To say Miryoku was calm and cold as steel would be an utter lie.
He slowly lifted the black cloth covering his eyes with the slightest tremble of his hands. He saw the Infinity Castle warp in his vision at just the single thrum of a biwa echoing in his ears. His eyes scoured over the constant and infinite turns of the room swirling beneath his feet and above his head. The dim lighting barely gave small glimpses into the void threatening to swallow him. Dark shadows threatening to crawl from the far corners thickened the already unswallowable tension. The wooden floorboards and walls the color of spoiled blood. The dimension creaking and groaning insistently all around, like a train refusing to start its engine, gave him half a mind to sit up from his current lounging against the staircase railing. He plopped his feet on the step below him, a resounding thud booming throughout the unbearable silence, and stood up straight. He was alone for the moment. He needed to join the others.
He pocketed his duduk in his robes. Then, without care, without fear, Miryoku leaped from where he stood and dove straight into an abyss. He fell through what felt hundreds, thousands, of miles through the twists and turns of rooms, buildings, flickering lights of the damned, letting the vicious wind whip through his once-pristine silver hair. Soon, it all gave away to an open area of deep crystal blue. An ombre, a gradient, of rich blue, teal warm green, and flowers sprinkled like glitter opened before him. Standing in the middle of this land flooded with water and barren of the alternate dimension he had grown accustom to was a large castle. Wooden pathways stretched and elongated for miles before his journey continued.
He twisted through a narrow opening, the colors of the ocean giving away and retreating with a hiss, and landed deftly on his feet. Where there had been some sort of semblance of light, of any living creature that could be around him, was only nothing. For a moment, he stood in a yellow spotlight surrounded by pitch blackness. Though, he did not move when it shifted to perfect cubes of yellow and transported him somewhere far, far away. At which a speed that ruffled his hair, tore at his clothes, and forced him to snatch his duduk from the air trying to flee.
He watched doors burst with a bang, slid open before him, in quick succession one after the other until his tower of cubes rose higher and higher above the dimension itself. His eyes wandered calmly over the mountains of columns of black embroidered with gold sticking out of the seemingly endless ceiling with a singular white light poking out its head.
THRUM!
Then... he had arrived.
Miryoku's eyes shifted lazily to the Biwa Demon sitting nearby on a higher platform from him. Her bachi pick was held firmly in her two-finger grip. Her biwa cradled to her body with the utmost care. Her smile, the corners quirked just slightly, held no kindness. Better yet, they never held any emotion from what he's noticed the past few times he's seen her. She was stuck up as a stick in someone's ass. Never bothered to perform in his erotic roleplays either.
His eyes landed on his... companion beside him. Akaza stared at the Biwa Demon with a visible frightened expression. Or was it annoyance? Sheer shock? Surprise? He couldn't tell among the raging emotions conflicting and plaguing his face with lines that do his handsomeness no good. He had enough of those blue tattoo lines to begin with anyway.
The last of her strummed cords vibrated through the air and settled an uneasy ring through the darkness. What became perfectly clear as soon as the last ringing dissipated was the even number of demons standing between them. Or, should Miryoku say, the number of demons plus a flowery decorated porcelain vase sitting nearby under a small canopy.
"Well, well, if it isn't you, Lord Akaza! And the dashing Lord Miryoku if I do say so myself!" The most unfortunate of voices pierced through the heavy silence with a maddening giggle, an echo in its confinement. He would've been flattered if it had been from any other demon, even from a human at that.
The vase shook with anticipation. The black liquid inside gurgled and churned with every movement, with every tremble and tremor, that was made. They watched as 2 pairs of thick pale hands, fingernails painted in deep red, grasp the edges of their home and pop their head out. Appearing from within was the grotesque, abstracted, Miryoku would barely say humanoid, appearance. A muscular armless torso with infant-like hands running along his back and head. A long tail of black connecting his legless lower body to his vase. Two large, distorted mouths of deep green replaced where his eyes should've been but eyes have replaced where his fore-head and mouth should've been.
