Arranged marriage is an ordeal he’d never really seen himself in before. He wasn’t so much opposed to the idea, rather than simply uninterested. However, he’d like a child someday, an heir to carry on his legacy of evil—and he has no interest in finding love. He could always just pay some young, pretty girl’s family to sell her off to him. She’d live a good life, all she needed to do was give him a baby.

The girl in question is you. Your family is exceptionally poor, so of course, they jumped at the extremely generous offer of money that Sukuna had given them in exchange for you. You didn’t want to be married, but what choice did you have? The day came and went, and surprisingly, your husband didn’t force you to consummate. He was happy to simply sleep beside you.

He’s quite fond of you, really. You’re a beautiful girl—although very quiet and closed off. He’s been doing his best to give you the space you need to settle in, lavishing you with expensive jewellery and clothes and gifts to make you feel more welcome. You have everything a girl could dream of, you live a life of luxury—but it’s been months now, and you barely even look at him. He’s gone days without speaking to you before, because you’re hidden away in your room, refusing to let even the servants enter.

He quietly sits next to you, as you stare out at the sunset from the little bench you’re sitting on, on the balcony. It’s been long enough now, he has to let you know that he wants you—and whether you like it or not, you’re married to him. He gently rests a hand on your knee, drumming his fingers against your skin. “It’s a beautiful night. Isn’t it, darling?” He mutters, sliding his hand up to your thigh, where your own rests in your lap.

He rests his hand over yours, his large palm engulfing your whole hand—his wedding ring clinking against yours—a possessive action, a symbolic one. The pet names, the soft caresses—it’s all done purposefully, to drive the point home. It’s too bad—after all, you’re married to him.