In the kitchen, the bubbling sound of boiling water broke the morning silence.
Utaha mechanically tore open a pack of instant noodles and dumped the noodles and seasoning powder into a small pot.
After that soul-stirring "exchange" this morning, she really didn't have the energy to prepare an exquisite breakfast. A bowl of steaming instant noodles was the fastest and easiest comfort she could think of at this moment.
However, a certain "tenant" clearly had some complaints about this.
"Tch."
Sukuna's voice rang out directly in her mind, carrying undisguised disdain. "It's early morning, can't you eat something nutritious? This stuff smells like it's full of additives. Also, looking at your clumsy movements, what, do you not even know basic survival skills like cooking?"
Utaha, who was stirring the noodles with chopsticks, paused at his words and retorted irritably, "What time do you think it is? How can a high school girl who needs to get to school on time and stayed up late writing a manuscript last night have so much time to leisurely prepare a nutritious breakfast? Being able to eat a hot meal is already good enough."
"Heh, excuses." Sukuna sneered.
"Of the three meals a day, breakfast is the most important, it concerns one's energy for the entire day. People of this era are becoming more and more perfunctory."
Utaha was amused by his old-fashioned, expert-like tone on nutrition, but a hint of curiosity also rose within her.
She picked up a bunch of noodles with her chopsticks, shook them in the air, and asked back with a bit of playfulness in her thoughts, "Oh? From the way you talk, breakfast a thousand years ago must have been very sophisticated, right? What did you eat? Tell me so this little girl can broaden her horizons and perhaps I can improve my 'perfunctory' eating habits."
"..."
On the other end of the consciousness connection, there was a sudden, eerie silence.
What could Sukuna say? Was he supposed to tell Utaha that his "breakfast" back then might have been at the ruins of some recently slaughtered village, where he would casually grab a still-warm, young, and fresh girl like her and eat her... brain?
That kind of "nutrition" filled with fear and despair was the ultimate delicacy for him. If he said that, the girl probably wouldn't be cooking noodles but would instead faint in the kitchen.
"...A thousand years have passed, I've long forgotten the details." Sukuna stiffly changed the subject, his tone returning to its previous laziness, but if one listened closely, it seemed to carry a hint of undetectable awkwardness.
"By the way, what is your name? You've been arguing since you woke up, and you haven't formally answered me yet."
Utaha keenly noticed his momentary speechlessness and stiff transition. She had a vague guess in her heart and couldn't help but shiver, deciding not to delve deeper into that dangerous "breakfast" topic.
She blew on the noodles and replied, "Kasumigaoka Utaha. Kasumi as in 'evening glow,' Gaoka as in... forget it, you probably don't care about that."
"Kasumigaoka..." Sukuna repeated in a low voice, his voice seemingly carrying some distant meaning as he let out a soft sigh.
This sigh caught Utaha's attention and she asked half-jokingly, "What? Do you have an impression of this surname? Could there have been a family named Kasumigaoka a thousand years ago?"
Sukuna replied bluntly, "I don't know. No impression at all."
Utaha was stunned. "Then what were you sighing about just now?"
Sukuna was silent for a moment before speaking in a tone that sounded somewhat flat, yet seemed to hide deeper emotions, "I was just reflecting... that you possess a surname."
"Huh?"
This answer was completely unexpected for Utaha.
"Possessing a surname... what's there to reflect on? Isn't that a very normal thing?"
In her view, didn't everyone have a surname?
"Normal?" Sukuna seemed to chuckle.
"In my era, only nobles possessed surnames. I didn't even have one myself. Don't tell me you think my surname is Ryomen?"
"I really thought your surname was Ryomen..."
For a moment, only the sound of Utaha slurping noodles remained in the kitchen.
However, a certain restless "tenant" clearly did not intend to let her eat in peace.
"Hey, Kasumigaoka." Sukuna's voice rang out again, breaking her brief peace with a tone of natural entitlement.
"Smelling this... it doesn't seem completely inedible. Give me a bite too."
Utaha's chopsticks, which were holding noodles, froze in mid-air. She blinked in disbelief, her pupils filled with absurdity and resistance.
"Give you... a bite too?" She almost squeezed these words through her teeth.
"How? Do you want me to take the chopsticks and poke them into my own face, into that extra mouth of yours? I won't do it! Wouldn't that look even weirder?!"
Just imagining that scene made her feel a chill, and her appetite mostly vanished.
"Tch, stubborn." Sukuna seemed very dissatisfied with her reaction.
"Who says a 'mouth' must grow on the face? I have four hands... oh, I don't right now. But I can still manage this kind of basic application."
As soon as he finished speaking, Utaha's right hand, which was about to bring the noodles to her mouth, suddenly felt a strange sensation—not pain, but a bizarre feeling of skin being forced open and reshaped.
She looked down in horror and saw a gap suddenly split open on the originally smooth skin of the back of her right hand.
The gap quickly widened, forming a... mouth.
Its outline was distinct, and the edges had fine black patterns similar to the crack on her face. What made her skin crawl even more was that the tongue inside that mouth moved flexibly, as if tasting the air, and even let out a slight "tch" sound, exactly like Sukuna's tone.
"See, isn't this fine?" Sukuna's voice carried a hint of pride, as if he were showing off some great invention.
"Eating with a hand is a bit more 'elegant' than poking it into your face, isn't it? Hurry up, the noodles are getting cold."
"No! It's disgusting! Take it back quickly!" Utaha violently shook her right hand, trying to shake the terrifying thing off her body.
The soup from the bowl splashed out onto the kitchen counter. The mouth on her hand, however, seemed to have taken root, opening and closing with her movements, its tongue still restlessly wriggling.
"What's disgusting about it? Isn't this your own hand?" Sukuna retorted, but his tone clearly carried the joy of a successful prank.
"Hurry up, I'm hungry. Or would you prefer I use the mouth on your face directly? If so, I can't guarantee how good my table manners will be. I might even lick your tongue along with it."
This threatening (or rather, harassing) remark made Utaha's whole body stiffen. At least the mouth on her face could be ignored by "closing" it, but this mouth on her hand... it was a double shock to both her vision and touch.
Choosing the lesser of two evils, she gritted her teeth, and after a fierce internal struggle, she finally succumbed.
Trembling, she picked up the chopsticks with her left hand, pinched a small amount of noodles, and extremely reluctantly and slowly extended them toward the "hungry" mouth on the back of her right hand.
"Faster, stop dawdling." Sukuna urged.
Utaha closed her eyes, steeled herself, and stuffed the noodles in.
She could clearly feel the tips of the chopsticks touching something soft and moist, and then the sensation on her hand told her that the noodles had been slurped into that mouth.
"It's actually quite tasty."
"Of course it is, look who made it."
...
"Alright, that's enough."
After eating nearly half a bowl of noodles, Sukuna finally expressed his satisfaction.
The mouth on Utaha's hand slowly closed, eventually leaving only a faint, almost invisible thin line, as if that horrific scene had never happened.
Utaha looked at her "normal" right hand, then at the remaining instant noodles in the bowl, and suddenly felt she had no appetite at all. She put down her chopsticks and sighed deeply.
She asked weakly, "Ryomen-san, in the future... can you try not to appear in such an... impactful way? Or at least, give me a heads-up?"
"Depends on my mood." Sukuna replied lazily, and a sense of satiety seemed to come from the other end of the consciousness connection.
"Next time, maybe we can try using a foot?"
"ABSOLUTELY! NOT!"
Utaha felt that her future was pitch black.