The Demon Queen

The Crazy Biwa Woman

"How's Rui?" I asked Muzan as we went out for the night.

"He's adapting nicely," Muzan replied. "The only complication is his wanting a family for himself. It's no surprise, given how young he is."

"Well, he's not living with us, is he?"

Muzan chuckled. "Of course not. Don't be silly." He kissed me on my cheek. "I gave Rui permission to make himself a family. I taught him how to share his blood with weaker demons to make them look more like him. It'll be good, too, to amass a group of demons that fear the Demon Slayer Corps and can thank one of our servants for survival. That's why I encouraged Rui to seek out weak demons that are being threatened by lower level Demon Slayers to convert into his family members."

"Ah, okay," I said.

We dropped the subject of demons and the Demon Slayer Corps once we entered a more crowded part of the city. Blending in with the humans, we went to watch a theatre production and then went to have a couple drinks at a bar. By the time we were finished, it was getting quite late. The streets were basically empty. The people still outside were either going home or on their way to a late-night performance venue. Muzan and I drifted off to the darker, empty streets that led in the direction of the Castle.

"What do you think Kokushibou is doing right now?" Muzan asked with a snicker.

"Ahh ... are you trying to tell a joke?" I asked and lightly nudged him.

Muzan laughed. "No. I'm just thinking of how Kokushibou might be on patrol in the Castle, checking that everyone's behaving while we're away. And this image is very, very funny to me."

"He won't have much to check on. Hantengu and Gyokko are out searching for Tamayo and my projects are at the Red Light District tonight."

Muzan put his fingers to the brim of his white fedora and turned it on his head. "How disappointing," he said. "That means there's no humour to imagine for tonight."

I raised an eyebrow. I sensed the presence of a human running at us from behind.

Not a Demon Slayer, just a typical human, I thought. What a bother.

"Excuse me, my dear," Muzan said to me. He then spun around and grabbed the neck of the human that was coming at us.

I turned around to see him holding the neck of a woman in her late 20s with long, dark hair. Her bangs covered part of her eyes, but I could see the fear in her gaze. She knew right then and there that she had made a grave mistake. The knife she was holding in her right hand fell to the ground with a metallic kling as it hit the street.

"Were you coming at me with the intent to kill me?" Muzan asked the woman in a sinister tone.

The woman said nothing. She stared at Muzan with an expression somehow showing fear and apathy at the same time.

"You will answer me when I ask you a question," Muzan said.

I bent down to pick up the knife on the ground. "I don't think she can answer you if you hold her by the neck like that. She's not a demon."

"I know she's not a demon. I don't remember making her."

"You can't actually remember all of them."

Muzan was quiet for a moment. He turned his head to look at me. His forehead wrinkled.. "I remember enough of them and besides, this wench stinks of human."

"Well, yeah. Because she is."

"Of course she is. Did you really think I doubted whether she was a human or demon?"