Sukuna's POV:

I'll be honest—I didn't want to think about it. The moment I saw those bruises on Y/N's thighs, my mind pulled me right back to a place I'd tried to bury for years. A long time ago, when I was a kid, something similar happened to me. Someone decided they could push me around, leave marks on my skin, try to break me. But I came out of that shit different. Stronger. More dangerous. And I swore I'd never let anyone put me in that position again.

But now, here I was, looking at Y/N's unconscious body in the infirmary, those dark bruises on her pale skin, and all that old anger started bubbling up again. And this time, it wasn't about me. It was about her.

Which pissed me off more than I could explain.

Why the fuck was I feeling this way? Why did I give a damn? 

Sure, I'd spent years tormenting her, getting under her skin just for fun. She was my personal punching bag, in a way. But only I was allowed to do that. No one else. So seeing those marks—knowing someone else had done that to her? It made my blood boil.

::.............................................::

I left her in the infirmary after the nurse said she'd be fine with some rest, but I wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

I had to know who did this to her.

As I walked out of the building, my mind was running in circles, trying to piece everything together. That man from yesterday—the one who'd been at her house. He looked shady as fuck, like the kind of guy who thought he had control over everything. And the way Y/N had trembled in front of him... Fuck. It all started making sense now.

That bastard was responsible. He had to be.

I wasn't going to let this slide.

I needed to figure out who that guy was, and fast. I couldn't do this shit alone, so I made a couple of calls. The first one was to Mahito. That bastard always had his nose in other people's business, so I figured if anyone knew about some shady guy hanging around, it'd be him. Then I hit up Kenjaku. He had connections everywhere, and since moving to Kyoto after my grandfather died, I'd met both of them through some real sketchy circles. We weren't exactly friends, but they owed me a favor or two.

Kenjaku was Geto's older brother, though I wasn't sure if Geto knew what kind of shit his sibling was mixed up in. And frankly, I didn't give a fuck. The less anyone else knew about what I was digging into, the better. This was my business. My problem to solve. Nobody else's.

Later that day, Mahito got back to me. "Found something juicy," he said over the phone, that twisted grin of his practically dripping through the line. "That guy you're asking about? The one from yesterday? His name's Shimizu. And, well... let's just say he's got some dirty little secrets."

"Spit it out," I snapped. I didn't have time for his cryptic bullshit.

"Alright, alright, calm your tits. Shimizu's been involved in some shady-ass dealings. You know, trafficking, smuggling shit under the radar, stuff that would make people disappear if it came to light. He's got enough dirt on him to sink a fucking yacht."

Jackpot.

"So, what? He's a two-bit criminal hiding behind a clean image?"

Mahito chuckled. "Something like that. But here's the kicker: if someone were to expose all that, he'd be finished. Out on the streets with nothing but his balls to keep him warm."

Perfect.

I hung up, and immediately started planning my next move. I wasn't going to let this slide. If this bastard thought he could hurt her and get away with it, he had another thing coming. And I was going to make sure he understood exactly who he was dealing with.

I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass. Y/N was probably just one of the many he'd terrorized, and that wasn't fucking acceptable. No way in hell was I letting some piece of shit like him get away with it.

I hopped on my bike and sped off toward Y/N's house, my mind filled with a burning need for vengeance. Not just for Y/N, but for the past—for the kid I used to be, for the things I'd gone through. I wasn't that kid anymore. I was fucking Sukuna. And no one hurt someone under my watch without facing the consequences.

::.............................................::

When I pulled up to Y/N's house, the maids looked frantic, whispering amongst themselves as I barged through the door without giving a damn about courtesy.

"Where the fuck is Shimizu?" I demanded, my voice booming through the hallway. One of the maids tried to stop me, but I shrugged her off like she was nothing.

"Y-You can't just barge in like this—" she started, but I cut her off with a glare that could kill.

"I'm not here for a fucking tea party. Where is he?"

Just then, the man himself came storming into the room, his face twisted in anger. The second he saw me, though, that anger turned into something else—recognition. His eyes narrowed.

"You," Shimizu growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

I smirked, stepping closer. "I'm here to have a little chat with you. Thought we should clear some things up after yesterday."

