"Well, good morning. You're the real reason to wake up early."
"Sheriff, that's my daughter. Focus on the meeting."
"Oh, I'm focused... just on the best part."
"He's hopeless."
"We're doomed."
"Y/n, maybe after this we can, you know, debrief."
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'Intruder?'
The next day dragged on for Y/n like an eternity. Her body was sore, weak, and every breath seemed heavier than the last. She lay on the floor of the dimly lit room, her mind still reeling from the torment of the previous night. Her hand throbbed painfully from Sukuna’s cigarette burn, a cruel reminder of the situation she was trapped in.
Kenjaku entered, carrying a tray of food. His stitched forehead gleamed in the dull light as he set it down beside her. “You should eat,” he said, his voice cold and indifferent. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Y/n turned her face away from the food, her stomach churning. She wouldn’t accept anything from her captors, no matter how weak she felt. With a firm shake of her head, she kept her gaze on the floor.
Kenjaku sighed, unfazed by her defiance. “Suit yourself. You’ll regret it.”
Moments later, Mahito and Naoya entered. Y/n’s muscles tensed at the sight of them, her body instinctively recoiling. Mahito approached her with that twisted grin plastered on his face, crouching down to her level.
“You really should eat,” he taunted, his voice sickly sweet. “We haven’t done anything to it… yet.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
Naoya, his arms crossed, sneered down at her. “Playing tough, huh? We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Y/n remained silent, glaring at the floor, determined not to show any weakness.
Irritation flashed in Naoya’s eyes as he stepped closer, but before he could act, Sukuna’s voice cut through the air. “Enough.”
He rose from his seat, his towering figure casting a long shadow over Y/n as he strode toward her. Without warning, he grabbed her wrist, his grip bruising, and hauled her to her feet. Y/n gritted her teeth, refusing to let out a sound. He dragged her across the room to the large table where he held his meetings, his men watching with growing interest.
With a powerful shove, Sukuna threw her onto the table. Y/n gasped as her back hit the hard surface, the air knocked from her lungs. Before she could gather herself, Sukuna yanked her roughly by the collar, tearing her shirt. The fabric ripped with a sharp sound, and she was left exposed.
The room burst into laughter and jeers. Mahito clapped his hands in excitement, jumping in place like a child at a twisted carnival. Naoya leaned back, smirking with satisfaction.
Y/n’s breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to pull away, her hands gripping the edge of the table, but Sukuna’s men crowded in closer. They seized her limbs, holding her in place as Sukuna leaned closer, a sinister smile spreading across his face.
“You think you can resist?” he taunted, his voice low and mocking. He pulled a glinting knife from his belt, its blade catching the dim light as he traced it lightly across her skin. “I’m just getting started. Imagine all the ways I could make you scream.”
Y/n's heart raced as tears began to blur her vision, her breath coming in short gasps. She sobbed, anger and fear mixing in a tempest of emotions. Sukuna pressed the blade against her, the cold metal biting into her flesh. “I could take my time with you,” he continued, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Every cut will remind you of your place.”
Mahito’s laughter echoed through the room, the sound twisted and gleeful. Naoya watched with a smirk, enjoying the display of power. Y/n’s mind screamed for her to fight, to push against the weight of her captors, but all she could do was endure the torment.
As the knife traced along her body, Sukuna leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “You’ll learn to beg for mercy,” he whispered, reveling in her anguish. “And I’ll enjoy every moment of it.”
But just as despair threatened to consume her, a sharp crack split the air. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hideout, instantly silencing the room.
Every head snapped toward the entrance, the laughter and jeering dying instantly. Sukuna’s hand paused, his eyes narrowing as the tension thickened in the room.
Then, another crack, louder this time. The air seemed to shift, thick with something ominous.
The intruders had arrived, and they weren’t here for games.
