▬▬▬▬   THE FIRST NIGHT in Sukuna's domain was silent.

Not the silence of peace, nor the calm of rest, but the kind of silence that came before something devoured you whole.

The moon hung high above the palace walls, its pale light spilling through the open shōji doors, illuminating the vast chamber where you had been placed. Despite its grandeur, the space was suffocating. The heavy scent of incense and blood still lingered from the previous raids, and the hushed whispers of the servants who passed by your door carried the same unspoken question—

"How long will she last?"

You had been given a room in the inner quarters, deep within the heart of Sukuna's estate, yet you knew better than to believe you were safe. The bedding was finer than silk, the folding screens painted with intricate gold-leaf designs of dragons and peonies, and yet...

It was still a cage.

Not as a concubine. Not yet. You were not one of the others who had been claimed and discarded. You were not made to kneel at his feet like a whimpering thing, nor did he immediately take you to bed like a war trophy.

No, Sukuna had left you as something far worse.

A guest.

A guest of Ryomen Sukuna was a woman with an uncertain fate—a curiosity, a puzzle that had yet to be solved.

You were neither owned nor free. You existed in the fragile space between amusement and annihilation, and you knew that at any moment, that balance could tip either way.

Still, you had not spoken a word since you arrived.

You had only been watching.

By morning, you were summoned to the outer gardens.

The concubines had gathered under the shade of the wisteria trees, their silk robes pooling around them like spilled ink. Some whispered behind their painted fans, eyes darting toward you with thinly veiled curiosity and hostility. Others sat in still silence, their expressions trained into perfect, empty masks—women who had long since learned that speaking out of turn could end in disaster.

They did not approach you.

You were an unknown variable. A woman dragged in the night before, dressed in silks too fine for a mere captive, yet untouched by Sukuna's claim. A woman who had not begged, had not screamed, had not knelt.

That alone was enough to make them wary.

A sharp voice cut through the murmuring.

"You should not sit so high, newcomer."

A woman draped in crimson and gold stood at the center of the gathering, her painted lips curved into something between amusement and condescension. Unlike the others, who spoke in hushed tones, she looked at you directly, unafraid of confrontation.

"You have not yet been chosen," she continued smoothly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You are no different from the rest of us."

Her name was Lady Jisai—one of Sukuna's favored concubines, a woman who had survived long enough to wield a delicate kind of power in this twisted place.

You turned your gaze toward her, unhurried, golden eyes calm as you took a slow sip from the cup of tea in your hands.

"I was not aware I had taken a seat above anyone."

Jisai's lips twitched. "And yet, you sit as though you are untouchable."

The others watched in silence, eager for your reaction. Would you yield? Apologize? Offer some form of submission to avoid stepping too far into dangerous waters?

But you simply set your tea aside, hands folding delicately in your lap.

"It is not my fault if the air around me makes you feel small."

A few of the younger concubines gasped, but you held Jisai's gaze without wavering.

For a moment, her eyes narrowed—sharp, assessing. And then, to your mild surprise, she let out a soft, dry laugh.

"How interesting," she murmured, before turning away.

The conversation shifted, the tension fading slightly, but you knew you had made an impression.

Not all of them would like you for it.

But that was not your concern.

"You will not last long."

You did not turn at the voice, recognizing it before they even stepped closer.

Uraume.

Sukuna's most loyal servant, the blade hidden within his shadow, a presence that rarely left his side. They had appeared beside you, standing just outside the threshold of the pavilion, their expression unreadable.

"You think so?" you murmured, lifting your cup once more, watching the tea swirl inside like ink spreading across water.

"You are not the first woman to amuse him," Uraume continued, voice smooth, but edged with something sharper. "You will not be the last."

You exhaled through your nose. "And yet, here I am."

Uraume's pale gaze flickered toward you, unreadable. "Not for long."

Their tone was not cruel. It was a warning.

Perhaps it was meant to intimidate you. Perhaps they expected fear—a show of weakness. But instead, you only smiled softly into your tea, letting the silence stretch before speaking again.

"Would you like to place a wager on that?"

Uraume did not answer, but you did not miss the way their gaze lingered on you before they disappeared.

The second night, he came to you.

The shōji doors slid open without warning, the candlelight flickering from the disturbance of air as his presence swallowed the room whole.

You did not have to turn to know it was him.

Ryomen Sukuna moved like a predator who knew he owned everything in his sight, his footsteps slow, deliberate. When you finally looked up, his four red eyes gleamed in the dim light, watching you with an expression of cruel amusement.

"You do not bow," he remarked, voice low, edged with something dark.

You folded your hands in your lap. "You did not ask me to."

Silence.

Then—he laughed.

A deep, pleased sound, though whether it was because of your defiance or your foolishness, you could not yet tell.

"You are not afraid," he mused, stepping closer. He was too large, too sharp, too monstrous, the scent of blood still clinging to his skin. "Why?"

You tilted your head slightly, gaze unwavering.

"Would it change my fate?"

His grin widened. "No."

"Then what is the point?"

Another pause. Another flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

Slowly, Sukuna reached forward, his clawed fingers grazing the edge of your jaw, tilting your face up toward his.

"You are either the bravest woman I have ever met," he murmured, voice dark with amusement, "or the most foolish."

You smiled softly, calm and untouchable, as you finally met his gaze fully.

"Perhaps I am both."

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