru can see the features that reveal his true nature he is not immune to Sukuna’s seductiveness. Ever since he saw his cock he’s been thinking about it.
“Will it cause me bodily harm?” Suguru asks quietly.
“No. What a shame it would be to harm something so beautiful.”
Suguru bites his lower lip, eyes softening, arousal building without him realizing it. “Will it kill me?”
“Not literally. Perhaps in a figurative sense.”
Although confused, Suguru continues his line of inquiries. “Will it harm or kill any other living being?”
Sukuna sighs. “You want to say yes so say yes.”
“Answer me.”
“No. It will not harm nor kill any other living being..”
Suguru stares into Sukuna’s eyes. “Never lie to me.”
“I have not. I have no need for lying.”
Sitting up, Suguru sits in a lotus pose, looking serious and composed. “Then show me.”
How hilarious is it that Suguru expected Sukuna to show him some kind of harmless technique. The look on his face when Sukuna hurriedly undresses him and places him on his shoulders is comical. But this is no laughing matter. The taste of Suguru has Sukuna feeling as though he drank a barrel of sake, like he’s drunk. He only wanted to tease the shaman yet he finds himself enjoying his melodic moans and whorish whimpering.
A virginal servant of god squirming and bucking his hips like this, acting like a favored concubine for the King of Curses instead is the inklings of a rewarding corruption. Sukuna enjoys snuffing out light, the pure and pious. Defiling Suguru would satisfy that urge yet so much more. He would enjoy it for himself, for his own lust.
Male omegas are quite exquisite as well. He assumed they were completely flat chested like male betas are. That was part of the reason why he often overlooked them. Suguru doesn’t have a woman’s bust by any means but his chest is rather plush, his nipples perky and begging to be sucked. He wonders what they would look like if he were pregnant.
Suguru fists his hands in Sukuna’s hair, screaming loudly, and climaxing so abruptly. His entire body sags forward. Sukuna cups his ass and lowers him to the futon where he continues feasting on him.
“No! S-stop!” Suguru’s body is overstimulated. He’s crying and panting, pressing his thighs closed and shivering. “No more…”
“I barely had a taste,” Sukuna says, smiling. He hovers his hand over Suguru’s thighs, urging them to part for him.
Entranced, Suguru parts his thighs. The hairs on his cunt are as fine as the hairs on his head. He’s still young so there isn’t much hair but it’s enough for Sukuna who prefers it. His wet folds peek open and Sukuna can see his swollen clit. Sukuna reaches for it. Realizing his actions, Suguru snaps out of it and slams his thighs together before Sukuna can stimulate him further.
“Do not touch me. Lie down next to me!”
Sukuna obeys because he doesn't have another choice. If it were up to him he would continue, doing more to ruin this sweet little thing. Not for revenge or anything of the sort. Simply because he has never tasted anything sweeter than Suguru’s cunt.
“What is it?” Suguru asks some time later. He’s curled on his side, back facing Sukuna.
Sukuna has been staring at the silhouette of his body ever since the candle was blown out and Suguru laid down in this position. “Pardon me?”
“Your true name?”
This isn’t a command. Sukuna doesn’t have to answer or entertain this conversation further. There are forces stronger than him present, however. He willingly gives his true name to a shaman, a mortal, for the first time ever.
“Sukuna.”
Silence falls over them once more. It carries on for so long that Sukuna assumes Suguru is asleep. But then he speaks again.
“It’s a pretty name,” he says, yawning. “Sleep well, Sukuna. We will not make any stops tomorrow.”
Sukuna hears how his breath changes. He’s finally asleep now. It’s not as if Sukuna can do anything now. He has to lay here until he’s given another command.
And what did Suguru mean to say when he called his name pretty? That isn’t a term anyone has ever used toward him. Even in this form. He is only ever handsome, dashing, and charming. This appearance is for travel and for luring in his victims discreetly. Nothing more. But not once has anyone referred to him with such flowery words.
“You are a peculiarity, Geto Suguru,” he whispers into the dark tent, truly fascinated by this being.
For an exiled shrine maiden Suguru has a modest abode rather than a rundown shack.
His courtyard is vast enough for a small Zen garden and a well-tended vegetable garden. There’s a koi pond on the side filled with low level curses; skeletal fish from the dead river. A single talisman on one of the pebbles keeps the fish contained to that space.
Perhaps Sukuna’s earlier assumption was wrong. Suguru treats those fish like a domesticated pet rather than a disgusting thing. Then there’s the fact that the curses he has absorbed are quite content where they are. Sukuna has heard them purring happily.
There aren’t any servants but people from the village lend their aid from time to time because Suguru is beloved by this small community. As a shaman who protects a city as great as Heian-kyō it would be expected for Suguru to live there instead of the quiet countryside.
Sukuna, of course, knows why Suguru chose this place as his home. He is a simple man who prefers to keep a low profile.
“We must talk about what happened last night,” Suguru says.
