Chapter Text
He sighed.
Seriously, how did it come to this? He felt dead inside. Well, not that he wasn't already.
Standing at the register of a restaurant with an unholy number of body counts to its name, Cemilo waited for the next unfortunate soul to step inside. God forbid it be a woman...Shit, he just knew he was getting eyebags.
A yell echoed from the kitchen, his boss barking out something about 'mopping up the special sauce and doing it with your tongue'
Cemilo cringed in sympathy for his coworker, aka, Choso.
Straightening up, he forced himself into customer-service mode as the door creaked open. A woman. Oh no.
"Um, hello. Could I get a steak?" she asked politely.
Cemilo's expression shifted into that of a war veteran who had seen too much. "Of course," he said, forcing a kind smile. But his eyes told a different story.
"But first... could you help me with something, lady? I need help finding the meat."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Oh, uh... sure?"
He led her into the meat room.
She was never seen again.
Again—how did it come to this? I think this calls for a flashback!
He screamed.
Falling from at least twenty feet in the air, Cemilo plummeted onto the rooftop of a random building. Pain exploded through his body as his limbs twisted in such ways they shouldn't. Absolute hell. Why did this always happen to him?
A single rusty door stood across from him, leading down into the building. Without much thought, he staggered toward it, pushing it open. The hinges groaned in protest as the door swung inward, revealing a dark stairwell.
Hesitantly, he descended the cold, damp concrete steps, eager to get out of this abandoned place. The air was thick with the scent of mildew, and each step echoed eerily. This was disgusting. And creepy.
Finally, he found the exit and stumbled into a narrow alleyway. It was...vile. Layers of grime and god knows what caked the walls.
As he walked, he wondered where the portal had spat him out this time.
Broken signs, piles of junk, and scattered trash littered the alley.
' CLANK.'
Cemilo froze. His body locked up as his heart slammed against his ribs. He whipped his head toward the sound, his pulse racing.
Only to see a cat.
An ugly one at that.
It hissed at him.
Cemilo wrinkled his nose in disgust, glaring right back. "Rude." He seriously disliked cats.
They reminded him of someone.
"Uh... excuse me? You can't be here."
"Hm?!"
Cemilo spun toward the voice, startled yet again. Standing there was a man holding two trash bags. He had dark brown hair tied into pigtails and eyes that screamed, I don't get enough sleep.
Cem blinked. "Oh, uh, sorry! It's just— I'm kinda lost, you know..." He chuckled sheepishly, relieved to finally see another person. Maybe this guy could help.
The man, however, looked far from impressed. He just stood there, staring at Cem judging him like an unpaid therapist
Cem's eyes drifted to the doorway behind him. The guy had clearly just stepped out from the back of a building. Cem tilted his head, looking behind the man. "What's this place?"
The man let out a long sigh, visibly rethinking every life choice that had led him here.
Cem grinned awkwardly. "You look like a chill guy. Could you tell me? Please? Pretty please with—uh—whatever toppings you like on top?"
"...."
The man told Cem that this was the back of a restaurant called SMK. He also told him— rather bluntly—to never come back here if he knew what was good for him. Cem wasn't sure if it was a threat or a warning. Either way, all he really heard was restaurant, which meant food.
His stomach practically took over. Without hesitation, he ran around the corner, determined to find the front entrance. No way was he passing up a chance to eat especially not when he was so brutally lost.
"You're late, Choso."
Toji said, not even bothering to look up from whatever he was doing. "Sukuna was looking for ya."
"I was out for 30 seconds... fucks sake."
Toji shrugged, completely indifferent. "I know. Go tell that to him."
"Fuck my life..." Choso exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair before he slowly made his way to the counter. Every step felt like a hundred miles. The kitchen was eerily quiet, which only made his nerves worse. He'd been through a lot before, but having Sukuna specifically looking for him? It was always a new level of terrifying.
"...Sukuna?" Choso called out cautiously, his voice unwavering despite the anxiety clawing at his gut. "You called for me?"
Just as Choso's panic started to spiral, an arm wrapped around his waist, yanking him back against a solid chest. Before he could even react, a soft peck landed on his ear.
His blood ran cold.
"Choso..."
The voice was low, dark—the kind that made the air feel heavier.
"I was calling for you...to fill in for me," Sukuna murmured, his grip tightening slightly. "But you weren't there."
Choso swallowed hard.
