Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

013. Make A Wish

You were running out of time, less than two weeks to accomplish the task Sukuna had given you and you still doubted if you could do it. You sat up in bed as you watched the sunlight stream through the window, heralding the arrival of a new day, jumped out of bed to get to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and there it was. A small glass jar containing the favor you had asked Kenjaku for on the day of the harvest. You carefully examined the whitish mushrooms with brown caps.

Amanita phalloides, the most deadly mushroom for humans. From what you had read in one of the giant encyclopedias in the library, it has caused the death of numerous people by being very similar to some mushrooms that are edible. The toxins in this mushroom act on the liver and kidneys, resulting in liver failure. You could serve it to your victim in a mushroom omelet and the poisonous mushroom would take care of the rest. All you had to do was the hardest part, pick a victim.

It had to be a human, so Kenjaku and the rest of the curses didn't enter into the equation. Not being strong enough, it couldn't be someone with a cursed technique. That's how you ruled out Uraume and Yorozu. Whichever way you looked at it, your target had to be a servant. You couldn't kill Mrs. Inoue, you saw her as if she was your tender grandmother who worries that you eat well so that you grow up a lot. You could never betray her friendship for the sake of the king.

"What do I do?" you asked yourself anxiously, putting the jar back in its place.

You entered the dining room promptly as you did every morning for breakfast. You wished the servants good morning along with a smile. Now, it was harder for you to choose who to kill, as they had all been so kind to you over the past few weeks. They greeted you, chatted with you about their lives outside the castle, and looked out for you. The vast majority of servants saw you as just another fellow servant who was there because of a terrible fate, rather than a figure to be feared. You felt like a hypocrite greeting them when inside you knew the terrible fate you had planned for an unfortunate man. As soon as they knew you killed one of them, you could not restore their trust in you. You approached your designated place and were surprised to see that Mrs. Inoue was the one in charge of your chair.

"Happy birthday, Miss," she congratulated you with a smile.

"Oh, you remembered! Thank you!" You said before hugging her gently.

You had spent so much time worrying about studying, taking care of your sister and choosing who you were going to kill that you had forgotten your own birthday. The days passed quickly between your responsibilities. Wake up, study, train, sleep, repeat. A vicious cycle filled with anxiety, insecurity and effort. Life at the castle really was complicated, but there were good parts. It was nice to know that someone cared enough to remember this special date.

Sukuna arched his brow at how tightly you hugged the lady. He didn't understand why they were making a fuss about the anniversary of your arrival in this horrible world. He doesn't remember how he came to this world. His earliest recollection was opening his eyes and being thirsty for human blood. From the moment he stepped onto this existential plane, he knew he had a greater purpose than being a mere man-eating curse. Birthdays don't matter when greatness is waiting.

"Today is your birthday?" Sukuna asked you curiously as soon as you sat down at the table. You nodded excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me? If your birthday was so important, why didn't you let him know?"

"You never asked," you replied. "Touche" he thought before taking his glass of wine. "Yorozu hasn't shown up yet?" You asked him while examining the room.

For the past month, Yorozu has not left his master's side even for a moment. She accompanied him when he did paperwork in his office, they trained together until sunset and followed him everywhere like a puppy obedient to its mother. So much so that the servants began to call her: "the dirt on the king's fingernail" or, as her friends call her, "the dirt". It was rare that she was not present as soon as you entered the room.