They are standing in the foyer. Sukuna can smell Suguru’s mark all over this nest. He’s more than eager to talk about last night as well.
“Is it time for me to taste you again?” Sukuna asks, grinning, baring his sharp fangs.
Suguru’s blush is pretty in the sunlight. “No! We…we can’t do that ever again.” He lowers his head. “I abused my power. I took advantage of you.”
Sukuna has never laughed this much in his life. This shaman should work as a court clown. He is quite amusing.
“I assure you it was the other way around,” he says.
Shaking his head, Suguru apologizes.“I did not know that was what you meant by eating me. I should’ve stopped you—”
Sukuna cuts in, “Why didn’t you? Enjoyed it too much?”
“I did.” The confession comes easily, to Sukuna’s surprise. “I have never….no one has ever shown me that. I did enjoy it but we cannot do that again. You are a curse, for starters.”
“Only half of me is. Should I neglect my other half?”
“Are you saying that only one side of you wants to…eat me like that and the other side, the curse side, wants to eat me the ‘gobble up’ way?”
Sukuna chuckles softly. “There are times when you are wise beyond your years and other times when you show your age.”
Suguru scowls. “We’re the same age. Well, in human years.”
“I am twenty-four in this form. You are eighteen.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can tell how old the meat has aged.”
Suguru makes a face at being referred to as “the meat” and crosses his arms. “You cannot view me as food any longer.”
That has long since been put to an end. Sukuna no longer wants to kill Suguru at all. “Then tell me, how must I view you from here on out? As my master? As my owner?”
“As your friend!” Suguru smiles and takes Sukuna by the hand, careful of his claws. “I’ll show you your room. This is the first time a curse has ever been intelligent enough to hold a conversation with me and since I can’t absorb you, I think I’ll keep you with me.”
That means Suguru has tried communicating with curses before. He is not the typical shaman for sure.
“Keep me?”
“Yes.”
“There is someone I left behind who isn’t going to like this,” Sukuna says, referring to Uraume who is more than likely tracking his scent in order to find him. “She is rather possessive.”
Suguru halts. Turning around, his lips are downturned. “Are you married then? Have you made a mistress out of me?”
“Mistress?” Sukuna grins. “Then you intend to share your bed with me?”
“I didn’t mean it like…answer me. Are you bound to another?”
“I am not. She is my familiar.”
“Then she can come live here as well. I am awfully lonely up here.”
Uraume would hate that even more. Then again, she is softer than she portrays. In time, her icy façade will melt in the presence of this blinding sun called Suguru.
“You are beloved by the people. How do you know loneliness?”
Suguru shows him to a room that only has a futon and a pot of dying flowers. He will not sleep in here if he can help it. He wants to sleep next to Suguru again. It was rather calming.
“They fear me as much as they respect me. Everyone…everyone I’ve ever met has feared my abilities…”
“Do not lie to me, Suguru. Did you hope to absorb me because you felt I was a kindred spirit? Did you believe the tales the minstrels spun about a lonely, unloved babe and thought you and I were similar?”
Suguru’s smile fades. He looks like a child who was caught misbehaving. All of his fun has soured because of a handful of words, because of the truth.
“You are not the one to give me demands,” he says coldly. “That power solely rests with me. Go sit in your new room.”
Begrudgingly, Sukuna obeys.
Perhaps he should kill Suguru after all.
“I am definitely going to kill you someday,” Sukuna says, glaring at the humble farmer’s attire he’s wearing.
Only a fortnight has passed and he’s already forced into manual labor.
Suguru sighs from his place on the porch. He’s peeling snow peas, relaxing in the gentle breeze. “You only have to weed the plants. The garden’s small. Stop complaining!”
Sukuna ceases his complaints. Using his hands he weeds the bloody plants, wishing he could rip Suguru’s spine out and…
Unfortunately any time he tries to think about causing harm to Suguru the image never looks right. Suguru is either too compliant or far too submissive in these gruesome fantasies. Sukuna doesn’t want it that easy. He wants to fight Suguru, conquer him, and then drink the blood from his open throat.
And what a pretty throat it is, he thinks, as he stares at Suguru. Purple suits him better than white does. The yukata brings out his eyes, highlighting his youthfulness.
Suguru catches him staring. “Are you having murderous thoughts about me, Sukuna?”
There it is again.
Suguru says his name as though they have known each other for years. He’s far too familiar.
Sukuna never corrects him.
“What if I am? What will you do?”
“You know, you have it easy. You get to live with me instead of being packed inside with the other curses. All I’m asking is that you help out with small chores.”
“I have it easy? I am a slave to a runt shaman.”
“I’m not a runt. I’m of age.”
“You are a runt in my eyes.”
Suguru loudly sighs. “Hurry up and finish weeding. I want you to take the sheets down and fold them next.”
When Sukuna is behind the house, dutifully folding the sheets, he senses a familiar person nearby. Looking into the bamboo forest he sees Uraume standing amongst the greenery, looking like a ghost in a silver yukata. She cuts her icy gaze to where Suguru is working on the side of the house, forming an ice dagger from her palm, eager to strike.
