Chapter Text
“Are you a dog or a cat person?”
“Excuse me?” Sukuna glared up at the man who so casually strolled into this office and parked himself on the edge of his desk. The head of marketing before him conducted himself in his typical fashion: loud and disrespectful with his eyes glued to that damn phone of his.
“You look like a dog person… No wait, I got it! A cat person.” Smug, the younger man eagerly tapped away at his screen. “The unconditional love of a dog would be too good for you. Someone like you should have to earn it.”
“What are you— No. I’m not going to humor this conversation. Get out of my office, Gojo, before I throw you out.”
“Come on, Kuna. Don’t be like that. I’m trying to help you out!”
“You’re distracting me.” Sukuna grumbled into his palm, holding back the slew of insults already boiling up his throat. “Some of us actually have to do our jobs. If you need to speak face-to-face, schedule a meeting with Uraume. I don’t even know how they let you waltz in here—”
“They didn’t. Anyway, I’m sure the sales department won’t spontaneously combust if you take five minutes away from your computer. It’s for your own good. You should be thanking me!”
“I’ll thank you over email when you get the hell out of my office!” The older of the two threatened to smack the younger with a stack of documents, only holding back from going through with it when Satoru jumped off the desk with his hands raised in the air. He stumbled on his feet a bit as Sukuna then tossed the papers aside, preemptively cursing himself for the question he was about to ask. “What the hell are you up to?”
“Well, I was going to make your dating profile—”
“—I don’t date—”
“—But since someone is so adamant about not interacting with other human beings, I have come to the conclusion that you need to start small with an animal. Clearly, I won’t suggest a dog.”
How many times was it necessary for Sukuna to shoot down Satoru’s nonsense before he got the message?
“I don’t have time for a pet.”
“You keep saying that… But,” Satoru stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking on the back of his feet. “I mean, if you aren’t going to date, you need to have some companion in your life before you find yourself old and alone with no one to mourn your loss.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”
“It’s a warning, Kuna.” Again with that unwarranted nickname— “Being this work-oriented isn’t healthy. I’m surprised you haven’t keeled over and died from stress. Would you agree, Nanamin?”
As Satoru was running his mouth, Kento had quietly opened the door to Sukuna’s office aware that he had stumbled into something he’d rather not be a part of.
“Don’t involve me in this, I’m on my lunch. I only came in here to deliver this morning’s paperwork.”
“Thank you for your work, Kento.”
Sukuna readily accepted the man’s paperwork before waving him off, internally wishing he could just as easily leave with him before turning his attention back to the unwanted presence.
“I’m resilient. And I don’t have time for friends or partners. I have chosen to focus on my career and results speak for themselves.” Sukuna then pointed to the nameplate on his desk. He’d worked many sleepless nights and continuously performed above his station to earn this position, unlike the brat whose father owned the company they both worked for.
“That’s so sad. And boring. Even I have time for a social life.”
A social life. More like an excuse to slack off inside or outside of work. Only Satoru could call it networking and find a way to get paid for it. But Sukuna? He would not be so fortunate.
“And you think an animal companion will fill whatever void I lack? I have people I speak to. Take Uraume for example—”
“Assistants who you only see at work or contact for work don’t count.”
“We exchange texts about non-work related topics.”
“Uh, huh. Anyway, get yourself an animal, test out opening your heart to another living being and if you don’t like it in two weeks, I’ll give up seeing you as human.” Satoru sauntered towards the door, throwing it open with reckless abandon before leaning on the handle to finish his thought. “Then we can put this whole thing behind us, ok? Good talk.”
The door to Sukuna’s office slammed shut, leaving him alone to ponder the horrid idea Satoru had unapologetically put in his head.
Sukuna could not tell what was worse: The initial suggestion Satoru had come barreling into his office with or that Uraume had genuinely thought the idea was a good one. Or at least one worth humoring simply for the sake of getting Satoru off his back.
Now, a pet wasn’t inherently a bad idea. Bad in the sense that it would be detrimental to Sukuna’s well-being or somehow cause problems with his work. But having Satoru be the one bringing the idea to his attention was enough to make Sukuna’s stomach turn.
He didn’t have time for an animal! At least a proper one. Dogs and cats had their merits, but they required time and affection. A dog while useful as a guard would need training. Birds and reptiles crossed Sukuna’s mind, but the former was often loud and messy while the latter may require specialized care that could easily raise his expenses if not careful.
