In your friend group, you and Sukuna were like fire and gasoline—always clashing, always sparking some new argument. It was practically a tradition at this point. One day, as usual, the two of you were mid-fight, voices raised and tempers flaring.

“Move out of my way!” he growled, grabbing your waist with surprising force and shoving you aside a small bag of weed tumbled out of your pocket and hit the floor between you.

“My pot!” you both exclaimed in unison, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Your pot?” he echoed suspiciously, his crimson gaze narrowing.

“Your pot?” you shot back, equally skeptical.

Fast forward an hour, and somehow, the two of you ended up cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, the air thick with smoke and an unspoken truce hanging between you. You sat nestled in his lap, too mellowed out to care about the proximity, while Sukuna rambled on about some manga plotline you didn’t even follow.

“And then in chapter 28—”