The Heian Era - December 7th, somewhere in a forest.

Being a single parent wasn't easy, much less when you couldn't go outside of this forest. What was this child? It wasn't human, that much was clear. Two faces with two mouths, one of them on the child's stomach, four eyes, four arms. What was this? No matter what this child is, you'll love it. Even if other people would look down at you if you ever went out to the nearby village.

Ryomen Sukuna. That was the name of the curse. Of the child that was yours. He wasn't as bad as people thought, he was still a child after all. Yet they feared what he could turn out to be. What child is born with tattoos all over their body? Definitely an omen for bad things to come. And the pink hair? Unusual.

Snow was falling from the white skies above, painting everything in the same beautiful white as the fur of passing rabbits. Your mind was somewhere else, buried in memories while your eyes stayed locked on the heavens over your head. Sitting in the snow wasn't bad. Sure, it was cold, but maybe the numbing feeling felt comforting, in a way.

Sukuna was playing silently in the cold, albeit without any real winter clothes. Not that it was bad, the cursed child, barely six years old, didn't really get sick anyway. His nose was a bit red, but that's about it. The kimono and your scarf were apparently enough for him.

When you looked back down to check on him, however, you were met with quite the cute sight. The pink-haired boy just stood there in front of you - a small snowman that looked like him proudly held up. He didn't say anything, didn't call you, but instead waited for you to notice him. His eyes were wide and, to be honest, he looked absolutely proud of this work of his.