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♡
Entering the culling game had been accidental. You had been fighting a curse, and it had led you into a colony. Now the curse was dead at your feet, and you were locked into the game.
Rain festered in dark bubbling clouds overhead, threatening to burst at any second and wash away the trickles of purple blood streaming around your shoes. It stained the tip of your old shoelace.
The same shoelace that had started so much trouble in your life.
Transfixed, you watched the material soak up the blood and turned a much blacker shade. It seeped even further, reaching the midpoint of your lace where it slowed, and stilled.
You weren't all that interested in a culling game. You were already wondering if it was possible to leave when you encountered Kogane, the creature who offered insight into the game, like the list of players.
You spotted Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuji on that list.
Any thought of abandoning the game left your mind.
♡
In a short space of time, you had battled four sorcerers. It had required no effort to wipe out the first two sorcerers. It was the third that had made you toil for survival. It pained you to acknowledge that you won because he had already depleted himself in a previous battle.
It was the fourth who tossed you around like a ragdoll.
Fortune had been on your side, though.
Another sorcerer waded into the battle and finished off that fourth sorcerer on your behalf.
He cut a strange figure: neon-green hair and piercings dotted above his eyebrows, following the arch. He wore knuckle-dusters, and long chains dangled from his belt. He also wore a locket, which he wiped clean of blood once he moved away from that dead sorcerer.
Then, this green-haired sorcerer faced you.
He approached slowly. His boots were heavy. He clenched the knuckle-dusters tightly.
Now you understood.
He had spared your life so he could take it for himself.
"Jackass," you spat, readying yourself to fight. "If you think I'm gonna hold back - …"
The green-haired sorcerer dropped to his knees and bowed before you.
His face remained an inch from the ground.
Overwhelmed with emotion, he began to tremble.
"It would be my greatest honour," he said, "to protect and serve you, Bride of Sukuna."
You stared at him. You loosened your stance.
Your response was flat: "I'm not his bride."
"Please forgive me for defying you," the sorcerer said, fully placing his forehead against the ground. "But Lord Sukuna has granted you his mark. Tradition dictates that the title is thus yours, and - …"
You snorted, and shook your head. Your left hand rose.
On your ring-finger was the same marking that Sukuna bore between his brows. It was a simple dot surrounded on either side by jagged lines, matching the other etchings all over his stolen body.
The sorcerer peeped up at you when you snorted, though he instantly lowered his gaze as soon as you looked back down at him.
"I don't care what it dictates," you said. "Tradition bores the Hell out of me. Tell me, how long have you been a follower of Sukuna?"
He sucked in a breath at your blatant dismissal of Sukuna's own supposed title.
"Since the Heian period, my Lady."
"Don't call me that." You squinted at him. "You're really that old?"
"Yes. I have taken many forms. If this appearance displeases you, I will change at once."
"No. I like it."
Tears welled in his eyes. He sniffled.
For once in your life, you were speechless.
This sorcerer was so devoted that the merest compliment from you, tethered to Sukuna by the faintest of threads, had left him in shambles. His shoulders shuddered. He wiped his cheeks, glistening in the light.
Keeping him around would be foolish. It was obvious he had some screws loose.
But he was useful.
In a game where there were sorcerers much stronger than you, he was an asset.
Besides, there was something thrilling in having someone bow to you.
You asked, "What's your name?"
"Matsumoto."
"Stand up, Matsumoto."
Matsumoto stood swiftly. He was tall. His build reminded you of Todo Aoi. Just as bullish and big.
"You're willing to sacrifice your life for me?"
"More than that, my Lady," Matsumoto said. "Whatever you asked of me. Mind, body, soul."
This time around, you decided my Lady had a nice ring to it after all.
♡
One thing you realised quickly: most of the sorcerers in this game were not powerful enough to kill Sukuna, but killing his supposed 'bride' was a solid consolation prize for most of them.
You had been wise to bring Matsumoto. He was a machine. He slashed and slaughtered and wept any time that you thanked him for it.
You were beginning to think there was no-one he couldn't handle.
At least, that was before a female sorcerer appeared.
She hoisted up Matsumoto, and tossed the man through several concrete walls.
He was buried beneath a heaping pile of rubble.
You heaved a sigh. It had been nice while it lasted.
You faced her.
