Spider's Web || Demon Slayer

-1-

"Akaza-dono!" The tall demon shouted after his friend who quickly ran away from him. Just like before Kokushibo, Gyokko and even Hantengu. He was left alone on the platform where they had been summoned by Muzan. His rainbow eyes traveled to the last demon left in his field of vision, Nakime "Biwa Lady! If you're interested, would you join me for..."

"I respectfully decline"and with that she moved the string of her instrument.

Douma didn't even have time to blink when he found himself in the room of his cult. His expression changed from a smile to an annoyance. He didn't like that each of his demonic companions ignored him. He wasn't used to being treated like this, which left him with mixed feelings.

He sighed, resting his chin on his hand "You're all so cold to me" he frowned, muttering dissatisfied. Suddenly, however, he felt a new scent in the room he was in.

He got up from the couch and looked around every corner. He clearly felt someone's presence, but he couldn't see the source of the smell. Finally he lifted his head up. There was a hammock hanging from the ceiling, and a figure was lying on it. The white curls were clearly visible in the darkness. Douma looked up, confusion and surprise on his face. He didn't expect anyone to have the audacity to come into his room when he wasn't there and sleep on some hammock that hadn't been there before either.

"Oh! Who are you? Hey! Get up when I'm talking to you!" He tried to wake up the intruder, but he didn't even move.

Finally, he decided to reach for the hammock, standing on his tiptoes, and tore part of it. The clearly sleeping body fell to the floor with a bang, but the intruder didn't even move an eyelid, he just lay in an unnatural position under the platinum blond's legs, motionless. The rainbow-eyed demon began to wonder if the person in front of him was even alive, although he couldn't smell death from him. So he crouched in front of the stranger and leaned over him, putting his ear to the nose of the white-haired man. He sighed when he heard calm breathing. But he quickly began to shake the intruder, raising his voice and trying to wake him up. But nothing worked. Even when he slapped him in the face with an open hand.

"And what am I supposed to do with you?" he mumbled, looking at the stranger intently. He was sure that this was not a member of his cult, there was no one here with such white hair. The room was dark and they still seemed whiter than snow. So unnatural.

Douma wondered what to do with the unfamiliar intruder. So he decided to pick him up, which wasn't easy because he was surprisingly heavy, and carried him to his private bedroom where he sat the man on a chair in the corner of the room. Well, he had to admit that sleeping in a room with a guy he'd never met sitting across from the bed wasn't a pleasant thing, but he decided to sit on the bed, not intending to fall asleep with a stranger in the room. He didn't need sleep anyway. He stared at him as if he wanted to wake him up with his gaze, but like previous attempts, this too did not work. Now he could see the man more closely. Pale skin, thick eyebrows, probably as tall as the rainbow-eyed demon. His loose clothes did not allow for a precise outline of his figure, but Douma guessed that he was well built, looking at how heavy he was to carry. He was wearing a black, long haori with red stripes on the front, black loose pants, similar to those worn by Akaza, but the white-haired one wore shoes unlike the Upper 3. A white shirt that reached half of his neck and earrings with red tassels.

Days passed, but the intruder did not wake up. He slept two days, then three, then four. Douma had already tried all the methods he knew to wake up the white-haired man, and even tried those that only came to his mind. At one point, he even stabbed the guy in the leg, but he didn't open his eyes despite the bleeding wound. Douma accepted that he was probably in some kind of coma, but he hoped that it would not last long and that he would be able to ask the strange man all the questions that bothered him.