𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 | R. SUKUNA

18

• • •

Sukuna stepped out of the house, making his way down the road. A part of him felt a twinge of guilt for leaving you alone, but he had to remind himself of the complexities of his feelings.

Meeting you again had stirred emotions within him that he wasn't ready to confront. He acknowledged the growing feelings but was reluctant to accept them. Distance seemed like the only solution, at least for now.

Pulling out his phone, Sukuna dialed the first person that came to mind, Kenjaku.

"What's up?" Kenjaku's voice came through on the other end.

"Where are you right now?" Sukuna responded, tapping his foot on the ground while scanning his surroundings.

"I just ended school, why?"

"I'll come, wait there," Sukuna sighed and hung up. He needed a distraction, and Kenjaku was the person who could provide that.

You flinched at the sound of approaching footsteps. You desperately hoped it was Sukuna, praying that he was merely just playing around and hadn't actually abandoned you.

Fear gripped you.

The door twisted open, revealing Sakiko. A shiver traveled down your spine, and you found yourself frozen in place. She took a painfully slow step inside, her eyes scrutinizing your room before emitting a disapproving hum.

"You've got a boyfriend, hm?" she inquired, taking further steps inside, her gaze icy and cold.

You unconsciously fidgeted with your fingers, attempting to formulate a response. "Well, I—something of that sort..." you mumbled, your gaze fixed on the floor.

She scoffed, adjusting her glasses. "Boyfriend is absurd, but you have a close intimacy with a boy who isn't in a relationship with you?"

Sakiko signaled to the maids, who promptly disappeared to fetch something.

"I—" Before you could respond, she cut you off. "I don't remember raising you as a whore," she mused, leaving your lips parted briefly in disbelief.

Sakiko's aversion to any form of intimacy with a boy before marriage was a principle deeply instilled in your mind during your younger years.

"I've not touched him like that-" you began to defend yourself, but you were abruptly silenced as she raised her hand.

"Cease it," she commanded, her expression darkening. She turned to the maid who returned with a long black ruler.

"The wall," she demanded, her tone firm. "It seems we must restart your lessons from today."

Reluctantly, you followed Sakiko's instructions, a heavy pit settling in your stomach. The room felt suffocating as you approached the designated wall. The cold, unyielding ruler in Sakiko's hands seemed to symbolize her rigid expectations.

She stood behind you, her disapproving gaze burning into your back. "Hands flat against the wall," she ordered, her voice cutting through the silence. The maids stood at a distance, their presence a silent witness to the unfolding scene.

As you pressed your hands against the wall, you couldn't help but recall the countless times Sakiko had drilled into you the consequences of any perceived impropriety. It was a harsh lesson, one you thought you had left behind.

Sakiko raised the ruler, her disapproval palpable. "We will ensure that you understand the importance of maintaining propriety," she declared sternly.

The ruler came down with a sharp smack against your thighs, the sound reverberating through the room as you let out a yelp of cry. Each strike a reminder of the strict standards she expected you to uphold.