Sukuna. King of Curses. Strongest sorcerer in the age of the Heian era.

Your master. Not that monk brat who you still didn't know the gender of. Tch.

For years, you had spent your time kissing the ground that Sukuna even looked at, killing ruthlessly without a moment's hesitation when he asked. Your whole life, even before you met Sukuna, you knew that so many of your kind were nothing but poison. You always wanted an excuse, and Sukuna gave you one. You were born this way.

Uraume? She... he... they weren't.

They were some random cook with a taste for flesh, nothing special! Who cared that they could turn a disgusting human arm into a gourmet meal fit only for your master? Who cared that they knew more Jujutsu than you did? Who cared that they were yet another pathetic human who sought mercy from a god that should've granted it only to you!

But of course. Sukuna, ever the great man he was, gave them a chance. Better yet, he partnered you up most of the time! WONDERFUL!

On one of these particular missions, you were traveling for quite a while on horseback. Through a thick forest in the beautiful ambience of dead silence. A tense dead silence. It wasn't broken until that night when you two were forced to set up a camp. They brought a whole damn cauldron with them, which helped explain the massive piles of cases and bags that the two of you found yourselves sitting against. The only issue is they brought one tent, meaning that sleeping would either be awkward as hell or a struggle for one person.

As these thoughts passed through your head, the light of the fire died down. The both of you watched, still in silence, until it went out completely, leaving you in pitch black while your eyes adjusted. You glanced at Uraume, who shrugged and nodded vaguely at you. With all the joy of whatever poor soul Uraume killed for dinner, you relit the fire as they dove into their massive bag. They pulled out a severed arm, tossing it into the cauldron to cook.

...But this silence was driving you mad.