Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

036. Light Amongst Shadows

Losing something you never had is disconcerting, like trying to hold sand between your fingers and watching it inevitably fall into the void. It was an ephemeral, almost unreal warmth that the wind blew away before you could protect it, leaving you with a void you didn't know existed... until it hurt.

You weren't even a day pregnant, and it had already been taken from you. Or at least, that's what you thought. After the painful training, you spent the day in bed, as motionless as a drifting boat. Your body rested, but your mind mourned. While Sukuna went about his business, you hid in the warmth of the blankets and the soft embrace of the pillows. Choso, Kechizu, and Esou were by your side, dozing next to you for hours or listening silently as you quietly told them stories, seeking comfort in the simplest routine.

Sukuna, despite his harsh nature, had ordered the servants to bring your food to your bed so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. You stared at the ceiling while your hand gently caressed your stomach for long hours after breakfast. You finished a bowl of strawberries without feeling the urge to throw it up.

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After an exhausting month of meticulous planning, the wedding day had finally arrived. Sukuna watched silently from his bedroom window as the parade ground, normally reserved for combat, slowly transformed into a setting worthy of a royal union. Servants bustled about, decorating every corner with flowers and elegant fabrics with ceremonial precision. Soon the curses of the New Sukuna kingdom would arrive, summoned to witness the ceremony.

Behind him, Uraume worked with reverential care, expertly smoothing the folds of the most luxurious black kimono he owned: a garment woven from shadow silk and embroidered with crimson threads reminiscent of ancient battles and pacts sealed in blood. Uraume didn't say a word. The atmosphere held a silent anticipation for the day that lay ahead. Sukuna didn't smile, but something else shone in his eyes. Something that neither war nor power had been able to awaken.

"Are you sure?" Uraume broke the silence as they adjusted the robe over his shoulders with the help of a stool.

"What are you talking about?" Sukuna looked back at Uraume through the reflection of the mirror.

"I will always be at your command and service, my king, but are you sure about marrying the lady? Ever since she killed her own sister, something feels off," they explained.

The relationship between Sukuna and Uraume was unique, forged not from common affection, but from a mixture of loyalty, power, and necessity. Sukuna could adopt children, father heirs, or surround himself with followers at will, but Uraume was different. They were the first. The original disciple. The one to whom he taught not only his most lethal techniques, but also how he liked to season his human flesh.

Him had molded them from a young age with a clear purpose: to be his shadow, his silent confidant, his eternal companion. Not an equal, but an extension of his will. Sukuna crafted them like a sharp tool: he knew how far they could bend without breaking, when he would remain silent, and when he would act.

Uraume, on the other hand, thought they knew the king... but it was an illusion. They knew he hated men's clothing because it didn't fit his figure the way he liked. They knew his appetite for human flesh went beyond hunger. And they understood, too, that Sukuna never did anything that didn't benefit him.

But they didn't see him the way you did.

They didn't have your gaze to pierce through that cruel and ancient shell, that mask of indifference that hid who knows how many other secrets. Uraume, loyal as they were, didn't fully understand their own feelings, much less those of someone as confusing as the king.