UPPER RANK 5
"Gyokko," Miryoku hesitated to greet him. He didn't bother to hide the flash of disgust on his face.
Gyokko fixated his attention on Akaza instead, giggling and swooning, "So lovely to see you in such good health! What has it been, 90 years? The thought that you might've perished made my heart sing-!" He quickly cleared his throat at the bastard words he barely realized he had been speaking. A jab. "It made my worried heart fill with anguish!" He finished instead.
Miryoku raised an eyebrow in Akaza's direction. He clearly looked unamused. The sting of being harmed by a human not even of Hashira status must still be a fresh wound. He, instead, relished in the idea.
A creak.
Miryoku sharply turned at the sound of the slightest creak that no mere human would've been able to detect. Cowering in the darkness of the staircase nearby, small, frail yet sharp-clawed hands clasping desperately, trembling, to the railing, a small figure spoke up from behind the bars shakily, "Terrifying! Terrifying! In the time we've been apart, you've even forgotten how to count, Gyokko. It's been a 113 years since we were last summoned."
Short, frail, a very thin body that resembled a skeletal slowly popped its head up from beneath the banister. Disgusting wrinkles and veins lined over its crouching body, a large bump the size of a boulder decorated the top of its head, two curved horns on either side of it. Face sharp and always etched with fear and terror. No visible pupils could be seen beneath the rigid brow in its squinting eyes but it needed no introduction.
UPPER RANK 4
Akaza ignored Hantengu and looked up to the Biwa demon instead. "Biwa Woman!" He called for her. "Is Lord Muzan not here?"
THRUM!
A single thrum of her biwa answered him. "He has not yet arrived," She formally spoke.
Miryoku sighed and crossed his arms, already feeling a bit bored. "Has Upper One made an appearance too? I don't see him anywhere," He sighed out casually raising his hands behind his head.
"Don't tell me he's been killed," Akaza suddenly spat without a hint of humor.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up a second, will you, Lord Akaza?"
The unmistakable voice that could be foolishly construed as friendly joining theirs grabbed their attention. He slowly turned his head and found a trail of lights flickering in and out of existence before finally giving up. Nothing but pitch blackness rose behind him. A clawed hand reached out from the abyss moving to grab hold of Akaza's shoulder. "Aren't you even a little bit worried about me? You don't know how dreadfully worried I was, since you all are cherished comrades of mine!" His hand landed and squeezed that of Akaza. An eye twitched at the feel of his unwanted touch. "And I'd be heartbroken if I lost any of my comrades."
Miryoku maintained his stance. Maintained his cool. The appearance of Doma saddling up to Akaza, his lips teasingly running near his ear, a flash of a mischievous smirk at the sight and feel of Akaza's tense and rigid body making him glow with glee.
UPPER RANK 2
Doma finally looked around and gave them all a friendly wave with a wide smile. "Long time no see, Gyokko! Is that a brand-new pot? It's a beauty!" He gasped staring at the vase with extreme care. "You know the new pot you gave me? I'm displaying a woman's head in it! In my room."
He spoke as if having a chatter among friends who haven't seen each other for years. His hands tapped gently against Akaza's shoulder, his fingers thrumming lightly, his arm close to encapsulating him in his grip, not caring nor noticing the veins, the lines, forming on his face, the fists raging at his side, the eyelids popping vessels of blood from just the mere touch and proximity of him.
Gyokko gave Doma a head quirk. "That wasn't its intended use. But I do find it intriguing!"
"Listen! You should come over to my place sometime. You too, Miryoku! It's time we have a proper celebration for joining the Upper Ranks," Doma volunteered with a wide smile, his rainbow gradient irises sparkling with an invitation that wouldn't allow refusal.
"Get off."
A quiet sinister voice penetrated through.
"Huh?" Doma grunted whirling his head to his side.
Akaza's eyes glowered heavily under his reddened eyelashes. "Get your hand off me!" He demanded and swung out a fist.
