Chapter Text
The tidings of the Biwa are signs of extreme trouble for those who dwell within the realms of darkness.
For a human, the sounds of the Biwa are signs of entertainment. A form of music meant for their enjoyment and happiness.
But for a demon, much more to one part of the feared Upper Moons, they are signs of submission.
Signs that they have been called by their master.
“My oh my, If it isn’t Akaza-dono~” An arm is swung over the aforementioned demon’s shoulders. The sultry, playful voice that speaks belongs to no other than Douma, the second most powerful upper moon.
“Long time no see!” He continues, getting as close to Akaza as he can. At a glance one could assume that Douma was a friendly demon given by his actions and words, but that is far from the truth.
“Get off.” Akaza speaks, his voice a low timber. He was annoyed, pissed even. Douma’s carefree attitude has always been a subject of despise for him.
“Don’t be like that Akaza-Dono,” Douma pouts, a whine threatening to fall from his lips. “We’re friends aren’t we?”
“I said…” Akaza’s voice begins to rise, anger overtaking the monotone sound it once contained. “Get.Off.”
In a matter of seconds, half of Douma’s head vanishes into thin air, leaving behind a gruesome sight. His right half rolls down the floor, and the eyes blink, seeming surprised at the situation.
“Hyo~ Douma-Dono, it seems you have already gotten yourself into a mess I see.” The fifth Upper Moon Gyokko says as he arrives. “What an exciti- *cough* I mean despairing thing to witness!” He cries, flowing freely from one pot to the next.
“Hello to you too, Gyokko!” Douma says after his body regenerates. Like magic, the gruesome scene from earlier dissapears.
“My, what a beautiful pot! Is it new?” He asks, admiring the intricate pot Gyokko resides, laced with beautiful hand-painted flowers.
“Why, yes. I got it after encountering this family in one of the southernmost villages. Such lowly beings did not deserve to house such a fine piece of ar-“
“How wonderful!” Douma cuts off, he clasps his hands together in mock delight, celebrating with fake happiness.
“Do you think you could get me a new one? The last one you gave me unfortunately broke because a girl accidentally saw the head I had planted in there… Unfortunate, really. I had to eat her right then and there!” He licks his lips, salivating at the thought.
“Why of course. Although it might take me awhile due to the-“
“Eep!” The fourth upper moon, Hantengu cries.
“Shut up.” Akaza says, once again tainting his hands with Douma’s ghastly blood.
“Whoa-“ Douma exclaims after regenerating. “What a punch!”
He then grins, eyes menacing. “It’s unfortunate that you haven’t gotten stronger over these past few years.”
Akaza glares, getting even more pissed at the demon. He chooses to ignore him, however, because no matter how many times he tries to kill him, it is futile.
A demon cannot kill another demon after all.
Only their master can.
“You’re all too noisy. Seriously, it’s hurting my ears.” A feminine voice cuts in this time. The arrogant tone clear in her words.
The grumbling siblings that compromised the entirety of Upper Moon Six, Daki and Gyutaro were always a sight to see. Their clashing appearances fascinated people, and one could wonder how the two could ever be related.
“Awwee…” Douma says, faking a pout. “Is that how you treat the one who gave you a chance in life? I’m hurt!” He pretends to be offended, dramatically flairing his arms around in despair.
Akaza could only sigh, not bothering to deal with Douma’s antics.
He turned to Nakime, the demon who controls the space they reside and asks. “Biwa woman. Where is Upper Moon 1? Surely he would have arrived.”
Nakime stays quiet, still and cold like she’s always been before responding. “Upper Moon 1… has been here… since the beginning.”
Suddenly s door snaps open and the upper moon 1, Kokushibou finally makes his appearance.
He is regal, calm, yet reeks of this intimidating aura that would horrify dozens who cross paths with him.
His low timbre is even more terrifying. “I am here.” He says, the words sending what seems to be shivers down their spines.
But Akaza has no time to marvel at Kokushibou for with another sound of the Biwa he has arrived.
