Chapter Text
Jun lived with his family inside a large estate surrounded by tall, power-protected walls. He was an only child, just six years old. His grandparents often told him the same story about a curse that haunted the forest nearby, warning him to never venture outside. The forest, they said, was dangerous.
Jun learned quickly that the woods were not like normal ones. They didn’t whisper; they watched. The trees bent at strange angles, and their shadows never quite matched the sun. The elders’ warnings were clear: Never go near it—especially after sunset.
But one night, just before the sky turned black, Jun heard his name. Soft—like wind sliding over bones. "Jun..." The voice called again, and the small child, clutching his teddy, stepped outside the safety of the estate.
From between the trees, something tall and massive emerged. Jun froze. It had four arms. As his eyes traveled upward, he saw intricate tattoos spiraling across its skin—symbols that seemed to shimmer with a life of their own. But the most unsettling detail was the mouth on its stomach. It grinned, impossibly wide, a twisted parody of a smile. The creature's four red eyes glowed with an eerie intensity. It was the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna.
Jun’s legs locked in place. His body trembled. He held his teddy bear tighter, his gaze fixed on the figure. He turned to run, but before he could even move, Sukuna was already standing before him.
The creature took a slow step forward. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jun. I’ve waited so long. You don’t want to leave me again, do you?”
Jun didn’t understand. What did Sukuna mean by “again”? His feet shuffled back, but before he could take another step, Sukuna grabbed him by the waist. His four arms tightened around Jun, trapping him in an iron grip.
“You’re afraid,” Sukuna said, crouching low to meet Jun’s eyes. “That’s good. Fear makes you soft. Easy to keep.”
“I want to go back inside,” Jun whispered. His heart raced as he glanced behind him. The trees had closed in, and the path was gone.
Then, everything went black.
The next morning, the villagers searched the woods, but found no sign of Jun. No footprints. No trail. Only silence. His parents and grandparents were frantic with worry, but after that day, no one in the village ever spoke his name again.