She was stronger than you. You sensed she was old - as old as Matsumoto or perhaps a little more, it was hard to tell. She launched herself at you.
But she did not kill you.
She grasped you by the throat and used her momentum to carry you both, so brutally fast that the world blurred and the wind nipped your throat until your back hit a hard wall - not a wall, you realised, as you slumped down.
It was a seat.
She had taken you into an empty stadium and forced you to sit high in the stands, overlooking the field below. She chose to land down there, soft and light on her feet.
Strange. The air was cold and brisk. The seat creaked beneath you.
Her voice rang through the stadium: "I have waited a thousand years to fight Sukuna."
Despite the distance between you, she heard you.
"Then what are you bothering me for? Fight him. Kill him, for all I care."
Laughter sounded from the entrance of the stadium. It was soft, at first. Then it rose and rose until its manic pitch cracked against the high ceiling of the stadium and echoed all around. It was not hard to recognise it.
Only Sukuna laughed like that.
He emerged from underneath an arched entrance. His arms were hidden beneath the sleeves of his kimono as he kept his hands clasped.
Light poured over him.
Two things occurred to you at once.
Firstly, he had changed bodies. His new body belonged to Fushiguro Megumi.
Secondly, the sight of him did not inspire any jolt of anxiety or fear in you. Instead, you felt a mild bubble of interest pop within your stomach.
"Do you really believe that Yorozu could kill me?" Sukuna called out to you. "Has my bride so little faith in me?"
"Believe? No. Hope? Yes."
Another round of cracking laughter.
Yorozu, this spiky-haired sorcerer, took the opportunity to charge at Sukuna. A cloud of dust remained where he stood. He had evaded her.
Lazily, your eyes followed the pair around the stadium as Yorozu took every opportunity to land a blow against Sukuna, but failed each time.
You wondered if you could slip out unnoticed.
But then the dust cleared, and you found Yorozu standing only a few rows down from where you sat. Sukuna stood in front of her, his face full of plain disinterest. He smoothed back his hair, and scratched his neck.
The second eye, on the left side of his face, roamed toward you.
How odd it was to look at him and know that he had gotten to Megumi.
How? And what had happened to Yuji?
"I want to be the one who kills you," Yorozu told Sukuna. "I want you to be the one who kills me. If you're alive after I win, what will you give me?"
"Everything," Sukuna said simply. "If I lose, that would mean I'm dead…and it doesn't matter what you do with a corpse."
"D-Does that include…m-marriage?"
This time, Sukuna didn't laugh. "Whatever you want."
Now you leaned forward. She wanted to marry him?
Yorozu flushed and clenched her fists, staring at Sukuna. He was idly picking lint from his kimono, stifling what looked like a yawn.
"I heard you say it!" she yelled out. "I'll be your true wife! And I won't allow a mistress!"
She turned to point at you.
"What made you give your mark to someone like her? She degrades you! I'll skin her! I'll eat her organs - I'll consume whatever it is you saw in her and house it within myself. And I'll destroy three villages for the ceremony! A binding vow - …"
"But you'll know."
Yorozu's face became gnarled and mean. She glared at you.
"Know what?"
"That you weren't the first choice."
Wrath was not quite accurate for what flashed in her eyes.
Yorozu could crush you, easily.
She could pull out your spine, bend and twist it around like a rope.
She tilted her head forward. Her lips peeled against her teeth in a snarl.
If you stopped talking, and showed some respect, she might spare you.
"You'll have to fight for it," you said. "When all I had to do was ask him to tie my shoelace."
But then it was so much sweeter to speak your mind.
"So," you finished calmly, "you might eat my organs. But it'll eat you alive to know you were, and always will be, runner-up. Even worse, you're runner-up in a competition that I don't even care to win."
It happened quickly: Yorozu attacked, splintering row after row of seats as she used them to propel herself upward, aiming to reach you.
You braced yourself. Pain did not scare you. You had been on the brink of death before.
Now the fall seemed less frightening, a simple tip forward into a ravine. Eternal darkness, one long dream. What was so scary about that?
Yorozu reeled back her right arm as she made her last leap. She swung.
Sukuna caught the hit. He had placed himself in the row immediately in front of yours.
He took hold of Yorozu's fist, in a manner that appeared almost gentle for how little strength he needed to exert, absorbing all of her impetus and using it to throw her backward. She landed hard on the field and skid several feet away until she smacked against a wall.
