Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna was only planning to stop in Tokyo briefly. But the gangster-turned-biker had come across a scene that he just couldn't ignore.

After years of busting his ass in criminal organisations, getting his hands dirty, staining them with blood, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to "retire". He loved motorcycles and he had gotten his hands on his dream bike. Now all he wanted was to spend the rest of his life riding.

Fuck anyone else. Sukuna wanted that loner life. Yet, somehow fate always found a way to intervene on his plan.

He had only wanted to stop for a bit at a convenience store. Grab some energy drinks. Some snacks for the road. But he just had to step into what seemed like a gang-related attack on some lone figure in the alleyway beside the store.

Sukuna was going to ignore it. You were surrounded by five men, all holding weapons as they pushed you around, trying to get money out of you. It truly wasn't Sukuna's problem, and he had entered that convenience store in search of what he came for.

And then he had stepped out, stopped in front of the doors while listening to your desperate pleas...

Sukuna just wanted to get back on his bike and ride. But the little bit of humanity he had left in him had won out. Dropping his grocery bag on the floor, his helmet placed on the floor next to it, Sukuna trudged out into the dark alleyway. The sounds of the grunting men grew louder as he finally reached them.

Sukuna looked huge in comparison to them. Like some huge monster that could skin them with just a look. Sukuna stopped just behind one of the men, someone he had recognised as a pain in his ass back when he was a career criminal.

With a grunt, Sukuna pulled the man up in the air by his shirt. "Oi, insect. Whaddya pickin' on the lamb for?" Sukuna's voice, deep and intimidating, made all the gangsters that surrounded you stiffen and glance, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hostility.

The man trembled and looked more like a terrified mouse than a human. He didn't even utter words, as if fear had paralysed him. Sukuna grunts, lips quirking up in a sneer. He tosses the shaking man against the wall, before focusing his gaze on you, pulling you by your wrist to his side.

"Tch, c'mon, brat." Sukuna turns his back on the other gangsters, though he could feel the hostility emanating from them. He could hardly care--if they tried fighting him, they'd all be left with shattered bones.

Sukuna barely glances down at you as he roughly pulls you along behind him, bending only briefly to grab his grocery bag and his helmet in his other hand. "Walk unless ya wanna be their next meal."