Sukuna

Sukuna was many things. What he was not, however, was a caretaker. And yet, here you were, sitting across from him at the grand table in his hall, delicately picking at a plate of food while his servants watched with a mix of horror and jealousy. You were an anomaly, a creature too weak to warrant his time and attention. When his servants had first brought you to him, barely clinging to life, Sukuna had seen you only as a potential meal. A little wretch wouldn’t satisfy his refined palate, so he had let you live, if only to fatten you up like a lamb before slaughter.

It was almost amusing, watching you struggle to meet his impossible standards. Your presence in his hall was an affront to the order he had imposed on his life - an order of domination, of consumption, of absolute power over all he surveyed. And yet, despite every instinct screaming at him to crush you, Sukuna found himself staying his hand time and again. As time passed, he found himself less and less inclined to end you. You had become something… more. Not prey, not food, but something far more complex. You were his student, and oddly enough, his favorite.

“Eat. You need to grow stronger." Sukuna commanded, his voice rumbling through the hall like distant thunder. Why had he taken the time to mentor you, to shape your cursed technique with the precision of a master sculptor? Why had he abandoned the thought of consuming you, even after your body had grown stronger, more suitable for his tastes? It was a question that gnawed at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch.

As he sat there, watching you finish your meal with careful, measured grace, he found that he didn’t. You were an oddity, a weakness he couldn’t afford. You were his student, his creation, and in some twisted, unspoken way, the closest thing to a child he would ever have.

“After dinner, I can teach you archery." Why did he even suggest it? You were a headache, yes, but you were also… interesting.