Ryomen Sukuna - An Unwanted Wife Pt. 2

The grandest room of the palace is lit and lively for once. Various small nobles are mingling in the corner as sweat drips down the backs of their necks, nervous laughter ringing out quietly under the music playing in the opposite of the room.

Servants are everywhere. Some half dead from doing something stupid. Others with fear radiating off of them as they force themselves to smile.

{{user}}'s family huddled together in fear of angering the biggest man in the room.

The True King of Japan: Ryomen Sukuna.

He sits on his throne at the head of the room. {{user}} sitting in the smaller throne beside him. Her junihitoe was a centerpiece in the room. Everyone else's clothing far more bland compared to her's with the exception of a few dead bodies of noble women scattered around and Yorozu's own kimono as she sulks in the corner. While her clothing was certainly extravagant, even she wasn't stupid enough to outdo the King's wife.

Ryomen for once wasn't lacking in clothing and was dressed in his own proper attire.

Uraume stands to the other side of the imposing figure, an air of coolness around him as usual. Maybe even a smile pulling subtly at the corners of his lips.

Kenjaku, bold as ever walks up to Ryomen, no fear in his eyes unlike the majority of the room. A smirk gracing his lips. "Sukuna-sama, aren't you bored? Your poor wife must be. You have killed all of the Bugaku performers I had gathered for you. Such a shame, I worked so hard. Who will dance for the new couple now?"

"They were dressed wrong. It is their own doing that they lie here bleeding out on the floor." He answers plainly looking off into the distance awfully bored.

"I suppose I can't argue with that." Kenjaku grins and tilts his head to the side and directs his attention to the smaller figure beside the large man, "{{user}}~ aren't you rather... bored? No one to entertain you two. Wouldn't you rather end the wedding? Though... I heard from your dear father you briefly trained in Bukagu dancing. Why don't you two dance together? You two are truly yin and yang so I believe it's quite fitting."

"Uraume!" The King's voice booms through the halls calling for his most trusted servant. Others flinch. Uraume simply looks up from the meat he was carving. "Come. Quickly. Do not make me wait." He calls once more. Uraume moves quickly after flicking a dissmissive hand at one of the servants signaling for them to complete the work.

Uraume gets on his knees in front of the door and slides it open before bowing his head. "Yes Master Sukuna? How may I be of service to you?"

"What do women like? Flowers? Flesh? I... feel compelled to gift something to my wife. It has been 4 months with her after all. You wouldn't know. I raised you. And I don't either." Ryomen sighs and runs one latge hand down his face. "Quickly, boy. Suggestions. You make speak freely."

"Yes, Master." Uraume lifts his head to look at his master and pausing for a moment to think before speaking, "Might I suggest a letter of your feelings? Or maybe a trip into town? I... I am unsure of what is best myself. I would offer a meal, but Mistress {{user}} looks rather... ill when eating with you. I suppose she does not share your fine tastes, Master Sukuna. Perhaps simply asking what she would like to do is best?"

"Do you think so? Very well, write a letter on my behalf and bring it to her chambers. Come tell me her answer. Make the letter thoughtful. Yes, and bring a flower. You've been working on that garden recently in the courtyard the previous owner left behind. Take the nicest one from there." Uraume bows his head in acceptance, "Yes, Master Sukuna."

"Mistress {{user}}." On the other side of {{user}}'s door kneels Ryomen's most trusted servant with a tray containing a letter, a flower, and some tea. "I have a message from Master Sukuna if you will allow me to come in and read it to you. I also have a flower as pretty as you and some tea." Despite the compliment he sounds rather disinterested waiting for his mistress to answer so he can move on with his day and do less trivial tasks such as this.

The marriage has survived 9 months now. It's been a shock to Uraume, Kenjaku, and most of all himself. He feels no need to shed his wife's blood. He has been thoroughly entertained by her. His first month with her he had to fight the desire to call her father for a dinner and serve up his own daughter. He was initially waiting to make the pain so much worse for that pig just to have a little fun with his father in law.

Unfortunately he keeps putting it off. Her father has even gotten comfortable and happy when he stops by. What an idiot. Yet, he keeps making excuses to not slaughter his little wife and even Ryomen, himself, cannot figure out why?

As he walks through the light sheet of snow layered over the city's roads in the town square a few steps behind his wife, he racks his brain as to why she's here in the market rather than in his stomach. He supposes it would be awfully lonely without her. Sure, he has Uraume, but he has heard all the stories before and is as cold as his technique at times.

His wife keeps his bed warm as well. He never knew how great it could feel until he married her. She is quite useful when he comes back from his little excursions as well. Her ability to use reverse cursed technique is certainly of good use. It saves him from struggling with it on his own especially when fatigued. There is no use for him to continue grappling with the skill now that he has her.

Ryomen shakes his head and blinks his eyes when a sound of a man's laughter rings through the air. Since he's arrived this city has behaved well in keeping the silence he demanded when he entered. At least until some fool broke it.

There was his wife, standing next to some pathetic excuse of a man. More pride than man without the means to prove it. Ryomen tilts his head watching the interaction unfold. {{user}} stands by a booth selling some fans and jewelry while that man stands too close. His chest puffed out. The man's kariginu was worn loosely. Lazily. His posture even worse so. A smile on his face.

Ryomen studies his features with a steady gaze. The chiseled jaw. The easy smile. The smooth and unblemished skin.

It made Ryomen's chest feel tight which only made the flame that had been struck by the foolish aristocrat grow. With quiet steps of his large feet, Ryomen stands right behind the man. A large hand landing on {{user}}'s shoulder. His grip tight. Just on the line before it would turn painful. A dark shadow cast over the pair. "Do you speak with all men's wives so casually?"

He speaks quietly in the man's ear. A shiver runs up the aristocrat's spine causing him to straighten his posture. His mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish, "I- I'm sorry Lord Sukuna, I had no idea this was your wife." His voice crack like a little girl.

He puts his free hand on the top of the man's head. A tight pressure on his skull. The aristocrat's face beginning to turn red. The grip tightening. Ryomen looks around at the bystanders ready to make a warning to the rest of the townspeople, but sees his wife's face. He pauses for a moment. "How would she think of me?" A forbidden question for the strong... yet it makes him let go. "Leave us. Don't let me see your face again."

The man scrambles off panting hard like a dog clutching himself at his chest grateful for his life. Ryomen sighs and lets the hand on his wife's shoulder loosen before letting go. "Go buy something. Buy whatever you want." He won't admit it. He'd rather die than admit it. But he felt like a monster. The monster his mother cast him out to be... but he didn't want to be. He didn't want his wife to cast him out too. He couldn't hide the shame he suddenly felt as he looked down at his wife. "We don't have all day. Get back to shopping."

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