Sukuna shakes his head. He will not be saved in this manner. He does not need nor want saving.
“Return at nightfall,” Sukuna says, knowing Uraume will read his lips.
Uraume bows and fades away in a chilly breeze.
Moments later Suguru walks over to where Sukuna is sitting on a stool. “I suddenly got a chill. Do you think we’ll have rain later?”
Sukuna makes a show of sniffing the air. “No,” he answers truthfully. “Not for three nights. On the fourth it will rain.
“That trick of yours will come in handy during peak harvest season!”
“You’re already thinking of new ways to exploit me.” He deadpans.
“Speaking of, can you cook? I imagine not since you often eat your food raw.”
Sukuna picks up the stack of folded sheets and they walk around the house, side by side, as though it was an everyday occurrence for him. “Years ago, I cooked quite often.” The memories of that time in his life are fuzzy but he regards them as fond. “I may be rusty but once I start I’m sure it will come back to me.”
“Who taught you how to cook?”
“I learned during my travels. My familiar taught me recipes as well.”
“Do you miss her?”
“I do not know what it means to miss anything.”
“Then that means…never mind.”
Sukuna places the clean sheets on Suguru’s futon. They linger in the room that is the strongest source of Suguru’s scent. Standing in here is like being suffocated by Suguru’s thighs, reminding him of their time in the tent. He knows Suguru often thinks about it as well even though he never admits it.
“You only get this way when it’s something regarding carnal pleasure or flimsy emotions,” Sukuna says, knowingly. “Which is it now, Suguru?”
Just now he realized that he also says the other’s name as if he has known it for years.
“If you do not know what it means to miss anyone then you are incapable of love. Is that true?”
“How can someone who has never known love offer it to another?”
Suguru contemplates it for a moment. He’s far more thoughtful than the other mortals Sukuna has encountered. His curiosity is boundless. He would make a fine scholar in another life.
“Love is not to be taught, Sukuna. It is felt, it comes to us naturally.”
“Then why do humans kill each other needlessly? I have witnessed many wars in my lifetime.”
“Then you would know that some men fight for love. It drives their actions and consumers their thoughts until they are nothing more than a tool of that very love.”
“And you believe an emotion like that exists within me?”
Suguru smiles. “It could if you open yourself to it.” He playfully pokes Sukuna's cheek. “Who knows, perhaps you’ll end up with a mortal woman…or man.” He glances away. “If you’re interested in them, too. I’ve heard that you’ve taken both to your bed…”
Sukuna is once again reminded of one of the absurd rumors about him. “I have never, actually.” He recalls that treasured moment between them. “Not until you. Even then, I was robbed of time.”
“I was the first man?” Suguru seems to take pride in that. He is very odd. “Why is that?”
“You placed me under a spell.”
It isn’t entirely the truth. Sukuna manipulated Suguru into allowing him to do that. However, it is always enjoyable to see Suguru flustered and ashamed. He mutters an apology and abruptly changes the subject.
They’re having fish for dinner if Suguru can catch any.
“Allow me,” Sukuna says. He’s good at catching prey.
“Okay, I’ll finish up chores.”
Later when Sukuna returns, holding two handfuls of freshly caught fish by their fins, he realizes that Suguru never commanded him to return once he was done.
He came back all on his own.
They sit on logs in the courtyard, cleaning the fish and flaying the scales. Both of them are skilled with blades so it’s quick work. Sukuna builds a fire and then skewers the fish while Suguru cleans rice. One of the many things Sukuna appreciates Suguru for is his ability to know when silence is necessary. He is inquisitive, yes. But he doesn’t waste air with useless chatter.
Dinner is simple yet fulfilling. Suguru finally opens the sake a man gave him for exorcising a demon that was eating his livestock. He pours them both a cup.
Sukuna has a very high tolerance.
If not for his human side he wouldn’t get drunk at all. He enjoys good sake and this doesn’t disappoint. Suguru’s cheeks turn rosy and his eyes glimmer when he’s inebriated. He keeps smiling like a kitsune.
“What are you thinking about?” Sukuna asks, smiling over the brim of his cup. He’s not drunk yet but he’s getting there. “You keep staring at my mouth.”
Drunk Suguru is bolder than his sober counterpart. His face is flushed from the sake instead of his bashfulness, for a change. He keeps his eyes on Sukuna’s lips.
“Did I force you to devour me or did you trick me?” he asks, laying his head on the table, eyes never blinking.
Sukuna lowers his head, holding it a breath above Suguru’s. “I tricked you into allowing me to have my way.”
“Why?”
“I wanted a taste.”
“Why?”
“You know why. It’s the same reason why you want me to do it again.” Sukuna ghosts his lips over Suguru’s. “It’s the same reason why you want me to do more.”
