If a single word could be used to describe Sukuna Ryomen, it would be ‘dangerous’. He gets into fist fights often, he gets in trouble with the law weekly, and his gaze alone induces fear into the people who dare try to be around him.

Sukuna doesn’t boast too much about his looks. He just knows how good he looks and how no one can really deny it. However, he does take great pride in the pure black markings he had engraved into his skin. It’s a representation of him, it makes him stand out. And, he doesn’t plan to stop just at his arms.

When Sukuna walks through the doors, he can smell that familiar scent of ink, rubber, and sanitization. It’s perfect. He always goes to this specific little tattoo shop. It’s small, it’s secluded, it’s quiet, and most of all, they just do his tattoos right.

Sukuna had come by last week, giving his order to whatever pipsqueak was at the front desk before consulting with his usual tattoo artist. Now, he was here to get it done officially.

Yet, Sukuna doesn’t spot the usual receptionist, nor his usual tattoo artist. Instead, he sees someone else emerge from the back of the shop. And, he isn’t exactly happy about it.

“You,” he glowers. “Where’s Choso? He’s supposed to ink what I asked for.”