【Hold on】
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─
ㅤㅤㅤ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉
"Something feels different. This is ain't the same Villain I fought before. No, something have changed... Who are you?"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─━━━━━━⊱☪⊰━━━━━━─
In this book, is a Reader Insert fanfi...
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Muzan waited.
Every time Y/N’s consciousness fade, when her eyes fluttered open in the real world, leaving this strange in-between dimension, his prison loosened.
And that was when he could cross.
The sand beneath his bare feet felt alien; it was too warm, too alive.
The waves here moved like breathing things, touching the shore with gentle rhythm, each pulse whispering fragments of laughter and memories he did not understand.
He hated it.
He hated the warmth, the sound, the movement.
But most of all, he hated the sun.
It hung far above the horizon of her world, enormous and golden, bleeding light over everything.
It looked almost close enough to touch.
He knew, instinctively, that inside that light was her, every thought, every piece of her past, every emotion she still clung to.
And he wanted it.
He wanted to break it open, dissect it, understand what made her different, what made her strong enough to live inside and share this space with him.
Muzan stepped closer to the border between his world and hers.
Behind him, the darkness stretched endlessly; a sea of still water reflecting the pale shape of his moon, cold and silent.
Ahead of him, color bled into reality, sand glimmering like powdered gold, waves shimmering with a faint blush of rose.
He reached out.
The moment his hand brushed the air beyond the border, the light bit him.
A sizzling sound cracked through the silence.
The flesh of his palm blackened, hissed, and peeled away in smoke.
Muzan hissed between his teeth and drew back, his expression twisting, not in pain, but in fury.
The sun didn’t simply burn him. It rejected him.
He stared at his hand as it slowly regenerated, skin knitting itself back together.
“Pathetic,” he muttered, low and venomous. “Even now, this warmth dares to defy me…”
He looked up again at that radiant orb.
Inside its center, he could almost see shapes, blurred silhouettes of people.
A child’s laughter.
The scent of flowers.
Kokushibo’s deep voice murmuring something tender.
Muzan’s jaw tightened.
The light seared against his eyes, but he didn’t look away.