Chunks of stone fell, covering her.
Sukuna did not face you. He moved his head to his right, though, and looked at you from the corner of two of his eyes.
"That mouth," he said.
Sukuna shook his head. Then he chuckled, and turned around fully.
"Aren't you going to admire my new vessel?"
"No. It makes no difference if it's Yuji or Megumi," you snapped. "They're both strong enough to take back their bodies."
"Do you know whose body Yorozu is using?"
"No."
"That is Fushiguro Tsumiki. When I kill her, in this form, it'll snuff out her brother's soul. Will you tell me he's strong enough then?"
"It'll give him even more fire to fight."
"Willing to bet on that?" Sukuna's canines were sharp as he smiled. "Another pact, perhaps?"
"No. You're already messing with our current pact."
His eyebrow rose. "Am I?"
"Bride? There was no mention of marriage in that pact," you huffed. "Only that you would own my soul."
"You're right. There was no mention of it. There didn't need to be."
Your eyes narrowed.
"Owning your soul is not enough," Sukuna continued. "That bond is invisible, known only to you and me. Others heard rumours. So I wanted to make it certain. I wanted all sorcerers to know that you are bound to me, and me alone. So I marked you. Your soul will be mine. So too will your hand."
Now his smile morphed into a wide grin.
"Does it infuriate you? I was hoping it would."
"It surprises me," you replied. "I figured you only wanted to kill me."
"I do. But I never specified when. It might be tomorrow. Or it might be a thousand years from this moment. In between, I think you'll make a good wife. Don't you?"
Slowly, you rose from your seat.
Because he stood in in a row of seats one level lower than yours, you came face-to-face, mere inches apart.
"You won't exist in a thousand years."
"No?"
He was dangerously close. His tongue ran over his lips as he watched your own move.
"No. That night in Shibuya, I told you that you'll be exorcised. Not today. But one day soon."
"That mouth," he said again.
He lifted his right hand. He tapped the space between your brows.
"You know, the mark is supposed to be placed here. That's what tradition says."
It would mirror the placement of his own tattoo.
"You don't strike me as the kind to care about tradition any more than I do," he added.
That Sukuna had guessed so accurately about your opinion on tradition did not escape you either.
"But that is exactly where I'll place it - …"
He cut himself off. He pursed his lips.
"Excuse me a moment, would you?"
Sukuna was still facing you. But he extended his left arm behind him in time to grab Yorozu's wrist as she attempted to catch him off-guard. His eyes, all of them, never left yours as he ground Yorozu into the seat to his left.
She managed to extract herself from his grip, and retreat.
She was drawing fast, panting breaths.
Sukuna didn't look at her. He was unruffled.
His lids were low. His mouth was a straight line.
"But that is exactly where I'll place it once the marriage is finalised. It was you who said you would take nothing less than the title of wife, after all."
"And you said I didn't deserve it. What changed?"
"I'll let you figure it out."
Yorozu let out a piercing shriek. "Sukuna!"
The right corner of his mouth twitched. It was not a smile.
"In fact, I'll give you until the end of her life to think about it," he said. "So think fast."
♡
At some point during Sukuna and Yorozu's brawl, a presence made itself known beside you. You looked to your right. It was Matsumoto. He had dragged himself out of his makeshift tomb to find you in the stadium. He dropped heavily onto the seat beside yours. He was healing himself.
"There you are, Matsumoto."
He bowed his head. "I apologise for failing you."
"Whatever. You're just in time."
He watched Yorozu wipe blood from her cheek before she chased Sukuna. Your eyes glazed. It was one punch after another.
You were actually mulling over what had made Sukuna mark you and suggest something like marriage.
After all, he had your soul. Even if he wanted the other sorcerers in this world to know you were bound to him, he hardly needed to marry you for that to be clear. He could have paraded you around, forced you to stand at his side, made you do what he had once suggested and lay at the bottom of his throne.
But he left a mark on your hand instead.
So what was it?
Yorozu jabbed at Sukuna. He dodged, indolently moving from one side to another.
She then expanded her domain. It took mere seconds for Sukuna to shatter it.
She was bloody and broken on the ground, staring up at him with that irritating sheen of awe in her eyes.
He should not be admired like that. He already had too much pride.
You recognised it.
