𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 | R. SUKUNA

14

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"What on earth are you two doing here?" A booming male voice jolts you awake, prompting you to pry your eyes open.

The relentless discomfort in your neck and back signals a restless sleep in an awkward position. Slowly lifting your head from Sukuna's chest, you notice him stirring beside you.

Turning your gaze towards the source of the voice, you find the school janitor, arms folded and a disapproving expression etched on his face, scrutinizing the unusual scene.

Reality hits you like a sudden downpour, and with a swift motion, you push Sukuna away, scrambling to your feet to straighten your disheveled skirt.

Sukuna stretches lazily, unleashing a yawn, and reclines on the bench, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

"We, uh, got stuck here since yesterday," you announce, your voice carrying a hint of exhaustion as you rub your eyes to banish lingering drowsiness.

"Stuck?" The janitor scoffs, his annoyance evident.

"Whatever. I don't care. Both of you better clear out before I report this to your homeroom teacher," he grumbles, a scowl deepening on his face.

His dismissive tone pricks at your nerves. This predicament was hardly your doing, and the legality of keeping students confined in a school overnight begins to gnaw at your thoughts.

Glancing back at Sukuna, who has already succumbed to another round of sleep, you approach and gently nudge him.

"Sukuna, wake up!" you whisper urgently.

"Fuck off," Sukuna retorts, scowling with his eyes closed. You scoff and take a step back. "Sure," you mutter, rolling your eyes as you descend the gym stairs. Despite the unjustified attitude, you bow down and apologize once again—although deep down, you know it wasn't your fault to begin with.

"Take that brat with you," the janitor grumbles. "Um, he's your problem now," you retort with a fake smile before hastily making your way out. Engaging in a confrontation with the janitor this early in the morning is the last thing you need.

As you navigate the gym exit, you notice passing students throwing glances your way. Disoriented and probably looking worse for wear, you couldn't blame them for their curious stares.

Opting to head home, you feel the fatigue and hunger weighing you down.

The last semblance of a meal was Sukuna's yakisoba from the night before. Returning to your classroom, you locate your bag in its usual spot, thankfully untouched.

Grabbing your bag, you make your way downstairs. In the hallway, you accidentally stumble into one of your classmates. They asked about your destination, but you offered only a brief response, "Home," your tiredness evident in your voice.

The journey back home is short, just like any other day. Upon reaching your door, you input the security codes and turn the handle, swinging the door open. To your surprise, six people stand near the entrance, holding cameras and fabrics.

"Ah, she's here," the stranger with the blonde bob remarks, eyeing you up and down.

Your eyes narrow in confusion. "Who are you?" you question as you step inside, closing the door behind you.

"Measure her," the man commands, dismissing your query. A couple of women approach, swiftly wrapping a tape measure around your waist, causing you to yelp.

Glancing over at your maids for assistance, you find them standing silently, their expressions conveying a subtle sense of sorrow.

"29," they declare, moving on to measure your hips. The blonde man taps a ruler in his hands, a dissatisfied look on his face.