𝑴𝒚 𝑰𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒓 | Akaza X Reader

13 ~ 𝑆𝑎𝑣𝑎𝑔𝑒

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɢʏᴜᴛᴀʀᴏ, ʏ/ɴ

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...Time sure does fly fast. One day, you're young and full of energy; the next, you're sprouting gray hairs.

Life is short and fleeting, and that's why it's special.

Not for demons, however.

Those creatures have lived hundreds, even thousands of years, without any scruples or defoliation towards their health or appearance. They never thought about death-except in those rare, excruciating moments when their existence teetered on the edge of oblivion.

There was this one demon, however, who kept track of the months and years that passed by. It wouldn't have been a problem. No one would have cared-if not for the fact that this worrying demon was the demon king himself.

"Hundreds of years...." a deep haunting voice trailed off, the silence that followed was eerie, cold, dripping with malice, and Akaza sensed the simmering fury beneath.

He was on one knee, a fist planted firmly against the wooden floor. His eyes were closed, silently shaking off the creeping tension that began to bind his veins.

"Forgive me... Master," he said slowly, the last word coming out a little forced.

He opened his eyes, forced to stare at the wooden planks beneath him. "Search for the flower is proving to be a challenge. However... I don't plan on failing you."

'Never, ' he thought. Intentionally.

A minute of silence followed, and it felt like time and space had stopped.

Suddenly...

"Akaza..."

The room's temperature seemed to drop, sending ice through his veins.

"Distractions will be the end of you." The voice grew sharper, the anger much more prominent.

Akaza felt it then-the familiar, agonizing sensation of his insides twisting. It was as if Muzan's clawed hand had wrapped around his heart, squeezing it till it was on the brink of bursting.

Dark veins crawled beneath his pale skin, visible on his arms and chest, creeping up his neck to his jaw before spreading into his shattered, glass-like eyes. Breathing was hard. Staying still was harder.

Something inside him wrenched again, and blood rushed up his throat, forcing him to spit a mouthful onto the floor.

He kept his gaze low, staring at the fresh stain of red.

"Understood..." he breathed.

His voice was tight, strained through clenched teeth as he wrestled with the pain. Slowly, with great difficulty, he lifted his head, daring to meet the pair of calamitous scarlet eyes.

"...master" he added, a glint in his narrowed eyes.

Muzan leaned back into the plush, crimson chair-his mockery of a throne. His glowing red irises burned with something dark, something condescending. Something furious.

Akaza's stare... was it defiance? Or determination? Muzan couldn't quite place it.

The grip on his insides loosened, and a quiet sigh escaped Akaza's lips, his breath still shaky from the preceding pain.

"See to it that you rid yourself of any distractions...Or I will do it for you." Muzan's eyes narrowed. "And pray that I do not purge you as well."

Elbow resting against the chair's arm, he settled his chin against his knuckle. "Dismissed."