Theri master. The one being closest to perfection. The one being they could never touch.
Kibutsuji Muzan.
The air stills and a cold, ruthless vibe fills the many walls of the infinite fortress.
The upper moons watch in awe at the majesty of their master.
This time around he is dressed as an aristocrat, clad in modern clothing and an odd fedora. His eyes scream evil and negativity and this time shivers do run down Akaza’s spine.
The upper moons bow down in respect to their master. They do not dare to speak for it is not their place to speak before he ever does.
He is in control. He has power over everything. Their only purpose in life is to please him and him alone.
“Two lower moons have died.” He speaks. The clarity in his voice is menacing and harsh.
“The demon slayers are still running free.” He continues. As he speaks he reads a book stained with blood. He flips the pages, absorbing the knowledge written within the sheets.
“And you have not been able to find any sign of the blue spider lily after hundreds of years.” At this point, the demons sense the growing anger that resonates within him.
Muzan is angry. Perfection was a tough journey, something that could only be achieved with the assistance of the blue spider lily.
For a thousand years he has been on an endless hunt for this flower. A flower so rare that it takes the most competent and skilled beings years to even find signs of it.
“I apologize.” Kokushibou speaks, head lowered in shame. He understands the gravity of the situation. How their incompetence has caused great inconvenience for muzan.
“Do not give me your apologies. I do not need them.” He spats. “What I need is results.”
He stands, setting his book aside to stare at his upper moons. Powerful demons who have caused deaths to hundreds and thousands of people. Yet beings who couldn’t find a single rare flower.
“How long will it take for you to find the flower? I have created each and everyone of you not to do as you please but to fulfill my desires. If none of you can do that, then you are all better of dead.”
The Upper Moons flinch, the scoldings get to them. Most of them live based on Muzan’s recognition. They live to serve him and only him. To displease him is a disgrace to their very existence.
“Well if it makes you any better…” Douma begins, head tilted to the side as if he were in deep thought.
“I do remember hearing one of my followers saying something interesting~”
As he blinks, he finds his upper torso in front of muzan’s body. He had cut him in half, the anger getting better of him.
“Make sure that whatever you are about to say is worth my time.” He spats. “If not, I’ll make sure that your head is next.”
Douma simply smiles, a crazy smile that would creep people out. “100% real! It’s a legend that the humans have been talking about lately. They’ve been praying for me to help them with it but I’m not exactly sure what they’re talking about so I usually just ignore it and eat them.”
His aloof nature is something Muzan despises, but he lets Douma continue.
“They say that when someone dies at the crack of dawn, a mysterious lady will come and guide their soul to the afterlife. I don’t remember how the legend goes though…”
He pauses, thinking to himself.
“Ah!” He exclaimes. “I remember now!”
He clears his throat, irking Muzan, but just as he is about to snap at the demon he speaks.
“When one who lives passes away,
The Lady of The Dawn shall come to play
And guide lost souls to paradise as pay
For all the sins her once lover has made…”
The room is silent. Muzan says nothing as he ponders on the words of the legend.
“Interesting.” He says after a moment of clarity.
For some reason, the words cause a pang in his many hearts, which confuse and irritate him but he pays them no mind.
If this so called Lady of The Dawn can help him find the Blue Spider Lily then he’s willing to take the risk.
“This Lady of the Dawn…” He says, turning to Douma. “Where do people see her.”
Douma lights up, pleased that Muzan isn’t angry at him.
“In the southern mountains, my Lord.”
Muzan nods, standing up and dismissing the moons with the sound of the Biwa they dissapear leaving Muzan alone.
Muzan smiles. A smile so menacing and evil that even the ever stoic Nakime feels it.
“I can feel it.” He grins, eyes swirling with a touch of crazy. “I’m getting closer to the flower and perfection.”
He laughs to himself, relishing in the sweet sound of his near success.
“And this so called Lady of The Dawn will help me get there.”