𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 | sukuita

3; it's all so incredibly loud

It’s been a rough few days.

Yuuji doesn’t know how to say he’s been in a foul mood. Thankfully, he doesn’t really have to. Almost everyone else can see the wraith skulking around his shoulders and dragging down his heart. It’s heavy and violent and has sucked Yuuji into a void that he doesn’t know how to exist outside of right now.

It’s draining.

Not even Sukuna’s renewed comments are enough to jostle him. They don’t give him the warmth or heat that comes in his dreams. It all feels like static and Yuuji is tired.

So the first chance he gets, Yuuji crawls into his bed around noon and forces himself to sleep. A little part of him begs for quiet blackness. He doesn’t know if his short temper will chase him into that realm and Yuuji doesn’t need to pick any fights with Sukuna.

Whatever they’re doing now is rough and tentative and Yuuji doesn’t want to ruin it because he can’t shut up and Sukuna seems like the type to hold a grudge.

Of course, against his wishes. Yuuji opens his eyes to a vivid sky of greens and blues and the ache of cold stone against his back. With a bit of effort he rolls onto his side, finding himself laid out in the middle of a long simple stone bridge.

On either side there’s an expanse of water that bubbles playfully. It chirps and leaps like children in puddles and Yuuji watches wide eyed as sea life sculptures leap out of the foam.

When he turns his attention directly ahead he finds a towering structure stretching up to the clouds. It’s beautiful, an ancient majesty of ornate arches and spiralling towers and gardens that bloom over the rooftops.

It’s like something out of a fairytale, one in particular standing out in Yuuji’s mind.

A book series his grandpa had read him as a kid when he was too restless to fall asleep.

Of a little girl who stumbled into the world of magic through a mistake that cost her mother her life. Of a teacher made of kind, wide smiles and enough secrets to fill a graveyard. Yuuji vividly remembers being sad that the magic involved drawing intricate glyphs.

His own penmanship was always too shaky and uneven and no matter how many symbols he had doodled they all came out poorly. 

With one swift push, Yuuji gathers himself onto his feet and glances over his shoulder, calling out, “Sukuna?” But the curse doesn’t respond, he’s nowhere to be seen and it dawns on Yuuji that somehow he’s completely alone.

Perhaps for the first time since the moments between his grandpa passing and the nurses coming to take him away. Yuuji meets the realization with a spike of fear and relief. 

Deep, deep down there was something both exhausting and comforting about being around others and having them rely on him. Yuuji could never truly begrudge his grandpa’s dying wish, because he was a helpful person by nature.

But even the strongest rocks can crack and crumble and if Yuuji can do that in his dreams away from worried eyes then maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.