Shimizu's lips curled in disgust. "Is this about that girl? Don't tell me you're in love with that little whore. Pathetic." He sneered, his words dripping with contempt.

That was it.

I snapped.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the nearest wall, knocking a painting off the hook. The maids gasped, backing away in fear, but I didn't give a shit about them. My attention was solely on Shimizu.

"You don't get to talk about her like that," I hissed, my voice low and dangerous. "And you sure as fuck don't get to put your hands on her."

Shimizu tried to push me off, but I had him pinned too hard. He was struggling, but I could see the fear in his eyes now. Good. Let him be afraid.

"Y-You're making a mistake," he spat, trying to sound tough. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. I've got connections—"

"Connections?" I laughed darkly. "You think your connections are going to save you? I know all about your little side business. The trafficking. The payoffs. All of it." I tightened my grip on his collar, bringing my face closer to his. "And if you don't back the fuck off Y/N, I'll make sure the right people find out about it. I'll drag your ass through the mud so deep you'll be begging on the streets in less than a day."

Shimizu's eyes widened, panic setting in now. He knew I wasn't bluffing. The color drained from his face, and he swallowed hard, realizing he was trapped.

"I... I didn't... She..." he stammered, but I wasn't in the mood for his excuses.

"Shut the fuck up," I growled, slamming him back against the wall again. "You're going to leave her the fuck alone. No more beatings. No more 'training.' Got it?"

He nodded, his breathing shallow. "Y-Yes. Yes, I'll leave her alone."

"And you're not going to say a word about this to her or anyone else. If I hear you so much as breathe near her again, I'll ruin you. Understand?"

"I understand," he croaked, trembling now. He knew I wasn't fucking around.

I let go of his collar, letting him slump against the wall like the coward he was. For a moment, I stood there, just staring at him, my hands still shaking with anger. I wanted to do more—wanted to beat the shit out of him for everything he'd done to her. But that wasn't the plan. No, I had something else in mind for him. And it was way worse than a few punches.

Shimizu nodded again, his body shaking like a leaf. The power I had over him was intoxicating, but I wasn't here for fun. I was here to make sure Y/N never had to deal with his bullshit again.

"Good," I said, stepping back. "Now get the fuck out of my sight."

Shimizu practically ran out of the room, and I stood there for a moment, letting the tension drain from my body. The maids were still standing there, too scared to move, so I shot them a glare.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I barked, and they scattered like cockroaches.

::.............................................::

By the time I made it back to the university, the sun was setting, and I knew Y/N would be awake by now.

I wasn't planning on telling her what I'd done. She didn't need to know. This was my business, not hers. Besides, she'd probably get all weird about it if she found out I'd gone after Shimizu. So I kept my mouth shut.

When I walked into the infirmary, she was sitting up, looking dazed and pale, but at least she was awake.

"You're finally awake, Princess," I said, leaning against the doorframe like I hadn't just threatened to ruin a man's life an hour ago.

Y/N looked at me, confused. "Huh?... Yeah..."

I continued, keeping my face neutral. "You look like shit, but you'll live. Make sure you eat something, will you? You're not gonna last long if you keep starving yourself."

She frowned, glancing down at her hands. "I... I'm not starving myself..."

"Yeah? Tell that to the nurse who said you're dehydrated and malnourished," I shot back.

I tossed a sandwich and a bottle of juice onto the bed next to her. "Eat."

She blinked at me. "What?"

"You heard me," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "You need to get your shit together and start taking better care of yourself. So eat the damn sandwich."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she still hesitated, looking down at the food. "I'm not hungry."

I rolled my eyes, feeling my patience wearing thin. "I don't give a shit if you're hungry or not. Eat."

She blinked, looking between the food and me, her face scrunched up in confusion. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice soft and unsure.

"Because you're fucking useless if you faint all the time," I snapped, crossing my arms. "Now eat the damn sandwich before I shove it down your throat."

That got her attention. With a shaky hand, she picked up the sandwich and started eating, though I could tell she wasn't thrilled about it. She hesitated, clearly not used to me giving her anything but shit.

