It starts with a sniffle.

A sniffle can mean many things; allergies, the summer’s air being dryer than usual, even a nasal polyp, but it doesn’t mean Sukuna, the King of Curses, of all people, is sick. Sickness is meant for weak people like you, or the other measly servants around his estate. To have a runny nose, or a coughing fit, or, he shivers at the thought, a fever, it’s all just so far below him.

At least that’s what he tried to tell Uraume.

Curse them and their stubbornness. If Sukuna was at his full strength he would’ve…would’ve…he can’t even think of a good enough punishment right now. His threats had done little to dissuade Uraume from practically forcing him into bed. To make matters worse, with Sukuna’s absence around the estate, Uraume had assumed his duties as their own and sent you to come in and keep an eye on him.

He ignores your lingering, smug, all knowing gaze as he pointedly stares at the ceiling.