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sad-soup-and-chaos · 2 days ago

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My monthly drabble.

My current favourite Sukuna Mafia boss AU. but with a tragic swing.

18+

Mention of violence, sexual assault, death, suicide. Long. Pain no comfort. Not proof-read.

IF ONLY...

The holiday season was a dreaded time of the year for Sukuna. The business went well, of course, with so many clients seeking easy pleasure and their high. But it also meant that people were unnecessarily cheerful and self-centered. As always he was suddenly short on men and had to deal with some of the clients himself.

The worst, the longest week of the year. He felt so genuinely exhausted. In such a need of rest and relief.. but the thought of any usual hooker he used to go to made his stomach churn with disgust. He was done with cheap people for the week.

He stood in front of his HQ smoking like some hobo, not the most dangerous boss of the most infamous yakuza family. "What a dreadful weather" he thought watching the grey sky, dump cold seeping into his bones, making him shiver.

He needed to think of something. Something less distasteful.. more sophisticated. To feed his empty soul and ease his irritation. His eyes fell on an early XX century poster of a geisha advertising some beer in an antique shop across the street.

A geisha. Now that didn't sound half as bad as it usually would. They were classy, beautiful, artistic. They had strict etiquette and didn't mingle with their clients.

Perfect.

His hand reached for his phone and he googled locations offering geisha services. He groaned. Some looked like cheap imitations, he would probably end up drugged with an old ugly hooker... some looked too flashy for his taste.

And then.. he came across a site of a teahouse in the outskirts of the city. The site was minimalistic. A few photographs of the place looking almost ancient. No pictures of the girls. No flashy advertisements of their skills.. Just the address. But something about it felt strangely authentic and mysterious. Tsk.. too intriguing to pass by.

He checked the route and a few moments later he was driving his overpriced sports car towards the location. In less than half an hour he parked outside the teahouse.

A sign above the old heavy door Tamatori hime

The jewel-taking princess, the famous lady Tamatori who stole a precious pearl from a sea dragon. What a name.

He pushed against the heavy wooden doors and came inside the comforting warmth welcoming him in. He was met with an unexpected sight. Wooden walls with calligraphy and ink and an old elegant woman in a kimono sitting behind a low table. "Welcome, traveller" her voice was calm and almost soothing.

"A tea for one.." he muttered, his voice lacking his usual sharpness "and a companion for the evening"

The old woman hummed. "You won't find what you seek in any rooms here." she said calmly. "But you might.. if you enter the Pearl garden behind the house."

"That is.. if our jewel will accept" she added, her voice slightly thoughtful. Then she lowered her eyes, took a brush, placed a piece of handmade paper on the table and put the brush into the ink on her table.

Sukuna felt confused and slightly irritated. He had the money to buy the whole house, the garden, all the staff with their families together. "And what is the difference between the ones in the house and garden?"

"The women in the house.. will not satiate your hunger and fill your emptiness" the old woman said without lifting her eyes at him. The brush masterfully leaving ink on the paper.

Her words. Her audacity. The way she didn't even look at him yet dared to say those words.. It made him all even more irritated. But the old woman drew with such elegance he didn't have the heart to burst out yet.

"And how do you know, that the one in the garden will satisfy me?" he scoffed

"I don't." she said making him scowl even more "I am here simply to welcome the travellers who decide to enter our establishment. And help them choose one of the rooms" she said the black ink slowly forming a kanji for pearl. "And you, traveller, should go to the Pearl garden" she said softly.

"You make an empty assumption, woman" he scoffed hardly keeping his temper in check. "What happens if i don't follow your advice?" he almost hissed.

And then to his genuine surprise he heard a giggle from behind the wall on his left. Such a pleasant sound, so light.. but so strangely mocking. Was it a coincidence? His eyes darted to the left only to see an ink drawing of a small traditional teahouse over a pond with a garden beside it.

"It is not advice. It is a mere suggestion. It is your choice whether to follow it" the old woman said and took out a small wooden stamp.

