𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

𝐕𝗼𝐢𝐝 ✵ 𝐑𝐲𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Warning/Disclaimer: abuse + blood (+ imagine him in his real form)

A/N:  don't expect any cute romance, it's sukuna

Words count: 1.5k

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"The offering has been chosen"

The news quickly toured the village. A wave of relief passed through the narrow streets where the inhabitants dared themselves their first outing since the arrival of the demon, the king of curses himself, Sukuna. A demon who had proclaimed as his own the mountain in which lived the hundred villagers who constituted the village of Kyohi.

Amused by the despair of the men who had immediately abandoned the fight, Sukuna felt generous and imposed the following conditions:

"Offer me one of your lives and I'll see what I can do with the others"

The first reaction of the inhabitants had been to flee. It was impossible to trust the demon whose cruelty was such that the rumors of his repeated massacres had reached Kyohi's isolated ears. Attempts to escape followed, but after a few days and as the putrid smell of blood, from the forest, began to climb back to those whose fear had confined them to their homes, the village chief spoke out.

"The offering will be brought tonight"

They could no longer afford to wait while their lives depended on the changing mood of the demon who had found a place in a cave high up. From the ground, he could perceive the two pairs of red eyes snickering at their panic. Snickering at their weakness, their humanity.

The announcement resounded in the streets and for the first time, the villagers left the humidity of their house to take a look at the offering. Like a spectacle, the chief made the procession pass by the main road. To appease the community; here was his explanation.

"It's mostly to inflate your ego..."

"Shut up, ignorant woman. Don't waste your last words in hatred and lift up your head, be proud. You are about to save your village."

"My village..."

Who to choose? Who to sacrifice? Logically, those whose feet were already close to death should have been the only candidates. And yet, here they were, dragging a young woman through these streets.

She was scrutinized, people trying to recognize her facial features far too soft for death. Why sacrifice such a young one? And then they recognized her. One recognized the loneliness in her features, the contempt that had been spat on her face since her arrival in the village.

The refugee. The one who had fled the famine to hide in their trash.

A rat no one would regret.

"My village..." she repeated, taking a look at the half-open door around her. "It must be happy to get rid of such waste"

"Y/N! I will not repeat myself: stop those hateful words. I'm giving you a chance to thank us for everything we've done for you, so take it."

"How can I seize such an opportunity when my hands are tied?" the offering questioned as she raised her bound fists.

Arriving at the foot of the mountain, the chief dismissed his men. Now protected from the gaze of his subjects, he was able to ditch his Good Samaritan facade.

"Dirty little bitch!" he spat at her with a blow to the back, throwing her on the ground. His jaw was clenched, his frustration creating a grimace on his wrinkled face. "You should only thank me. A child like you with no future should thank me for ending its pathetic life."