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Yuuji sits, legs dangling over the edge of a fire escape. He’s illuminated only by street light and the glowing yellow boca lights strung across the alley beneath his feet. It’s a cool early summer night, but the steam emanating from the vent above him manages to keep him warm. The peach fuzz hair stands up on his forearms, goosebumps raise across his skin like a warning for him to ignore.
He watches people meander through the wide alleyway as he bobs his head to the music playing from his earbuds. Sweaty restaurant workers pop out for smoke breaks or with overflowing bags of fish skins and soiled napkins. Couples make out against the sides of red bricked buildings. A stray cat prowls. Its crooked black tail flicks when it catches sight of something fast. Probably a rat. Yuuji hears it shrieking a few moments later when the cat pounces into the depths of the shadows.
“Caught you.”
Blood turns to ice. Something cold and sharp pricks at the front of his throat and his legs go still. Yuuji pauses the song. Suddenly the alley is far too quiet, minus the loud hum of air vents from above and water rushing in the sewers below.
It’s actually not quiet at all.
“You thought I would just… walk into your trap?”
“It’s not a trap,” Yuuji says immediately. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“This is our territory.”
“I know but-”
The voice is cold and all too familiar when it hisses, just as abrasive as the rust on the metal beneath him that threatens to slice open his palms if he touches it the wrong way, “Why the fuck are you here?”
Yuuji pauses, before answering honestly. “I like it.” The people, and the sights and smells. The sound of television thumping from the apartment buildings above lively shops and bars: a scream, a gunshot. None of it’s real, though.
Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah, right.”
To prove it, Yuuji points to the small box sitting in his shadow. It holds a modest slice of strawberry shortcake from a nearby bakery, one of his favorites. They leave the green leaves on the strawberries there. He decides that makes it healthy.
Sukuna looks at it like it contains a bomb. “You’re not serious.”
“What?”
Sukuna shakes his head, pulling the blade away and sheathing it. He's gotten new scars since the last time Yuuji saw him. The white one across the bridge of his nose is old.
His knuckles are bruised a deep purple. It matches the tattoos wrapped around his neck. The ones that firmly solidified his current… position. "You really are a dumbass. Risking your life for sweets."
No , Yuuji thinks. That’s not what I’m risking my life for. He opens the cardboard box and dips his finger into the snow white frosting on the cake. He offers it to Sukuna but the other just swats his hand away.
Frowning as it falls to the pavement beneath them with a splat, Yuuji says, “You wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Someone else might.”
Yuuji knows that’s an understatement. They wouldn’t hesitate, if they saw him. They'd splatter his brains, or drag a knife up his spine. He shrugs, taking a big bite of yellow cake and berries, humming around it contentedly.
"Yuuji."
He looks up at him with sparkling eyes. He can't keep the adoration from his gaze even if he tries. He's always admired his big brother. Perhaps that's why he followed in his path. Or tried to.
Sukuna looks striking in the moonlight. Yuuji wants to poke his fingers through the rips in his jeans. To pull on a loose thread and unravel it until there’s nothing left but him.
Beneath them, a drunken pair of women laugh in shrill, high pitched voices.
Sukuna's voice, in contrast, is hushed. "They'll kill you if they see you here with me. You need to stop doing this."
All Yuuji can think about is his cake. It's sweet, but not too sweet. Delicate cream and a thick, buttery crumb that melts on his tongue. The strawberries add a tartness to the flavor, staining the inside of his mouth red. It’s not the only thing that’s done that.
"You're doing it again," Sukuna continues, voice eerily devoid of emotion. "You're not listening to me."
Yuuji takes another bite of the dessert and suddenly Sukuna's fist is wrapped up in the fabric of his baseball jersey. The metal grating rattles beneath them as he lunges towards Yuuji and shoves him over the railing. If he let go….
Yuuji scrambles to save the cake from tumbling to the ground.
"This isn't a fucking game!" Sukuna snarls, spit flying. "What will it take for you to take this seriously, huh?!" He eyes the scar splitting Yuuji's forehead.
