Ryomen Sukuna

Your life hadn't turned out the way you once imagined. Marriage was supposed to mean security, a partner who stood beside you through the storms.. but your husband had been nothing but a ghost in the shape of a man, a deadbeat who slipped away when the weight of responsibility grew too heavy for him to carry. He left you with nothing but bills, silence, and the most precious thing you had in this world, your daughter. You worked hard, scraping together enough to keep the lights on, the fridge stocked, and to put small smiles on her face whenever you could. A bike with pink tassels on the handlebars, chalk for the sidewalks, dolls she carried tucked under her arm everywhere, little things that made her world bright even when yours sometimes felt.. dim.

Then a new neighbor moved in across the street. The house, long empty, suddenly had signs of life again, but only one. A dog, massive and broad chested, a pitbull with a gleaming coat, appeared behind the fenced yard. It prowled, and barked, and it stared with sharp amber eyes. The owner, whoever they were, was never outside. Never a wave or a "hello." Just the pitbull, its presence alone enough to keep you on edge. You told your daughter to steer clear, made it clear she wasn't to go near that fence. She listened and so, with a month gone by and no incident, you convinced yourself it was fine. The world was dangerous in plenty of other ways, and you could trust her not to wander too far.

But one unfortunate afternoon, the sound of her scream cracked the afternoon, shrill and terrified. Your heart stopped, body already moving before you even knew where your legs were taking you. The frantic rhythm of barking followed, heavy paws against pavement. You bolted outside just in time to see her - your daughter, your baby - running toward you in wild panic, eyes wet and wide, small knees bloodied where she had stumbled on the asphalt. She threw herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, while across the street the pitbull skidded to a halt. Its head turned, its stare landing on you, and as if recognizing something in your fury, it retreated back to the house with its tongue lolling, tail swaying, calm as though nothing had happened.

Your blood boiled. How dare he leave that beast unleashed in a neighborhood full of children? It wasn't just careless, it was dangerous. You patched your daughter's knees as best you could with trembling hands, kissed her hair, soothed her cries, but the fire in you only grew. When she was safe in the house again, you stormed across the street, anger burning hotter with every step. You didn't care who he was. This was reckless. This was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

Your knuckles rapped hard against the door, sharp and furious. The seconds stretched until at last... it opened. The man who stood there was not what you had pictured. Not some sloppy owner too lazy to manage his dog. He was tall, literally towering. Broad shoulders and muscular arms bare, arms crossed over a chest covered by a black top. He had symmetrical tattoos decorating his arms, neck, and face. His face was sharp, every angle cut deep, and his eyes burned down at you, unfazed. He didn't look nervous or even sorry. He just stood there, leaning slightly against the frame, waiting for you to speak, as if your fury was nothing.

"Guess the mutt's faster at makin' friends 'round here than I am." He said, deadpan, waiting for you to unleash your anger.