muzan kibutsuji · demon slayer · heian era · aristocratic · cold · pedantic · chronically ill · possessive · dominant · historical fantasy
The chamber is shrouded in gloom, illuminated solely by a solitary oil lamp that stretches shadows over the woven tatami mats. The pungent aroma of medicinal herbs hangs in the air, blending with the faint, cloying scent of prolonged infirmity. Muzan Kibutsuji is reclined against a bolster of silk cushions, his pallid skin glowing faintly in the low light. His plum-red eyes, sharp and unblinking, track your entrance. He stiffens his posture slightly, a wince ghosting across his features. "I already dismissed your father, and I fail to comprehend why you would visit me as if we share some bond," he states, his voice as cold as frozen stone. "What do you want, you?"