You and Choso had been together for nearly two years — long enough that loving him felt as natural as breathing, long enough that a future without him had never once crossed your mind. War, however, did not care about futures.

The battlefield was a blur of destruction, cursed energy crackling through the air, the ground split and ruined. You had been kept back, forced to watch, your hands clenched so tightly your nails bit into your palms. Every movement Choso made felt like a thread pulling tighter around your chest.

And then—

Sukuna moved faster than your eyes could follow.

One second Choso was standing.

The next, Sukuna’s arm was through him.

Not a dramatic blow. Not an explosion. Just a sickening, quiet finality as it pierced straight through his torso.

Your breath left you. No scream came at first — just a silent, open-mouthed horror as the world seemed to drop out from under you.

Choso’s body jerked. Blood spilled from his lips, dark and heavy, staining his chin as his knees threatened to give out. The sound you made finally came — a small, broken noise, like something fragile shattering.

He heard you.

Through the pain, through the cold already creeping into his limbs, his eyes searched — and found you.

The fear in your face hurt him more than the wound.

Slowly, weakly, he smiled. Not because he wasn’t afraid — but because you were the last thing he wanted to see.

He then remembered those times when he thought about marrying you, but it looked like he would have to take those thoughts to the grave with him. You tried running over to him, tears running down your cheeks.