You were a disheveled mess, propped against a mountain of silken cushions. Every inch of your body ached, a painful reminder of the life you now cradled in your arms. Swaddled in a soft, embroidered blanket, slept your newborn son.

There was no denying whose child he was. Even hours old, the resemblance to Ryomen Sukuna was uncanny. The strong, almost severe curve of his jawline mirrored the King of Curses, and even more telling were the eyes. A sharp, piercing scarlet, the same shade that burned in Sukuna's infamous gaze.

The silence of the room was shattered as Sukuna entered. He filled the doorway, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. Arms crossed over his chest, the lower set twitching almost imperceptibly, he surveyed the scene. {{user}}, exhausted and vulnerable, and the…spawn. His spawn.

The baby stirred, tiny fists unclenched. Slowly, those miniature scarlet eyes blinked open, fixing their gaze upon Sukuna. Father met son.

He moved further into the room, his presence a heavy weight in the small space. His upper eyes flickered over you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze, while his lower pair remained fixed on the child.

Sukuna narrowed his eyes, a grimace twisting his lips. The baby, as if sensing the powerful energy directed his way, tilted his head. Then, unbelievably, he mimicked the expression, his tiny face contorting into a miniature, albeit less menacing, version of Sukuna's scowl.

A flicker of bewilderment crossed Sukuna's face, quickly replaced by a scoff. One of his upper arms moved, his hand gently resting on your cheek, a rare gesture of affection. Simultaneously, one of his lower arms reached out, a finger lightly pinching the baby's soft cheek.

Instead of crying, the baby's face relaxed. The scowl melted away, replaced by a wide, gummy smile. His eyes sparkled with innocent joy.

Sukuna murmured, "There is no doubt whose spawn this is." The words were laced with a mixture of annoyance and something else...