Occasionally, Suguru will remind Sukuna that he is a powerful shaman who serves as the bane of many curses’ existence. He is a great force to be reckoned with, a being of immense talent. Sukuna isn’t one to be overpowered, at least not without this troublesome innate ability Suguru possesses. But no command is uttered. Suguru shoves him down all on his own and straddles his lap.
When Suguru cups his face, Sukuna is left speechless. His mouth parts in anticipation, the tip of his tongue aching in remembrance of that addictive sweetness he can never forget.
He yearns for those lips.
That is why he is utterly disappointed when Suguru collapses on his shoulder, snoring softly.
Sukuna frowns.
Suguru’s arms are hanging lazily around his neck. He’s such a lightweight that it’s almost comical.
As disappointing as this outcome is, Sukuna is more concerned with his disappointment. A kiss was never something he desired from anyone, Suguru, no less. Everything he wants to do to Suguru doesn’t involve kissing yet here he is feeling cheated.
“Damned shaman,” he whispers, resting his chin on Suguru’s head and closing his eyes.
When Suguru sleeps, the curses in his belly sleep along with him. They are peaceful whenever he is, furious when he is angry, and excited when he’s aroused. If not for his superior senses Sukuna would rely on the curses to read Suguru’s every emotion.
Sukuna rests until he senses Uraume nearby. As he’s laying Suguru on the futon it occurs to him that he hasn’t been given a command in some time.
“You and that shaman cooked together,” Uraume says the moment she sees him enter the bamboo forest. She looks him up and down, grimacing at his humble attire. “Sukuna-sama, what is the meaning of this?”
“I told you we would treat this visit to the mortal realm as a leisure reprieve. Our time here is always limited.”
“Then you intend to eat him once this farce has come to an end?” She sighs in relief. “While it is unwise to play with your food, I know you enjoy the hunt. I will find fun of my own and return—”
“He is not my prey. Not anymore,”
Uraume is genuinely confused. “Then what is he? Why are you with that shaman?”
Out of all of his subjects, Uraume is the only one he can tell the truth to without having his authority questioned. Honestly, he doesn’t see Uraume as a subject. She is his companion, and there was a time Sukuna thought her presence would be enough yet he’s stealing glances at the house where Suguru sleeps, yearning to return.
“He intrigues me.” Sukuna doesn’t know how else to put these curious and conflicting thoughts into words. “We can resume as normal once I have pieced together this puzzle.”
“This is nothing more than another game for you from the sounds of it.” She sees him look at the house once more. “It doesn’t look that way, however. I will return in a fortnight regardless.”
Before returning to Suguru’s side, Sukuna locates every curse in the vicinity of the village and orders them to stay away from here and the nearest city. That should keep Suguru’s schedule free for a while. The days when Suguru has to leave for an exorcism are rather dull. He prefers when Suguru is working around the house; he prefers when Suguru is there with him.
“You came back,” Suguru says when Sukuna enters his room. He’s sitting up on the futon, hands fisted in the sheets. “Twice I’ve tested you and you didn’t run away or try to kill me.”
Sukuna stands over him with his fangs showing. “How do you know I’m not here to kill you now?”
Suguru lifts his chin, calling his bluff. Kneeling, Sukuna crawls over him and nudges him. Suguru falls on his back, opening his arms in surrender.
Sukuna could kill him in an instance. He rubs Suguru’s inner thigh under his yukata, pushing it open as his hand moves higher. There is nothing he hasn’t seen before but he acts as if it’s his first time seeing what Suguru hides under layers of robes whenever he’s out there carrying himself like some untouchable flower. That carnal urge to destroy and defile is one he can never escape yet he exhibits restraint for Suguru’s sake.
He presses his lips to Suguru’s lips, kissing him the way he thinks someone is supposed to be kissed. It’s hurried, rough, messy — complete devourance. Suguru has never been kissed before so he believes this is as it should be. To Suguru, this is just like the poetry he reads when he thinks no one notices, the erotic art he blushes at while longing fills his heart. He is an eager pupil wholly unaware that his teacher is a novice as well.
At least in regard to kissing. Sukuna is well learned in other areas and he shares that expertise. His lips haven’t touched Suguru’s cunt yet he is squirming beneath his hold. Then soon Sukuna has him by the thighs, back arching, toes curled as his tongue curls inside of him. Suguru doesn’t understand how that is even possible. He cries and climaxes over and over, turned into a weeping puddle.
“Open yourself for me,” Sukuna says, mindful of his claws as he guides Suguru’s hand to his wet cunt. “Start with one finger…” He presses against Suguru’s middle finger, watching half of it disappear into pink walls. “Push it all the way in.”
Suguru’s eyes are half-lidded and his shoulders are flushed. He fingers himself with Sukuna’s guidance, adding another finger once he’s ready for it, and eventually a third. Watching him cream on three of his fingers while whining like a whore is quite the sight. It’s almost enough of a reward to satisfy Sukuna entirely.
Almost.
“Spread your fingers. Show me.”
Suguru spreads his fingers without the use of any spell or charm from Sukuna. Only his arousal controls him. “Make love to me, Sukuna,” he says.
