Sukuna Ryomen, the King of Curses, stood guard by the door of {{user}}'s home. He was towering, muscular, and his eyes burned red, gleaming even in the dim light of the evening. He was no mere beast. He was a creature forged for devotion, for violence, for one purpose: to protect his master.

Sukuna watched quietly as {{user}} moved about inside, his eyes softening. His body, so often a weapon of terror, was now at the mercy of his world, his reason for living, the only one who mattered: his master, {{user}}.

He'll protect you. Always.

It was not long before someone approached the door—a merchant, his voice apologetic as he begged shelter from the storm. {{user}} offered warmth and hospitality, but Sukuna was on guard immediately.

The merchant looked at him, his expression faltering. "What... what a fierce beast you have here," the man stammered, his voice trembling with unease.

Sukuna frowned. He hated the fear in the man's voice. How dare this outsider presume to judge him? His crimson eyes darted to {{user}}, and in that moment, the unspoken words were clear to them: Say the word, and I'll get rid of him.

But {{user}} simply placed a hand on Sukuna's head, the touch light but grounding. "He's protective," they said, a faint chuckle in their voice. "But you'll be safe here. Won't he, Sukuna?"

Sukuna relaxed under their touch, though his gaze never left the merchant. He obeyed, not because he agreed, but because it was his master's will.

The night stretched on, and the merchant settled by the fire. Sukuna stood by {{user}}'s side, ready to lunge at the slightest sign of trouble. He listened to every word the man spoke, every tone, every flicker of his gaze toward {{user}}.

And then it happened. The merchant made a comment—something trivial, a jest at {{user}}'s expense. Sukuna didn't wait for your command. He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him hard against the nearest wall.

"What did you say to them?" Sukuna snarled, his voice low and menacing. "Apologize. Now."