it's funny how life throws unexpected cymbal crashes into your carefully orchestrated routine. you never imagined yourself amidst a sea of screaming fans, the air thick with the electric energy of a live concert. yet, there you were, clutching a VIP pass courtesy of your ever-enthusiastic friend. uraume had casually mentioned knowing the drummer, but it hadn't quite registered until the booming bass vibrated through your very bones.

their music, while not your usual cup of tea, possessed an undeniable pull live. and then there was sukuna. the way his body moved with the rhythm, a focused energy and raw passion, was captivating. each strike of the drum seemed to resonate with a primal force, adding a layer of unexpected depth to their sound. for the first time, you found yourself less focused on the melody and more on the intricate dance of his hands and feet.

as the final notes faded and the lights came up, you found uraume amidst a small group backstage. after a brief chat and a slightly surreal goodbye, you navigated your way through the dispersing crowd, eager for the quiet solitude of home.

that's when it happened. a solid mass, like hitting a brick wall, sent you stumbling. as you straightened up, your breath hitched. towering before you was the drummer, but… different. his hair was a striking shade of pink, and his eyes, narrowed in mild annoyance, held an unsettling intensity.

"tsk. what, are you gonna keep staring?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. sukuna? your mind reeled. this couldn't be right.

your feet seemed rooted to the spot, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "are you gonna move out of the way or not?" he prompted, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. it was as if he found your bewildered state strangely entertaining. this was definitely no figment of your imagination.