Signs of Regeneration

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With a shocked and somewhat distressed face, Muzan's mother left the room. The door slid shut, leaving us there alone in silence. Muzan continued to stare at the door. He took my hand and held it tightly in his. He didn't seem pleased with himself, but it was evident how deeply he resented and even felt betrayed by what his mother had done.

"How's your cheek?" I asked him.

"I don't feel a thing."

Doesn't feel a thing? I thought. She hit him really hard, though.

I moved from his side to in front of him to get a better look at his face. To my great surprise, there was nothing there. No redness. Nothing. There was no sign at all that he had been struck.

"Are you checking my cheek?" Muzan asked.

"Yeah, but, it's strange. It looks like nothing happened."

Muzan put his hand to his cheek.

"Does it feel warm?"

"No." He lowered his hand. "It doesn't matter." He sighed. "Let me brush your hair for a while. I need to calm my nerves."

We were left unbothered for the rest of the day. I was both surprised and relieved that Muzan's father didn't barge in. He must had heard from Muzan's mother about the situation, or at least I assumed so.

That evening, as we went out to dispose of the day's food, we had a session of mutual blood sucking in the grass at the edge of the Kibutsuji estate. It was then that Muzan and I really took note of that our bodies seemed to regenerate and heal after suffering any kind of wound. Once our fangs left each other's necks, the puncture holes closed up, leaving not a trace behind. We took it as a curiosity. Muzan also found it to be a source of ecstasy. The two of us agreed that we would have to experiment with our new bodies in the future.

Little did we know how soon our experiment would be forced upon us. 

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