The sound of humming stirs you from what must have been the greatest nap in your life. You're stretched out on your stomach with your arms folded beneath your head. Oh, my god...I haven't been able to sleep like this for years, you think in disbelief. Again you hear the humming, and what sounded like water splashing. A shower sounded wonderful to you, so you swing your legs out of bed, not even bothering to cover up. After the night you had together, you no longer felt the need to be shy about your body around Sukuna. He had spent hours worshipping every part of you. His strong yet gentle touch and his burning kisses had soothed you to a nearly enlightened state. You were seeking him out for the biggest "good morning" you could greet him with, when the source of the splashing sounds finally comes into view. Nothing could have prepared you for your lover's current state.

"AAHHH!" you cry out in horror.

Ryomen had been sitting with his back to you, but turned, startled by your shriek. He is sitting waist deep in what looked like the most enormous in-ground bathtub you had ever seen. Oh, also it also appeared that there was no water here. He was relaxing in a stomach churning amount of steaming blood up to his chest.

"Good morning, my shrill little songbird," he sings out to you with a warm smile.

No doubt he is growing accustomed to the sound of your screams by now. He raises a sake cup in a toast to you, and you are able to see that he is drinking the blood as well. Your face was pale and you are scarcely able to muster more than an awkward wave, choking on whimpers of shock. You never did like surprises first thing in the morning. You wondered if you even had the ability to throw up in this realm.

"Oh, does this put you off? I can always wait until you leave."

He sets down his sake cup with an almost sheepish grin. He had made the offer sound so casual, like someone waiting to smoke a cigarette. He rose up from his bath and stepped out onto the carpet. Blood ran in thick rivulets down his muscular legs, pooling beneath his feet. You now know why he chooses to have red flooring. You inhale deeply, trying to steady your nerves once more.

"Umm...good morning! Uh, it is morning right? There's no way to tell without the sun here."

Ryomen gestured hopelessly with a sweeping gesture at the "ceiling" of neverending pitch black. It was nauseatingly deep, like staring into the chasm of an ocean trench or a black hole. Both ideas conveniently terrified you.

"Who knows? It's still night in your world if that's when you came. I can promise you that." He added the last part with almost a touch of bitterness in his voice.

"Wow...I slept for hours, I'm certain." You're in disbelief. Then another thought crosses your mind.

"Ryomen, how long has it been since I first came here? I know it's only been a couple of weeks in my time...but here, I mean. For you?"

"It's cute how you call me by my first name already," he was ignoring your question.
"Are we that close?"

Your eyes looked down in sudden embarassment. It hadn't occurred to you, but you have been addressing him casually...Which could only mean you were getting used to him. Is this a good thing? It would behoove you to be on his good side rather than his bad, right? Then you remember he avoided your question,

"You didn't answer me."

He crosses his arms over his bare chest, all eyes on you, and his chin dipped in contemplation.

"I dont know how much of your time has passed," he admits finally. "There is no mark of time here in the void. The only changes that come are what I create or destroy."

In a demonstration, he holds out his hand. His second mouth splits open with a smirk, then made a choking noise, spitting out an enormous, uncut diamond the size of an apple. He offers it to you. Your mouth hangs open, enraptured by the sheer size and clarity of the gem. Then, as quickly as he had formed it, he squeezed it between his fingers with so much force that it exploded in a glittering mist of shards.

You exhale sharply, shocked at what only two of his fingers could do. He reaches out again, this time to brush your hair from your eyes. You don't pull back.

"Except for you. Your clothes are different each time I see you, and of course there's your moods, and the way your hair falls. I can see time is passing when I look at you."

A wave of sadness rolls through your chest. He really was stuck in an eternity of nothingness. You had suffered your fair share of spinning your wheels going nowhere metaphorically in dead-end jobs, relationships with family members and friends...with romantic partners. You knew the feeling of seemingly reliving the same day again and again, even though there were changes to each day.

"You'll be able to leave soon though... When I sign the contract. Right?"

"Soon enough. Time may not pass while you're here, but I do hate to see you leave."

"I should go though," you say, but feel one of his hands slip around the small of your back.

"Not yet...stay just a little longer?"

He buries his face into your neck. There's no warning before his teeth find your skin. Your knees weaken, and his hands are already working their magic, pulling you against his firm body in a slow suggestive rhythm. Your vision swims when you feel his hips push into yours in small, strong thrusts. You can't help but sigh in ecstasy as he lifts you off the ground. Your legs wrap securely around his waist as he carries you back to bed.

His mouth is warm on your chest, nipping and biting all the way down your stomach. Your legs slip easily over his shoulders as he sinks down onto his knees at the bedside. He loves using his mouths on you, making you writhe and cry out his name over and over.