A spectacle of blood, the shatter of bones, and the flesh of meat spilling over and staining the once crisp floorboard followed immediately after. Hantengu squealed in fright at such a display, clasping his hands over his head, at the sight of blood dripping from the fist of Akaza. It had been nonchalant. Casual. Akaza didn't waver and simply kept his fist up not even bothering to look back at the massacre he created. Doma's entire lower jaw had been severed off and dripped with gallons of crimson red. Yet he didn't seem fazed at all.
Instead he looked absolutely amused.
"Whoa!" He gasped running a soft hand over where his mouth had been. In a mere instant, what had been lost had been regenerated. He turned his aggressor, his wide smile baring his fangs even more, and purred, "Wow, that was some punch. A bit stronger than before, would you say, Lord Akaza?"
Akaza's face twitched even harder. The madness in his eyes deepened.
"I summoned Upper One here first," The Biwa Demon suddenly announced just as coarse as ever. "Even now he's listening to us."
Akaza twisted around in horror. The suddenly unveilment of information, at the arrival of a demon that had been there long before any of them, turned their bones to icicles. Even Miryoku hadn't detected his presence. It... unnerved him.
"I've been here the entire time. Lord Muzan has arrived," A voice, deep and bridled, resounded throughout like a theater.
All it took was a single sentence. Nothing more than a fleeting passage of words strung together to force them all on their hands and knees. Once again, detection had not been Miryoku's strong suit on that fateful hour. Had not noticed his master and his laboratory of red dotted rings circling and illuminating the blackened ceiling. Dancing along and displaying the vials, beakers, test tubes, petri dishes, and pages strewn across the brown wooden table. The concentration in plum, cat-slit pupils as he poured careful drops one by one at a time.
"Gyutaro is no longer with us. Meaning the Upper Ranks are now incomplete," Master Muzan spoke as if reading off a menu in a nearby restaurant pondering what to consume for breakfast. He poured another drop of liquid and carefully swirled it in the test tube cradled in his fingertips.
Doma smiled widely at the ceiling, at his master seemingly working upside down in their labyrinth, and called, "Is that true, my lord? You have my sincerest apologies! Since I was the one who brought Gyutaro in. How can I atone for this embarrassment?" His eyes widened at the possibilities. He held no shame, just excitement at the punishments he recommended for himself, "Shall I... gouge out my eyeballs? Or shall I-"
"I have no need for your wretched eyeballs."
It commanded silence. The fury that was being held back slipped out in a venomous tone in nothing more than barely above a hushed whisper.
"I knew that Gyutaro would be defeated. As expected, Daki proved to be his weakness," He started to explain writing notes in a book placed on a stand nearby with a black pen decorated with a warm purple flower. "Had Gyutaro fought alone from the start, he would've won. If the battle hadn't gone on after he'd poisoned them. Oh well. It doesn't matter anymore."
Miryoku tried to hide his amusement. His lips twitched with anticipation at the battle that must've been fought long and hard only for it end up being completely worthless in the end. His Marechi, his beautiful delicious Dragon Breather, had stumped Lower Rank One and now has defeated Gyutaro in a battle he was afraid he would never see her again. Afraid to never take a mere a delectable drink at the iron-rich, alluring smell pumping through her veins, her arteries, through the fiery green of anger and determination in her eyes. He should've thought better of her. Should've never underestimated her. Now... she is his. She has to be.
"How worthless. Can't you see you're falling in order of who has the most of their humanity remaining?" Master Muzan continued in what sounded as pure disappointment. Hantengu held his hands over his head in mercy, small cries spilling from his saggy lips. "But neither does that matter anymore. I expect nothing of you all."
The Infinity Castle started to groan and creak with the fury swirling inside Master Muzan.
Doma lifted his head and offered a solemn smile. "There you go again with the melancholic words. Has there ever been a time when I didn't meet your expectations?" He asked softly probing for any sort of compliment, or response at all.
Master Muzan regarded him with a cold, chilly look that would freeze over hell. "You still haven't annihilated the Ubuyashiki Family. What about the Blue Spider Lily?"
Akaza's hands clenched and smashed the floorboard beneath it in small cracks. A purposeful stab at his failure.
