Chapter Text
“…Okay.”
The word came out as little more than a breath.
Your eyes refused to blink, terrified that the figure standing inside the ritual circle would disappear the moment you did.
He didn’t.
The candles surrounding the symbols burned with unnatural intensity, their flames bending inward as though drawn toward the man at the center. The apartment, once warm from the summer evening, had become unbearably cold. Every sound beyond your walls—the distant traffic, your neighbor’s television, even the rain tapping softly against the windows—had vanished into an oppressive silence.
You stared.
Four crimson eyes.
Black markings winding over pale skin.
An overwhelming presence that made every instinct in your body scream the same command.
Run.
Instead, your feet remained planted where they were.
“No…”
You laughed weakly, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale than amusement.
“No, this… this isn’t funny anymore.”
Only an hour ago, this had been nothing more than curiosity. A late-night rabbit hole had led you to a dusty online archive containing scans of an ancient manuscript. Buried beneath pages of untranslated text was a ritual described as The Guardian’s Covenant—a contract said to summon a protector who would remain beside the caller until the end of their natural life.
The comments beneath it had been exactly what you’d expected.
“Nothing happened.”
“Fake.”
“Don’t waste your candles.”
You should have stopped there. Instead, boredom had gotten the better of you. You copied every symbol exactly as it appeared. Measured the circle three separate times. Lit every candle. Recited every line despite barely understanding the pronunciation.
You had expected the lights to flicker.
Maybe a dramatic gust of wind if you were lucky.
Not…
This.
The figure standing before you slowly opened all four eyes. The pressure that flooded the room hit you so suddenly your knees nearly buckled.
Your chest tightened.
Breathing became difficult.
You stumbled backward, your heel catching against the edge of the coffee table before your balance disappeared entirely. You crashed onto the hardwood floor with a sharp gasp, one hand instinctively reaching behind you while the other remained braced against the ground.
Your heart pounded so violently it hurt.
The man inside the circle looked down at you.
No…
Not a man.
Something far older.
Far worse.
He examined you without speaking, his expression unreadable, as though trying to determine whether you were worth acknowledging.
Finally, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“So.”
His voice was deep enough to make the floorboards seem to vibrate beneath you.
“You’re the one who dragged me here.”
You swallowed.
“I…”
Nothing came out.
He glanced around the apartment with obvious disappointment.
Tiny walls.
Cheap furniture.
A glowing television still paused on the tutorial you’d been following and a half-finished cup of instant ramen sitting forgotten on the counter.
“…Pathetic.”
Without another word, he stepped forward.
The moment his foot crossed the ritual circle—
The symbols erupted.
Red light exploded across the floor, racing through every line of ink faster than lightning. Strange characters neither of you had noticed before surfaced beneath the original markings, spreading outward until they covered the entire apartment.
Sukuna stopped.
For the first time since appearing…
His smile disappeared.
The light wrapped around his neck.
Then yours.
Thin crimson threads emerged from the glowing symbols, twisting together before snapping tight between the two of you.
An invisible force surged through the room.
You cried out as something searing branded itself across the inside of your wrist. Across from you, Sukuna’s expression darkened.
“…What.”
It wasn’t confusion.
It was irritation.
Pure, immediate irritation.
Ancient words echoed through the apartment, spoken by no visible voice.
“The Guardian’s Covenant has been accepted.”
“Until the contractor’s natural death…”
The crimson threads tightened.
”…the Guardian shall remain.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed.
“…Guardian?”
The voice continued without pause.
“The Guardian shall preserve the contractor’s life from external harm.”
“The Guardian may not intentionally kill the contractor.”
“The Guardian may not abandon the contractor.”
“Distance shall not exceed the Covenant’s reach.”
Every sentence made the room feel colder.
Your stomach sank.
“…Wait.”
You stared at the glowing thread connecting your wrist to his.
“No, no, no—I didn’t—”
The final words echoed through the apartment.
“The contract is absolute.”
Silence.
The light vanished.
The candles went out all at once.
For several long seconds, neither of you moved.
Then—
A sharp crack split the room.
Sukuna looked down as the floor beneath his feet fractured under the pressure of his cursed energy.
“…How amusing.”
His voice was frighteningly calm.
Very slowly, he lifted his wrist, studying the crimson mark burned into his skin.
His smile returned.
He wasn’t amused anymore.
It was the smile of someone moments away from tearing the world apart.
“You…”
Four crimson eyes settled on you.
“…bound me.”
Every instinct screamed at you to apologize and to run.
Instead, you could only stare as he walked toward you with measured, deliberate steps.
He stopped directly in front of where you sat frozen on the floor.
For a moment, you thought he was going to kill you anyway.
Instead, he crouched.
His hand closed around your throat—not tightly enough to crush it, but just enough to remind you how effortlessly he could.
His thumb rested against your pulse.
“You’ve managed something no sorcerer in a thousand years has accomplished.”
“And now…”
A humorless laugh escaped him.
“…I’m expected to play your watchdog.”
His eyes flicked toward the glowing mark on your wrist.
Then back to your terrified face.
“…You’re going to regret surviving this ritual far more than if it had simply killed you.”
His grip tightened and you choked on your own spit, a sharp cough tearing from your throat. Your eyes watered instinctively, blurring the sharp outline of his face while the silence between each cough felt unbearably loud.
Finally, he released his grip. And you fell to the hard wooden floor gasping for air.
“How pathetic.”
He scoffed.
You stood up at exactly where you were before, though every instinct urged you to put as much distance between yourself and him as possible. Your legs still felt unsteady beneath you, and your thoughts refused to settle into anything coherent.
“What… should we do… now?”
For a heartbeat, he said nothing.
Then one corner of his mouth twitched.
“…We?”
