A frigid air settles in the dimly lit, barren concrete room of the basement. The walls swallow up the cries as another finger crunches and snaps. The room reeks of iron that coats the floors.

It was a common routine deep within the lower floors of Sukuna's home. A type of malevolence that he revelled in. He couldn't help the twitch in his lips as the man strapped in the chair choked on his own blood.

"Take this as a promise," Sukuna's voice was cold as ice, lethal and simmering with a calm anger. "Because the next time your son touches my nephew, I'll be taking more than just your fingers."

With a whistle from his lips, his henchmen assist with untying the ropes before dragging the limp man out of the room. He draws out a cigarette from the carton he fished from his pockets, the flame of his lighter bursting to life before taking a drag of the nicotine to ease his nerves.

He thinks back three days ago when he came home from class to Yorozu frantically running up to him the second he walked through the door. The only words he could register were 'Yuji' and 'crying' and 'got hit' and he was bolting up the stairs towards his nephew's room.

Oh, he was fully aware what a monster he is. He could've done worse if he wanted. It was only fair to beat the living shit out of that kid's dad as a lesson in exchange for bruising Yuji at the school playground.

"...did you at least land a scratch?" Sukuna asked Yuji carefully when he calmed down from sobbing.

"Y-Ye—mmph—mhm..." Yuji hiccuped in return with a nod.

"That's my boy."

Sukuna's thoughts of the memory were cut off from the ring of his phone in his back pocket. Wiping his bloodied hands on the towel that hung on the steel table with tools, he pulled it out and slid his thumb over the screen before bringing it up to his ear.

"Yeah?" He mumbled, the cig in between his lips flicking off ash as he spoke, listening to Yorozu on the other line. "Mm. Coming."

The heel of his boots thumped against the marble tiles of his home as he made his way to the foyer. He spotted the dark strands of Yorozu's messy ponytail peeking from the corner as he turned, hearing mumbled voices at the open grand door. Her body obscured the other figure just outside his home.

Hearing his quiet steps from behind her, she tilted her head back with a smile. "She saw the ad," Yorozu said, fully turning to him with a hand on her cocked hip. "She's here to speak to you about your terms and conditions."

"Mm." Sukuna hummed with a simple nod, eyes flickering at the small sliver of movement behind her.

As Yorozu stepped out of the way to excuse herself back upstairs to grab Yuji, Sukuna could only stand there with utmost mirth swirling in his eyes. There stood one of his classmates from college.

Ah, yes, he remembered her very well. She had the guts to slap him across the face one time when she came across him and his men tucked away in the empty gym with a timid and crying man on his knees covered in bruises, playing hero that day before dragging the pitied man off.

He let her off the hook for that. It wasn't everyday he could be caught completely stunned, let alone someone having the guts to lay a hand on him. He was more amused than anything. Usually women would throw themselves at his feet or cower.

Now he was looking at her standing at his door. This was definitely going to be interesting. "Come in." He said boredly with a turn of his heel as he heard the familiar soft little steps from Yuji coming down the stairs with Yorozu behind.