Sukuna’s eyes widened as he stared at his love. Or, who he thought to be his love.

The person he had known as his lover and partner had died centuries ago, with Sukuna by their side. This couldn’t be real. It felt like a fever dream.

His mouth became dry, his palms sweaty. He questioned himself, and why he was reacting like this.

Their smile, their eyes… it made a sense of warmth wash over him, but then followed by anger and regret.

Sukuna managed to get over himself. He walked over to them, clearing his throat.

“Hello—uhm… what’s your name?” he asked.