Chapter Text
.
Fushiguro remembers the first time he saw it – and thinks he must have been imagining things.
They were in the heat of battle, it was raining, it was dark, and not to mention he was standing face-to-face to the Ryoumen Sukuna, King of Curses, stuff of legends… so one could forgive him if he was mistaken in what he saw.
‘I’m in a great mood right now…
… it’s only a matter of time.’
Then Sukuna ripped off his shirt and Fushiguro was all at once accosted with a vision of bare well-tanned flesh, extraordinary black markings, and stretches of well-defined muscles that somehow always seems bigger and more intimidating when it is Sukuna wearing Itadori’s skin – and that was when Fushiguro saw it.
Sukuna winked.
The goddamn curse tore off his shirt, opened his eyes, looked up straight at Fushiguro with that self-assured smirk and winked.
It only lasted a split second, and then Sukuna was tearing out Itadori’s heart and beating the living daylights out of Fushiguro across the detention centre. He doesn’t remember much of what happened after that – the only striking image remaining being of Itadori with a hole in his chest falling to the floor in front of him. So, thinking back, Fushiguro thinks he must have imagined it.
That is, until today.
It’s been a few months since Itadori came back to life in that anti-climactic reveal planned by Gojou-sensei. They are just having lunch like any other day, him and Kugisaki and Itadori, nipping out to their favourite ramen place. Kugisaki and Itadori are bickering on who is the better-looking Hollywood star –
“Have you even seen Mean Girls? She was AMAZING in that! And don’t get me started on the Notebook!”
“Yeah, but Jennifer Lawrence is clearly superior! She’s super tall too!”
“Being tall doesn’t automatically make someone better,” Kugisaki rolls her eyes, “Gah, Itadori, you seriously have such poor taste in these things.”
“Oi!” Itadori slams his hands on the table, “Don’t insult Miss Lawrence like that! My taste is just fine! Even Toudou-senpai agrees!”
“As if Toudou-senpai has any clue about taste!”
“Would you two quiet down,” Fushiguro sighs, “Everyone is looking at-”
Fushiguro stops.
On the back of Itadori’s left hand planted on the table, an eyeball and a mouth has appeared.
The single red pupil scans left and right, before stopping to lock on to Fushiguro’s face. Slowly, its mouth splits into a wide, teeth-bearing grin across the expanse of Itadori’s hand.
Then, it winks at him.
Fushiguro isn’t sure how he knows, because there’s only the one eye there, but that is undeniably, most certainly, a wink.
And just like that, it’s gone.
“Hm? What is it, Fushiguro?” Kugisaki peers at him.
“…Did you see that?” Fushiguro gingerly pokes at Itadori’s hand with a chopstick, like he’s worried it might grow legs and run off the table. “It was right there.”
“Huh?” Itadori, who had already gone back to devouring his ramen, looks up with wide eyes. “What? I felt something on my hand but thought it was just a bug. What was it?”
Fushiguro frowns. “I think that was Sukuna.”
“Eh? Really??” Itadori stares at his hand, turning it back and forth. “Usually he only does that to say something. Did he do anything?”
“Uh-” Fushiguro blinks. He might have winked at me. “Nothing really.”
“So he just popped up to have a look around and then went away?” Kugisaki scrunches her nose. “Weird.”
“Yeah, that is kinda odd. Hmm…” Itadori holds his chin in thought. “Maybe he just wanted to see what a ramen shop looked like? Like, the modern atmosphere?”
That’s definitely not it. Fushiguro thinks.
“Of course not, you idiot, why would he wanna do that?” Kugisaki bonks Itadori on the head. “You think the King of Curses just sits around waiting to pop up for some good ol’ sight-seeing?”
“Who knows? It’s not like he’s got anything better to do right now!” Itadori throws up his hands.
“Eh. Guess it would get kinda boring watching you dumb boys all day long. Sukuna should feel lucky there’s me here adding some flavour to your dull, dull lives.” Kugisaki giggles, flicking her hair over her shoulder in that Tokyo-esque manner she often does.
“Yes, yes, and we are forever grateful, Kugisaki-sama,” Fushiguro says, deadpan.
Kugisaki pats his back, “That’s the spirit, Fushiguro!”
Itadori pulls a face, “Geh- Fushiguro, don’t encourage her.”
They walk back to the dorms after, the matter of the brief mini-Sukuna appearance all but forgotten. Except, Fushiguro can’t stop glancing over at Itadori and the little indents under his eyes like he expects them to blink open at any second. But they don’t. Of course they don’t. Fushiguro doesn’t even know why he expects them to. That wink, at best, was probably a blink and Fushiguro is reading too much into it – and at worst, it was most likely just Sukuna being bored out of his mind and messing around. A harmless taunt at Fushiguro to remind him of his complete and utter defeat back then in the rain.
Fushiguro shakes his head. It’s nothing. It won’t happen again.
.
It happens again.
Not once, not twice, but fifteen times.
