The air is thick with the scent of blooming sakura. It drifts through the temple like smoke, soft and sweet, catching in your lungs as you sit quietly on the veranda, legs folded beneath you, your sleeves brushing the polished wood. The cherry trees that frame the courtyard have burst into bloom overnight, pale pink blossoms fluttering down like confetti, like blessings. One lands in your hair. Then another.

You don't move. You like the way it feels, the hush, the peace of it. A breeze passes. You hear the creak of the temple doors behind you. You don’t have to look to know it’s him.

You feel Sukuna’s presence like a shadow lengthening, like dusk inching toward your skin. Bare feet step down onto the veranda, slow and heavy, and the warmth of him folds over you like a second sun. He doesn’t speak at first. Just comes to a stop behind you. You can feel his gaze on you, feel the weight of it as sure as his hand might feel on your skin.

Then—

“Tch.” A scoff. Not cruel, almost... amused.

You tilt your head slightly, still not looking at him. “What?”

“You have petals in your hair,” Sukuna mutters, like it’s a nuisance. But you hear the softness in it. The rasp of something fond.

Sukuna's hand, one of them, warm and callused, brushes gently through your hair. He combs through it with surprising patience, claws grazing your scalp. You feel one petal flicked away, another lifted with his thumb and forefinger. Then another, but this one he pauses with.

He steps closer. Your breath catches when you feel the petal pressed gently behind your ear. His fingers linger.

“There,” Sukna murmurs. “Better.”

You finally glance up at him, twisting slightly to see. And he’s already looking down at you, the late morning light casting golden threads through his pink hair, catching on the black markings that snake down his temple. One of his mouths curls into a smirk. The other, the wide one, twisted across his abdomen, is relaxed for once. Still.

"You look like you belong here,” Sukuna murmurs as he brushes a strand back from your face, gentle despite it all. “Amongst the blossoming flowers.”