Play Hell With ✔ // MEGUMI X SUKUNA

[ 14 ] Recalibrating The Brain To F The Bestie

Sukuna's immediate responses were denied. Megumi's rejection of him was a familiar and grating routine that drove Sukuna to the brink of insanity. It was an unnecessary hurdle, he felt, to an end they both understood: sex.

But Megumi was denying himself even that, even as his drop prevented him from participating in the school's makeup event. That afternoon as they spectated from the far, far side of the baseball field, Sukuna festered in complete and utter confusion.

What else is there? he wondered. The answers Megumi denied went as follows:

"I'm horny?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question.

"I agree with your ridiculous friends that this is the best option." This answer was inextricably intertwined with Megumi's domdrop, which therefore, disqualified this answer.

"It's been literal centuries and I could do with a proper release." Megumi had pinned him with a dismantling scowl that sent a rush of shame through Sukuna. That answer hadn't sufficed, either.

The inane game was in session. They were sat in the shade at the edge of the forest, and the supposed best sorcerer had forced a mask and sunglasses upon Megumi. Gojo's comrades had all craned to watch the exchange and had continued to cast scathing looks down the path like Sukuna was some rare species of fawn frolicking in his natural habitat.

Sukuna tsked under his breath, arms crossed. How bothersome, he thought. This could all be resolved if it weren't for Megumi's pathetic human morals.

The bat cracked into its target and soon, the humans were scattering to fetch their little ball. Sukuna had to admit that it looked rather amusing, watching the humans run around like pet animals in their matching uniforms.

It was a welcome distraction from the well-worn grooves of Sukuna's current thoughts. He'd walked the path of his three answers over and over again, with no branches in sight. There were no other answers to Megumi's question, which meant Sukuna would just have to sit and fester there for however long it took Megumi to die of natural causes.

Or unnatural causes, Sukuna thought, knowing Kenjaku was likely scheming once more. Whether or not the bastard knew of Sukuna's current predicament, he'd been warned about Megumi. They'd planned around Hanami keeping Megumi occupied, even.

Which meant they'd need to subdue Megumi in some fashion in order for Sukuna to flee. Though he loathed to admit it, Megumi was a thorn in his back that he couldn't reach on his own.

Sukuna reclined back, sinking down just enough to make the angle of his neck uncomfortable. This twinge of annoyance aided in distracting him from the constant, dull throb of Megumi's glare crawling under his skin. It was as torturous as it was... pleasant?

No, that wasn't the right word.

This possession of his mind, body, and soul was a feat Sukuna had no clear map to navigate. Uniquely human sensations were drawn to the surface—Megumi's pesky little torture device he dubbed "panic attacks"—alongside positive ones.

Yes, he thought, that's the proper word.

He still didn't have the language for it, though, and the thought of giving Megumi a half-hearted answer was its own brand of torture. After his last three rejections, Sukuna was adamant that this last one would be the end-all-be-all answer.

For the remainder of the baseball game, Sukuna shut his eyes. His meditation session from that morning had yielded more questions than answers. Itadori's "dynamic" was a web of nonsense shed across the brat's brain that ensnared Sukuna. It was like picking grains of sand from carpet one-by-one.