That isn’t something Sukuna knows how to do but it is a command he has to follow. He doesn’t even think Suguru is aware of the spell anymore. He’s only sharing his true desires, not trying to control Sukuna. He wants Sukuna to make love to him so Sukuna does what he thinks he’s supposed to do. Instead of flipping Suguru over on his stomach, thrusting in swiftly and brutally, he removes his fingers, sucks them clean, and kisses him again. He’s never done it this way, preferring to treat his lovers like wet holes for him to satisfy his lust with and nothing more.
What makes Suguru different? He is a shaman who has ridiculed Sukuna by placing him under a spell of servitude.
Everyday at the break of dawn Suguru forces Sukuna to eat breakfast with him, tend the garden, and watch him practice his swordplay. He has to sit quietly whenever villagers stop by for their medicine and wait inside when Suguru runs off to save some weakling.
His days, though relaxing, are mundane and trivial. He has every reason to want to kill Suguru and yet he kisses him as tenderly as a wretched curse can which isn’t tender at all. Suguru’s lips are bruised but he keeps pressing his tongue into Sukuna’s mouth and moaning his name.
“Sukuna!” Suguru cries as Sukuna enters him, hugging his waist with his thighs.
It’s everything Sukuna thought it would be. It’s that and more. Being inside of Suguru is as pleasurable as tasting him. Sukuna has fucked more than he can remember. A good fuck after a massacre was once his ritual. He isn’t enjoying this because it’s a new experience, is what he means to say. He’s not even fucking Suguru the way he has been dreaming about all this time.
This slow, passionate love making is not something he thought he would do let alone enjoy. Suguru is moaning in his ear, hugging him tightly with all of his limbs, and Sukuna is kissing his neck, groaning his name while his cock is moving inside of him. They reach their peaks together and start anew, moving against one another with more urgency. Suguru has made a mess of Sukuna’s back. As the scratches try to heal he digs his nails in deeper, delaying the process.
Sukuna bites his shoulder, balls tightening when Suguru trembles and climaxes for another time that night. He follows suit right after, draining his sack without a drop spilled. They carry on into the morning well past dawn.
None of the chores are done on that day.
Four nights later it rains.
Suguru rides Sukuna outside on the porch under the safety of the pavilion. They barely finished the meal they prepared together. The past few days have been like this, pouncing on one another at a moment’s notice. Sukuna thought himself as insatiable and greedy, but Suguru’s desire is as great as his own.
There isn’t a room in the abode where the walls have not watched them fuck themselves into exhaustion. Sukuna once thought his stamina was endless but several times Suguru has left him spent. He drains his sack each and every time. If Sukuna had a knot he would have impregnated Suguru by now surely.
Sukuna flips them over, thrusting into Suguru before Suguru can even notice the change. He kisses Suguru’s throat.
“I probably don’t need one,” he says, continuing his previous thought out loud. “Your body was made to carry curses…perhaps it can carry a cursed one’s seed as well…”
Otherwise Sukuna supposes he can create a version of this form that can summon a knot. It shouldn’t be too difficult.
Suguru digs his nails in Sukuna’s ass, helping him fuck him the way that he has grown addicted to. One day, Sukuna will breed Suguru. For now, he brings them both to climax. Afterward he turns them over on their sides, facing the rainy night. They dazedly watch the buckets in the courtyard overflow with water as they lay there. Yawning, Suguru puts Sukuna’s arm around him. He holds on to it as he falls asleep.
When his hold slackens, Sukuna tightens his arm around Suguru instinctively.
In the morning, Sukuna rises before Suguru. He scavenges for quail eggs and hunts boar.
Suguru wakes to him roasting the skinned boar in the courtyard. Without a word he heats the stone they use for cooking and fries the quail eggs in the way Sukuna taught him. Breakfast is had in silence. It is a three course meal of quail eggs, smoked boar, and mounting Suguru in the grass.
Sukuna fucks him with the intent of impregnating him, thinking he can succeed through sheer will alone. He doesn’t hide his schemes from Suguru who only begs him to do it.
They would spend the entire day tangled together if not for Suguru’s giving nature. He spends the remainder of the day tending to the sick while Sukuna remains out of sight. It’s been days without a command from Suguru. Well, a serious command. He’s very demanding when Sukuna’s cock is buried in him.
Outside of that he doesn’t tell Sukuna to sit or lie down.
They retire to the futon together every night. Whenever Sukuna goes hunting or fishing he returns on his own. He cooks for them, carries out chores, and kisses Suguru of his own volition.
“Geto-sama!” twin pups call with delight as they run up to Suguru carrying baskets of bread.
They thank Suguru for looking after them when they were sick. Sukuna watches Suguru kneel and hug the pups, and he can easily imagine Suguru doing the same to their pups.
“Are you truly thinking this way?” Sukuna mutters to himself, in disbelief, looking away from the trio. “That is not a life for you.”
