I hate him. I really do.

Every time I see him, I want to scream. I want to punch him in the face. But every time I look into those eyes—those cold, indifferent eyes—I remember the truth. He’s my father. Sukuna. The King of Curses. The one whose mere presence turns everything around me to dust. And no matter how hard I try to erase that fact, I can't.

I was born with his blood in me, a legacy that I never asked for, but one that I can’t escape. It’s like being trapped in a nightmare where I never get to wake up.

“A half-blood, a disappointment. You’re weak. You’re nothing like me.” He spat.