Touch and see?
Yukiori hesitated, then reached out, placing his hand on Uraume's small ones.
His fingers, chilled from dipping into the stream, felt no cold in Uraume's touch—instead, his own chill vanished.
How strange. Yukiori's eyes widened, and he tentatively touched Uraume's hand again, half-disbelieving.
Uraume swiftly pulled back, crouching silently by the stream.
"… "
"I'm sorry, I was too forward. I've just never seen…"
"It's fine."
Yukiori's actions had overstepped, and he began to apologize, but Uraume cut him off.
Their voice was halting, softer, barely audible.
In the angle Yukiori couldn't see, Uraume's cheeks flushed a faint pink.
"I'm just not used to being touched."
Yukiori leaned closer to catch their words.
Thinking of their past, he felt a pang of sympathy for Uraume.
So young, yet forced into a life of danger and instability, shunned by those who despised and drove them away—no wonder they recoiled from touch.
These days had matured Yukiori, teaching him to offer comfort.
Crouching beside Uraume, he said, "I'm not used to being touched either. Looks like we have something in common."
"… "
"You don't have to worry. No one here will force you to do anything."
Though young, Uraume's experiences surpassed Yukiori's, likely filled with darker, more twisted sights.
To Uraume, Yukiori was fragile, someone to protect.
"Thank you…"
"… Really, don't I need to help with something?"
"No, just rest."
Yukiori fell silent, then smiled at Uraume. "I don't want to stay here for free. It makes me uneasy…"
Unnoticed, Sukuna had appeared behind them. At the sight of him, Yukiori tensed, his body stiffening.
Sensing this, Sukuna frowned. Yukiori chatted so freely with Uraume—why was he so afraid of him?
Hadn't he said he wasn't scared?
But seeing Yukiori's trembling lashes, Sukuna held his tongue.
"If you're staying a while, you can't keep wearing that. Uraume, didn't we have leftover fabric?"
Sukuna tapped his fingers, his voice firm.
Uraume glanced at Yukiori's tattered clothes, then reached out, measuring him with quick gestures.
"Huh?"
Yukiori started to bend down as Uraume stood on tiptoe.
"Don't bend. I need your measurements."
Yukiori's gaze flicked to Sukuna, who stood watching with furrowed brows, lost in thought.
"It's really not necessary…"
Yukiori murmured, but neither paid heed to his quiet protest.
"Winters are cold."
Sukuna's tone sounded harsh—at least, Yukiori thought so.
Only when Sukuna left did Yukiori exhale softly.
Uraume noticed his unease. "You don't need to fear my lord. He was showing concern."
"Winter's coming. He wants you to have warm clothes."
That's why he mentioned the cold?
Such a veiled way to care.
Uraume's words made Yukiori realize Sukuna held the authority here.
Uraume's plea for him to stay must have had Sukuna's silent approval.
Yukiori stole a glance at Sukuna's departing figure, vanishing somewhere unknown. Uraume's explanation quietly shifted his view of Sukuna.
It wasn't fear, exactly—just an odd tension when facing this cursed sorcerer.
"… "
"I didn't know you could sew."
In the room, Uraume deftly cut fabric, pure white like Sukuna's kimono.
Yukiori helped hold the cloth, marveling.
Uraume shrugged. "No one would sell to us."
Shunned by sorcerers and feared by civilians, they'd learned to fend for themselves.
"Then these materials…"
"Taken."
"… "
Fair enough.
The room was warm, warding off the chill outside.
Yukiori propped his chin, studying Uraume's hair—not pure white but tinged with faint red, unique.
The room grew quiet, filled only with Uraume's movements and soft breaths.
Uraume worked swiftly. Before dusk, the garment was finished.
As they opened their mouth to speak, Sukuna raised a finger to their lips.
He stepped from the shadows, eyeing Yukiori, asleep at the table.
"My lord, the clothes are done."
"Hm…"
Sukuna nodded, then added, "Find him some tasks. He feels uneasy living here for nothing."
Uraume nodded. Tasks meant light work—Yukiori's frail frame couldn't handle anything strenuous.
Besides…
Uraume understood Sukuna's heart.
Yukiori was an anomaly in Sukuna's plans.
As a child, Sukuna was called a monster, trampled by all.
That lasted until he gained cursed energy. A sorcerer—surely that would end the torment?
But his strange appearance brought no respect, even as he saved others.
Then he met Yukiori, who'd seen him kill yet stood by him.
Those eyes were so clear, so pure Sukuna once wanted to gouge them out.
But when Yukiori fainted, Sukuna was glad he hadn't acted, choosing instead to bring him here.
Had clarity not overcome his bloodlust, those eyes wouldn't gaze at him now.
Sukuna's original plan was to slaughter all sorcerers with Uraume—no, not just sorcerers.
Everyone deserved death.
He'd make them pay, his power forcing their fear and submission.
But Yukiori said, I think you're good people.
"… "
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🤦 : Oops! You've reached the limit for today. But just for your power stone and recommendation I might— no I would add additional Chapter.
20PS — 1 additional Chapter
40PS — 2 additional Chapter and special mention if you've contributed 3 or more PS.
That's all. Enjoy Reading!