Fushiguro has, by now, given up on the prospect that this could at all be a coincidence, or that it is his imagination making him see things that may not be. Instead, he has solemnly concluded that Ryoumen Sukuna – double-faced spectre, special grade vengeful spirit, King of Curses – is undoubtedly, most definitely, fucking with him.
By winking, ridiculously enough, at seemingly random opportunities. It doesn’t matter if they are casually watching a movie or mid-way through a mission to exorcise a cursed spirit; all it takes is for Itadori to be positioned in Fushiguro’s line of vision, and Sukuna could choose to appear at any inconvenient moment. Like when Itadori handed him a bowl of popcorn and Sukuna just appeared on his palm right under the bowl, making Fushiguro jump and spill a bowl-full of popcorn all over himself. Or that time when Fushiguro was bending over to tie his shoelaces and Itadori’s foot, wearing flip-flops right next to him, suddenly developed an eyeball and winked at him, startling Fushiguro into falling on his butt. (Itadori tried not to laugh, he really did.)
Once, Sukuna popped up on the back of Itadori’s neck to wink at Fushiguro just as he was about to strike at a curse with a blade, and it was so damn jarring that Fushiguro lost his footing and almost cut Itadori instead, narrowly avoiding his ear by mere centimetres.
And Fushiguro could swear that small grin spreads even wider every time it succeeds in making a fool out of him.
The frustrating thing is there’s not really anything Fushiguro could do about it. There is nothing to do. Excluding that one occasion where Fushiguro almost accidentally cut off his best friend’s ear, Sukuna’s little winking antics have caused no real harm to anyone apart from being a massive nuisance to Fushiguro. And that’s just it – he is only doing it to Fushiguro, and no one else. In fact, Sukuna seems to specifically prefer not to do it in the company of anyone else; Itadori being the exception, of course, but even then Sukuna seems to deliberately choose to appear in areas of his body where Itadori wouldn’t notice until Fushiguro reacts to it.
It is almost as if Sukuna wants it to be a direct, personal taunt to Fushiguro and Fushiguro alone.
But why? Fushiguro doesn’t get it. If Sukuna’s sole purpose of doing this is to aggravate him then he has thoroughly succeeded, but that still doesn’t really explain why he would target Fushiguro in the first place. Is Sukuna simply just that bored and Fushiguro is the easiest target? He is the one who spends the most time with Itadori after all.
“I think he might be, you know, just observing,” Itadori says, wringing his jacket and splattering gushes of dark, foul-smelling blood into the stream.
They have just completed a simple two-person exorcism mission of a Grade 2 curse – a large larvae-type monstrosity that has been residing in an abandoned temple. It was easy enough to deal with and it was all going well and dandy, until Itadori landed a killing blow right into the beast’s bloated abdomen, causing it to burst open in a rather spectacular explosive display of blood and guts. Fushiguro is usually pretty stoic with gore and the like, but getting showered by bits of rotting colon is an experience he very much would not like to repeat.
“I can’t believe you still think he’s sight-seeing – I mean, this is Sukuna we’re talking about,” Fushiguro says, trying to wet his fingers in the water to help untangle the strands of his hair matted with dried blood. God, he smelled awful. “He’s definitely just messing with me.”
“Not the sight-seeing tourist theory!” Itadori grimaces, which likely has more to do with the piece of pancreas he’s just found in his pocket than their conversation. “I meant he might be observing you. Since he’s always just popping out when you’re around. Like yeah, he kinda picks the worst timing to do it, but he’s an ass like that anyways.”
An ‘ass’ is a bit of an understatement for the worst being that ever walked this Earth. Fushiguro frowns, “Observe me? Why?”
He hasn’t told Itadori – hasn’t told anyone – about the winking yet. It just seems so stupid to mention that detail, when it’s just the one eye that ever appears and Sukuna may well just be blinking for all Fushiguro knows. He can’t even pin down himself why he’s convinced it’s a wink – he just knows that it is. Something to do with that damned smirk.
“Dunno,” Itadori says. “Maybe ‘cus you’re strong? You’ve fought him before right?”
“Yeah and he beat the shit out of me,” Fushiguro scoffs.
“But Gojou-sensei says you’re strong, so that’s got to be something,” Itadori hums. “Are you sure you don’t wanna tell sensei about this, by the way?”
“No, definitely not.” Fushiguro says immediately. He can already tell what Gojou will think – especially if he knows about the supposed winking that has been going on. He will find it hilarious and will no doubt find ways to be insufferable about it and just make the entire situation more irritating than it already is.
“Alright. It’s fine by me as long as he’s not hurting anyone.” Itadori says, and it’s that simple with him. Fushiguro has always found Itadori’s straight-forwardness refreshing like that. “Anyways, I’m gonna take a dip. You should too. We won’t ever hear the end of it from Kugisaki if we get back smelling like this.”
Fushiguro winces, “Yeah, I wouldn’t blame her. This shit’s disgusting. Next time, maybe try not to explode a giant sack of organs all over us?”
