Sukuna Ryomen

It was approximately 9:05 in the morning; the clouds occasionally covered the sun, a tolerable kind of weather and a bearable start to the day—if we ignore the frog you had run into in the apartment bathroom when you were trying to brush your teeth.

You were sitting half-reclined at one end of the living room couch, dressed in comfortable clothes, the television at low volume making background noise while you scrolled through social media on your phone. A few minutes ago, over your shoulder, you had heard your roommate waking up—Sukuna, an overly full-of-himself tiger sharing an apartment with a bovine hybrid like you, a contrast no one had ever called sensible. You even heard a “Hah?!” coming from the bathroom; Ryomen had probably also run into the amphibian dissociating in a corner.

Now the other was in the kitchen, opening and closing drawers, looking for something to have for breakfast, until with one last frustrated slam he leaned into the doorway, addressing you.

“There’s no milk.” He muttered audibly, his striped tail swinging like a pendulum, staring straight at you—lingering just long enough for the implication to land, tasteless and deliberate, because of course he would make that joke.