Your mind is a whirlwind when he finally rises to take his position over you. You taste yourself on his lips as he presses into you with deliberate slowness. A whine builds in your chest. He loves making you do all of the first movements, showing him how badly you crave him inside you with your eager hips rising to meet his before he gives you any more.

"Beg for it," he teases you, his tongue circling behind your ear.
"Tell me what you desire."

The air slams from your lungs as the tip of his head stretches you open, but he doesnt move any further. Achingly, you raise your hips to take more of him, but he resists, sliding back to prevent giving you any more.

You smirk, wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in closely,

"Fuck you. I'm not begging." You hold onto him with all of your strength, throwing both legs around him once more. This time he can't pull back, and there is a look of shock in his eyes when you sheath him fully inside you.
His moans of surprise fill you with satisfaction, especially when you bite into his shoulder.
His voice vibrates against your chest when he mumbles, "Little brat," then pops your ass with an open palm. He is still holding you in midair, his hips now meeting your movements. His grip on your ass tightens.

"You're gonna get it now..." he threatens. You feel the sting of his second mouth biting from inside of his grip. Your surprised yelp forces you to release your teeth from his skin. He flings you easily but not roughly to the futon.

His growls mingle with the squeals of your laughter.

.

.

It's alot longer before you are finally able to peel yourself away and return. This time kissing him fully on his mouth before allowing him to transport you back.

Just as he had said, it was indeed still night time when you returned. You stood alone in your living room, astounded that all of that time spent in Ryomen's domain seemed as if only a few minutes had passed since you left.

When you sink gratefully into your bed with already more rest than you've had in years, your mind is busied with decisions being made.

.

.

"One day," you say to yourself, as you're getting dressed for yet another shift of work, "I will be rich enough to never work again." You fantasize about using all of your spare time lounging with a good book and a drink in your hand. For the time being, you were clo-pening. Someone had called in sick, leaving you to pick up the morning on top of your next shift close. You were not looking forward to looking your night manager in the eye after last night. You were still furious at his carelessness for your safety.

On top of that, your partner had said NOTHING about forgetting to pick you up last night. Well, not nothing, just not an apology.

"How'd you end up making it home last night?"

That's what they asked you, and nothing else. For some reason you kept to yourself what had happened with the threatening customer stalking you. Maybe it was because you had enough time to cool down and "de-stress." Nothing was more relaxing than multiple orgasms after all.

You couldnt help the secret smile on your face whenever your mind wandered back to replay your night over and over in your mind. It was the only thing carrying you through your day and helping you actually be in a good mood despite working the double shift. Maybe your night manager also calling in sick with food poisoning added to that though. Served him right, you thought triumphantly.

You were just about ready to turn the OPEN sign over to CLOSED when you heard someone call to you. You were prepared for trouble tonight however, and gave the door a firm yank in a fuck you, we are not serving you motion. The poor would-be customer reached forward, much to your dismay, slipping the barest tip of their finger in. It was too late to stop your initial movements, and you watched in horror as the door slams shut on them.

"YeeOW!"

Begrudgingly, you prop the door wide enough to step through and check their hand.

"I'm so, so sorry! Are you alright?" It doesnt look broken, but his finger is now swelling and red.

"Yeesh, I suppose that's what I get for not getting here earlier." He sounded more amused than upset.

He was dressed in all black, probably why you hadn't noticed him in the dark at first. Only his hair was completely white, and you saw he wore what looked like a black cloth over his eyes. Oh, God. Was he blind?! Had you hurt a blind man? This only made you feel worse.

"No, I'm sorry. It's my fault," you insist. "We've just had a few...unsavory characters around closing time lately. I thought you were him."

He began to laugh rather than chew you out, much to your relief.

"Ha! Well if I were him, I'd be thinking twice about bothering you again."

You blushed intensely. Was he flirting with you?

"My name is Satoru Gojo by the way," he bowed politely, and you responded with your own introduction. Then adding,

"I'm sorry, we are closed though."

"Well, you see, funny thing is I didn't come here for dinner-"

"The bar is closed too," you pipe in, desperate not to wait on another person.

"Ah, yes. What I mean is, I am here to see you."

Your heart flips a bit. This guy is fairly good looking, even with part of his face covered...but he unsettled you now.

"What do you want with me?" You ask, knowing you probably won't like the answer.

He scratches his face casually, no, he looks ...embarrassed?

"I'm very sorry to say this, but I'm afraid you may possibly have something of mine..."

"What? I have no idea who you are. How can I have something of yours?" A very heavy feeling was settling in the pit of your gut now.

You watch as he pulls down his mask around his neck, revealing his crystalline blue eyes. Oh no, you panic internally, he's hot!

"I believe you may have received an odd little wooden box recently?"

