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The Flowers After a Storm
He laughs, sneering, giggling at the dormancies of life before him. Humanity and Curses. "You're such an annoying brat," a voice calls out. Sukuna pats the curse on the on the shoulder, as if they're great friends all of a sudden. But what difference is there between this "man" and that thing? So much. Too much in fact.
"Before you go on and be the mindless idiot you curses are, let me think," he demanded. 'By the time I try and chase down that kid...'
*BADUMP *BADUMP
'This brat would've already switched back with me just in time. Bummer. But what would trouble them the most is this... If I were to bring back this idiot, you'd be back at square one where you have to ask big ol strong me, to save your weak ass.' As he thinks this, a smirk crosses his face.
*BADUMP *BADUMP
"Hey. We're gonna kill those kids and destroy their dumb power of friendship," Sukuna states, as the right hand he is inhabiting reconstructs itself previously. "Follow me." Turning, he waves the same healed finger to beckon the idiot curse to follow as he said. But only a heart beats uncontrollably.
The curse sweats continuously as it stares with fear at the man before him. One could possibly foresee or even hear his thoughts. Thoughts that match the tempo of its heart. A thing that it surprisingly has.
Due to its inhumane and animalistic nature, the curse generates a similar attack from previously. "You fool," Sukuna sneers, as a visible vein appears on the side of his forehead. The curse screams as the blast is shot, and as if he was on cue, Sukuna regenerates the other damaged hand and stops the attack... gracefully? And he seems to noticed. Regretful as such.
The curse's mouth is agape, as Sukuna grins, already back in tune with the fight, feeding us some knowledge from all those years he's experienced. "I guess you don't like taking walks, well, it's in your kinds nature that you don't leave your birthplaces. Well, well. That's good I guess."
Time seemed to slip, with Sukuna practically teleporting to the curse, speaking cold words. "Die here then..." His hand whips at the curse back into the ground the second its face made contact with it. Crumbs of rubble splatter, like a raindrop to a puddle.
Sukuna lifts his foot up, above the groaning cursed spirit that lays flat. "Do your best, man..." Sukuna stomps it foot on the mouth of the cursed spirit, crumbling the bridge as he knows it. But, the curse grabs Sukuna's ankle. "Oh!" Sukuna gasps playfully.
The curse tries to swing with all of its might to hopefully do something against it. And just like its birth, it was a complete failure with part of its arm sliced clean off. As soon as it realizes, Sukuna sits on a large piece of falling rubble, holding the arm like a plaything.
"Unlike humans, who value their bodies (to a certain extent), you may be a cursed spirit and all, but do you value your arm just as they would? The curse sweats more as it does before, as Sukuna cackles and mocks the curse all in one moment after another where the rubble then falls into the water and so does the barrier that hides everything.
