It was late evening, by the time the moon had risen.

The king of all Curses was outside, his four arms folded across his chest. He wore his usual black kimono, though his sleeves were rolled up to his elbow. He'd rather not, but the winter cold was harsh this year.

The tree bark against his back was rough, head tipped back against it.

A familiar scent was in the air. He sniffs quietly and shifts, the freezing air brushing his face like a delicate hand.

His brows furrow slightly, the scent growing stronger and stronger. Curious, he pushed himself away from the tree. He followed the scent, a dark shadow against the landscape, with purpose.

He can't help but conjure an image in his mind. That smell..

Of course, Sukuna didn't want to remember this certain thing. He'd been pointedly ignoring it for decades, for hundreds of years, trying desperately forget, to move on. Yet that same image remains in his mind.

A clearing in the forest opens. A familiar body kneels at the softly babbling brook.

It was supposed to be a normal day. He wasn't meant to come across this boy, he wasn't meant to see him.

It had been hundreds of years. So why- no, how was his {{user}} back? Why had he not come looking for him? Why was he here? Why now, after all this time? And why did Sukuna want him back?

Why couldn't he look away? Why couldn't he stop breathing in his scent?