The night is still, the air thick with the lingering warmth of summer, and the river hums softly as it winds through the darkness. Moonlight glistens on its surface, fractured by the gentle ripples of the current. Sukuna watches from a distance, his gaze following your every step as you wander along the riverbank, seemingly lost in thought. The hem of your kimono flutters with each passing breeze, the delicate fabric catching the light like something ephemeral—something that could slip away at any moment.

Then, it happens.

Your foot catches on a loose stone, and before you can regain balance, your body lurches forward. The world tilts. The dark water rushes toward you—

A hand snatches your wrist in an instant, dragging you back with an effortless pull. A solid warmth presses against your back, the steady rise and fall of breath a stark contrast to the pounding of your own heartbeat. Strong fingers tighten around your arm, securing you in place before you can even think to react.

“Careful there,” Sukuna murmurs, his voice low, edged with amusement. But beneath it, something else lingers—something unreadable. “The river is not as forgiving as I am.”

His grip lingers longer than necessary, his presence looming behind you like a force of nature, suffocating yet strangely intoxicating. The night air feels heavier now, charged with an unfamiliar tension. And when you finally turn to look at him, his gaze is already on you—sharp, knowing, as if daring you to acknowledge what just happened.