A Pretty Face (KNY x Reader Fanfic)

Chapter 15

Having Y/N around was starting to become dangerous.

Douma could no longer blend in with the public like he once used to. People would constantly stop and stare for both good and bad reasons. He didn't trust anyone anymore besides Nakime. She wasn't a good babysitter though, and could hardly keep her eyes on Y/N.

Deep down, Douma knew he was a hindrance. Lord Kibutsuji warned him of attachment issues, but he thought he'd never commit such a thing. When Y/N then turned six, he had to stop being so affectionate. It was time to get her ready for the real world and its dangers.

He had followers who looked up to him. They didn't need catering like Y/N did. Most of them had left for the night, returning to their homes and leaving a few stragglers behind. Those people would be his meal.

Speaking of meals, Y/N refused to eat her dinner. She thought the vegetables looked disgusting, picking at them with her fingers and pushing them to the side.

"I don't wanna eat it. It looks gross!" Carrots and potatoes were pushed to the edge of her plate. One baby carrot fell onto the floor. "Can I have sweets instead?"

Douma sighed, crouching to pick up the carrot that fell. "No. You need to be a big girl and eat what I give you. Don't you want to grow to be big and strong? Eating candy and sweets will stunt your growth." He picked up a small potato, bringing it to Y/N's mouth. She grimaced.

"No! I don't like—"

The door to Y/N's room opened. One of his followers, a young teenage boy, peeked from the corner. His eyes widened seeing Douma and the girl together.

"You...have a child? Does that mean—?"

Splat.

It was everywhere. The walls, floors, and Y/N's clothes were covered. Warm and crimson. She had yet to scream, staring at the slumped body.

This would be her first introduction to death. Douma didn't give a damn what dreams and aspirations that boy had. He was just someone who would never be special.

"If you don't scream or cry, I won't make you eat the carrots."

She looked back and forth between her plate and the mess on the floor. As such, she remained quiet but her eyes were wide and glossy. Her plate suddenly looked more appealing now that she didn't have to eat the carrots.

"Dad—"

"—Y/N, I'm not your father. I'm just a guardian who wants you to flourish. Now, eat the potatoes and I might give you a little candy before bed." His stern approach shocked the little girl, but his denial of their relationship made her bottom lip quiver.

Y/N was smart to not say anything else. Quietly nibbling on the small potatoes, she continued to gaze at the mushy splatter on the floor. Douma began to clean the messiest parts of it up. He would briefly glance at Y/N to see her reaction.

Her face stayed neutral. That was what he wanted, for her to become desensitized to gore and murder. Douma wouldn't dare eat his meal in front of Y/N; it would've been too much for her to understand.

When he left, and the screams started, she cowered behind her bed and clutched one of her toys. She was scared, but wouldn't shed one tear or whimper. An hour went by before she heard her door click open.

"Since you ate your dinner like I asked, here's a piece—"

"—It's okay, I don't want it. Can I go to bed now?"

He paused. Y/N never turned down sweets, no matter how full or tired she was. His mind couldn't form an answer quick enough. She had already crawled under her covers and hid beneath the sheets.

"...Okay. Goodnight, Y/N." Douma was quick to exit the room and shut her door. Something even stranger was that she didn't fuss about being left alone in the dark. She always wanted some type of light to keep her safe. This time, she didn't so much as peep as the darkness consumed her surroundings.

It was unusually quiet. Douma would usually hear people from outside mingling about, but there was nothing. Crickets could be heard easily. Their constant noise was starting to irritate him.

"What did I tell you about exposing the child to this too early?"

Douma's blood went cold. He never usually felt scared in his presence, always joking and smiling in an attempt to mask discomfort.

"Lord Kibutsuji! It's been a few years, hasn't it?" His voice was filled with excitement and joy, but it was covering up the fear he harbored within,

He was standing in a pile of bones and limbs, his eyes narrowing at the mess. One pair of shoes ruined. His anger was rising by the second.

"You agreed to keep everything quiet until she is of age. She's six. Give me a good reason on why I shouldn't slay you where you stand." He kept his hands behind his back, flexing his fingers as a way to calm his nerves. It wouldn't take much to replace Douma.

"The world wouldn't have mercy on a young child! I'm only ensuring she can mentally—"

"—You're destroying her mentally. I should've known the moment you brought her mother before an audience." Muzan sighed, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "As of right now, you're forbidden from caring for Y/N."

It felt as if the earth began to tremble beneath Douma's feet. He could only taste a hint of the anger in his master's tone. His throat clenched around nothing. Even if he had something to say, it would mean nothing.

"A mistake on my part...you're incredibly immature and conniving. You're a child yourself. Be grateful I have not stripped you of your position." Douma could only blink as Muzan walked past him, leaving bloody footprints in the direction of Y/N's room.

That was the worst day of Douma's entire life. His lord refused to let him say goodbye. Y/N remained asleep, undisturbed by the sudden shift in setting. Muzan felt nothing for the child. The only reason she was kept alive was to keep studying her blood for testing and experimenting.

He made sure she had a home in a place no one would think to find her. The Rashomon Riverbank; the poorest district around. No one would question why she lived alone. A caregiver would make sure to keep the house stocked with food a child could prepare. Muzan would set aside time to personally visit Y/N, albeit for the sole purpose of collecting blood.

It was her blood that created the entire mess.