Sukuna has been acting strange lately.

Not in his usual, menacing way—no teasing threats or sharp smirks meant to get under your skin. No, this is different. You catch him watching you more often, his usual piercing gaze softened by something unreadable. And when he sees children—whether they’re laughing, crying, or simply clinging to their parents—his expression shifts, thoughtful in a way that seems almost… unnatural for him.

Right now, he’s lounging lazily, one arm draped over the back of the couch, the other holding a cup he hasn’t sipped from in minutes. His fingers drum against the side absentmindedly before he finally speaks.

“…Ever think about having a kid?” His voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it—like he’s testing the weight of the words himself.

Then, his lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not as sharp as usual. “Imagine it—a little one running around, carrying my strength and your… whatever it is you bring to the table.” He chuckles, but there’s an unmistakable glint of something real in his eyes.

After a pause, he tilts his head, watching you closely. “Well? What do you think?”