Your face immediately masks with what you hope is indifference. Inside you is a swirl of anxiety that will surely bring your lunch up whenever you get a moment of privacy to yourself next.

"A box? Huh, I don't think I did..."

Why were you lying to him? He obviously knows you have it, somehow. But how does he know this? You immediately realize you need to have your guard up around him.

"It's a small thing," he signs with both hands, creating a rectangle with his thumbs and forefingers... In the exact shape and size of Sukuna's box.

"It's solid wood too, no hinges."

He smiles, but you sense that he is testing you with his choice of words. Anyone else would ask what's so special about a box you cant open. So,

"What's so special about a box you can't open?" you ask.

"Oh, just a little family heirloom. Not worth anything to a stranger. I misplaced it by accident."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to piece something together that may satisfy this piercing stranger. For some reason, the thought of losing that box,... losing your connection to Sukuna...
Why did this give you such pause? This man could be a way out of your contract...if you wanted out...
HOLD ON, when did it become 'if?'
There was an actual demon teleporting you to his dimensional prison by way of an ancient box, and coercing you into leasing your body to him to return to the living world. And now this ancient box could suddenly become someone else's problem. Maybe it already was his problem before you received it. But that word 'problem' didn't exactly fit how you were beginning to feel about Ryomen...

It's cute how you call me by my first name now...Are we close?

You realize you are weighing your freedom against your fascination with him. Your growing fondness and trust.

"Sorry, I guess it's not something I remember. If it's really as useless as you say, maybe I tossed it without thinking."

Your expression is much calmer than you feel, but you refuse to show that. Satoru Gojo's smile changes in the smallest way, you're almost not sure you saw him the twitch at the corner of his mouth. His eyes now are staring at you in a much more concerned way, drilling into you.

Liar.

"Well, I must have been mistaken then. I'd better be on my way now." His words should have filled you with relief. They didn't.

He re-covered his mask, and turned on his heel. Not looking back or even saying goodbye. You finish the rest of your closing duties in silence, your jaw tightly clenched. You had a feeling that you would definitely be seeing Sagoru Gojo again.

.

.

It was day seven. Night seven, rather. And you had the house to yourself luckily. For once, you were grateful that your partner had decided to go out drinking with their friends. Normally it irritates you when they're gone for hours with no calls or text to tell you when they'll be returning. Tonight you were counting on it. You had been making preparations for hours. You had covered your windows with heavy blankets to make it darker, then lit several candles, creating a soft glow to your room.

You checked your reflection in your mirror one last time, making sure the bow of your obi was straight and not lop-sided again. It was incredibly difficult to properly dress yourself in a kimono without assistance. Luckily a few gracious Youtubers had enough instructional videos for you to manage what eventually came out to a very elegant finished look, after retying the damn obi about a dozen times. You looked so beautiful in Ryomen's gift. The length of the silk on your body was perfectly tailored to fit you.

You bring out the scroll of your contract with Ryomen for the first time, breaking the wax seal. You're unsure of what to expect, but aren't surprised when you see that the letters are unintelligible. You had assumed he would do something like this. Demons were not expected to be straightforward, and there was probably more written here than you remember establishing. You carefully try to recall every rule that was set:

No killing.

You would help him collect his severed fingers.

You would come when he calls.

At the word "Subsisto," he must cease whatever he is doing.

There was alot more writing on the paper than you felt was necessary. What else could he have possibly written? You knew better than to agree to anything you didnt understand. You knew that you shouldnt fully trust Sukuna to keep any promises he had made.

Then the thought of that man who had asked about the box cycled through your mind again. Who was he? Why did he want the box so badly? Obviously he must know what was inside.

A finger.

But why did people want it? Ryomen had told you that some people used them for power, but you didn't understand how. Did having it in your possession mean that you had more power? It didn't feel like it. You still felt the same as you did before meeting him. Physically drained, overworked and anxious. Except lately you hadn't been feeling as alone as you usually did.

You had set the wooden box in question on the desk in your room. You pick up a pen, and check your clock, 11:45. Each passing minute was making your heart race. You had gotten dressed up, in preparations to sign the document and invite Sukuna into your body, but the doubts planted by your judgement and that blue eyed stranger from the other night were now at a boiling point.
Your vision was swimming. Was the obi too tight around your waist? Everything felt so hot suddenly. You fan yourself with the contract absently, asking yourself for the last time if this was really what you wanted...

The minutes ticked by.
11:47
What if that stranger comes back for the box?
11:53
What if you lose your freedom forever to Ryomen?
11:56
What if everything could just be like before?
11:59

There is a click as you remove the cap of a pen, holding your breath as you scratch your signature at the bottom of the paper.

Then the flames of every candle are suddenly blown out.