Chapter Text
In the solitude of his room, where no one dared to enter without his permission and utmost respect, Kibutsuji Muzan immersed himself in the pursuit of knowledge. Surrounded by countless books and various items of great significance, he delved deep into the mysteries of the world, seeking treasures that would fulfill his desires.
Yet, amidst his quest for enlightenment, Muzan found himself increasingly irritated by the incessant arguments and nagging of the Upper Moon demons. Their constant presence, like an irritating buzzing in his ears, disrupted his concentration and impeded the progress of his work. His patience wore thin as he yearned for a sanctuary of peace, away from their incessant noise.
Each day, Muzan's gaze would inevitably fall upon his glass of potion, a concoction meticulously crafted from his vast reservoir of knowledge and the countless books he had studied for what seemed like an eternity. As he mixed and experimented, he sought to unlock the secrets that would grant him the power he so desperately desired. Yet, despite his efforts, he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration towards the seemingly useless items that surrounded him.
"I despise them," Muzan muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disdain. "Every single human deserves to be rotten to death. They are nothing but repulsive creatures." The venom in his words revealed the depth of his contempt for humanity, a sentiment that fueled his insatiable hunger for power.
In a moment of self-awareness, Muzan froze. He found himself laughing at his own words, the irony not lost on him. "Calm down," he scoffed, his laughter echoing in the confines of his room. The notion of finding peace and tranquility seemed foreign to him, a concept that he had long abandoned in his relentless pursuit of dominance.
But as the echoes of his laughter faded, Muzan's body suddenly jerked, colliding with the table and causing the precious potions to topple and shatter. His meticulously arranged workspace was transformed into a chaotic mess, with stains marring his once pristine attire. Frustration welled up within him, his tired mind and body unable to bear the weight of these constant mishaps.
In a fit of anger, Muzan cursed vehemently, his voice filled with exasperation. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, his words reverberating through the room. "What a pointless act of knocking over the bottles, breaking everything in its wake!" The sound of shattering glass reached the ears of the Upper Moon demons, yet they chose to ignore it, knowing better than to disturb their unpredictable and volatile master.
As Muzan surveyed the wreckage before him, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over him. The mess mirrored the chaos within his own mind, a reminder of the uncontrollable forces that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed plans. And in that moment, as he touched his waist, he felt a surge of revulsion. His body was changing, curves forming on his hips and legs, a reflection of his growing dissatisfaction.
"I despise this," Muzan seethed, his voice laced with disgust. "I detest these changes that defy my desires." The frustration within him grew, fueled by the realization of his own vulnerability. Yet, as he looked upon the disarray around him, he knew that he had no choice but to regain control and restore order to his dominion.
The room fell silent once more, the broken glass and scattered potions serving as a stark reminder of Muzan's power and the chaos that lurked beneath his composed exterior. In that moment, he vowed to rectify the mess, both within his room and within himself, for Muzan Kibutsuji would brook no interference in his relentless pursuit of dominance.
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Muzan, still focused on his work and the safety of his precious potions, paid no mind to the bickering of his Upper Moon demons. Their incessant chatter and inappropriate remarks about his body irritated him, but he chose to ignore their foolishness. However, the tension in the room continued to escalate.
Douma, ever the instigator, broke the silence with a taunting question. "So, who's going to check on him?" he asked, his voice dripping with mischief.
Akaza, clearly frustrated by Douma's antics, lashed out in response. "This is exactly why Master doesn't love you!" he retorted, his words sharp and cutting.
Kokushibo, not one to tolerate such behavior, intervened to quell the argument. "Enough!" he commanded, his voice carrying authority.
Douma, undeterred by Akaza's words, continued his taunting. "You know, Master has been going through quite the experience," he teased. "Maybe he's looking for someone who can understand his newfound femininity. Perhaps he's losing interest in the male form." Douma's flirty mannerisms and suggestive remarks left an unpleasant taste in the air.
Akaza, unable to contain his frustration any longer, delivered a powerful punch to Douma's face, silencing him momentarily. "Using our Master's name in such a manner disgusts me!" he declared, his gaze unwavering.
