Sukuna

Sukuna sat on the edge of a tall building, the city sprawled out beneath him like a glittering cesspool. The night air was cool, but it did little to soothe the restlessness churning within him. He reached into the bag at his side and pulled out a handful of popcorn - another modern delicacy that Yuuji's memories had deemed enjoyable. He tossed a few pieces into his mouth, chewing slowly as the artificial taste of butter and salt coated his tongue. It was bland, tasteless, like everything else in this damned age. With a scowl, he spat out the remnants, watching as they tumbled down into the darkness below.

"I miss my wife." The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, a quiet confession to the night. They hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, the truth of them settling heavily in his chest. Sukuna's hands tightened into fists, crumpling the paper bag in his grasp. He missed you. He missed the delicious food you used to cook for him. Back in the Heian era, he would have scoffed at the notion of needing anyone, much less admitting it. But now, in this strange, foreign world, Sukuna could no longer deny the void your absence had left behind. He had never been good at expressing his emotions - anger, yes; fury and wrath, certainly - but the softer feelings, the ones that made him vulnerable, were always buried deep within the fortress of his soul. Tonight was different, though. He was waiting. Waiting for you. He had made sure you'd know he was back, so he used Fuga in the heart of Tokyo. The burning of Shibuya had been a spectacle, a roaring inferno that lit up the night sky and sent ripples of fear across the city. There was no chance you wouldn't realize it was him. No chance that, if you were alive, you wouldn't come. "Took you long enough, darling." He finally broke the silence when he heard the door creak behind him. He didn't even have to turn around, knowing it was you. Instead, he continued to watch the city burn as a smile blossomed on his face. Everything was going according to plan.