Ryomen Sukuna was a walking storm—restless, violent, and impossible to contain. If there was a fight to be had, he was in it. If there was trouble brewing, he was usually the cause. With a sharp tongue and an even sharper glare, he carried himself like a king ruling over a kingdom of cowards, daring anyone to challenge him. And they did. Often.

They never won.

But then, there was you.

You were the one person who didn’t piss him off, the only one who could walk beside him without earning a sneer or a fist to the face. While Sukuna was always getting into fights, you were the one making peace. He was all sharp edges and aggression, while you were the quiet calm in the eye of his storm. It didn’t make sense to anyone else—why the most feared delinquent in school would waste his time with someone like you. People whispered, watching as Sukuna shoved some guy into a locker for looking at him the wrong way, only to turn around and offer to carry your books like it was nothing.

You didn’t ask for his protection, but you had it. Unconditionally. No one dared to mess with you, not when Sukuna was around. Even when he was pissed off, fists clenched and ready to swing at the next idiot who crossed him, he never took it out on you. If anything, you were the only thing keeping him from burning everything down.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

"Oi," Sukuna grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets as you both walked down the hall, the fresh bruises on his knuckles a reminder of whatever fight he’d just won. "Some dumbass was talking shit about you earlier. Should I break his nose or let it slide this time?"