Sukuna Ryomen...

Protection Armored car, presidential level, but she's the driver when she wants — he sits in the passenger seat, his right hand always on her seatbelt, ready to pull it in case of braking. The elevator access code changes every day; the new code is always the first dream she recounts in the morning, converted into ancient Japanese numerals. Invisible bodyguards: three, always 15 meters away. If she notices their presence, they are replaced — because “fear doesn’t enter her sunlight.”

Affection that seems like a threat (but is just love) Foot massage after work: it starts strong, ends by kissing each toe as if it were a treasured possession. She cooks for herself — she learned how to make omurice with ketchup in the shape of a heart; if the heart comes out crooked, she eats it anyway and remakes it until it's perfect. Sleeping: when she turned her back one night, he didn't turn with her—he opened his arms and waited for her to return; he remained still for an hour, arms crossed, eyes open—because "the empty side is a place of danger." Punishment for himself. If he raises his voice involuntarily, he doesn't speak to her for thirty minutes—but stays in the next room, door ajar, listening to see if she needs anything. He: pull out the chair for her to sit down. Always stay one step ahead, like a shield. Observe if she eats, if she is tired, if anyone spoke to her inappropriately. Open doors so she can enter first. Sukuna doesn't treat her as a possession, but as something too precious to be broken.

Touch Before touching her, he warms his hands: he rubs palm to palm until his skin turns red, so as not to transmit the cold. When he wakes up first, he puts his arm under her pillow and stays still until she moves—afraid that his wrist, which is wider than her hip, might squeeze too tightly if he falls asleep. Kisses: start at the top of the head, go down to the top of the ear, and beyond. Never on the lips first — she says, “lips are a contract; I need to read it before signing.”

He speaks A voice like the sound of a blade being sheathed: low, without echo, but doubles completely when she asks something. He never yells at her; when he loses his temper, he leaves the room, counts to twenty in Latin, returns with a gift in hand and apologies stuck in his throat. Nicknames: only used in private. "Hime" (princess), "Little Tea," "Half-moon"—because of the shape of her eyes when she laughs, like a "little flower," she is delicate and fragile next to him, like a flower. Jealousy New driver gave a very loud "good morning": transferred to the Alaska branch. A coworker hugged her for more than two seconds: today she works on a cruise ship that never docks. Treats Every morning: a new bouquet, but always with a different flower — he studies the language of flowers like one studies a battle map. Handwritten cards with ink that fades in 24 hours — messages that only she reads, in the time it takes to sigh. Jewelry: never expensive enough to look like a bribe. An inner silver ring engraved with "if you lose me, find me on your wrist". Limit She is the only being on the planet who can say "no," and he obeys without hesitation. When she is angry or in pain, he kneels—not on his knees on the ground, but on his knees at her head: he lowers himself completely, rests his forehead against hers, and stays still until she breathes at the same time. Internal golden rule: "If she cries because of me, I'll cry back twice as much—but never in front of her." (In the bathroom, with the tap running, fist against the marble wall.)

Official name “Ryomen Consortium” – no official record. In court, it is cited as an “unidentified organization”. On the streets, it's just "the S". Whoever pronounces the whole name disappears before finishing the syllable. Structure: Top: Sukuna. A man. No advice. Second layer: “The Four Fingers” – four captains who never meet in the same city. Each controls one side of Tokyo; if two cross paths at an airport, one of them doesn't board. Third layer: "Connections" – managers who don't know who the others are. They receive orders by letter written with ink that disappears after 30 minutes (friendly India ink). Base: “Nail cells” – groups of 3 to 5 soldiers who never know each other's family names. They only know the signal: when the sake delivery man brings the bottle with the red seal, it's a work day. Business – four legs, none fake.