The word rolled off his tongue as though it were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
It grew louder.
And louder.
Within seconds, he was laughing openly.
Deep, genuine laughter echoed through the messy apartment, filling the silence so completely that you simply stood there, frozen, unsure whether you should feel offended or terrified.
He lifted a hand to his face, wiping beneath one of his eyes as though brushing away tears that weren’t actually there.
“We?”
Another laugh escaped him.
“Who exactly is ‘we?’”
His crimson eyes settled on you, gleaming with cruel amusement.
“You summon the King of Curses.”
“You chain him with an ancient covenant.”
“And now you think we’ve become traveling companions?”
He clicked his tongue.
“You humans truly are fascinating.”
There was no compliment in his voice.
“Generation after generation, your species somehow manages to become even more idiotic than the last.”
He took a slow step toward you.
Heat crept into your face. You weren’t sure whether you felt embarrassed or irritated anymore.
“I didn’t even mean to summon you.”
“I know.”
His answer came so quickly it almost startled you.
“Which only makes it more pathetic.”
You frowned, instinctively crossing your arms despite knowing how futile it was to look defensive in front of someone like him. “Can you stop calling me stupid for five minutes?”
“No.”
“…Seriously?”
“No.”
You let out an exhausted sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
The conversation lapsed into silence once again, though this time Sukuna’s expression slowly lost every trace of amusement. His smile faded until nothing remained but a calm, unreadable stare. He looked toward the broken windows, the scattered furniture, the ritual circle that had already begun fading into the floorboards, then finally back to the crimson mark connecting his fate to yours. Unlike before, there was no anger in his eyes—only careful consideration.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before.
“I’ve reached a conclusion.”
You looked up almost immediately.
“…About?”
“You.”
That single word made your shoulders tense.
“The covenant demands I preserve your life.” He spoke as though reciting an inconvenient fact rather than something he’d willingly accepted. “Whether I like it or not, your continued existence has become my responsibility.”
You blinked. “…So… you are protecting me.”
He looked almost offended.
“Do not mistake obligation for compassion.”
His gaze sharpened ever so slightly.
“If you throw yourself into danger through your own incompetence, I am the one forced to deal with the consequences. If you make reckless decisions, I am expected to correct them. Every foolish mistake you make now becomes my inconvenience.” A faint scoff escaped him as he folded his arms across his chest. “I have no intention of wasting however many years this covenant binds me to dragging an idiotic human away from death every other day.”
“…Hey.”
“You object?”
“I object to the ‘idiotic human’ part.”
“You’ll survive.”
You muttered something under your breath that wisely never became loud enough for him to hear. Sukuna ignored it regardless.
“So we’ll establish one rule.”
His tone left no room for negotiation.
“Whenever I determine that your safety is at risk, you will obey every order I give you.”
You stared at him.
“…Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“No.”
The refusal left your mouth before you had time to think.
His eyebrow rose ever so slightly.
“No?”
“I’m not agreeing to become your servant.”
“You overestimate your importance.”
His voice remained maddeningly calm. “I have no interest in commanding your insignificant little life. Wear whatever ridiculous clothing humans favor in this era. Waste your time with your meaningless routines. Speak to whoever you please. None of it concerns me.”
“Then why should I listen to you?”
“Because your judgment is unreliable.”
He took a slow step toward you, stopping just close enough that you had to tilt your head upward to meet his gaze. There was no aggression in the movement, no attempt to intimidate you through force alone. He simply stood there with the quiet confidence of someone who had never once questioned whether the world would bend to his will.
“You’ve already demonstrated exactly how poor your decision-making is.”
“I made one mistake.”
“You summoned me.”
“…One very big mistake.”
“Precisely.”
A long silence stretched between the two of you before Sukuna continued.
“The covenant does not merely force me to keep you alive. It punishes me whenever I fail to do so.” His eyes briefly flickered toward the crimson mark on his wrist. “Therefore, I refuse to allow your impulsiveness to become my burden.”
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle before delivering them with quiet finality.
“So understand this carefully. The moment I give you an order concerning your survival, you obey immediately. You do not argue. You do not hesitate. You do not ask why. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to stay where you are, you stay. If I tell you to leave, you leave. Whether you understand my reasoning is irrelevant.”
You remained silent for several seconds, trying to process everything he had just said. The demand itself was outrageous, but… there was an uncomfortable logic behind it. If the covenant truly punished him for failing to protect you, then every dangerous decision you made became something he would inevitably have to fix.
“…I have a condition.”
Sukuna regarded you with mild curiosity, as though humoring a child.
“Speak.”
“You don’t get to use that as an excuse to control everything I do.” You straightened your posture despite the lingering knot in your stomach, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “If it’s genuinely about keeping me alive, fine. I’ll listen. But you’re not deciding where I go, who I talk to, what I eat, or how I live just because you feel like it. If it has nothing to do with my safety, then you don’t get a say.”
The room grew quiet once more.
Sukuna studied you without speaking, his expression impossible to read. For a brief moment you wondered whether you’d pushed your luck too far. Then, to your surprise, the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest hint of a smile.
“…No.”
You blinked.
“…What?!”
“Your life is my concern now, as much as I hate doing so.” He dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “I couldn’t spare any possibilities of disobedience, and I don’t give a damn whether you like it or not.”
His smile sharpened ever so slightly.
“Although if you ended up amusing me…” His crimson eyes locked onto yours with enough intensity to make the air feel heavier around you. “…I might change my mind.”
A chill crept down your spine.
After several long seconds, you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and gave a reluctant nod.
“…Fine.”
The grin that spread across Sukuna’s face was small.
Victorious.
“I knew you’d make the correct decision.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“No.”
His quiet chuckle echoed through the apartment.
“You never did.”