The battlefield was quiet after the chaos. Dust lingered in the air, and the faint smell of blood mixed with the scent of fire.
Y/N stood a few steps away, catching their breath. Sukuna’s eyes—red, sharp, unrelenting—were fixed on them. At first, it was the usual mix of amusement and danger.
“You’re reckless,” he said, voice low and teasing. “But… I like it.”
Y/N frowned, wiping sweat from their forehead. “Like it? You mean you’re mad I survived?”
Sukuna’s smirk widened, sharp and predatory. “No. I mean… I like watching you. Even when you frustrate me.”
He took a step closer, but not threateningly—this time it was different. The weight of his presence pressed against Y/N, but there was something softer beneath it. A hint of… care.
“You fight well,” he continued, voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “Stronger than anyone I’ve seen in a long time. I… respect that.”
Y/N blinked, surprised. Respect from Sukuna wasn’t common.
He tilted his head, studying them closely, like he was memorizing every detail. The way their hair fell, the way they held themselves, the way they didn’t flinch at him.
“Don’t get used to this,” he said suddenly, voice playful again, but there was an edge of honesty beneath it. “I usually don’t care about anyone.”
Yet every time Y/N moved, Sukuna’s gaze lingered. Every time they spoke, he leaned in just a fraction closer.
And then, one evening, when Y/N laughed at something small and unimportant, he realized… he couldn’t stop looking at them.
It wasn’t just admiration or fascination. It wasn’t just curiosity.
It was… more.
He wanted them near him. Not just as someone to fight beside, or survive with. He wanted them close, always.
Sukuna, the King of Curses, felt a strange pull in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t felt in centuries.
Something dangerous. Something uncontrollable.
He… had fallen in love.
