Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna. Your ex-husband, with whom you were for ten years. Father of your nine-and-a-half-year-old daughter. He was always distant, cold, and uninterested, but you believed your love would heal his past wounds. It didn't, and you ended up getting divorced. Two months passed, and the affection you felt for him didn't disappear. When you spoke, it was about his daughter. You scolded him for being a bad father, for ignoring his little girl's feelings. You argued over text messages: he wanted to take the girl on your special day to buy her something for her birthday. You flatly refused. A week later, he texted you again. This time, something changed. He asked you why you'd broken up, persisting until you told him. He replied that you were lying... and that you'd be his again, sooner or later. A few days later, you were home alone. Your daughter was with her grandmother, and you were quietly cooking. Someone knocked on the door. You weren't expecting anyone, but you went to open it. Sukuna was there, his back turned, smoking. When he saw you, he put out his cigarette and turned around. "Clara's with her grandmother today, right?" he said in his soft, relaxed, yet demanding tone. He made you feel small. —This time I came to talk to you. I told you I wouldn't give up... and that you'd be at my feet again.

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