wanderer - Sukuna x reader

5.

isolated 孤立した

'Follow me' Uraume promptly turned on their heel and set a quick pace for the tour, y/n following behind silently. The servant observed that the woman's feet made no sound on the floor, and her lack of cursed energy made it impossible to know she was even there- they did not doubt their master, but felt personally unsure of just how safe it was to have such a wild card on the grounds. She was clearly dangerous, considering the complex talismans tied tightly around her wrists. Uraume disliked sorcerers for the way they did things of that nature: trapping natural and beautiful power in such demeaning constraints. They'd never express it, but they hoped one day the talismans would peel gently from her sore wrists. The tour was over much sooner than Uraume had anticipated. 

As they had strolled around the extensive residence, y/n could only think of one thing: this place was empty. Each room, corridor and courtyard felt more desolate than the last and the further in they ventured the colder the lonely mountain air seemed to feel. That's what this place was. Lonely. There were little to no workers bustling around, and the concubines all remained in their respective quarters. No birds sang and not much plant life grew due to the harsh environment. All the buildings intended to house people were miles apart and Sukuna's personal quarters remained far out of view. Uraume did not take y/n there- she would only ever go if she were to be invited.

And yet, despite the deafening silence and cold hollowness of the place as a whole, y/n still found herself marvelling at just how beautiful the buildings were. The walls were decorated ceiling to floor with exquisite arts, and the varied colour schemes were all tastefully matched. Considering Sukuna's harsh and brutal demeanour it is no wonder y/n was so surprised at the sheer refinery expressed in the design of the place. The library was full of hundreds of books too; it contained what appeared at a glance to be at least a thousand books ranging from popular, coveted reads to what y/n presumed was more niche literature. As expected, it was cloaked in a fine layer of dust, but y/n knew that would be soon to change; she was going to put that library to work. 

Then finally, the monk let her to what y/n recognised to be a training area, with a grand (and largely untouched) armoury. Her small smile expanded into a childish grin and she accelerated towards the expanse of weaponry after regarding the monk with a bow, who wordlessly left her after nodding in return. Delicately tracing her hands over each tool, y/n examined the almost endless selection. Half of it was almost definitely stolen from opponents of Sukuna who had met their demise. Eventually she settled on withdrawing a beautifully crafted Tachi, with an intricately patterned golden handle and Saya. She had seen many samurai come to try and kill her using these, and more often than not those honourable samurai would serve her lethal hits- not that any of that really mattered considering her unrestrained abilities. It felt unfair to send such skill to a guaranteed death and she disliked that aspect of human culture; at least she was able to give those samurai a sense of honour as they died. 

At first, the blade had felt unnatural and heavy in her hand, but y/n quickly adjusted. Using the positioning of the sori as a reference y/n was able to grip the tachi in the correct manner and position so as to handle the heavier sword effectively. She stepped out of the armoury and into the cool evening air, finding it to be much darker outside. Damn she was in there a while.. No matter, it's not like she needed sleep anyways. She'd much rather get friendly with her new weapon. Now that she was stood in the middle of the training field, y/n was suddenly hit with a wave of self-consciousness. She had never wielded, let alone fought with any weapon before. Quite frankly she'd never needed to. It all felt so unnatural and the air around her felt as if it was pressing down upon her- what if somebody saw her and she looked like some sort of fool! 

who was she kidding, this place was deserted! nobody would see her!

and even if they did, even if they thought she looked dull as a pebble, it didn't really matter. Y/n knew she was bound to a long life on this earth and if she was going to enjoy more than a few seconds of it, she would have to let go of such trivial things as the judgement and opinions of others. She imitated a moved she had seen various soldiers do, swinging the sword without much precision or force. And so it began. 

Not too far away from her, in the bathhouse, Sukuna was not having such a good time. He'd gotten what he needed out of the concubine and she spared him no insightful conversation- she barely even gave him any fight or flirtation before and during the act. lame. 

So then there he sat, steeping alone in the steamy water as he tried to diffuse the feeling in his head that was becoming a little too familiar for Sukuna's liking. Sukuna was inclined towards a solitary life; he did what he wanted, when he wanted, and needed no companion in the process save for his chef and whatever pretty face would give him pleasure for an evening. In the day he would stay out for hours on end seeing to the pillaging of villages and the death of various sorcerers. He'd then return to his palace, perhaps spend some time with a concubine as it began to get dark and then he would eventually retreat to his chambers and spent the night by himself. Sukuna did not read the books in his library, or use the weapons in his armoury, or even study the paintings he had anymore. He lived such an isolated life. It almost felt cold at times. 

He immersed himself further in the pleasant warmth of the bathwater. Almost. 

Getting lost in his thoughts again, Sukuna considered the last time he had a genuine conversation with somebody. It had been when he had first become a sorcerer, a few decades ago. It was only a fuzzy memory now- but he clung onto that faded interaction. He had been talking with a young man in a village bar, who claimed to have seen a dragon flying high up to a nearby lonely mountain. Sukuna recalls how he chuckled in the man's face, amused by his ramblings. A small, unconscious smile graced Sukuna's sharp face as he reminisced over the banter he shared with that man. They hadn't become friends, or even exchanged names, but Sukuna decided to spare his village. And that was his way of showing gratitude for the man's brief companionship..

It was rare for Sukuna to look back fondly like this, but in the quiet moments of his alone time it was a nice break from the rest of his life. 

His silent life. 

huh?

not so silent anymore!? What was that?!

Sukuna shot up and out of his bath, water splashing over the stone floor. 

What the fuck was that noise from outside?