𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

PART TEN; THE CURIOSITY

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ー muzan kibutsuji

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ー kokushibo

    MUZAN had lived for many years, and because of that, he had amassed great wealth and knowledge that he then used to further his plans of obtaining what he wanted: which was, in simple terms, the perfect and unchanging body that would allow him the ability to walk in the sun. Having to hide himself away at night was vulgar, in his opinion—it meant he had an exploitable weakness and wasn't eternal.

It meant he could still die.

His goal of finding the Blue-Spider Lily to obtain such a perfect body was the reason he filtrated his blood to those he knew would serve him.

He found the thought of his blood being shared with others quite abhorrent since he equated everyone else to be below him, but at the same time, he wished to know if the more blood he processed throughout humanity, the more it would be likely to find a demon that would mutate in such a way that they would be able to withstand the sunlight. And if such a demon were to be created, he would devour them completely to assimilate their resistance.

Yet, every time he was met with failure.

Not even his Twelve Kizuki, the most powerful group of demons second to him, had the ability to walk in the sun.

Muzan's eyes narrowed.

Currently within the winding space of his Infinity Fortress sitting on a plush red-velvet chair adorned with oak framing on a raised tatami-matted platform, Muzan propped his head up with his left fist while his right hand rested against the arm of the chair. Tapping his finger in an incessant manner against the wooden structure, his frown only deepened when thinking of his second interaction with Kokushibo only a few hours ago.

He kneeled before Muzan as always.

He claimed to have carried out his order with exact precision.

His thoughts never wavered.

Because of that, Muzan tasked him to travel further North in search of the Blue-Spider Lily on the hypothesis that the elusive flower grew in more colder climates compared to warmer ones.

Silence surrounded Muzan.

But just as quickly, everything around the demon progenitor darkened and trembled as his rage simmered and boiled. Kokushibo had lied to him—had stared him straight in the eyes as if he were mocking him. And if there was one thing Muzan could not stand, it was the very idea of being looked down upon—unknown to him, his inflated ego and delusional sense of self worth would not allow it.

    "Nakime," he called out to the biwa demoness as he stood up from the chair, his fingers twitching.

    "Yes, Lord Muzan?" She replied with a strum of her instrument, revealing herself on a different raised platform to be a pale young woman donning a plain black kimono, her face obscured by the bangs of her long, dark brown hair.

"Take me there."

From his blood that ran through her veins, his command was clear to Nakime. Raising the bachi pick, she strummed her biwa so that a clear, resounding twang rang throughout the space. In an instant, Muzan disappeared to the surface as multiple doors slid closed behind him. From the small instance when he had been able to peer into Kokushibo's mind, he had seen a glimpse of the village that the human frequented and lived by.

And he knew exactly where that was.

The night sky seemed to blacken with his presence, dark grey clouds moving to cover the light of the moon so that it was believed that all hope was now gone. And in technicality, it was, for Muzan had one purpose in being there: to kill the human.

He would have to punish Kokushibo later.

For as much as Muzan loathed admitting it, it would be a disadvantage for him to kill off his strongest Upper Moon second to him. Not only that, but Kokushibo had served him well in bringing him the head of one of the Demon Slayer Corps leaders and in helping him completely eradicate those that learned the wretched form of Sun Breathing. Curling his fingers into fists, veins scrawling across his pale skin, Muzan stopped before the sliding door that would lead inside the human's house.

She was becoming a distraction.

A distraction he would not stand for, especially from a loathsome creature like a human.

She was weak.

Pitiful.

Absolutely nothing.

Sliding open the door and stepping inside, not even bothering to remove his shoes despite the tatami-matted floor, Muzan glanced around the small space, his expression morphing into a scowl of clear distaste. Moving further inside, he then finally found the human sitting on a zabuton at a low table, staring blankly at nothing while the cup of tea in her hand slowly turned cold.

Muzan frowned.

He couldn't believe a feeble-looking human like her had managed to steer his deadliest Upper Moon into a spiraling distraction.

(Y/N) finally noticed Muzan, her eyes widening when taking in his red, cat-like eyes and the expression of disgust along his expression, having a feeling that she knew exactly who this man was. However, at the same time, she didn't want to believe it considering she would then not be able to live past that night.

"You're Kokushibo's master, aren't you?" She murmured softly, scratching at the polished clay of her tea cup. "Are you here to kill me?"

"You're a perceptive human, aren't you?" Muzan hummed as he stepped closer to her, his eyes practically glowing in the darkness of the room. "You're very existence is repulsive to me, so I have no choice in disposing of you."

(Y/N) gave a dry chuckle.

She had heard those words before.

"If you must kill me, then I will not try to stop you," she shook her head, smiling up at Muzan without an ounce of fear. "All I ask is that my death be painless, if you can."

His brow twitched.

Something was off with this human.

Very off.

Yet, at the same time, his curiosity in her strange demeanor couldn't help but grow.

つづく | to be continued