In the Bamboo Forest

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"Muzan-sama, I would like to go to the evening market tomorrow and buy some new fabrics," Tamayo said one night after Muzan and I returned home.

"You want to go to the market yourself?" Muzan asked.

"I'd like to choose the fabrics myself," she replied with her head half-way in a bow. "I have some ideas of what I would like to make, now that it's springtime, and I would rather have the opportunity to choose the fabrics myself."

I almost felt like laughing. We were going to kill her in a couple of days, yet she was planning her next sewing project. Of course, Tamayo didn't know that we set a date to kill her, but still, I found it funny.

"Now that Kokushibou-san is here to watch the castle, would you grant me such an experience, Muzan-sama?"

"Hm?" I heard Kokushibou utter from his position sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room.

Muzan smiled. "Certainly, Tamayo, we can go together to the market tomorrow evening and you may select whichever fabrics you desire."

Tamayo bowed fully to him. "Thank you, Muzan-sama."

"You may return to your quarters," Muzan said.

Once Tamayo left, Muzan turned to me. He stepped over and leant close to my ear. "We can kill her tomorrow on the way back home," he said in a low voice. "She doesn't know the way, so we can detour her into the bamboo forest and finish her off. Simple."

"But you want to buy the fabrics?" I asked him.

"Kokushibou needs some new clothes."

"Made out of what Tamayo picks out? She likes flower prints."

"I can hint at her to pick out something more suitable."

That was how Muzan and I ended up walking through the bamboo forest with Tamayo late that evening. Muzan wanted to find a place very secluded to kill her, in case for some reason due to her long-time exposure to us that her body wouldn't disintegrate as was the norm for demons when they died.

An easy place to kill her. An easy place to bury her or burn her body if necessary.

A quiet place. Silent. It was very silent. All I could hear was the sound of our footsteps.

It was too serene. It was eerie.

"Muzan." I grabbed his arm. "Let's do it now."

Suddenly, as if a jolting burst of wind had brought him here, a young man appeared in the path in front of us.

Muzan looked at the man, studying him briefly. He raised an eyebrow. "You're in our way. Move."

The man said nothing. He looked at us with a blank, emotionless face, as if he was empty and not feeling anything. No fear. No anger. No confusion. Nothing.

I then noticed the flame-like mark on the man's forehead. It was almost identical to the one Kokushibou had. In fact, he resembled Kokushibou quite a bit from what I could see of him. However, the way he held his face and his odd dark auburn-coloured hair clearly set him far apart from Kokushibou. 

I squeezed Muzan's arm. "A slayer," I said quietly to him and stepped in front of him.

I was going to kill him with my Blood Demon Art. This man ... he was sickeningly calm, as if he believed he had achieved a sort of nirvana, as if he found himself to be exceptionally gifted, and for that, the gods were shining down on him.

He reminded me of my parents.

How I utterly detested people like them.

Muzan stepped forward so that I was no longer in front of him. His eyes were still focused on the slayer. "I said to move. Are you deaf?"

A sharp, whistling breeze blew through the path. The man's long ponytail twisted and turned like a snake attached to his head. The white-and-red rectangular earrings he wore rattled in the breeze as they twisted and bumped against his jaw. The man's face remained still, completely unaffected by it all.

"I'm becoming impatient," Muzan said. "You have two choices."

The man put his hand on his sword.

"Muzan --"

"You may either step aside and open the space for us to path, or you may die."

"Muzan --"

"Which will it be?" Muzan asked smugly.

The man unsheathed his sword, staring intently at Muzan.

"Muzan," I said and stepped forward. "I'll take care of this one."

He held out his arm in front of me. "I'll do it," he said. "It's my job to handle things like this, Sakura. I'm the one that's supposed to protect you."

I got the sense that the slayer started to pay closer, deeper attention to us.

"I'm not the weakling having to hold onto you to help me walk. You know that." Ready to fight, Muzan locked his eyes on the slayer. "Let me remind you just how strong I am."

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