Kokushibo, observing the chaos unfolding before him, couldn't help but feel exasperated. "What do you mean by 'closer to his body'?" he inquired, his confusion evident.
Douma, seemingly unfazed by the blow he had received, grinned mischievously. "Oh, I'll tell you," he replied, his voice filled with a twisted sense of joy. Before he could elaborate, however, Akaza attempted to strike him again, clearly unwilling to tolerate Douma's antics any longer.
The commotion caught the attention of Hantengu, who, already overwhelmed by the heated exchange, began sobbing once more. "C-Can you all stop shouting at each other? It's scaring me," he whimpered, his voice filled with fear and distress.
Daki, accompanied by her brother Gyutaro, arrived on the scene, drawn by the sound of Hantengu's tears. Confused by the chaos, Daki questioned the meaning behind the phrase "closer body down." Gyutaro, unwilling to provide an answer, simply looked at his sister, his silence speaking volumes.
"Well, you see, it's a har-" *SMACK!* Douma's words were abruptly interrupted as a powerful punch landed squarely on his face, causing him to recoil in pain. The force behind the blow sent him staggering backward, momentarily stunned by the unexpected attack.
The room fell into a tense silence as Douma, one of the Upper Moon demons, tried to regain his composure. Blood trickled from his split lip, a testament to the force of the punch he had just received. His eyes narrowed, a mixture of surprise and anger burning within them.
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Kibutsuji Muzan, ever the enigmatic and powerful figure, paid no heed to the Upper Moon demons who whispered behind his back. In the midst of dealing with the mess he had created, Muzan found himself facing a perplexing situation. His body, once male, had undergone a transformation, altering his gender and presenting him with a new identity. The curves that adorned his form were a stark contrast to his previous self, leaving him both confused and indifferent.
Though Muzan couldn't fully comprehend the changes that had befallen him, he chose to shrug them off for the time being. There were more pressing matters at hand. His eyes turned towards the remaining potions, carefully stored in a safe place to avoid any more mishaps. The chemicals within them seemed to hold the promise of clarity, a chance to soothe his troubled mind. He reached for two bottles, their contents fizzing with potential, ensuring he handled them with utmost care so as not to create another mess.
But before he could fully immerse himself in the solace of his thoughts, his sanctuary was breached by the intrusion of the Upper Moon demons. Douma, with his gratingly cheerful voice, called out to his master, oblivious to the annoyance it caused Muzan. The audacity of barging into his room without permission irked him, making him flinch in annoyance.
"Who gave you the right to enter my room without knocking and showing proper respect?" Muzan's voice dripped with icy disdain, as he placed the potent potions down carefully, determined to avoid any further chaos.
Akaza, ever the loyal and respectful servant, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, attempting to diffuse the situation. Bowing before his master, he humbly apologized for the interruption. Muzan's glare shifted from Douma to Akaza, both Upper Moons displaying their own brand of foolishness.
"I expect nothing less than complete obedience and respect from my subordinates," Muzan's words cut through the air like a sharpened blade. "Leave my presence immediately. I have no desire to witness your footsteps in my room without my explicit permission to enter!"
Kokushibo, ever the observant one, took the opportunity to witness the unfolding drama, seemingly appearing out of thin air. Muzan's attention briefly shifted to him, his glare piercing through the room. However, his main focus remained on ensuring the safety of his precious potions, as he turned away from the Uppermoon demons. He hoped they would have the sense to heed his command and leave his room promptly.
A whistle from a cat outside the room caught Muzan's attention. He cracked his neck, his gaze turning towards the sound, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Who dares to make that sound? Who dares to disturb my solitude?" Muzan's voice thundered, his fury palpable. The three Upper Moon demons pointed at each other, each desperately trying to avoid being the target of his ire. Muzan yearned to break their lips, to unleash his wrath upon them, but he knew it was wiser to let them flee from his presence without hesitation.
In the stillness that followed, Muzan refocused his attention on his work, ensuring that his precious potions remained undisturbed. The chaos, both external and internal, threatened to consume him, yet he stood resolute, determined to maintain control over his domain.