Now a fish… If it meant putting this whole thing to rest, Sukuna could easily walk into his local pet store or aquatics shop and bring home something to put in his office. Snap a picture, feed it twice a day, and call it done. A silent companion with minimal needs that could not bother him while working from home— It was the most ideal solution.
Only after scouring the internet for as much information on fish keeping as he could did Sukuna finally work up the nerve to make his first supply run.
A small pet store resided between his apartment and his office building downtown. Nestled between two large buildings, it takes a small walk through the alley to find the door leading inside. Most people would avoid a place like this, but places hidden in the city’s alcoves were what Sukuna adored and found the most enjoyment to visit. He’d be left to do his business in peace with a little chance of someone from work stumbling upon him.
The bell over the door signaled his entrance, yet Sukuna was let to wander the store as he pleased without interruption. The man nudged his way to the back of the establishment, seeking out the rows of tanks underneath where the light was dimmest. It was here that he began surveying the walls for something to catch his eye, knowing full well the pictures online could never do a single one of these creatures justice.
Disappointingly, nothing speaks to him even after several minutes of perusing the same set of shelves. Many of the predator fish he’d found interest in were to grow too big or take up far too much effort to maintain. Ideally, it would be best to start with something smaller, leaving him to cross out anything that did not need more than forty to eighty liters. He’d also kept in mind that anything he settled on would have to wait until he had the tank set up and cycled thoroughly for at least a month in advance, although he hoped to circumvent that by buying a smaller set-up right from the shelf if the store would allow it.
Anything to get this entire ordeal over with.
Sukuna considered a goldfish, but found them too easy of a choice. And he could already imagine what Satoru’s mockery would sound like. Betta fish were another fish recommended to beginners, and given how their colors and fins held such variety, Sukuna was willing to give them a chance. One breed was even referred to as kings due to their size, which had made him rather intrigued.
Still, he chose to delve further into the shop to see all the ‘wonders’ this place had to offer, growing more cynical each moment he remained undecided. Truly, did it really matter what he bought if he intended to return it once his coworkers moved on to the next topic to bombard his life with? Sukuna could probably get away with just buying a couple of aquarium snails or shrimp and calling it a day, but for some reason, he continued into the section of densely planted tanks to look at all the live decor available.
It was here that the man found himself drawn deeper in by more than his own will. In the farthest corner, a third shelf from the floor sat a small tank, roughly twenty liters in volume. A bed of moss carpeted the rocks in front of a small cave decoration with several plants Sukuna could not bother to name swaying on either side. All of this to frame a tiny pearlescent pink orb sitting in the center.
A decoration?
“All this for a marble?” Sukuna found himself voicing his thoughts as he squinted at the tiny thing.
“It does look like one, doesn’t it?” A girl— Kasumi, according to her name tag —with bright blue hair snuck her way into the cramped aisle, a small box of tools in hand. Probably to clean and assess the tanks.
“What is it if not a marble?”
“An egg. At least, that’s what my boss thinks. It came in attached to one of those plants in the last shipment. We haven’t been able to tell which species it belongs to, but it’s been doing well in the brackish tank we set up for it.” The employee scooted closer, pointing her finger against the glass. “See? No signs of caving in or discoloration in the last two weeks we’ve had it. Whatever the little guy is, he’s still hanging in there.”
That was… interesting, to say the least. A bit of mystery never did any harm and Sukuna found himself way more enraptured in this egg than any of the full-grown fish swimming around.
“There’s a price tag on it? Even though you don’t know what you’re selling?” Sukuna traced his hand over the number drawn on the tank’s glass. The amount of zeros had been nothing short of robbery!
“I just work here, sir.”
“Clearly.”
Sukuna stepped back to allow the girl to do her job as he weighed the pros and cons of retrieving this egg of all things from the pet store.
An egg meant he wouldn't have to deal with getting used to another presence in his space watching him right away. A problem he only realized when walking around under the vacant stares of half the creatures swimming around him. There was a chance the egg never hatched at all, but if it does and ends up being something he couldn't handle, the man could just bring it back. If it’s something on the simpler side, it'll be a fine enough tale to tell if anyone pressed him for details on his pet.
He glanced at the tank one more time before letting out a laugh, smacking his own forehead with his palm at what he was about to do.
“How much would it be to buy the set-up in its entirety?”
“Y-You mean the whole tank?”
“That’s right. I’d rather not risk moving the egg into a new enclosure if you already have one with the set parameters.” Sukuna reached into his jacket for his wallet, opening it up to see how many banknotes he had at his disposal or if he would need to do the purchase with his card. “Moving it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, as I have the patience to spare.”