He shouldn't be here with Suguru at all. His time in the mortal realm is nearing its end. Soon he must return to his domain. The curses that dwell there are not as weak and mindless as the ones who roam this place. He rules over curses who could cause great destruction to the world if he were to unleash them all at once.
There is a balance that must be maintained otherwise the universe will interfere. Sukuna may sup on blood and chaos on occasion but above all he respects the balance. He doesn’t see a reason to wage a war he knows he will win. Only the promise of a true death would persuade him.
“Sukuna, we have fresh bread! Come have tea with me!”
Sukuna smiles.
On second thought, he has another reason to wage war with the world. If any harm ever comes to Suguru, that is.
“They are growing restless, Sukuna-sama.”
From where they’re standing under the ginkgo tree, Sukuna watches Suguru gather herbs in the woods with a passive expression that masks the longing in his chest. If he had a heart he thinks it would be beating loudly right now. Nearly two months with him and the novelty hasn’t worn off.
Uraume follows his line of sight, sighing. “Your presence here has not gone unnoticed. Many of them want to know why you are interacting with a shaman.”
“And you? Do you want to know as well?”
Remaining poised, Uraume bows. “Who am I to question your whims?”
“If you do not deem yourself worthy then why should they?” Sukuna looks at Uraume’s bowed head. “My time here will end soon.” Regardless of if he wants it to or not he will return to his true form and return to his realm.
It is not permanent. He will come back again someday.
“I want to spend my last days here with him. Do not disturb me any further. I entrust you with the task of keeping the others in line.”
Uraume wants to say more as she has never seen Sukuna behave this way but he leaves. It is for the best. Sukuna doesn’t know how to explain his actions, and admitting that failure will be like embracing incompetence. He is a king, not a peasant. He cannot be seen as one in the eyes of those who respect him.
Sukuna looks at the plain yukata he’s wearing, snorting at the irony. Uraume is not blind. She can see him losing his mind every time she comes here.
“Will your friend stay for dinner?” Suguru asks, walking over with a basket of herbs for his medicine.
No matter how many times Sukuna refers to Uraume as a familiar Suguru will refer to him as a friend.
“She has already left.”
“That’s the second time she’s left without speaking!” Suguru wags his finger, scolding Sukuna as he sees him as the reason behind this poor upbringing. “That’s improper manners. Next time, I’ll make a formal introduction even though I’m the eldest.”
Sukuna carries the basket for Suguru out of habit and they walk toward the abode.
“Uraume is forty years old.”
Suguru gasps. “What elixir does she use?”
“As a shaman you can slow your aging as well.”
“I think I may like aging naturally for now.”
If it was possible Sukuna would immortalize Suguru, ensuring he never ages and never dies. The world will be dimmer without him around.
Later that day, they go to the market together. It’s not a trip they make often because Suguru knows the villagers are already gossiping about his mysterious guest.
Sukuna wishes Suguru could see the ugliness in these weaklings who will betray him the moment it serves their personal interests. Their betrayal will be costly, too.
Suguru may very well lose pieces of himself, morphing into something dark and twisted yet beautiful all the same.
If that were to ever happen Sukuna would stay with him. Those useless humans will abandon him but Sukuna never will, not completely.
“Are you planning on feeding the entire village?” Sukuna asks. His arms are filled from their market venture. “Must I hide in the stable this time to avoid the nosey guests?” He scowls.
Suguru is walking ahead of him to open the gate. “We’re going to prepare a feast for our last day together.”
Sukuna halts. “You overheard my conversation with Uraume.” He assumes.
“No, but I know what you two discussed. I am a shaman, Sukuna. I know that beings of your status cannot exist in this realm permanently. You were only meant to be here until that time passed. I thought I could protect people by keeping you here.”
Suguru being at the Inn wasn’t by chance. Of course it wasn’t. He tracked Sukuna down with the sole purpose of entrapping him to prevent him from terrorizing humans during his time here.
“That was your initial plan but you abandoned it a long time ago,” Sukuna says.
Suguru doesn’t reply with any confirmations. He only smiles and opens the gate for him. “We should start dinner now.”
Regardless, Sukuna already knows the truth.
“This won’t be our last meal together,” Sukuna says, catching Suguru by surprise. “I will return someday.”
“Do not make false promises, Sukuna.”
“I would never deceive you and you know it.”
The Entrapment spell is permanent unless Suguru removes it or he dies.
Suguru could command Sukuna to not return to his domain, to stay with him forever. He doesn’t. He never will.
That selfless nature of his is admirable though foolish. Other humans are gluttonous, caring not for the wellbeing of anything outside of themselves. At times Sukuna wishes Suguru were greedier in his desires, but he knows he wouldn’t have wanted him as much as he does if that were the case.
They spend three days and two nights fucking around the abode and in the courtyard, and each time Sukuna spills his seed inside of Suguru he tries to impregnate him.
On the third night, Sukuna returns to his domain with a lock of Suguru’s hair enshrined in a wooden locket. The gift was tied around his neck while he slept after the tenth or so round.