"I'm sorry," Yuuji says softly
"Don't apologize. Just stop."
Sukuna's eyes catch on something and he releases Yuuji suddenly. He climbs back up to the roof and hops across to another building before reappearing on the ground. He either goes through the building or down its own fire escape, Yuuji can't tell in the darkness. But his bubblegum pink hair appears again in the distance. He takes someone by the arm and turns them away, whispering in their ear. One of his 'colleagues', Yuuji assumes. No one who’s anyone.
Sukuna doesn't look back, not once.
The next bite of cake he takes is salty from mingling with his tears. He finishes it, melted cream and all, crying silently through each bite. When he finally makes it back up onto the roof, the stars are hardly visible in the night sky, but the airplanes and tower lights of Tokyo shine. They glow red, green, and blue.
The wind howls. Everything is too loud.
one week later.
"Itadori!" the woman behind the bakery counter greets politely. She's the owner, a kind old woman with a squeaky voice. "It's good to see you again. Where's your brother been these days?"
"Busy," Yuuji answers, bending down to eye the assortment of fresh pastries and baked goods in the glass case out front. There are castella cakes, and souffles and creme brulee and even tiramisu. That’s new.
"Ah," she tuts. "He used to hold your hands so tightly to keep you from touching anything. I had to tell him that ‘you break it, you buy it’ doesn't apply here. I think he had some kind of bad past experience."
"I've always been clumsy," Yuuji admits.
She raises an eyebrow, sliding a fresh tray of cookies into the case, "You seem so light on your feet."
Yuuji shakes his head, "Not as much as he is.”
"I see."
A few customers exit the shop, the bell ringing behind them. The cat who lives in the shop stretches in the sunlight warming the windowsill. It’s fat and fluffy.
“This is the last time I’ll be here,” Yuuji says, pointing to a chocolate croissant.
“Oh?” She boxes it up for him. “Are you moving?”
Yuuji hates that he can’t tell her why he’s been exiled from his home, the neighborhood he loves and grew up in. “Sort of.”
She asks why, just not out loud.
Because I have to, he doesn’t say. Because they’ll kill me. Because I should’ve never been here in the first place. I fucked everything up. I don’t have anyone here anymore and I’m starting to forget who I am. “New job.”
She smiles politely though she doesn’t look too impressed. “Well, you’ve always been a wonderful customer and a sweet boy."
Yuuji pays 750 yen for the croissant waves over his shoulder as he leaves.
"Good luck!"
I’ve killed people, he thinks. I’m not a sweet boy.
three months earlier.
It's always windier on the roof.
"They know you're alive." Sukuna raises his tanto. The charms near the handle dangle in the wind. "If I don't kill you, they'll kill me."
“Those aren’t your only options.”
“They are.” Sukuna approaches him, dagger in hand. He’s trained with it for years. Yuuji’s seen first hand what he can do with it.
He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. Would he?
“I’m not going to fight you.”
“Then don’t.”
The blade's edge is so sharp that Yuuji hardly feels it when Sukuna slashes his face, he barely pulls away in time for it to miss his eye. Blood pours from his forehead. “Suku-” The tanto hooks into his side like a tiger claw and Yuuji screams. “Please!” Don’t make me do this.
Sukuna’s face is inches away from his own, he twists the sword. It’s not a long blade but it's perfect for ripping through flesh and digging into bone.
His eyes are bloodshot. They both flick downward when Yuuji presses the barrel of his handgun under his chin.
"Stop."
Sukuna pulls on the sword and it hurts so badly to breathe but that's not the reason why Yuuji isn't.
"Me or you," Sukuna says. "Who's it gonna be, Yuu? Cause I know what you're thinking. You can't kill them all."
"We could," he bites back. "We could, Sukuna. Let's just go-"
Blood gushes out with the metal blade when Sukuna pulls it out of his side. Yuuji doubles over in pain, the dizziness hits him quickly.
He's going to die. He just doesn't know why Sukuna isn't doing it quicker.