"I know a mockery when i hear it. But I doubt you will tell me who it is.." he said coldly referring to that melodic giggle "Then let me hear another suggestion of yours. WHY.. would i enjoy the company of your jewel?"

"Shinju" the old woman said. Her voice still calm and unaffected by the spite in his voice. Was she referring to the name of the person behind the wooden wall.. Shinju.. a pearl. Or was she simply referring to the legend of lady Tamatori after which the house was named?

"Because, she is the crown jewel of this place. And if she accepts you.. and you don't enjoy it.. It only means you are too dead inside already. And no one else would be able to change that" the old woman said leaving him completely speechless. She then proceeded to put the stamp into red ink and pressed it onto the paper before her.

He was so shocked, so utterly confused. How dared she? How dared they?! Didn't they want his money? Weren't they afraid.. that the only words that escaped his lips sounded weak and defensive "I am not dead inside" he muttered despite himself.

The same giggle rang through the wooden wall mocking him. Mocking his words. Mocking his reaction.

"Then why are you here on this dreadful night if not to warm up your soul?" the old woman asked calmly. She took the handmade paper with the calligraphy in her hands and gently blew over the ink.

He blinked. He felt so confused, so utterly taken aback by all that was happening that he found himself muttering "What is that supposed to mean?" his eyes shifting between the old woman in front of him and the cursed wooden wall. "I am here for the company of a beautiful woman. Nothing more and nothing less. Stop making assumptions!"

The same cheerful giggle "It is not a brothel, kakka.. it is a teahouse" the cheerful voice so sweet so sultry so.. mysterious and intriguing.. It made his heart flutter despite the utter irritation he was feeling.

"We have no oiran. We have tea. The brothel is right behind you, across the street" the voice from behind the wall added.

This voice. This sweetness. Its melody. The slightly mocking tone. So infuriating yet so intriguing. He was Ryomen Sukuna, the yakuza boss notorious for his bad temper and his cruelty. Yet despite himself.. "I do not need a cheap woman. I need a woman worthy of my time!" he squeezed out

"But are you worthy of hers?" the voice asked and giggled.

He stood dumbfounded. His hands trembling with powerless rage. He closed his eyes. No need to burst in front of some useless women.

And just when his eyes closed.. he heard a sound so familiar, yet distant. A thud of a folding fan being closed. Then a series of shonji doors opened somewhere to the right. And the heavy entrance wooden door opened behind him bringing in a whirlwind of sharp cold and snowflakes.

His eyes opened instantly, a cold unpleasant shiver running down his body.

The old woman before him straightened herself and held the paper with the calligraphy of a single word for him. Shinju. Pearl. He was given a choice. He was pushed into choosing between the unknown mystery of the Pearl garden behind the teahouse.. and the exit.

Sukuna had a deep scowl on his face. But he didn't hesitate. He grabbed the cursed piece of paper and marched through the open shoji door to the right of him. He was so determined he didn't even hear the soft steps of the old woman behind him who went to close the wooden doors.

Sukuna simply walked along the endless corridor, the maze of shoji doors opening and closing behind him. The alluring mocking giggle still ringing in his head pushing him further, taunting him, playing with his exhausted mind. He didn't even notice that the shoji doors behind him kept closing, cutting him off from the exit.

The maze suddenly ended in a courtyard with a karesansui garden looking haunting in the winter cold. His eyes darted around not seeing anything of importance. He turned around to go back to finally ask questions, to demand.. But then the last shoji door closed before his nose leaving him alone in the empty garden. He groaned and kicked the shoji.. and looked around again. And then to his surprise he saw a round Chinese moon gate to another part of the garden with nothing but the darkness beneath it.

Without much choice he walked to the gate and stepped through. The second he did.. the stone toro lanterns suddenly lit all over the place suddenly revealing a neat stone path and the garden it led through. His legs moved on their own, his eyes hungrily drinking in the peaceful landscape until they stopped on a small teahouse over a pond. The same one from the ink drawing he had seen on the wall of the house making him suddenly pause his confident stride.

