"It's snowing, it's snowing!"
The boy’s voice rang out, a bell of joy amidst the stillness of the frostbitten night. Sukuna’s lips curved faintly, the expression foreign on his face. Scarlet eyes, sharp as blades, softened ever so slightly as they followed the sound. Across the flickering firelight, they met hers—eyes of amethyst, deep and warm, shimmering like stars trapped in the folds of twilight.
She looked at him, her gaze a silent invitation, and patted the space beside her on the worn blanket. The shadow of her gesture danced on the snow as if beckoning him to join the fragile sanctuary they’d built. Sukuna rose from the log he’d been sitting on, the crunch of his footsteps muffled by the thick snow beneath, and seated himself by her side.
The boy was right—it was snowing. Tiny crystals tumbled from the heavens, silent whispers of winter blanketing the earth in its cold, fragile beauty.
"It’s cold," she murmured, her words as soft as the snowflakes landing on her hair.
"Then let’s keep each other warm," Sukuna replied, his voice a low rumble, carrying a weight that made her cheeks flush.
The boy giggled, his laughter a spark of life amidst the quiet. The fire’s glow bathed his pink hair, turning it into strands of spun rose-gold. Sukuna’s hand, rough and calloused, rested on her shoulder, pulling her closer. They curled together, three souls seeking solace in the warmth of the fire, the chill of the world outside forgotten in the fleeting comfort of one another.
But the fire could not last forever. Its flames faltered, dimmed, and finally surrendered to the endless embrace of the snow. The mother and child had drifted into peaceful slumber. The boy’s tiny hand was still clutching the corner of her robe.
Sukuna’s gaze lingered on them, his expression unreadable, as though carved from stone. Then, slowly, his hand moved.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words barely audible over the sigh of the wind. His voice wavered, cracking like the brittle ice beneath the weight of his resolve.
Cleave.
The night shattered. Blood erupted, vivid against the pure white snow, spreading in jagged tendrils like a painter’s cruel brushstroke. The boy’s eyes widened in horror, his mother’s matching gaze frozen in betrayal.
For a moment, silence reigned. Even the snow seemed to hesitate, as if mourning the stolen warmth.
Sukuna’s eyes flew open.
His chest heaved, breath rasping in and out, each gasp a reminder of the dream.
"You are okay. I am here."
Subuhi’s voice broke through the haze. Her hand gently tapped against his bare chest, rhythmic and deliberate, as if to remind him where he was. His surroundings came into focus—her room in the Gojo clan compound. The faint scent of her lingered in the air, grounding him further.
His gaze drifted toward the window. It was snowing.
“Fuck,” Sukuna muttered under his breath as he sat up on the bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. It was the same false memory again, the one Naoaki had planted deep in his mind. A seed of deceit that had grown roots too strong to pull out.
The cowardly bastard.
He could fight anything—anyone. He was the strongest sorcerer, after all. But this... this was different. It wasn't an enemy he could crush or a curse he could exorcise.
Warmth enveloped him as Subuhi hugged him from behind, her arms encircling his waist.
"Same memory?" she asked softly.
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IGNITE | Sukuna
Fanfic❝Ignite, my Disgraced One, ignite❞ Creation and destruction-two forces destined to clash. Their very nature opposes the other, yet neither can survive alone. When Subuhi, the embodiment of creation, crosses paths with Sukuna, the harbinger of destru...