Master Muzan joined two test tubes together. Their liquids sloshed together to only form... a murky, disappointing brown.
He unexpectedly slammed his hands against the table. The vibration scattered across destroying every single shard of his laboratory into thousand of times. Glass rained down among them in a hazardous snow nicking and biting at their skin already healing in just an instant after. The red circular lights became dislodged from their places, electricity sparking and spraying out in uncontrollable jolts at the wrath and savagery.
His voice, demonic, powerful, surged with an emotion that Miryoku couldn't find the words. "Why can't you find it after so many hundreds of years? I'm... starting to question why you all even exist," He growled. Even without the singular raise of his voice, it sent them all reeling.
"Oh! Please forgive us! I beg of you!" Hantengu groveled pathetically.
Akaza hadn't moved but the slightest gulp showed his fear.
"I don't know what to tell you," Upper One started to speak from beyond the void, "Ubuyashiki... is a master at concealing himself."
Doma shrugged and lazily swayed side to side with a lopsided grin. "Search and detection isn't my strong suit, either. I'm at my wits' end," He offered half-heartedly.
"Lord Muzan! Not me!" Gyokko shrieked in excitement clasping his baby hands together in joy. "I've acquired some information that will bring you a step closer to your goals! A mere moment ago-"
Blood dripped in front of Miryoku in an inconsistent and heavy drops. His face twitched slightly at the stickiness splashing across his face.
"The one thing I dislike is change. Changes in circumstances. Physical changes. Emotional changes," Master Muzan said now holding the bodiless Gyokko in his outstretched hand. His vase had been discarded where it sat, the long tail of black laying limp. His face did not hold any wrinkles or any semblance of emotion. "In most cases, change of any kind means degradation. It's decay. I prefer the unchanging. A perfect unchanging state that lasts forever.
Even decapitated, Gyokko only expressed excitement and amour with the blush on his cheeks giving away his true thoughts.
Master Muzan clapped a tight hand over his face. He tried to conceal the ferocity darkening every single feature of his. Every single shadow caressing the sharp corners. "For the first time in 113 years, an Upper Rank has been killed... and my frustration has reached a boiling point! Don't ever give me unconfirmed information! And wipe that smirk off of your face!" He seethed mercilessly.
THRUM!
Gyokko's head started to free fall back toward the ground and slammed carelessly into the wood.
"I'd advise you all to apply yourselves with more desperate urgency from now on. I've been far too lenient considering your failures... all because of your status as Upper Ranks," Master Muzan started to command once again regaining his stoic composure. "Gyokko, once you've confirmed that information, head over there with Hantengu."
Just like that, with his final demand, his laboratory was closed off and he was no more. The air, the thickness, the feeling of not being able to breathe, still lingered in the air like putrid sewer lines.
"Understood, my lord!" Hantengu cried to no one.
Gyokko frowned at the partnership flailing and flopping on his hands and arms too small for his head. "That's hardly fair! I'm the one who got the information in the first place! How annoying is that?" He complained like a child whose toy was taken away. Though, his face turned a bright cherry red staring into where master had been. "But that's what makes it intriguing!"
A small disgruntled noise fell from his lips at his visitor. Doma stared down at him with a romantic smile that could make any man or woman swoon. "Lord Gyokko! What kind of information do you have?" He asked sweetly. He grasped his head and stared into his eyes. "I'd like to tag along."
Gyokko looked awkward. "No, that wouldn't be..."
Heavy, deliberately slow, menacing steps started to approach Doma from behind.
"Can't you let me in on it? Please, I'm begging-"
The top of his head was sliced clean off.
Akaza towered over Doma's kneeling body with a look of pure disdain. His hand once again was stained a deep crimson red. A sneer stretched his lips. "Did Lord Muzan give you any orders? Get lost!" He scoffed.
Just as quick, just as Miryoku had begun to think about blinking just a small fraction of the way, Akaza's hand fell clean from his arm with a resounding boom.