And there.. on the side of the lake stood a stone pagoda-like pavilion with a stone table and a woman sitting on one of the stone stools. She was wearing traditional attire with a luscious fur collar. A small stone stove beside her with a pot of boiling water.

He was so shocked by the sight staring at it, completely srill. A stray snowflake hit his cheek reminding him of the horrible weather outside. Waking him up from his daze.

He started walking to the pavilion his eyes never leaving the woman. The closer he came.. the less confident his stride became, until it came to a halt yet again. He stood a few steps away struck by her beauty. She looked so delicate and pure. Was he really worthy of her time? He started to doubt it.

"Good evening, traveller" her voice greeted him like a gentle melody caressing his soul. "Would you entertain me with a game of Go?" she asked so softly. Her calm eyes looked at him. And for once, or rather for the second time this very evening he felt no judgement coming from them.. but also no fear.

Sukuna would have spoken if he could find his voice. But he was almost afraid to hear how it would sound. So he silently nodded and sat on a stone stool opposite to her. He realised, this game of Go should be the test by which the woman would decide if she accepted him as her client. But at this moment he just knew that for the first time in his life he would fail, he would lose pathetically, too captivated by her beauty, by her aura.. by everything she was.

"Please, have some tea, traveller. The weather is rather unpleasant tonight" she offered and put a simple clay cup before him, then poured a herbal tea that was simmering on the stone stove beside her. His eyes darted to her gloved hands despite his better judgement.

They sat in silence for a few moments. All of his confidence, his arrogance gone for good. He blinked trying to move.. to speak.. to do something. Yet all he could muster was a nod. His hand reached for the cup and he made a sip. The herbal tea slightly bitter, yet refreshing and strangely fitting for the cold night. He put the cup down and silently placed a marble on the stone board between them.

Her delicate hand reached for a marble of her own.. but naturally it slipped from her glothed hand. She softly clicked her tongue and took the glove off, then placed her marble as well. His eyes darted to her hand. It was too delicate for such cold weather. What a strange thought.

They kept playing for some time in complete silence. "Can you tell me your name?" at least her name.. His voice came out strangely gruff and almost shaky.

"You already know it" she answered softly.

"What?" he muttered his eyes darting away trying to understand what she meant. And then he remembered the calligraphy, the name uttered by the old woman.

Shinju. The pearl stolen by lady Tamatori, the jewel kept in the secret garden behind the teahouse. "You are Shinju" his eyes lifted to her face.

She softly nodded placing another marble on the table. Her hand. It looked so pale now. She must be cold in this horrible weather.

He felt an urge to take this delicate cold hand and warm it in his own big warm hands. An urge to touch her and make sure she was warm. But she was a geisha. Someone he shouldn't touch. He gritted his teeth, his eyebrows coming together. Instead he put a marble of his own. Its click too loud in the silence of the winter garden.

To touch the hands, to warm them. But was he even worthy of her time? He was losing pathetically, and by an embarrassingly big margin. But even not this.. Was he, the Ryomen Sukuna, the coldhearted criminal whose hands were covered in blood and violence, was he even worthy to sit in the presence of this pure beauty? He had to remind himself for the mptieth time that she was a geisha, he shouldn't be even considering such acts.

Her hand put another marble on the stone table. It was so pale, it looked almost translucent. Before he could stop himself his hand grabbed hers almost rudely. Her eyes lifted in small surprise. Her hand was so cold, almost as if he was touching a corpse. He blinked.

And then he reacted. His coat was down in no time and wrapped over her. He scooped her in his arms and carried her quickly along the strong path and into the teahouse over the pond.

Her eyes were slightly wide and never leaving his face.. while he was looking straight forward. He knew the consequences of touching a geisha. He was ready to pay any fine. To pay thrice, ten times the price. To be forbidden from every teahouse around Japan.. But he wasn't ready to see her reaction.

