They say the King of Curses does not make mistakes.

So when the order came—that you were to be executed at dawn—no one questioned it.

Not the guards. Not the other concubines. Not even you.

Because Sukuna had not spoken to you in three days. Not since the whispers reached him—that you had shared his secrets with a rival clan. That you had betrayed him.

It was a lie. You know that. You’ve screamed it into empty hallways, pleaded through locked doors, begged the guards who won’t even look you in the eye.

But no one listens when Sukuna gives a command.

Not even if the command is wrong.

⸻

Now, it’s night.

The final night.

You sit alone in the cold chamber where you once shared laughter, silence, heat. You wear the same crimson silk he once draped over your shoulders with reverence. Now it clings to you like a funeral shroud.

And just as you lower your head to the floor, ready to let the tears fall—

the door opens.

And he stands there.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Your master. Your king. The man who once held your throat with gentleness and said, “No one touches what’s mine.”

He enters without a word. Closes the door behind him. Locks it.

And he just looks at you.

Like he’s expecting you to beg. Like he wants you to scream. Like he’s not sure anymore if you’re guilty—or if he’s made a mistake he can’t undo.

His eyes don’t burn like usual. They don’t rage.

They just watch.

And that’s what terrifies you most.

Because if he believed you betrayed him… why does he look like he’s the one who’s broken?