He doesn't want to die.
Everything goes numb and he falls into the shadows.
It's too late to pull the trigger, but he wouldn't have done it anyway.
The sound of pots and pans clanging wakes him up. He's staring up at the ceiling, a small bit of blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. He coughs and pain blooms in his chest.
Sukuna appears, he's scrubbing the rice cooker pot in his hands, a single carrot held between his teeth. "Hungry?" he grunts.
Yuuji nods helplessly, then winces when it makes his head throb.
Sukuna's place is modest. A far cry from the mansions decorated with Heian period artifacts that they were trained in. Sneaking glances around, Yuuji comments, "They're not taking very good care of you."
He hears the schlick of Sukuna stabbing a knife into the cabbage he'd been chopping, "I haven't earned my place."
"You shouldn't have to…."
Sukuna emerges again, pointing the knife straight at him, "I have to prove myself because of the bullshit you pulled."
Yuuji curls into himself on the couch. Wanting to disappear but with an explosion, not a mist.
Sukuna takes long, confident strides across the living room. His bare feet padding against the wood. It creaks underneath him. Loud and heavy as if he weighs more than he really does. Yuuji has always thought there was something about him. Something larger than life.
He kneels beside Yuuji and begins to wipe the dried and coagulated blood away from his wounds, only in order to replace the soaked through bandages around his ribcage. He works meticulously. His hands are cold, slightly pruned from washing vegetables and cutting meat.
Yuuji's gun is sitting on the coffee table behind him.
It’s just like old times.
“What are you doing?” Yuuji croaks, there’s so much dust in the room it tickles the back of his throat when he speaks. Books line a shelf on the wall, he thinks Sukuna has probably never read them. He doesn't read.
“Making sure that you’re okay.”
Both of them know that neither of them can actually do that. Sukuna’s fingers travel lower, massaging over Yuuji’s skin, tracing his scars, wrapping him in new, fresh gauze. What happens next is a chain reaction.
Yuuji’s breath hitches when his wrist bumps against the waistband of his pants.
Sukuna looks up at him but says nothing. There's no judgment in his neutral expression. But there's no care, either.
Yuuji looks back. He holds his gaze steady like there's an invisible tight rope between them (if let's go, everything balancing on top of it will fall).
Sukuna takes one slow, steady breath, and then he nudges Yuuji’s soft cock, just resting his palm over it, protectively. Yuuji doesn’t move a muscle. Sukuna’s mouth remains in a straight, callous line.
It doesn’t stop Yuuji from wanting him. He fills up quickly with blood and desire, swelling underneath his brother's palm until he's twitching and straining against the fabric of his pants.
He can't stop thinking about him.
Sukuna rubs up and down the hard length of his cock. Squeezing, circling his fingers against the fat, sensitive head. Yuuji's hips jerk but he doesn't dare plead. He's aching for a release that only his brother can give him.
Graciously, Sukuna pulls his cock out. Undoes the button of his jeans easily, with deft hands. Yuuji watches him, mesmerized as he wraps his fingers around the base and squeezes the hard spongy tissues like it belongs to him.
It does.
Yuuji pants, taking in rapid lungfuls of air as Sukuna jerks him off on his couch, forcing the orgasm out of him. The muscles in his forearm flex with every stroke. It makes Yuuji's chest hurt and his heart ache.
"You're okay," Sukuna says, from his position knelt in front of Yuuji's waist.
"I'm okay," Yuuji parrots, breathless.
"You're going to come for me."
"I'm going to come for you- ngh!" Yuuji bites his lip as Sukuna speeds up, milking his cock. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna come-"
He spills all over his brother's hand, dripping white down his knuckles.
Sukuna pulls away before the aftershocks wear off and leaves Yuuji gasping alone in the small living room. He's gotten so turned on that he's worked up a sweat. It glistens from underneath the bandages wrapped around his torso. They'll need to be replaced for a different reason now. He's glad Sukuna didn't notice, it would only piss him off.