He somehow slid the shoji door and stepped inside. He quickly slid it closed to cut off the cold air. And then he lowered to his knees not to spoil the clean tatami floors. He swallowed and lowered her gaze to her still not quite ready to see her face.

He maybe had thought that she would go mad, scream, scold him, or even slap him. But instead she giggled and opened her folding fan. "Welcome to my home, traveller". He sat there completely dumbfounded. Shouldn't he.. Shouldn't he be chasen away? Shouldn't he be forbidden from this place? His thoughts ran a thousand miles per hour.. yet his head felt completely empty with how utterly shocked he was. He finally realised that not the game of Go was her test.

But then.. she kneeled beside him and started to unlace his shoes. "You.." he tried to speak

"Mmm?" she hummed

"You don't need to do that" he finally squeezed out.

"I don't need to.. but I want to." she answered with a small smile. It wasn't mocking or condescending. It was a calm peaceful smile. She took off his shoe and then moved to the other one. He stared in complete dibelief. Staring silently at her like a complete idiot.

"You see.. there is a secret behind the Moon gates of the garden" she said "The girls inside the house are geishas. But I am not." That meant that she was not bound by the etiquette of the geisha. And she indeed did what she wanted.

She then placed her hand on his elbow as if to help him stand up. "You seem exhausted, traveller. And what is a better thing for an exhausted traveller than a warm bath?" she smiled. He swallowed heat rising to his cheeks. He was.. He was so many things. So opposite to her. And here she was holding his elbow in this manner.. He rose himself and nodded silently, now towering over her small form. "Please, follow me then" she bowed her head slightly

"Is there a name, you would like me to use, traveller?" she asked as she led him along the corridor.

"Sukuna" he squeezed out quietly not quite trusting his own voice.

"Sukuna." she repeated as if trying it on her tongue. His name sounding so so gentle all of a sudden. They entered the bathroom. Warm fragrant fog, a big wooden round soaking tub with a small fireplace below it. She turned to him "Would you like me to help you undress, Sukuna-sama?"

His heart went to his throat. He was unable to react for a whole minute and then slowly nodded.

She smiled softly. Not mocking. Not judging. A small genuine peaceful smile almost as if it was her pleasure to take care of him. She approached him and started unbuttoning his shirt. Her movements attentive almost too careful not to touch him in any way. Almost reverent. But most importantly.. unflinching in the face of his impressive height, his big muscular form, his scars and tattoos.

It was so strange. They all flinched. The escorts, his fake girlfriends, gold-diggers, even the expensive professional hookers would flinch eventually. But not her. She removed his shirt. Unbuckled his belt. His pants dropped onto the floor so now he was left only with his socks.. and his boxers on.

"May I?" she asked softly "Or would you prefer to do it yourself?"

To his dismay he answered before he could stop himself "You may" And gods, his face never felt so hot.

She bowed her head politely and lowered to remove his socks. Then went behind him to give him at least some sort of privacy. Her hands gently tugged on the hem of his boxers. Then she very carefully slid them down.

He forgot how to breathe turning a new unexpected shade of red. And quickly, maybe a way too quickly stepped into the wooden soaking tub, sat down, allowing the water to cover his body.

"Would you like some tea and snacks? Or maybe liquor, Sukuna-sama?" she asked

Sukuna-sama. "Both" he blurted out before his thoughts went astray at the sound of his name paired with this honorifics coming from her sweet mouth in that voice of hers. "Tea and sake"

She bowed her head politely and left the bathroom. She returned soon. Sat two cups for him and a small plate of snacks on a wooden tray and.. put it onto water allowing it to float towards him. "And do you like music, Sukuna-sama?"

"Music?"

"Yes. To be more precise, guqin music. I am not very good with shamisen. But I could play you the guqin if you would like that.. of course." she said

"Yeah.. I'd like to hear it"

"Thank you" she smiled.. Grateful for being able to play for him. He wanted to stop her. He didn't deserve it. Her gratefulness, her care, he wasn't worthy of her time and effort. But she was already gone from the bathroom.

