OLD NAME - AISURU
Manipulator-mastermind.
A psychological phenomenon where hostages or victims develop positive feelings, empathy, or loyalty towards their captors or abusers, sometimes to the point of defending them. It can occur in situations whe...
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Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose, irritation simmering just below the surface. A dead, rotting body was not the sight he wanted to greet him at dawn.
"Uraume!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls. When they arrived, Uraume's eyes widened at the scene—Number 10, lifeless and crumpled on the floor. Without a word, they knelt and began to clean up the mess, their movements efficient, though they couldn't hide the confusion in their gaze.
Sukuna's eyes narrowed. He didn't need to ask who was responsible. His mind raced, considering his next move. This wasn't just defiance. He'd expected you to break eventually, but not like this. How could you have unraveled so completely, so swiftly? He stared at the lifeless body, annoyance giving way to a cold, calculating curiosity. He'd need to adapt his plans. You were becoming far more interesting than he'd anticipated.
Sukuna's eyes flickered to Uraume. "Where is Number 29?" he asked, his tone icy.
"She's in the training room, Lord Sukuna," Uraume replied, their voice steady despite the tension in the air.
With a sigh, Sukuna left Uraume to the unpleasant task of cleaning up the mess, striding down the corridor toward the left wing. As he neared the training room, he could hear the rhythmic sound of a blade slicing through bamboo.
You were there, cutting the stalks effortlessly, each strike precise and controlled. Your face was emotionless, almost serene, as if you were detached from the world around you.
"If you make a mess, you clean it," Sukuna said, his voice laced with disdain. He didn't need to specify what he meant; the lifeless body he'd found spoke for itself.
But you gave no indication you'd heard him, your eyes focused on the next cut, your movements unbroken and mechanical. You were completely ignoring him, as if he were a mere nuisance rather than the King of Curses.
A dangerous silence hung in the air. Sukuna's gaze darkened, a vein pulsing visibly on his forehead. How dare you, someone so insignificant, dismiss him? He felt a surge of anger, his fingers twitching as he fought the urge to lash out. He could crush you with a mere thought, and yet here you were, acting as if he didn't exist.