"The one fucking time I need you, and you're nowhere to be found." Sukuna's tone grew even darker, his annoyance seeping into every word. Then, his voice snapped into a full-on snarl.
"AND NOW I LOST THAT CUSTOMER WITH A BIG ASS!"
"W-Why the hell didn't you get Toji to fill in for you?! Are you stupid?"
"......"
"S-Sukuna, wait—I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"
The last thing Choso saw was Sukuna practically flying at him.
Toji sighed heavily and pulled out his phone, ignoring the weird wet clapping noises echoing from the kitchen. He winced slightly but didn't seem all that bothered by it.
"Shoko, when can I resign from this hellhole? It's too ghetto here." he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he tapped the screen.
The sound of a muffled voice came through the phone, followed by a few unintelligible words "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bitch."
He hung up.
"So this is the restaurant that guy was talking about. Neat." Cemilo grinned, squinting up at the sign above the door: SUKUNA'S MALEVOLENT KITCHEN.
He tilted his head. "Ohhh, so that's what SMK stands for..."
Ah, yes.
No Tahudi. No random boulders trying to flatten him. No prune juice bandit.
JUST food.
Cem pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking around. The place was...eerily empty. The lights flickered above, and the sound of sizzling could be heard. 'Maybe it's closed?' he wondered. But then again, it didn't seem locked.
"Maybe I'm just very early?" he stated but it sounded more like a question, his voice echoing in the silent room.
The air was thick with an oddly pungent smell—probably the kind of scent that never quite leaves a restaurant, even when it's closed.
He took a few cautions steps further inside.
Cem glanced around skeptically, until he heard some strange, muffled sounds coming from somewhere behind the kitchen door. He couldn't quite make it out, but the words sounded off.
Few minutes passed, and Cem's order was still nowhere in sight.
He tapped his fingers against the counter impatiently, his stomach growling louder in protest.
From the kitchen, the muffled sounds he had noticed earlier seemed to be getting louder, until coming to a halt.
"H-Hello? Can I get my order?" Food was he top priority right now.
"Yes, welcome to SMK. What can I get you?"
Cem blinked, startled. He hadn't seen anyone behind the counter until now.
Sukuna was suddenly standing there casually, with a closed eye smile.
"Oh, well, that was fast."
Ryomen Sukuna opened his eyes, amusement flickering across his face as he gave Cemilo a slow once-over. "Indeed." he mused. "Perhaps you want a steak...?" His voice trailed off, his gaze lingering just a second too long. Wait a minute—
Young.
Male.
Slender.
Smooth skin?!
"I KNOW A TWINK WHEN I SEE ONE" he snarled in delight.
"What-"
"You."
"Me?"
"You work for me now." He stated as a fact and no room for argument.
"....."
"Okay, but can I get my ord-"
"CHOSO!!! BRING THIS GUY AN APRON!!"
Before Cem could say shit, a very irritated Choso emerged from the back, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him into the kitchen.
"What the hell, kid? I thought I told you not to come here," Choso grumbled, visibly annoyed.
Cem, now being forcibly inducted into chaos, stumbled, trying to regain his footing. "Sorry? I was hungry and thought this was a damn restaurant. Guess I was mistaken." He sighed dramatically. "Trouble always seems to find me. Or maybe it's the other way around."
Choso shot him a look that could kill. "Idiot. This is not a regular restaurant. You've stepped into hell itself."
Cemilo huffed.
"It can't be that bad..." he chuckles, catching the apron Choso tossed at his chest. He dusted it off and slipped it on, tying it neatly. "And besides- I get free food!" He said cheerfully—until the unwanted flashbacks hit.
...Maybe he shouldn’t be so happy.
"Ah, well, welcome to hell."
"Don't say it like that...!"
End of flash back.
"Kid, please! I’m begging you! Let me out of here!" The woman thrashed in the chair, her wrists raw from struggling against the tight ropes. Tears streamed down her face, her voice cracking with sheer desperation.
Cemilo hesitated, his stomach twisting.
He hated this.
"...Sorry, but I wish I could," he muttered, before he reaching forward and pulling the gag back over her mouth.
"MMPH?!?!"
Her muffled screams filled the room, but Cem already tuned them out.
"NEW GUY, GET OVER HERE!!" Sukuna’s voice bellowed from the kitchen.
Cem sighed, straightening up. Without a second glance, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut. The woman’s terrified screams and frantic kicks faded as the door clicked into place.
Oh well.
A/N: I'm so tuff fr