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Demons Gearing UP

Normal POV

A few days passed, and life at the Butterfly Manor returned to its usual rhythm. Tanjirou was diligently doing his reflex training with Kanao, focused as always.

While Miyuki who had already finished was enjoying a moment of peace. 

"Muzan..." Late at night, Miyuki was sitting in the corridor, gazing out at the woods with Nezuko sprawled comfortably across my lap, her soft snores adding a gentle melody to the night.

"I wonder what he's doing..." She murmured absentmindedly, rubbing my lips as a blush crept up her cheeks. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of him. "I miss him..."

As she sat there lost in her thoughts, the scene shifted far away to a separate dimension of distorted space, where the atmosphere was anything but peaceful. 

Members of the Twelve Lower Moons gathered for a meeting in an eerie realm created by one of the Demon's Blood Arts. 

The space looked like it had been designed by someone who took the phrase "feng shui" way too literally. Everything was upside down, sideways, and possibly even backwards. 

It was enough to make anyone dizzy just looking at it.

Only the Lower Moons were present at this point, and they appeared more like a band of misfit clowns than fearsome demons. 

They shifted nervously, looking around the bizarre environment as if wondering if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

Suddenly, a woman appeared before them, wearing an extravagantly fancy kimono that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. 

The Lower Moons all squinted, trying to discern who this was, and why she had such an alarming sense of fashion.

"Who's she?" one demon whispered, leaning in towards his companion. "No idea," the other replied. "But that kimono is definitely overkill. Is it a demon fashion show today?"

"Prostrate yourselves," The woman's voice cut through their murmurs, clear and commanding, yet oddly familiar. 

The demons hurriedly complied, though not without a few awkward maneuvers. One demon nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to bow.

"Why are we bowing to a woman in a kimono again?" whispered one, trying to keep his voice low but failing miserably.

"Because that's the boss, you fool!" hissed another, elbowing him sharply. "Just bow and don't ask questions!"

It was then they realized with a jolt that it was Muzan Kibutsuji himself, disguising his usual form for reasons known only to him. Perhaps it was a dramatic flair, or maybe just a whim. 

Muzan did have a penchant for theatrics.

One particularly bold demon, clearly lacking any survival instinct, couldn't help but mumble, "What's with the outfit change? Is he going for a new look? Because it's definitely making a statement."

The Lower Moons, however, remained blissfully oblivious to the potential danger, snickering quietly amongst themselves like schoolchildren trying not to get caught.

"Silence!!" Muzan commanded, his voice carrying an edge that demanded obedience despite his current form. 

His patience finally snapped, and he sent an attack through his blood cells, a chilling reminder of his absolute power. "

After the meeting, Muzan retired to his private chamber, sinking into the plush comfort of his luxurious sofa. He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes as his thoughts drifted to Akane.