She still looked confused, though, like she couldn't quite figure out why I was helping her. Hell, I couldn't figure it out either. I was supposed to hate her. She was the annoying rich girl I'd spent years tormenting.

So why the hell was I here, bringing her food, making sure she was okay?

I shook my head, annoyed at myself. This was fucked up. I didn't help people. I didn't care about people. But here I was, watching her eat, making sure she didn't pass out again.

"Stop looking at me like that," I growled, and she quickly looked away, focusing on the sandwich instead.

What the hell was happening to me? Why was I doing this? I didn't have answers, and that pissed me off even more.

I was supposed to hate her. I was supposed to make her life hell, not... whatever this was.

But here I was, doing the exact opposite. And it pissed me off.

I clenched my fists, glaring at the floor, trying to make sense of the twisted mess in my head.

"I don't get it," I muttered under my breath. "Why the fuck am I doing this?"

She looked up at me, confused. "Doing what?"

"Nothing," I snapped. "Just... finish the sandwich."

And with that, I turned and walked out, leaving her to wonder just what the hell had gotten into me.

Because honestly? I was wondering the same damn thing.

::.............................................::

Y/N's POV:

Grogginess washed over me as I blinked into consciousness, my head heavy, my body limp. Where... where was I? The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, and the sterile smell hit my nose—shit, I was in the infirmary.

I tried to sit up, but my muscles felt like jelly, my arms weak and shaking. The last thing I remembered was—fuck.

I'd passed out. In front of Sukuna. No fucking way. My stomach turned in knots as I tried to replay what happened, but it was all a blur. I had been cornered, felt exhausted, couldn't keep myself upright. And then... blackness. Great, just fucking great.

The sudden sound of footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts as the nurse hurried over, concern etched on her face. She gently pushed me back against the pillow, fussing over me like a mother hen. 

"Don't move too quickly, dear," she said, her voice soothing but firm. "You need rest. You gave us quite a scare."

"I... I'm fine," I croaked, though my throat felt like sandpaper, my words weak. I wasn't fine. I was far from fine.

The nurse pressed a cool glass of water to my lips, urging me to drink. I gulped it down like a woman stranded in a desert, the water refreshing and momentarily clearing my head. Then, she gave me that look—the kind of look adults give when they know something you don't.

"You need to eat something," she said, checking my pulse. Her brows furrowed. "You're dehydrated and undernourished. You're lucky you didn't collapse sooner."

I bit my lip, chewing on her words, but my mind was elsewhere. My heart raced as the question that had been clawing at the back of my head screamed for attention. I needed to know.

"Who... who brought me here?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended, but it was out now, no taking it back.

The nurse paused for a moment, as if recalling the details, before speaking again. "A boy brought you in. Tall, with pink hair and tattoos on his face. Quite the foul-mouthed one, if you ask me. He didn't even wait for me to finish asking questions, just dropped you off like some... package."

Sukuna. Of course, it was fucking Sukuna.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me like that, vulnerable, weak. Yet he'd brought me here. 

Why? 

Sukuna didn't give a shit about me. Hell, he made my life miserable on a daily basis. And now he was playing the hero?

I nodded absentmindedly, offering the nurse a weak smile, though inside, I was spiraling. "Thank you," I muttered as she left to tend to something else.

I was left alone with my thoughts. Alone with the weight of everything crashing down on me. My head was spinning. Sukuna had seen me collapse. He had seen me at my worst, and that burned more than any bruise I could get. I hated this. I hated feeling like I was at the mercy of someone who thrived off tormenting me.

I ran a hand through my tangled hair, staring blankly at the wall. How the hell had things gotten this bad? I hadn't even realized how far I'd been running on fumes. My stomach growled, but I pushed the feeling down. I couldn't eat even if I wanted to. Not with the way Shimizu had control over my fucking life, taking away every last ounce of freedom I had. Even something as simple as food.

::.............................................::

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the rising frustration. But then, I heard it—the heavy footsteps approaching, that familiar swagger that could only belong to one person.

Sukuna.

My heart skipped a beat, and I braced myself as the door creaked open. I didn't need to look to know it was him. His presence was like a dark cloud filling the room, suffocating the air.

