"I will make an exception for you," Sukuna said.
Hanae stared at him. He stood with perfect posture, hands behind his back like a noble, his expression calm—but his eyes… his eyes were far too still for a child.
"If you keep running away from me, then you can't care for me," he continued. "The thing within me? It's gone now. I'm Sukuna. Not your ancient demon lord."
His voice held no malice, only certainty. Like a king issuing a decree—not to punish, but to clarify.
"I give permission, to only you, to act casually with me," he added. "I won't harm you, as long as you don't betray me."
The word harm chilled her. He didn't say "get angry" or "feel sad." He didn't say "forgive." He used the language of violence with surgical neutrality.
And yet… there was something in his tone. Something faint and trembling beneath the control.
Vulnerability?
Need?
Or perhaps just the desire to be obeyed on his own terms.
Then he tilted his head, lips curling ever so slightly.
"How about you show me cooking?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~First Cooking Lesson
Setting: The Ryomen estate's private kitchen, seldom used.
Hanae prepares simple ingredients—root vegetables, broth, dried mushrooms. Sukuna stands at her side, back straight, observing everything. He doesn't speak much, but his questions are sharp.
"Why add the ginger first, not after boiling?"
"What's the point of the steam, if you just uncover it?"
Hanae answers him gently. She's surprised to find herself smiling—just a little. For the first time, he feels like her child, not a celestial threat.
He doesn't smile back. But he listens.
---
Observation and Mastery
Over the next few days, Hanae catches him watching again—never interrupting. She begins cooking more often, sometimes even humming softly, feeling a warmth she hadn't allowed herself before.
Then one morning she finds the kitchen already in use.
Sukuna stands before the pot, ladle in hand.
He has cooked the exact same dish she showed him.
It smells… better.
"You were a bit too generous with the salt," he says calmly, handing her a bowl.
She tastes it.
He's right.
She should be offended. Instead, she laughs softly for the first time in years.
"Then what will you cook tomorrow?" she asks.
"Meat," he replies. "Raw meat, cooked over flame. I want to see how blood changes flavor with time."
"Don't get your hopes up that I'll be cooking foods for you. Consider yourself lucky you got to taste it. You are the only and will be the only."
It's still him, she realizes. That chilling insight, the clinical way he understands things. But he's learning through her. And some part of her is proud.
---
Internal Shift – Hanae's POV
Hanae begins to change.
She hums while preparing rice.
She touches his shoulder gently when passing behind him.
She watches him as he reads late at night, and wonders how someone so cold can also be… lonely.
And one evening, as he sets the table with perfect precision, she says without thinking:
"You'll make someone a wonderful husband one day."
He pauses.
"I won't belong to anyone," he replies. "But they may belong to me."
She swallows hard. It's not the answer she hoped for. But it's the truth—his truth.
Still… she begins to dream again. Maybe not of a perfect family. But of being seen, not just used.
And now—Sukuna sees her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soft clang of steel wind chimes echoed through the secluded monastery halls nestled within the snowy ranges of Mt. Renge.
Senta, cloaked in prayer robes, walked briskly toward the inner sanctum. His expression was unreadable, but urgency traced his every step.
At the heart of the compound, Grand Monk Kogetsu stood before an ancient altar, hands clasped, deep in silent contemplation.
Senta bowed low.
"Master. They have come."
Kogetsu's eyes opened slowly.
A breath—almost reverent—left his lips.
"…Where?"
"They wait in the Chamber of Lotus Shadows."
Kogetsu said no more.
He moved without sound, descending through winding stone steps carved beneath the temple. The torches lining the wall flickered unnaturally, even though no wind followed him. When he reached the sealed door, he drew a charm from his sleeve, placed it against the stone, and whispered a prayer known only to the highest monks.
The seal unraveled. The door creaked open.
The Chamber of Lotus Shadows was a vast, circular void. Black walls reflected nothing. Only a single ring of white flame floated at the center—casting no heat, no smoke.
Within that ring stood three figures, draped in ethereal shilahoute—their forms cloaked in layered veils of divine light and shadow. Faces hidden, feet above the floor, they hovered like forgotten gods remembered only in prayer.
Kogetsu entered and immediately knelt, forehead touching the cold ground.
"…Honored ones."
The figure in the center stepped forward. The voice that followed was neither male nor female, neither old nor young.
It was absolute.
"The reincarnation walks the land again."
Kogetsu remained bowed. "We… believe so, exalted ones. The heavens shook. The stars whispered. The texts bled."
The leftmost figure tilted their head ever so slightly. The one on the right flared with subtle light.
"You have not found them?"
Kogetsu finally lifted his head, just enough to speak. "No. The exact location remains hidden. The cursed winds surrounding his birth masked much. But we are narrowing it down. The presence is powerful—like a blinding fire behind a veil. It will not stay hidden long."
The lead figure raised their hand.
From the floating flame above, a single object descended—a flute, carved from silver-white bone, wrapped in celestial string.
"When the reincarnation is found," the being said, "you will use this whistle."
"Call us."
"We shall annihilate him and all who stand with him."
Kogetsu accepted the whistle with both hands, eyes trembling with awe.
"Let no mortal hesitate," the figure continued. "This is not a child. Not a boy. Not a being of fate. This is **He Who Crawled From Heaven**—the one cast down long ago."
"This is the same soul."
The third figure finally spoke, in a voice like cracking ice.
"If you falter… we will bring down judgment not only on him, but upon this entire continent."
Kogetsu nodded, sweat running cold down his spine.
"Yes. We understand."
The figures began to fade.
"Your faith will be tested, monk."
"Do not forget who walks among you."
Then they vanished—light collapsing into a single drop of silence.
The chamber dimmed. The divine presence was gone.
Kogetsu stayed kneeling for a long while, eyes still locked on the whistle in his hands.
"…They fear him," he whispered.
"Even now."
Continued...