At some point while Sukuna's in the kitchen, Yuuji falls asleep. His cum dries sticky.
He wakes up to a steaming bowl of something getting shoved in his face.
"I don't know why I brought you here," Sukuna says, staring into the steam. "This was a mistake."
Yuuji listens because he has to listen. If they were younger and under any other circumstances he'd never entertain this.
Sukuna continues, "Do you ever wonder which one of us was the original? The egg before it split."
"I don't think it works like that," Yuuji's voice is a husk of what it used to be.
"It should've been you."
Yuuji doesn't know what he means. There are a lot of things he should be.
"I bet it was you."
"Sukuna… who cares?" Yuuji leans up and coughs. He wishes he had a bucket, he feels like he might puke. "None of that matters."
Sukuna glares at him bitterly, red eyes redder.
"It matters to you?" Yuuji asks incredulously. "Why would any of that matter?"
Sukuna leans down, hovering over him. "There was never supposed to be two of us. Now one of us has to go. It should be me."
"Neither of us have to go. We don't have to do this shit!" Yuuji shouts, shoving him away and hissing when a fresh bolt of pain shoots up his side. "We'd never- I'd never-"
Sukuna would. But he looks like he doesn't know if he can.
"Yuuji."
"Don't." The tears are hot. His voice is demanding. "Stop."
"They won't let you go."
That doesn't mean he can't come with. That doesn't mean they can't try. It doesn't mean Yuuji wouldn't do anything for his brother.
"Just go then," Yuuji snaps. "Go back to them like you always do. So fucking loyal. You're their dog, Sukuna! What happened to you?! You would have never-"
"You!" Sukuna snaps. "You fucking idiot, anything I do to betray them will come back to you. Ten fold. You know this, you knew this when you fucking followed me."
"We were kids," Yuuji argues. "I didn't know. I wanted to protect you-"
"I'm not arguing with you anymore, you're playing dumb with me. Don't do this shit." Sukuna shuts him down and storms into the kitchen. The dishes rattle as he drops them into the sink.
"So that's it?" Yuuji asks. "We get nowhere?"
Sukuna scoffs, "We get nowhere."
seven months later.
Yuuji has always liked the winter. It's cold and harsh, and kills everything, but it's beautiful.
The snow crunches under his feet. Soft and fluffy, cushioning his every step and glittery in the right lighting. He's sure that his cheeks are pink.
Along the side of the road in the muddied snow is a half-assembled snowman. Two tiers. Lumpy. Rocks for buttons and missing a head. Yuuji smiles at it, still. Reminiscing about his childhood. His brother. Yuuji loved building snowmen and Sukuna loved knocking them down.
He walks until he reaches a bridge. It's dark out, of course it is. That's the only time he leaves the apartment these days. He's started to feel like he's cursed. It isn't safe. He risks being seen that way, and if they know where he is…
He stands on one side of the pedestrian crossing bridge for a long time. Cars speed by beneath him. Every part of them is invisible in the darkness except for their lights. Anyone could be inside. He always imagines Sukuna. On buses, in the background of a television show that he wishes they were watching together.
The soles of his feet ache in his boots. He's been following a set of footprints for miles. He's good at tracking. He'd know the pattern of his twin's lazy saunter anywhere.
What he doesn't recognize are the other footprints that show up beside Sukuna's. There's a set of them. Then their paths cross, and then… Yuuji reaches the end of the trail.
The snow is stained red.
Just like Yuuji’s favorite shirt. His knuckles. The inside of his mouth.
There's a body in the snow. Yuuji knows immediately that it's his brother and that he's dead. Arms spread like they would be if he were making a snow angel. Only his eyes are open, and the snow is falling into them, collecting around his eyelashes, melting against his corneas because they’re still warm. Still wet.
The undisturbed snow around him says it all: he didn't run. He didn't fight back. He wanted this and let it happen.
Yuuji stares at the sets of footprints that break off into an alley. He stares at them, as the snow falls and his breath clouds in front of his face.... and then he follows.