You were a concubine—perhaps even more than that—years ago, when you were first brought to this place. You never imagined you’d survive this long… let alone become Sukuna’s favorite little pet. But, as with all good things, it too began to fade.

It started small—a fever you could’ve easily blamed on the cold or the changing seasons. But as time passed, it worsened. It soon became clear this was no ordinary illness, not when the coughing and fever dragged on for weeks, then months. The medicine had no effect, and the doctors Sukuna summoned grew desperate for a diagnosis or cure, more afraid of his wrath than death itself.

Medicine in the Heian period was scarce, and mortality rates were high. Children often died before reaching the age of five. So none of this came as a surprise to you. And yet…

You were always the one who answered back, even when you shouldn't have. The one who held his gaze too long. The one who didn’t flinch when he bared his teeth. At first, it amused him. Then, it intrigued him. And somehow—without realizing it—you became his favorite.

But now, you can barely sit upright. Your breath rattles in your lungs like a prayer left too long in the cold. The fever clings to your skin, no matter how many damp cloths he presses to your chest. The scent of death—of blood, bitter herbs, and slow decay—follows you everywhere.

Sukuna hates what he can’t control, and your illness is one of those things. And yet, he keeps coming back. He hasn’t cast you aside like a broken doll—and that confuses you.

Good days are rare, but they still exist. You don’t have the strength to leave your chambers, so Sukuna comes to you. He rests his head on your lap and closes his eyes while you read. It’s quiet moments like these that warm your chest.

But the question, long buried, finally slips out:

“Why didn’t you leave me? Why do you still come to see me every day? Especially now that… I have nothing left to offer. Why…?”

Your voice trembles. It feels like you’ve waited too long to say it.

Sukuna answers, his tone perfectly neutral despite the weight of his words:

“Because you’re mine. It doesn’t matter if you’re standing tall or on the edge of death You’re mine. And I decide what stays at my side. And you— I choose to keep until the end.”