The Demon Queen

The Self-Imprisonment

It was another week until my wounds stopped bleeding. By this time, Muzan was covered in X-shaped scars, but they were much less painful than before. When Muzan saw the raw skin on my face beginning to dry up, preparing itself to scab over, he fell to his knees and started to cry out of relief. He repeated over and over how glad he was and kept asking me to forgive him.

I didn't know what else to do at the time but to be there beside him and repeat to him that I forgave him and wasn't angry with him. It almost seemed as if my words passed unnoticed through his ears, because he remained so fixated on apologising to me. But still, I could sense from him that yes, he did hear me every time I spoke.

As time went by, my scabs turned into scars and Muzan's scars started to fade. It took close to one year after the attack before Muzan's skin was clear and completely recovered. 

Mine, however, remained scarred, though I was lucky that the vision returned to my left eye. Not a single spot on my body was spared from the scarring, and even though the marks lightened somewhat over the year, they were still quite prominent. A slashing line crossing through my left eye. Another one crossing from my forehead and across my nose. An X-shape on my lower left cheek. Another one on my right jaw. An X crossing over my throat where, most likely, my decapitation should had been attempted.

Muzan was devastated. He didn't express it to me, but I could sense how much the scars affected him. It wasn't that he found me less attractive because of them, but that he feared I would blame him for my own feeling of losing my beauty. And for that, he felt like he failed.

I wasn't bothered by the scars. They were there, and that was that. I would have much preferred the scars to developing extra eyes or growing horns. What did bother me was that the whole situation could have been avoided, as I saw it, if only Muzan had stepped aside and let me fight the slayer named Yoriichi. 

I knew that if I had been the one to fight him, that I probably would have been able to get close enough to touch him and use my Blood Demon Art. I was convinced of that. If any of us would have broken Yoriichi's focus and concentration, it would have been me, not because I was such a terrific fighter, but because Yoriichi had an emotional reaction to be being from the Ubuyashiki clan.

But that wasn't how it happened, and no amount of thinking about it could change that. I had to restrain myself from becoming consumed by the pestering voice in my head that I would have succeeded to kill Yoriichi. Such thoughts taking up my attention would only make Muzan feel more devastated from sensing off of me that something concerning him was bothering me.

After several years, we left the temple we were staying at and moved farther up north, where we were able to find an abandoned castle. Muzan refused to leave the castle and demanded the same of me. According to him, we had to remain hidden and in safety until Yoriichi was known to be dead. Occasionally, we sent Kokushibou out to check on things, but every time he returned, he had no new information on Yoriichi. It was as if he had completely disappeared, but he was not reported to be dead.

It was exhausting staying in Muzan's "self-imprisonment", as I named it. Muzan was so paranoid about Yoriichi finding and killing us that it often gave me a headache. He always wanted us to be within sight of each other so that we wouldn't be separated if there was some ambush by the Demon Slayer Corps. Even when Kokushibou would give me sword fighting practice -- to give me something to do while closed up in the castle -- Muzan would watch from off to one side, never taking his eyes off of me.

Muzan became a brooding entity, obsessing over sheltering us from the Demon Slayer Corps and sending Kokushibou on missions to secure the Blue Spider Lily at an "emergency importance", so that the slayers couldn't somehow trap us out in the sun. Every time Kokushibou returned empty-handed, Muzan grew increasingly angry. A few times, he even used his powers to mildly attack Kokushibou as punishment for not fulfilling his task.

I was surprised that Kokushibou tolerated such treatment. Through his own devouring of humans, he soon became a very powerful demon. And if he one time left and never returned, Muzan might not have gone after him simply out of his hindering fear of Yoriichi and the Demon Slayer Corps.

"Do you want me to say something to him?" I asked Kokushibou one time as I helped heal his small wounds.

"No. I deserve it for disappointing him."

"You don't."

"It's not so bad. My father beat me when I was young sometimes. It's easier to cope with it now that I'm a demon."

I couldn't understand him, but I didn't try to force him to request I speak to Muzan about this rather barbaric treatment. I did find myself very, very disappointed in Muzan's actions. Kokushibou was incredibly loyal and without him, we might not had survived. To me, it was horrible to treat him with such unnecessary brutality. Kokushibou earned both of our trust and respect far beyond anything we would have expected. And despite everything, he was going out on his own to work on tasks that Muzan's irrational fears prevented us from doing ourselves.

I soon became able to get angry and remain angry with Muzan, regardless of how sweet and caring he would be to me after his aggressive outbursts towards Kokushibou ended.