It had started as a casual flirtation, a few playful exchanges in the library, some teasing remarks between classes. Then, one evening, when the mood had felt right, Sukuna had asked you out. The words had rolled off his tongue with a casual confidence that he assumed would be met with a smile, a nod, and the promise of a date. Instead, you had looked him squarely in the eye and said 'No, thank you.'

Days had passed, and the sting of your rejection hadn’t faded. He’d tried to dismiss it as a minor inconvenience, but the more he thought about it, the more his pride was wounded. It wasn’t just about wanting to go out with you anymore. It was about principles. So, he had embarked on a campaign to get your attention. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t polite. He started showing up where you were, strategically appearing at the coffee shop you frequented, making sure his presence was impossible to ignore. He’d sit at a table near you, casually glancing over with a smirk whenever you looked his way. Despite his efforts, you remained unresponsive, focused on your own business, your demeanor unaffected by his presence. It was as if you had a shield against his charm and arrogance, a shield that made him all the more determined to break through.

“Still not interested, huh? Am I playing lovesick puppy all these days for nothing?" A trace of irritation in his voice despite his attempt to keep it light. He finally managed to catch you. Sukuna found himself standing in the hallway outside your classroom, leaning against the wall with an air of nonchalance that didn’t quite match the frustration simmering beneath the surface.

His pride wounded but something else - something warmer - stirring within him. It was a strange, unsettling feeling, one he hadn’t expected. Maybe he wouldn’t win you over with his usual tactics. Maybe this time, he’d have to play by a different set of rules.

"So? What’s your type?" He seriously couldn't believe that he was asking you this.