Demon Slayer Oneshots

☁️Zenitsu/Reader: The Rouge Ruse Part 4

Chapter 4: Scents and Sounds

After reluctantly returning to the party to reassure the guests that the mysterious crashing noise was nothing to be alarmed about, as well as helping clean the broken teacups off the floor, Zenitsu finally bowed out. It was lucky for the low evening lighting and inebriated state of the company, for his stinging red cheek went unnoticed all around, even by the maidservant.

Despite your objections Zenitsu had sent you back to your room after the incident. He told the guests that your outfit had been stained by the tea spill as well, and that you had nothing else suitable to host them in. He also was forced to convince the interim house manager to let you be for the night. Your clumsiness wouldn't be missed by these elegant guests, he said to them, and though it made him sick to his stomach to do so, he realized he was starting to catch on to how this game was played. Zenitsu internally justified himself, vowing to do something really nice for you later in order to make amends for his flagrant blasphemy.

At long last his heavy feet trudged towards his room. He was some uncomfortable mixture of tired and wired after that dangerous encounter with the Oiran. His eyelids were drooping but his heart was beating much too loudly, causing his palms to glisten with a light sheen of sweat. Even so, he let out an audible yawn, following the elegant obi of the mural down the hall, which stretched on from the first floor of the Oiran's room, wove up around the staircase on either end of the estate, and tailed off after two rooms on the second floor. He wondered briefly why the artist stopped there, rather than having it run the perimeter of the whole upstairs. Guess they ran out of that creepy red paint, he mused- almost playfully- to himself. Actually, to him, the obi's tails were rather fortunate. In this fresh and unfamiliar layout, it served as a landmark of sorts, and was how he remembered where his bedroom was.

'Three rooms down from the obi's tail on the left.' He reaffirmed in his head, counting the identical closed doors as they passed. "One... two... three." His feet came to a halt and he muscled the stubborn door open. The blonde peeked into the room in a twitchy paranoid sort of fashion, one his friends would have laughed at him for had he been in a less dire situation. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. Did he really think the Oiran was going to come finish what she started? Skulk and hunt him down in her own abode? Even for someone as anxious as Zenitsu, that scenario seemed unlikely. An Upper Moon would be smarter than that, wouldn't it? Lure a target to a remote location, then kill them; that's how it would keep from being discovered right away. ...Right?

After finding no monsters prowling amidst the bed sheets, Zenitsu flopped onto his futon in a heap. 'I'm being ridiculous.... She might not even be a demon.' Her ominous sound set off his radar, yes, but generally when he was in the presence of very powerful demons, their sound rang distinctly inhuman. There was evil radiating from their very soul, and Zenitsu shivered at the memory of the sound. It was piercing, like someone screaming in pain, but coated with a thick black dissonance of malicious intent, of hunger. The Oiran didn't sound like that. She was just scary somehow.

The young man lolled his head to the side, ready to get cozy, but noticed a small bottle on the nightstand. "Huh? What's this?" He picked it up gingerly and examined it, sparking back a memory. "Oh, right! This is the Yewder- wait, what was it called again? The lotion that F/N-chan left for me." Rotating the ruby red vial betwixt his fingers he noted the craftsmanship of the glass. It was intricately concave towards the neck and the base, not unlike fancy foreign bottles of liquor he'd seen on his visits to bigger cities. Oh, this was much too high-end for him; Zenitsu knew he had no business using something like this. But then... if he rejected your gift fully, it might hurt your feelings, and he couldn't have that. The budding demon slayer would use it once, he decided, just so he could tell you how much he liked it and still be genuine about it. He'd also be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit curious about the forbidden rituals of beautiful ladies.