A few moments later she settled on the floor, a black old instrument in front of her. Her long fingers lowered to the strings and a melody started flowing through the warm fog of the bathroom. A gentle whisper of the times and memories that were so familiar but had never happened. The melody wrapped around him, so melancholic making his cold heart ache with unknown yearning, with a longing he had never felt before.

After a long long time he had lost track of the melody softly died out leaving him strangely disappointed. "Would you like me to help you wash, Sukuna-sama?" her gentle voice asked

His eyes went wide open. How many times would this woman render him speechless? Before he could dwell into it he simply nodded.

She went behind him. And held his head gently so she could pour water over his hair without allowing it into his eyes. He tried not to move too much feeling strangely restless. She added the shampoo and started carefully washing his hair allowing him to get used to the feeling of her fingers between his locks. And then started massaging his scalp. His body froze and then slowly eased into the feeling. The feeling of being cared for. Maybe for the first time in his life.

She then washed the shampoo away and continued to wash his body. Every muscle. Every crook, every crevice. Constantly asking him if she could, if he felt fine. So considerate and respectful. He forgot his stress, forgot his troubles, forgot the world outside this small warm bathroom. The world outside of her hands.

It was late night or rather a very early morning when she finished. Washing him. Applying oils to his skin. Feeding him. Helping him in and out of clothes. She was helping him one last time. Buttoning his shirt up. He felt a strange tightness in his chest. Watching most non-chalantly her every move, as if trying to memorize it forever.

An hour later he was in his penthouse. And went straight to the bed falling asleep the second his head touched the pillow. He hadn't slept so well for gods know how many years. And woke up the next morning.

"Make me a reservation in Tamatori-hime establishment" he said gruffly to Uraume upon entering his office. He already missed her touch, missed her very presence.

"Tamatori hime? Wasn't it that brothel that burnt in a fire 10 years ago?" Toji mused. Sukuna's heart stopped beating at these words.

"Tsk, it was a teahouse with geisha!" Gojo rolled his eyes.

"Oi, same shit" Toji groaned

"No it isn't! You are such a brut. Sometimes I wonder how you even a Zenin" Gojo huffed

Sukuna was deaf to their bickering. The words repeating in his head *the house that burnt ten years ago*. But he had been in that house *the day before*

"Uraume, make me a reservation" Sukuna repeated.

"Boss? You are pale" Geto hummed. His men suddenly stopped bickering and turned to look at Sukuna. "I will check"

"Oh" Geto muttered "Now I remember, it has become an urban legend"

A what?

"Yes, I do remember too" Uraume hummed deep in thought. "They had this geisha who wouldn't accept every client"

Yes. It was her. Shinju. Their crown jewel. His.. pearl. But why did his men speak in Past tense? He had been with her a day before. Sukuna felt a strange uneasiness creep into his body.

"And one day she refused some big yakuza boss" as the words kept reaching him the air kept getting incredibly stuffy. "He called his men.."

"Or.. I now remember"

Sukuna couldn't even discern the voices of his men anymore, feeling his own pulse drumming loudly in his head. A plitting headache beginning to rise in his head. For the first time in his life Sukuna felt sick and dizzy. "They returned and raped every single woman. And the geisha in question slit her own throat. They then burnt the whole place down to cover the evidence"

"Yeah, but some say, the Teahouse appears every year on the date of its demise and allows customers to enter"

"boss? BOSS?!" He didn't hear them anymore. He was in a daze. Slowly sliding onto the floor. His eyes unseeing. A beautiful face in his head.

If only he..

If only he could..

If only he could.. do what?..

"Mmm? You look.. sad?.. Don't worry, Sukuna-sama. We will see each other very soon." the sweet voice rang in his head before the darkness slowly filled his vision and his consciousness slipped away.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk fanfic #sukuna x reader #jjk au #jjk sukuna #pain no comfort

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