“Um, uh, let me go get my boss. Don’t move!”
There were no issues to speak of on the trip home. The drive was short and the elevator ride up to his apartment was solitary. If anything could be considered trouble, it was the balancing act Sukuna performed to get his keys to open his apartment’s door, but other than that, he was able to set the tank up in his office with time to spare.
Sukuna jumped onto his computer which sat snugly in the corner of the room, across from the tank. Curious about what research he could find on this mystery egg, what had become a source of amusement had quickly devolved into frustration as very little could be found on what looked to be nothing more than a dyed pearl.
The thought of having fallen for a scam had crossed the man’s mind. With a flashlight, Sukuna shined the light through the egg from the back, revealing something inside. Something that twitched from the sudden stimulus, assuring that there was definitely a living thing underneath the pearly shell.
His working theory now that the thought of dye had crossed Sukuna’s mind was that the egg was something mundane and discolored to look more tantalizing than it appeared. However, he wouldn’t know until the thing hatched, so all the man could do was incorporate checking in on the tank once before he left work and once after he returned home to monitor any changes that may have occurred.
A week passed by.
Then another.
Sukuna could have sworn that the egg had grown bigger, but after staring at it long enough, he began to doubt himself. Putting a ruler up against the tank yielded inconclusive results since he had taken no prior measurements beforehand.
Maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to see. No matter, Sukuna was determined to see this ordeal through as he had done with every task laid before prior to now. Failure would not be accepted.
But, just as the third week reached its conclusion, Sukuna came home to nothing but horror as he turned the light on to his office to find the egg missing in its entirety. The bed of moss lay barren, with no sign to be found, as if it had never been there in the first place.
Irrationally, Sukuna’s mind had first jumped to theft as the answer to this puzzle. He had hastily dismissed it, naturally, for how stupid the notion was. There had been no signs of a break-in upon entering his apartment nor had his security alarm been triggered, not to mention he possessed far more valuable things that would have been taken in the egg’s place.
The man tossed his work briefcase and jacket onto his computer chair before crouching down in front of the tank. Now at eye level, he scanned the underwater world inside. Ever nook. Every cranny. He shuffled around to view it from every angle, releasing a sigh of relief as a hint of pink poked out from behind the dense plants that now covered most of the tank.
As if aware that it was caught, what had to be none other than the newly hatched fish darted out of sight.
Sukuna stepped left to catch up with it, but the fish spun around to hide out of sight yet again. He then stepped right, and the fish continued the same pattern of avoidance, never allowing more than the tip of its back fins to be viewed between whatever object the creature was hiding behind.
To be outdone by a newborn fish…
He dragged a hand down his face, then swallowed his pride. Sukuna stepped back from the tank and began unpacking his things to settle in for the weekend. A tactical retreat for when he would poke around the tank later to figure out what species had ended up in his care. The fins appeared rather large for a newborn fish, close to the size of a guppy, but so had the egg itself in comparison to many he’d researched online, which did not bode well for him if the creature ended up growing too much larger.
Once finished with his things, Sukuna sat down and booted up his computer, content to read a few missed emails and catch up on the evening news in the meantime.
He hadn’t realized how easy it was for him to be sucked directly into his nightly routine, with the time unknowingly flying by until his stomach made his hunger known. Having relied solely on coffee to get through the later half of the day, Sukuna gave in to the urge to make himself a proper meal, already grumbling under his breath about the shopping list he so desperately needed to make.
Upon getting up, the man gave a cursory glance back at the tank, utterly shocked at the dash of pink across his vision that he had to do a double take.
The newly hatched fish had revealed itself front and center— Only it was no fish.
As if pulled from a children’s fairy tale, what Sukuna was now staring at was indeed a fishtail of pink and orange, connected to the upper body of a human. A very tiny human. One with a minuscule tuff of pink hair and frilly fins where one would have expected his ears to be if he were of normal size.
Two golden disks stared back at him, reflecting both the aquarium light and that of the computer monitor Sukuna had been working on. A webbed hand remained pressed against the glass, keeping the little one in place as they both continued to stare at each other.
One in utter disbelief.
The other in timid curiosity.
As the shock wore off, Sukuna found it in him to take a step forward to get a closer look. To convince himself that his eyes were not deceiving him. But as he did, the moment his foot hit the ground the miniature merman darted out of sight almost instantaneously.
“What the fuck—?”