“Oh, come on! I was only trying to be helpful. Who’d think it would go BOOM like that…”
They strip off in the stream, trying to rinse away as much of the blood and guts as they can. Fushiguro dunks his head in the water, relishing in the feel of the water washing away the filth – his white shirt is soaked through, translucent and clinging to him, and Fushiguro pulls that off too, the cool air for once a welcome change on his skin. He sighs, tilting his head back, eyes closed and carding his fingers through his hair.
“Ah, Fushiguro! Do you have a change of clothes by the way?” Itadori is saying, “I kinda… um, didn’t think of that before we jumped in.”
“Heh, yeah, didn’t think you’d be that prepared. I’ve got some spare shirts in my bag,” Fushiguro peaks open an eye, “It’s just over- there…”
Fushiguro trails off.
Itadori has got his bare back to him, stretching his arms, and there it was again, right there on his shoulder blade – that single red eye atop an ever-present fang-showing sneer.
Sukuna.
Except, this time, he doesn’t wink.
Instead, he-
Fushiguro stares.
…is he leering at me?!
Fushiguro doesn’t know how else to describe the way Sukuna’s eye slowly roams his body from top to toe and back up again, the red of them blaring crimson in their intensity, like they’re eating up every single inch of Fushiguro’s flesh. Bizarrely, Fushiguro can almost feel Sukuna’s gaze on his skin, like a sharp fingernail trailing slow and sensual down his torso, leaving hot-and-cold chills in its wake. It makes Fushiguro suddenly, starkly conscious of how exposed he is, water drip-dripping from his hair onto his pale neck and chest, and Fushiguro feels a strange urge to cover himself up.
Then, as if Sukuna hasn’t tormented him enough, the curse’s mouth gapes open to reveal a long pointed tongue and – whilst never once taking his eye off of Fushiguro – licks his lips slowly, languidly, appreciatively in Fushiguro’s direction in a way that can only be described as lascivious.
Fushiguro’s breath catches in his throat.
Unable to stand the vulgar ogling a second longer, Fushiguro digs his hand into the stream and splashes at Sukuna right in his lecherous gaping mouth.
“Oi! What the hell, Fushiguro?!” Itadori yells loudly, turning around, not expecting the sudden attack of cold water.
Fushiguro doesn’t reply, only goes straight over to grab Itadori, turn him, and glare at his shoulder blade – surely enough, there is only Itadori’s skin there. Sukuna is gone.
“Shit,” Fushiguro swears lowly under his breath, letting go of his friend.
“Huh?” Itadori is looking at him with wide eyes, “Fushiguro, what?”
“Sukuna,” Fushiguro says through gritted teeth.
“Oh!” Itadori instantly lifts his hands up, flipping them back and front. “Where?! I didn’t even see-”
“You called?”
The deep rasp of his voice is so distinctive that it cannot be missed – and Sukuna, for the first time in a long time, has opened up an eye and a mouth on Itadori’s face.
And he is looking straight at Fushiguro.
“Wha- Sukuna?!” Itadori tries to look sideways to see which side of his face Sukuna was speaking from. It’s been a while since Sukuna has spoken – all the times he has been popping up for Fushiguro he has always been silent.
Sukuna remains silent now, paying Itadori no mind, single crimson orb pin-pointing on Fushiguro with the same intensity it had moments ago. Sukuna’s lips stretches in a grin wider than Fushiguro has ever seen before, like he couldn’t be more pleased to have obtained the exact reaction and attention that he wanted from Fushiguro.
Then – almost predictably, and at the same time unbelievably – the damn curse gives him that aggravating bloody wink, and disappears.
“Huh? Oh- he’s gone?” Itadori, confused, rubs at his cheek where the indent under his eye has sealed shut again. “Man, it always feels so weird when he does that. Did he just come out two times in a row just now?”
“Yeah, he did,” Fushiguro says, grinding his teeth.
“Gah. I wish I knew a way to stop him from doing that,” Itadori frowns. “Sorry, Fushiguro. I know he’s been particularly annoying lately.”
“It’s not your fault,” Fushiguro shakes his head. “Like I said, he’s just messing with me.”
And Sukuna has been, from the start, ever since that very first wink in the rain. All these appearances, the way Sukuna tries to make him jump and trip over himself, and every time he taunts Fushiguro with that stupid wink… it’s something so small, so insignificant, and yet it gets on Fushiguro’s nerves like nothing else. It is almost childish the way Sukuna is going about this, like he’s teasing him, like a little boy tugging on a girl’s pigtails when they don’t know how to-
Fushiguro stops dead in his tracks.
No. That’s not it. Sukuna is just- fucking with him. Those winks, they are nothing more than a mockery, a jab at Fushiguro’s pride, a reminder of his pathetic loss at Sukuna’s mercy. Even when Sukuna licked his lips at him just now-
-no matter the salacious way he did it, the way he was practically devouring Fushiguro with his blood red gaze…
Fushiguro swallows.
No. Sukuna is fucking with him. He must be.
Because if he is not- then the only alternative is that Sukuna is flirting with him, and Fushiguro Megumi has no idea what to do with that.
.