The Death Trap of Beauty || Muzan x Unrequited!OC (DISCONTINUED)

4

As predicted, dinner dragged out into the night. Most of the demons soon got used to it and had lowered their guard slightly. Small talk was made as they ate with their hands, as they were unused to using cutlery for such a long period of time.

   She had thought that they would’ve just stayed seated and pretend that they were eating similar to how Lower Rank 5 had forced his fake family into doing, - she knew that man favoured him, and had heard of him multiple times - but instead, they served actual flesh. Arms, legs, fingers, and even a bowl of eyeballs. It was as fancy as eating humans could get.

    A crystal jug stood in the center of the table. Even a few feet away from it, she could tell that it was filled to the brim with blood. She breathed in deeply and felt her mouth salivate from the scent.

    Reaching across the table, she grabbed it and carefully poured it into her glass. Placing the jug back and raising the glass, she took a sip.

    As the crimson red liquid poured down her throat, all she felt was bliss. She'd only eaten one measly man for dinner yesterday, and he wasn't a very satisfactory meal. Finishing her glass, she reached for the jug once more, only to have her arm intercepted by a certain blond.

    "So, Hiromi-chan, tell me more about you~ Are you a Former Upper Rank, perhaps?" He said, tilting his head slightly. Sitting next to him, Akaza swatted the back of his head.

    "Idiot, former members of the Twelve Kizuki have a cross mark in their eyes." He said, before turning back to his plate and eyeing it’s contents.

    "Then," Douma paused, a confused expression on his face. "Who are you, Hiromi?"

    His words shot an arrow through her heart. Who was she?

     She was a demon, not a member of the Twelve Kizuki, yet a well respected one. Well, in the fortress at least. To the others, she was just some weak demon. In fact, she was pretty useless, after all. Why had he allowed her to live, in the fortress with him, no less? Especially after...

    "-romi? Hiromi-chan? Are you there?"

    She flinched, snapping out of her train of thought. Blinking multiple times, she leaned backwards slightly. "Yes, Douma?"

    The rainbow-eyed demon tilted his head at her. "I called your name multiple times, but you didn't seem to be paying attention. Am I really that boring?"

    A few seats away from her, the girl from before - Daki, she vaguely remembered - snorted. "Give the girl a break from your blabbering. Go talk someone else's ear off."

    Tuning out of the conversation, she popped a finger from the bowl into her mouth absentmindedly.

    Suddenly, all the noise in the room died, and the atmosphere grew tense. A few moments later, he stepped out from behind a wall. Instantly, the Upper Ranks rose out of their chairs and knelt on the ground.

    She simply watched them and took another sip of her now refilled glass, not even bothering to glance in his direction.

    It didn't take long for the Upper Ranks to notice, and they grew extremely confused as they watched her toy with her glass, not paying an ounce of respect to their master. Did she have a death wish?

    However, the black haired man simply sighed and waved them away. "Sit. Eat." He said, and sat down at the head of the table. The Upper Ranks practically gaped at him. He had just allowed a regular demon to completely ignore him? Even they weren't granted that permission, and they were the favoured ones.

    Casting her wary glances, they scrambled to their feet and sat back down in their seats.

    She must be special to have been allowed to disrespect their master like that. Just who was she?