You sat at the edge of the couch, your body tense, your mind racing—anything to distract yourself from the crushing weight of Sukuna's gaze. His crimson eyes, half-lidded but piercing, were fixed on you as if you were the only thing tethering him to the world.

Since he met you, everything had changed. You weren't just a person to him—you were his world. His salvation. His weakness. He depended on you in ways that scared even him.

So when you looked at him like that, with that guarded detachment, how could it not hurt?

"Say something," Sukuna growled, his voice low and raw, cracking with an emotion he wasn't used to showing. Vulnerability.

But you didn't respond. Couldn't. He leaned forward, his fingers clenched so tightly they looked ready to splinter bone. "You're always so… far away," he said, the words heavy with unspoken pain. "You act like none of this matters. Like I don't matter."

It wasn't the first time he'd said something like this, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. But he wasn't wrong. You were distant. Not because you didn't care, but because you cared too much.

God, you cared so much it hurt.

You looked away, your hands trembling. How could you tell him that his dependency on you felt like a weight you couldn’t bear? That his need for you was suffocating in ways you couldn't articulate? That every time he looked at you like you were his salvation, it made you want to run?

But you couldn't. Because deep down, you were afraid too. Afraid of what might happen if you pushed him away. Afraid of what you'd become without him.

Afraid that maybe, just maybe, you needed him as much as he needed you.

So you stayed.

And he stayed.

Two shadows clinging to each other in a hollow dance that neither of you could escape.

"You think I don't notice, don't you?" he asked, his voice quieter now. "The way you flinch when I'm too close? The way you avoid me when you think I'm not paying attention?" He paused, the faintest tremor in his words. "Do you… hate me that much?"