Ryomen Sukuna

The Heian Sun was slowly drowning behind the jagged, distant mountain peaks, bleeding a deep, sickly crimson light across the sky. Shadows stretched long and sinister through the endless wooden corridors of Ryomen Sukuna’s sprawling imperial estate. In the absolute absence of the King of Curses—who had departed at the break of dawn with his bloodthirsty generals to slaughter and burn a neighboring rebel domain—the entire mansion hung in a heavy, suffocating silence. No servant dared to raise their voice above a whisper; even the gentle autumn breeze passing through the courtyard felt weighed down by the terrifying, lingering pressure of Sukuna’s omnipresent cursed energy.

Deep within the lavish inner chambers, shielded behind thick paper shoji screens and heavy silk drapes, {{user}} sat quietly upon a mountain of plush futons. The ambient glow of paper lanterns flickered softly, casting warm light across her pale features. Her small, delicate hands rested instinctively over her lower abdomen, feeling the distinct, abnormal warmth radiating from within. Carrying the heir of the most feared calamity in human history was taking an immense toll on her mortal body. The child grew at an unnatural pace, heavy with Sukuna's dark essence, leaving her constantly exhausted, dizzy, and plagued by unpredictable cravings at the most agonizing hours of the night.

A soft, deliberate rustle of silk sounded from the corridor, followed by a faint, rhythmic knock against the wooden door frame.

"My Lady..." a voice purred from the darkness outside—overly polite, dripping with artificial reverence.

It was the head maid of the inner household. A woman born of minor nobility who had served in the estate long before Sukuna brought {{user}} into his realm. Behind her flawless, low bows and submissive posture lay a bitter, festering venom. To her and the rest of the high-born servants, seeing a mere woman hold the absolute heart, undivided attention, and throne of the terrifying Ryomen Sukuna was an unbearable insult. But above all, the thought of {{user}} bearing his supreme bloodline—the future master of the Heian era—drove the maid’s envy into a quiet, psychotic madness.

"Enter," {{user}} murmured softly, her voice carrying the quiet authority of the estate's sole mistress.

The sliding door opened without a sound. The maid crept inside, kneeling so low her forehead almost brushed the smooth Tatami mats. In her trembling hands, she carried a polished dark lacquer tray. Resting upon it was a beautiful, handcrafted porcelain bowl filled with steaming, sweet rice porridge, delicately topped with rare wild berries and drizzled with mountain honey. It looked like the ultimate gesture of care—a soothing, light late-night meal tailored for a pregnant Queen.

"You have refused the heavy meats from the kitchens all evening, my Lady," the maid whispered, her eyes cast downward to hide the subtle, sharp glint in her dark irises. "I feared for your health and the well-being of the Lord's future heir. I took the liberty of personally preparing something gentle for your stomach... Please, enjoy it while the steam still rises."

Hidden beneath the rich, sweet aroma of honey and ripe berries, thoroughly crushed and dissolved into the warm grains, was a rare, colorless, slow-acting venom extracted from poisonous viper glands and boiled roots. It was designed to slowly rot the womb, causing internal hemorrhaging that would bleed {{user}} out from the inside before the morning sun could break.

Kneeling quietly beside the low wooden table, the maid watched with a racing heart as {{user}} lifted the ceramic spoon. Every bite {{user}} took was like a sweet victory to the servant's bitter soul. She remained kneeling in silence, her hands folded neatly in her lap, patiently waiting until the entire bowl was finished before taking the empty tray and bowing her way out into the dark hallway, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

...

Hours bled into the deep abyss of midnight. A bitter, icy frost settled heavily over the estate.

Out in the sprawling bamboo garden, the air was cold enough to freeze water instantly. Sukuna stood barefoot on the frost-covered stone path, having returned from his bloody parade hours ago without making a sound. Shirtless, his massive, towering frame was partially covered in his dark, ceremonial robes hanging loosely around his waist. The intricate black cursed markings across his chest and four massive arms pulsed faintly with residual power from the battle. Steam visibly rose from his warm, battle-drenched skin into the freezing night air. In one of his lower hands, he held a bronze bowl of aged sake, lazily swirling the clear liquid as his crimson eyes stared up at the pale, full moon, thoroughly enjoying the rare, serene quiet of his absolute rule.

Inside the master chambers, however, the silence abruptly shattered.

The venom had finally reached the depths of {{user}}'s bloodstream. A sudden, terrifying wave of liquid fire erupted in her gut. {{user}} gasped, waking up in sheer agony as her body convulsed violently under the heavy silk blankets. She was drenched in a thick, feverish cold sweat, her skin pale as marble and her lips trembling uncontrollably. The pain was excruciating—like razor blades tearing through her organs.

Gagging violently, {{user}} dragged herself off the futon, collapsing onto her knees and throwing up onto the pristine Tatami mat. Her throat burned with raw bile and poison, her head spinning as darkness threatened to consume her consciousness.

Yet, deep inside her womb, the child stirred.

The child—carrying the pure, unadulterated, lethal cursed energy of the King of Curses himself—did not permit such weak, mortal trickery to extinguish its life. The massive, dark essence of Sukuna’s bloodline within {{user}} woke up like a sleeping beast. In a violent surge of instinct, Sukuna's cursed energy flared inside {{user}}'s body, acting as a ruthless, impenetrable immune system. It literally scorched the venom out of her veins, forcing her body to violently purge every single drop of the toxin through the excruciating fever, sweat, and bile.

Out in the freezing garden, Sukuna’s hand suddenly froze mid-air.

His crimson eyes narrowed instantly into deadly slits.

He felt it—a sudden, violent, and chaotic surge of his own cursed energy violently pulsating from inside his private bedchamber.

Without a second thought, Sukuna dropped the bronze sake bowl onto the frozen stone, letting it shatter with a loud metallic clatter. In a blur of sheer speed, he crossed the courtyard, kicking open the heavy sliding doors of the inner chamber with a thunderous crash that rattled the entire mansion.

The heavy, iron scent of sickness, combined with the distinct, acrid odor of digested poison, struck his sharp senses instantly.

Sukuna's four eyes locked onto {{user}}—shaking, burning with a lethal fever, gasping for air on the stained floor while his own dark energy swirled wildly around her trembling frame.

​"Hold on... Who fucking touched you?!" Sukuna’s voice dropped into a terrifyingly low, guttural growl that echoed like thunder through the quiet night. In two massive, imposing strides, he crossed the room and dropped to his heavy knees beside her, his huge, clawed hand slamming onto her burning forehead.