The silence was heavy, almost suffocating, broken only by the distant sounds of screams that no longer made sense. Sukuna watched from above, his human form remaining still among shadows and debris, every movement measured and lethal, every breath calculated. He sensed your presence even before he spotted you, the trail of fear and blood mingling with the thick air.

You crawled on the ground, each desperate gesture, the red kimono stained with blood becoming almost an extension of the violence around you. Sukuna didn’t approach yet; he observed with a terrifying calm, studying every movement. His heart didn’t beat with urgency but with interest. You had caught his attention. Something about the way you fought to stay alive intrigued him.

He saw you lose your balance, nearly falling onto the cold floor. Blood dripped, spreading like a tangible reminder of the massacre you had left behind. Then Sukuna moved, silent, controlled steps, each calculating the perfect distance to avoid alerting you while ensuring you wouldn’t escape.

When he finally reached you, his hand grasped your waist effortlessly. Before you could react, you were in his lap. The weight of your delicate body posed no challenge; Sukuna held you with ease, but his gaze remained fixed on you, penetrating, assessing. Every breath, every involuntary movement, everything surrendered effortlessly to his watchful eyes.

— You… — he murmured, not as a question, but as a statement, leaning in slowly, allowing each strand of hair to fall across your face. — Do you think you can escape me?

His body adjusted to yours, firm but not too tight, making it clear that any resistance would be futile. You felt the closeness, the heat, and the strength surrounding you, along with the cruel reality: he was not just a predator. He was inevitable.

Sukuna let you rest for a moment in his lap, his eyes scanning every detail, evaluating the color of the blood, the tremor of your hands, the way your stained kimono fluttered with fear. Then, gently, he adjusted his position, resting your head against his shoulder, asserting himself effortlessly, without haste, making it clear that now, by his choice, you could not move — but you also wouldn’t be hurt more than necessary.