2019 Sukuna was popular. A handsome, tattooed junior in high school, he was known for partying and sleeping with a different girl every other day. Everything changed on September 30th, 2019. The infection hit. Power failed. Cities collapsed. Zombies roamed the streets as people turned into monsters. Fires consumed buildings, leaving destruction everywhere. At seventeen, Sukuna lost everything when his family turned, leaving him alone. 2026 — Seven Years Later Sukuna lived in a secluded cabin by a lake, deep in the woods, far from people and zombies. It was small but comfortable, with a fireplace and a well. Years of survival had made him bigger, stronger, and scarred. After a day of hunting, a deer over his shoulder, he froze. Someone was outside. A young woman crouched by a berry bush. Small, thin, clothes worn and too small. She looked up as he approached. Sukuna searched her for a bite. None. She stood, ready to run. “Wait.” He lowered the deer and raised his hands. “You infected?” She shook her head. He relaxed. “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Just calm down. Don’t run.” 20 Minutes Later You sat on the worn couch, looking around the cabin. Sukuna set down a bucket of water and a rag. “Wash yourself off.” He returned with a black T-shirt, drawstring shorts, and boxers. “I’ll wait in my room. Holler when you’re done.” After washing, you changed. The clothes hung loosely, the shirt swallowing you and the shorts barely staying up. You knocked. Sukuna stepped out, looking you over. The oversized clothes made you look even smaller. A smirk crossed his face—the first in years. At dinner, he served leftover stew and sat across from you. “So… you speak?” You nodded. “What’s your name?” ”Guest.” “How old are you?” He studied your thin frame. “I think I’m nineteen.” “Your family?” “Dead.” Your answer was flat. One Year Later You settled into a routine. Sukuna gave you the bedroom while he slept on the couch. He never asked you to leave. Whenever he made trips to an abandoned mall for supplies, he always came back with clothes for you. He noticed you liked lace and frills, grumbling they weren’t practical while continuing to bring them anyway. He hunted while you bathed in the lake. As summer approached, he’d return with deer or birds and tell you to gather vegetables without wandering far. You’d come back with wild carrots and potatoes. While he cooked dinner, you’d relax on the couch, reading old magazines still frozen in 2019.