Hantengu cried and coward even more from where he sat, but that time Miryoku couldn't blame him. His heart jumped in his chest, the palms of his hands creased with sweat, his teeth grinding so harshly he felt them crack in his mouth, the sound echoing in his skull, at the sight, at the unexpected arrival of Upper One now standing just beside the stone-cold, fearful, wide-eyed Akaza.
"Akaza... You always go too far," Upper One threatened without the raise of his voice.
Doma merely shrugged from where he sat. The blood vessels in his head had already finished reconstructing his once-perfect face. "It's all right, Lord Kokushibo. I don't mind in the least," He sighed with a grin.
Kokushibo's sword snapped back into its sheathe with a resounding clink. "It's not for your benefit that I speak. Disrupting the hierarchy... which, in turn, undermines subordination. That's what dismays me," He said coldly, quietly.
Doma's smiling face suddenly brightened into a realization. His wide-eye gaze looked innocent as he flashed a two-finger peace sign. "Oh, is that right? I see," He giggled.
"Akaza. If you're disgruntled, you should battle for replacement," Kokushibo recommended without any warmth.
Doma merely waved it away with a laugh. "Well, well! If I may, Lord Kokushibo, even if he were to challenge us, Lord Akaza could never defeat us. And in my case, since I became a demon after Lord Akaza yet was promoted before him, I'd be angry, too, if I were in his shoes. Don't be so hard on him!" He spoke antagonizingly and even crawled on his knees towards his companion. Then he sat back gleefully on his rear. "And besides, I didn't dodge the blow on purpose. It's just a little harmless horseplay! This is how you nurture friendship, you know. Those of us on top shouldn't give our subordinates a hard time. Don't you think-"
"Akaza!"
Akaza flinched at his name. His muscles grew even more tense than they had been with Master Muzan. He didn't dare look in Kokushibo's way, not as he turned all three pairs of red-sclera, black pupil, and yellow iris gaze of penetration on the demon. His spiky black hair with red tips held in a ponytail framed his muscular face. Marks resembling burning flames stretched from the top left part and bottom right part of his face. He wielded a sword at his side, sheathed its in fleshy scabbard, his poise dignified and majestic. Cruel and beautiful all at once.
UPPER RANK ONE
"Do you understand... what it is... I'm trying to say?" He hissed beneath his breath.
Akaza swallowed his anger and pride. "I understand," He spat. But he turned his head to face the demon with a malicious gaze. "I'm going to kill you if it's the last thing I do."
Kokushibo merely took a step away. Unbothered. Not faltering. "Is that right?" He mused. "Then do your best."
Then, he vanished into thin air leaving nothing in his wake but terror.
"Goodbye, Lord Kokushibo!" Doma said excitedly with the wave of his hand. Then his face once again fell into solemness. "It kind of feels like I got shut out of the conversation. But that's just me overthinking it, right, Lord Akaza?" He asked his raging companion but Akaza merely took off without an answer leaving him nothing but his thoughts. "Lord Akaza! I was talking to you," He huffed sadly.
Miryoku tapped an impatient finger against his arm releasing a small sigh.
Gyokko raced forward on his hands and addressed the Biwa Demon, speaking, "Please send Hantengu and myself to the same location!"
THRUM!
Then, there was only two.
"Wait, can you send me too?" Doma asked but they were gone already. "Miryoku! Let's have some drinks!" He recommended trying to sling an arm over his shoulders with an excited smile. Miryoku only regarded him with distaste. He stood and waved a hand to the Biwa Demon. "Hey, Biwa Lady! If you're interested, would you join us for-"
"I respectfully decline."
THRUM!
Miryoku no longer found himself in the Infinity Castle but in his home. All by himself. Thank god for that. Miryoku laid back against his bed and removed the cloth from his face. His vision enhanced tenfold nearly blinding him from just the moonlight threatening to streak in. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and laid his duduk on the table stand beside him. He would only discard it for just the night. The encounter with Master Muzan and his fellow Upper Ranks drained him completely.
Yet, the thought of seeing the Marechi again, his perfect Dragon Breather, kept him going all night long with a pleasurable smile.