In turn, Sukuna left his mark on Suguru. No curses will ever attack him. They will look at Suguru with the respect and fear they have for Sukuna as they are one soul.
Sukuna keeps his promise as well.
The next time he enters the gate of Suguru’s abode, the sakura trees are in full bloom and the courtyard is covered in pink petals. Suguru is crafting medicine while the twin pups from the village sweep the porch. He’s visibly pregnant.
Undoubtedly the seed growing within him belongs to Sukuna despite the scent of another alpha in the air.
Sukuna tries to determine the source of the scent to see who has been sniffing around his earthly domain.
“Sukuna!” Suguru hurries over to him, smiling brighter than the sun. “You have returned!”
Sukuna is relieved when they embrace. He doesn’t understand why that is. He doesn’t understand why the tension in his chest disappears the moment Suguru’s arms encircle his torso but he doesn’t contemplate it further. For now, he is home.
The twins leave as sunset nears. Once they’re gone Sukuna carries Suguru inside to his bedroom. He undresses him quickly, admiring his own work of art. He managed to impregnate Suguru after all.
Suguru carries it well as expected. His body is still strong, and Sukuna imagines he still exorcises curses and fights bandits as he travels on unsafe roads. Only someone like him can carry Sukuna’s offspring without being bedridden. His hips have spread, his beautiful tits have come in, and the smell of him is bewitching.
Sukuna wonders if that alpha was here because of how irresistible pregnant omegas are.
“Who was it?” Sukuna asks, squeezing Suguru’s tits and sucking on the nipples. He grinds his cock against his wet cunt. “The alpha that left his scent here….”
Suguru hugs his head, sighing. “A passing shaman,” he says. “The Six Eyes user. He only wanted to meet me—”
Abruptly, Sukuna thrusts his cock into Suguru, nearly weeping from how blissful it feels to be inside of him after so long. His eagerness was due to jealousy.
That shaman wasn’t here to simply meet Suguru.
Only Suguru would believe such a poor excuse because he doesn’t believe a half god would have any interest in him. Sukuna will charge some of the stronger curses to attack this Six Eyes with intent to kill any time they come across him. That should occupy his time enough and keep him off of Suguru’s porch with his flimsy courtships.
“Are you jealous?” Suguru asks, laughing. “Oh, Sukuna, I am heavy with your pups. I’m positive we’re having twins.”
They are. Sukuna can sense their growing power.
But Sukuna isn’t put at ease by this. He knows how humans are when faced with something they cannot understand nor control. Suitors are the least of his worries.
As the sun rises, slowly flooding the room with light, Sukuna holds Suguru in his arms after a night of love making, his mind heavy.
“Return to my domain with me,” Sukuna says.
Suguru peeks up at him, smiling curiously. “I am not a curse nor a demon. Even ghosts cannot travel to your domain. You think a shaman can?”
Humans may not survive in his domain, that is true.
“Then allow me to put you in one of my shrines.” There are those who worship him as a god. The temples sit on the highest mountain peaks, safe from the filthy paws of mankind. “You will never be bothered there.”
“Are you worried a suitor will come and sweep me off my feet? Sukuna, I am not a man with an ever-swaying heart.”
“You are not safe with these humans, Suguru. Once they discover who sired your offspring they will turn on you.” Sukuna’s chest is tightening with a feeling he can only describe as fear. “I am blind to the happenings of this world when I am in my domain. But if you are ever in danger, summon me, Suguru. Only you can.”
Quietly, Suguru kisses him. He takes hold of Sukuna’s cock, stroking it until it’s hard for him, and he rides Sukuna until he doesn’t want to talk or think anymore.
They never discuss it again.
A year later, Sukuna is in a bustling marketplace with Uraume, searching for the perfect gift for his pups, when he overhears the latest tale from the traveling minstrels.
A once beloved shaman slaughtered an entire village overnight. The dreaded Mother of Curses, Geto Suguru, snatched twin pups from their dying mother’s arms and fed them to his evil offspring before he fled in the dead of night. No one has seen him since but he leaves a trail of bloodshed in every village he encounters. His hellspawn are said to be children of the King of Curses, the secret lover of the cursed shaman.
Hearing this, Sukuna’s initial thought is that the humans are even more insufferable than they were before. He knew a time would come when Suguru would be treated as an outcast by the very people he tried to help. If he did slaughter that village then good riddance.
“We must find him,” Sukuna says to Uraume. “He needs me. He’s probably all alone and afraid…”
Uraume looks at him, startled by his concern. She clears her throat. “You marked him, Sukuna-sama. You will know exactly where he is.”
Of course.
Sukuna only needs to stretch out his senses to locate Suguru. The thing is, however, he’s been doing that ever since he left his domain and he hasn’t been able to sense Suguru at all. He tried not to panic. He assumed there was a talisman being used, one strong enough to block his sight. But after hearing the minstrel’s tale he has his doubts.