Sukuna loomed over Yorozu.
"Techniques like yours with poor cursed energy efficiency always tend to end up as one-trick ponies," he said. "When push comes to shove, you'll always fall back on what you're used to. It'll either be the liquid metal or your insect armour. I've already adapted to them."
It struck a chord within you to hear him say that.
"Lord Sukuna is majestic when he fights," Matsumoto breathed out.
You grimaced, drawn from your thoughts.
"Don't fawn, Matsumoto. It's annoying."
"I apologise, my Lady."
There was a beat of silence.
"Over him. Don't fawn over him," you said. "But you can fawn over me, though. To be clear."
"I understand."
Another beat of silence.
"You look very nice today, my Lady," Matsumoto said.
You crossed your arms. "We'll work on it. But that's a good start."
For the hundredth time, you heard Matsumoto sniffle and saw him dab at his joy-filled eyes.
♡
Eventually, the fight was over.
Sukuna mounted the staircase as if there were not lashings of blood splattered over most of the steps.
Matsumoto sucked in a breath as Sukuna approached. It made you roll your eyes.
Sukuna glanced coolly over Matsumoto. Whether Sukuna knew him or not, you could not tell by his expression. Matsumoto was too jittery and excited. He barely contained himself, like he wanted to spring from his seat and drop to the ground in front of Sukuna.
He was holding himself back only because you had warned him not to do anything like that.
You looked at Yorozu's body. You remembered how cold it had been before you almost died. You wondered if she had been as cold, or if her death at Sukuna's hands had warmed her.
"Matsumoto has protected me in this culling game," you said.
Sukuna continued to watch Matsumoto. But he addressed his question to you.
"Your tone sounds like you're implying I should be grateful for that. Like I should thank him. Would you be so bold?"
"I would."
You moved your head. It drew Sukuna's focus to you. You met his eyes.
You said, "Thank him."
Matsumoto became tense. His body stilled.
But Sukuna only tilted back his head and let out a laugh. He granted Matsumoto a brief nod.
"Thank you. Now leave us."
Matsumoto was likely relieved to be dismissed. He rushed off, blubbering, cupping his hands over his mouth to hold back his euphoria.
Sukuna took Matsumoto's place.
"You continued in this game when you saw Fushiguro Megumi and Itadori Yuji were playing," he said.
Had he been watching you himself? Or had he sent Matsumoto? You were assessing the way Sukuna had looked at him earlier.
He asked, "Was it really Itadori Yuji you were hoping to find?"
You left him unanswered.
His shoulder was pressed against yours. He surveyed the damage that had occurred in the stadium. He brushed some ash from his kimono and slouched lower in his seat.
You were intensely aware of how empty it was, how isolated and cold, in the stadium. Even farther than that.
Sukuna rested his head against the back of his seat. He peered up at the hole in the ceiling of the stadium, through which a thick stream of moonlight poured.
This was what it would be like, if you were wrong and Sukuna lived another thousand years with your soul in the palm of his hand: empty, cold, isolated.
The two of you, passing time, at once together and still entirely separated by too many things. There would be followers around you, followers just like Matsumoto who would do your bidding without hesitation, and find utter elation in the weakest of acknowledgements for it.
But it would still be the two of you, if he chose to let out your soul, and toy with you a little while longer.
And you would lounge, bored, entertained only by each other.
Because he did entertain you.
Yes, you mused. Because you were arrogant, vain, disrespectful.
Because ultimately, you were just like -...
"Lord Sukuna."
His name reverberated through the stadium.
Uraume was at the entrance, where Sukuna had been earlier. They had called him.
Casually, Sukuna lifted his head and looked down at Uraume. He offered a nod.
Uraume left, without ever even looking at the corpse of Yorozu nearby.
It seemed Uraume did not care for her.
"Tell me, Bride. Have you figured it out?"
"I think so."
You spoke to him, quietly.
"I'll never care if you value me. I'll never care if you love me."
With his gaze still pinned on where Uraume had been, Sukuna nodded.
"And I'll never care if you admire me," he said. "I'll never care if you want me."
At the same time, you both said: "But it'd disappoint me if you did."
Sukuna looked at you. He smiled.
He reached out and tapped that little spot between your brows again.
"Until next time."
It was what he had said last time, too, when you had parted from him.
Then he was gone.
♡