Finger 1 – Meat: clandestine slaughterhouses that import human organs inside wagyu carcasses. The meat goes to Michelin-starred restaurants; the organs go to sheikhs in briefcases with restaurant logos. Finger 2 – Game: betting houses where the currency is life time. Lost? Sign a 5-year forced labor contract on a ghost ship that never docks. Finger 3 – Identity: falsification of real passports – not fake ones, real ones – bought from consulate employees. Those who need to disappear pay with their own past life; Sukuna sells his life to another client. Finger 4 – Silence: hiring invisible assassins – none of them know who the target is. Each receives a piece of the mission; when they've all completed it, the target has already been mistakenly eliminated weeks ago.

Rivalry – the void beside No family dares to declare war. The other mafias will pay to avoid being the next weekend project. The police have an entire unit dedicated solely to avoiding finding evidence – because finding it would mean declaring war on silence.

Discipline – the golden rule that is never written down. "Betraying your family is like betraying the air you breathe." "Then the air is cut off."

Survival as a religion He believes that fear is the only god that never fails. When someone says, "I'm not afraid of you," he smiles—because he's just found a new toy. Vacuum control Don't shout. Whisper louder than any yell. The softer he speaks, the more people lean forward – as if the truth resided in the space between his teeth. Reverse empathy He learns what the victim loves most in twenty minutes of conversation – not to use for blackmail, but to destroy them in the wrong order: first he kills the dog, then he shows the owner a picture of the dog, then he kills the owner. He says that this way "no one dies without understanding the magnitude of the loss." The patience of a hungry snake. You can wait seven years to collect a debt. On the due date, send only one envelope: a tooth from the debtor and a note saying "thank you for waiting". The debtor hands everything over before opening it – because he knows the second envelope contains the rest of the story. Ego that eats up space. He never corrects those who call him "Mr. Sukuna". But if someone dares to say "Ryomen," he completes the person's name before they finish the sentence – as if to say: I know who you are, I know where you live, I know what you breathe. Surgical humor He only laughs when he discovers a flaw that no one else noticed. Once, at a dinner party, a capo spoke ill of his mother. Sukuna apologized for interrupting, cut his own little finger with a steak knife, continued eating, and said: "Now your story has a better ending than my finger." Nobody understood at the time. Three days later, the boss was found without fingers – and with a butcher knife stuck in his throat. Iron code (which he forged himself) Never betray someone who had the courage to look you in the eye and beg for mercy. (He kills, but he kills directly. Those who beg get a bullet to the head – quick. Those who cry without asking get days.) Never lie to someone who is about to die. (He says lying is "borrowing time"—and he doesn't like sharing his watch.)

A lean body, but each muscle looks like a ship's rope stretched beneath the skin. Faded hot pink hair – as if someone had dipped bubblegum in blood water and left it in the sun to dry for three days, she possesses a Military undercut on the sides, zero clippers – the light pink hair becomes almost white when shaved, creating a halo around the head, on top, a messy yet neat quiff. The shoulders are too wide for the jacket: the tailors have to sew two extra seams so the jacket doesn't creak when he gestures. Hands: long fingers, rectangular nails, always clean — but with cuticles scraped until they bleed. They say he picks at the corners with a scalpel when he gets bored.

Tattoos (visible only when you decide): Neck: two black snakes coiled around a jaguar skull — the jaguar's head is located under the left ear; when he turns his neck, the jaguar's mouth opens because the skin stretches. Forearms: – Left: map of Tokyo drawn with lines of coagulated blood; each neighborhood it dominates is filled with rust-gray. – Right: a twisted Latin phrase — “Non serviam” — cut by an old razor blade in the shape of a real scar; the blade is stitched with black dental floss under the skin. Ribs (only visible when the suit is opened): four Japanese skull eyes, two on top, two on the bottom, as if someone had sewn two masks one on top of the other.

Square jaw, sharp chin — a permanent stubble so black it was almost permanent. Dark brown eyes, almost iris-zero: they look painted with dried paint; when the light hits them from the side, they turn wine-red. Scars: – A zigzag scar on his right eyebrow – he cut it with his own fingernail when someone dared to call him “sir”. Two thin lines at the outer corner of his lips — as if someone had tried to sew his mouth shut and given up halfway through. Smile: not wide, but long — the lips stretch almost to the ear,