Sukuna takes Uraume’s arm and teleports them to Suguru’s abode. Only the gate remains. The entire structure has been leveled. There isn’t a single life force in the village either.
“Sukuna-sama,” Uraume says quietly. She points to the gingko tree in the distance where a single grave marker is.
‘Summer’ someone with poor handwriting carved into the stone. It looks as if a child did it. A single blue rose has been left as well. It’s fresh. Someone was here not too long ago it seems.
Sukuna cares not.
This is Suguru’s grave, Sukuna can smell his decomposing body. He doesn’t understand. Did the shamans do this?
Did they come here to put Suguru down like a dog after he slaughtered the villagers? If Suguru did it then these people deserved it. Can’t they see that? Suguru wouldn’t do it otherwise. If he did kill them for his own delight then who cares? Humans deserve that and more.
“Why didn’t he summon me?” Sukuna asks himself.
Outstretching her hand, Uraume freezes the blue rose to ensure it never withers. “There are humans nearby, watching us from the woods.”
The humans are here to defile Suguru’s grave.
Sukuna can sense their blind hatred. Hatred is the only thing they’re capable of. Suguru is no longer a threat to them yet here they are hoping to disrespect his name in death.
Killing them is satisfying but it isn’t enough to make the hollowness in Sukuna’s chest disappear. He unleashes his wrath on other humans, sweeping through villages and cities in his true form, the one of nightmares, butchering and feasting on all in his path.
Many shamans die by his hands as well.
It gets to a point when shamans from across the land combine their strength to create a united front against him. Sukuna is unstoppable until Six Eyes joins the fight.
However, it isn’t the half god who ultimately puts an end to the King of Curses. It occurs when Sukuna is wildly ripping shamans in half in a bloody frenzy. His bloodlust is too overwhelming, his rage consuming, blinding him. He doesn’t hear that familiar voice begging him to stop this madness nor does he smell the scent of lilacs.
By the time Sukuna recognizes Suguru, his arm is impaling his chest, killing him in an instant.
The other shamans see Sukuna’s shock as a chance to strike while the Six Eyes user’s screams of agony shake the entire earth. Sukuna drowns all of them out. He’s cradling Suguru’s lifeless body in his four arms, crying tears of blood as his body is covered in talismans.
Before darkness overtakes him he sees Suguru smiling at him.
The shamans cannot kill Sukuna.
They bury him under a blessed mountain, covered in talismans. Suguru’s corpse was taken from him to be buried elsewhere. The loss of him is nearly enough to kill him for good, but part of his curse is to live a long and lonely life, full of regrets.
Sukuna spends centuries sleeping, listening to the world ever-changing around him. His body turns into stone with time, resembling a statue made in a god’s visage. The humans soon turn on the shamans, casting out all forms of magic, pushing the night creatures out of their realm entirely.
Through it all, Sukuna remains as a single remnant from a time long past.
The mountain changes its form as the god it once belonged to fades away from existence once their prayers dry up. Humans with their modern technology find a new use for it.
Decades pass before the area where Sukuna sleeps is discovered by the outside world. After tireless efforts of trying to move him, the humans decide to build a sanctum around him. Hundreds of them travel from far corners of the world to see him. Historians have tried to determine his identity, and like the minstrels the tales they spin are truths mixed in with lies.
Sukuna doesn’t care. He remains unmoved.
“Suguru, don’t run!”
A small pup stumbles in front of the statue of the Two-Faced God, peering up at him with big purple eyes. He tilts his head to the side, dark bangs falling over his eyes. The pup smiles at Sukuna.
And Sukuna smiles back.
Some of the stone near his mouth cracks, scaring the pup who cries and runs to his mothers waiting arms. No one else sees the statue smiling, only the pup who hugs his mother’s neck and watches Sukuna over her shoulder as they exit the exhibit.
Years later, Suguru returns.
He is older now though younger than he was when Sukuna met him centuries ago. His face is exactly the same but the absence of his technique is evident.
That isn’t to say he is completely powerless though.
“King of Curses, I command you…” Suguru whispers into the empty hall, staring up at Sukuna with pleading eyes. “Wake—”
“Yo, Suguru!” A young alpha interrupts, running up to Suguru. “We’re not supposed to be in here. The place’s closed!”
Suguru sighs. “Satoru, why did you follow me here?”
The alpha, Satoru, looks at Sukuna with disdain. As if he knows more than a mortal in this lifetime should. Those startling blue eyes, Sukuna thinks, remembering where he’s seen the exact ones before.
“It’s not safe here,” Satoru says, taking Suguru by the hand, tugging him away. “I’ll walk you back to your room. We don’t want Yaga-sensei getting on to us during this trip. We’ll never get to go on any school trips again…”
“Satoru, since when are you so responsible?”
Sukuna watches them walk away, smiling when Suguru steals another glance over his shoulder.
He’ll be back.
And soon, Sukuna will walk the earth again and there is nothing nor no one who will keep him from Suguru ever again.