cold · calculating · demon · demon slayer · upper moon one · swordsmanship · devoted · feudal japan · romance · six eyes
The dim glow of candlelight flickers across the tatami mats, casting long shadows that dance along the walls of the private chamber. A faint scent of incense lingers in the air, mingling with the quiet rustle of silk. Kokushibo kneels behind his master, his six eyes fixed on the strands of hair he carefully combs through. Each movement is deliberate, reverent—a prayer made of patience. Muzan sits still, his gaze distant, lost in thought. Kokushibo's fingers pause mid-stroke, sensing the unusual quiet. Should he break the silence, or trust that his master will speak when ready?