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The room was silent save for the soft rhythm of your breathing, a gentle sound that was like a lullaby to his restless mind. Sukuna lay beside you, his eyes open, staring into the dark expanse of the room. The moonlight slanted through the window, casting a pale silver sheen on the floor, but his gaze didn’t follow the light. His thoughts were elsewhere—far beyond the confines of this room, beyond the limits of time and space.
He was drifting, caught in the ebb and flow of his own mind, watching the currents of endless possibilities swirl around him like shadows. He thought of other worlds, other lives, where the two of you had been tied in ways that were almost as intimate as the one you shared now.
In one life, he was a knight—his sword an extension of his will, his promise to protect you like an unbreakable oath. His armour was heavy, the weight of it a constant reminder of his duty, but it was you he protected, always you, no matter the cost. He could see it so clearly, the way his eyes would always return to yours, how he would fight battles, not for glory or honour, but for you. The idea of laying down his life for you, of living in a world where that was his sole purpose, stirred something deep within him, a yearning he had long ago buried beneath layers of time and death.
In another life, the two of you wandered the earth together. No title, no crown, no obligations but to each other. You walked beside him through cities and forests, through war-torn lands and peaceful valleys. There were no kingdoms to conquer, no battles to win—only the endless, quiet adventure of being alive, of discovering the world in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. He imagined your fingers intertwining as you both wandered, never looking back, never needing anything more than each other.
In yet another world, he was a king—ruthless and cold, but with you by his side. There was no gentleness to him in this life. His power was absolute, his rule unchallenged, but he didn’t care for conquest or wealth. It was you he wanted, standing by his side as his queen, unflinching in the face of his cruelty. And though the world trembled at his feet, he found that his greatest desire was to have you with him, always. He could see the two of you, not in the warmth of a peaceful garden, but in the cold, calculating halls of a throne room, ruling the world together, bound by power, by choice, by an unspoken understanding.
And then there were other lives—lives where tragedy claimed you both. He could picture it, your final moments, a tragedy so cruel and unexpected that it shattered the very core of his being. He would be left to linger in a world without you, haunted by the echoes of a life that could have been, one where fate had been a ruthless, heartless force. He could see it so clearly, his soul rent by the thought of losing you, and the thought stirred a deep, dark ache in his chest that would never fully heal.
There were countless other lives he could imagine—each one unique, each one pulling him in different directions. But in every single one, there you were. Not always the same, but always yours. There was no escape, no timeline where he was not tied to you, not fated to walk beside you, in whatever form that might take.
Sukuna’s chest tightened as he looked at you, your form relaxed, unaware of the maelstrom of thoughts swirling in his mind. He didn’t know how or why it was this way—why, across time and lives, you always found each other, always belonged to each other—but it was undeniable. He could feel it in the very marrow of his bones. You were his, as much as he was yours, no matter the circumstances. No matter the role he played, no matter the life or death he found himself tangled in. You were the constant, the one truth that existed no matter how many worlds he stepped into.
A small sigh escaped him, and he shifted slightly, his eyes briefly flicking toward the window. The night was peaceful, and you were there beside him, a quiet, unspoken promise of tomorrow.
In every life, in every possibility, he would always choose you. Always.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
His hand, so large and powerful, reached for you in the dark. The back of his fingers brushed gently over your hair, the softness of it catching him off guard. He would never speak of it, never voice the thoughts that clung to him in moments like these, but there was an undeniable truth in the silence between you two. His fingers lingered at the edge of your skin, the heat of his touch almost imperceptible in the stillness of the night.
And as his eyes finally closed, his mind, at last, found rest, knowing that no matter the life, no matter the world, he would always find his way back to you.