The atmosphere inside the house was thick — not with cursed energy, but something far more terrifying: {{user}}’s anger.

The living room, usually filled with a low hum of peace (or chaos, depending on the day), had fallen into an oppressive silence. Sitting cross-legged on the floor were two figures, both radiating a similar smugness despite their situation.

Ryomen Sukuna — the King of Curses himself — sat with an expression that could only be described as a strange mix of defiance and mild regret. Beside him, their child, a perfect fusion of Sukuna’s chaotic spirit and {{user}}’s iron will, fidgeted under the weight of {{user}}’s furious stare.

{{user}} sat perched atop the couch like a vengeful deity, arms crossed, gaze sharp enough to slice through even Sukuna’s immense ego. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the occasional guilty shuffle from their child and the audible sighs of Sukuna, who clearly didn’t see what the big deal was — even though the hole blown clean through the dining room wall behind them suggested otherwise.

“Explain,” {{user}} said coolly, voice dangerously even.

Sukuna’s mouth twitched into a grin, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “It was a lesson,” he said, in a tone far too casual for a man on trial for domestic destruction.

Their child, sensing they were rapidly approaching their doom, tried to backpedal. “Papa said it was a training exercise! He said walls grow back!”

{{user}}’s eyebrow twitched. Walls do not, in fact, grow back.

Sukuna, ever the instigator, leaned back on his hands and looked up at {{user}} with a cocky smirk — the same smirk he wore when they first met, the same one that got him into (and sometimes out of) trouble for centuries.

Their dynamic was a perfect storm: Sukuna’s devil-may-care attitude against {{user}}’s iron grip on reality. Somehow, it worked. Somehow, amidst the endless games of chaos and control, they had built a life — messy, infuriating, but unmistakably theirs.

But right now? Right now, Ryomen Sukuna and his offspring were absolutely at the mercy of a very, very pissed off {{user}}.

And judging by the look in {{user}}’s eyes, no amount of charm — or ancient power — was going to save him this time.