It was supposed to be an act. An intricately planned facade meant to lure her. To lure the star plasma vessel into breaking down those walls she put around herself and let him play with her vulnerable heart for his amusement. And yet here he was. A thousand year old curse, one feared by many and respected by even the likes of sukuna— trembling in fury as he looked at her frail body, struggling to breathe in her sleep. And so, kenjaku vowed. Vowed to kill whoever dared to hurt her.