wanderer - Sukuna x reader

10.

Leap of faith  信仰の飛躍

Sukuna lounged in his throne as the midday autumn sun burnt through the windows of the hall. His chin balanced lazily on his fist and his leg hung over the opposite armrest while one of his spare hands passed kamutoke between its fingers. Narrow piercing rubies burnt holes into a spot on the ground in front of him as he absent-mindedly glared. With a stark movement, Sukuna's spare hand clutched the grip of kamutoke and placed the blade flat against his drumming heart, the pounding against his ribcage so intense that the vibrations carried through the blade and reached the man's sweaty palm. Knuckles turning white, he gripped the tool harder as he breathed heavily, attempting to subdue his thrashing heart. Sukuna hated this. 

Throughout his rise to power, Sukuna had always held one thing close: control. He never got ahead of himself in battle, he never lashed out during meetings or negotiations, and he especially never went on wild goose chases to catch his heart like some puerile school girl! 

So how come his chest ached as if his heart was trying to break free of it's bone prison?

He was aware that he had found an unusual solace in his now friend, y/n- but he was unsure of what that had to do with it. Having racked his brain, it was becoming increasingly apparent that this was the only thing in Sukuna's life which could've changed to cause such an usual loss of control. At first, he had believed it to be a result of her powers. After all, she was said to be a demon, was she not? Perhaps her demonic powers couldn't all be contained in her tight bindings? But that simply didn't sit correctly with him. Sukuna had been the puppet of a oni once before, and although he was unwelcome to the feeling just as he was to this new one, it was undeniable that there was a difference. There were no words to describe this difference, however. And what's more, all the symptoms were the same..

Sukuna had found himself landed with a strange affinity towards y/n. It was almost as if, at times, he wanted to go out of his way to please her. To make her smile, or laugh. This was outrageously unusual. Sukuna never went out of his way for anyone; he had never bowed down to any man, woman, curse or god- and yet all of a sudden he found himself picking dried leaves from this woman's hair after she fell down? It wasn't even as if he'd been rough or displeased to assist her either. As a matter of fact, he'd volunteered all four of his hands. The same cold shiver he felt when he'd been possessed ran down his spine at the thought. 

Reminiscing over the event, Sukuna's fingertips recalled sweetly how soft her hair had been under his touch. The strands were warm and smooth, and flowed like silk through his hands, reflecting the light like a precious gemsto- what the fuck was he saying!? This was the perfect example of one of the many issues Sukuna had been having as of late in regards to y/n. They'd spent their daylight together, and after parting so he can participate in his evening bathing ritual, he'd think back to the time they'd spent and at the thought of their proximity to one another he'd be overcome with a sickly feeling in his stomach and the sound of 'weird bathtub sex' with one of his many concubines did not appeal to him half as much. It was so foreign it was borderline painful - as if if stomach were being twisted using infinity - however his RCT would be no use to repress the discomfort. The more the man considered his symptoms, the more his predicament aligned with that of his possession by that filthy oni.  

But alas there was still something not quite right. In the depths of his self Sukuna knew that what he was experiencing was not a demonic possession. It was a feeling. And one he'd witnessed wreak havoc so many times before. 

The greatest curse of all. Love. 

The man sighed and swapped which hand he was resting his head upon, readjusting his position on the throne. 

Sukuna had a ..diminished.. number of friends and love was not one of them. He'd seen what love could do. It sent clans to war and 'star-crossed lovers' to death. It was the sharpest sword in any armoury and possessed humans with more power and control than any oni. Love was the weak point in a suit of armour, or the fault in a castle wall. Love was a losing game. A gamble you'd never win. Love was a malevolent curse and all those who met it face-to-face and were spat back out of it's greedy belly vowed themselves to never step foot near it again. 

But there was more to love than this. Sukuna had seen what that malicious force could do and though he never chased it, it appeared as part of human nature to ponder it unrelentingly. To watch commanders lead armies to protect their families back home, and to witness young lovers with that look in their eyes. Sukuna had caught a waft of love's sweet aroma many times before- but now he smelt it on y/n. All of a sudden he was suffocating in its chokehold and it seemed that no amount of fighting, thrashing or pushing would make it go away. Sukuna had tried trekking to far-fetched villages and claiming the lives of innocents as he used to so dearly enjoy, but alas, it was no use. Distance simply made the heart grow fonder and through all the bloodshed Sukuna's mind was clouded with thoughts of y/n. It was killing him, peeling his fingers on-by-one off of his self-control. This couldn't be love, surely? He'd seen the look of a lover's eyes, but they'd never been pointed at him. Sukuna had never known what it was to be loved, or to even love for that matter. He didn't know what it was to purely care for someone, or to be cared for gently. The weight of his heart was crushing him and the pressure in his veins made him feel as if he were about to explode. This just couldn't be love, could it?

What even is love?

The man stood up from his throne, all the joints in his back snapping and popping as he stretched with a grumble and sigh. That was a philosophical debate for another day.