"You're finally awake, Princess," he drawled from the doorway, leaning against the frame like he didn't have a care in the world. Like he hadn't just dragged my ass to the infirmary.

I shot him a sideways glance, my mind still foggy. "Huh? Yeah..." I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. The casualness in his voice pissed me off. He acted like this was nothing, like I wasn't crumbling from the inside out.

"You look like shit," he said, his tone blunt as ever. "But you'll live. Make sure you eat something, will you? You're not gonna last long if you keep starving yourself."

I frowned, my fingers curling into the bedsheets. "I... I'm not starving myself..."

That was the truth. I wasn't starving myself by choice. It wasn't like I wanted to feel this weak, this fragile. But telling Sukuna that would only give him more ammunition to fire at me. The less he knew, the better.

"Yeah? Tell that to the nurse who said you're dehydrated and malnourished," he shot back, his voice dripping with irritation, like I'd purposely inconvenienced him by passing out.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to look at him. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. I wasn't about to sit here and explain my shitty situation to him of all people.

Suddenly, a sandwich and a bottle of juice landed on the bed beside me. I blinked, looking between the food and Sukuna, utterly confused.

"Eat," he ordered, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes boring into mine like it was a command rather than a suggestion.

"W-What?" I stammered, my brain struggling to keep up.

"You heard me," he said, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You need to get your shit together and start taking better care of yourself. So eat the damn sandwich."

I stared at the food, my mind reeling. Was this some kind of sick joke? Why the hell was he suddenly concerned about whether or not I was eating? Was this another twisted game of his?

"I'm not hungry," I muttered under my breath, pushing the food away.

He rolled his eyes, his frustration palpable. "I don't give a shit if you're hungry or not. Eat."

I hesitated, the sandwich sitting there like a ticking time bomb. Part of me wanted to shove it right back in his face, tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. But the other part of me... was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being hungry, tired of feeling like I had no control.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice soft and uncertain, the question slipping out before I could stop it. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"Because you're fucking useless if you faint all the time," he snapped, his arms crossed tight. "Now eat the damn sandwich before I shove it down your throat."

That got my attention. His tone was harsher now, more aggressive, but it was still laced with something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Maybe it was frustration, or maybe it was something more—something even he didn't understand. Either way, I picked up the sandwich with shaky hands and took a bite.

The taste hit my tongue, relief washed over me as my empty stomach got something to fill it up. And my tastebuds were in bliss too. I could feel Sukuna's eyes on me the entire time, watching every move I made. It was unnerving. He wasn't giving me shit like usual, wasn't hurling insults or making snide remarks. He was just... watching.

It didn't make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

I glanced at him, my confusion deepening. "Why are you helping me?" I whispered, the words barely audible.

He shook his head, annoyed. "Stop looking at me like that."

I quickly averted my gaze, focusing on the sandwich in my hands instead, my mind racing. This wasn't Sukuna. The Sukuna I knew wouldn't care if I dropped dead in front of him. So why was he here? Why was he making sure I ate?

I couldn't wrap my head around it, and clearly, neither could he. There was something in his eyes, something dark and conflicted, like he was fighting a battle inside his own head. But I didn't dare ask.

"I don't get it," he muttered under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself. "Why the fuck am I doing this?"

I looked up at him, startled. "Doing what?"

"Nothing," he snapped, his voice sharper now. "Just... finish the sandwich."

And just like that, he was gone, storming out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

I stared after him, my mind a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and something else—something that I couldn't quite name. Why was he doing this? Why had he brought me here? And most of all, why did I feel... relieved?

I pushed the thoughts away, taking another bite of the sandwich, though it felt like I was swallowing lead. Sukuna was an enigma, one that I couldn't even begin to unravel. But one thing was for sure: something had changed. And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But for now, all I could do was eat and try to gather the pieces of my shattered self, knowing full well that Sukuna had just added another layer of chaos to my already fucked-up life.

::.............................................::

Heys guys!!

How are you all my lovely people?

Here is the next chapter. Hope you all are enjoying my story so far. Please share your thoughts in the comments. I love to read it. And also support me by sharing and voting.

Till then.

See you again soon.