He knew he shouldn't. Every instinct, every ounce of discipline forged through centuries of blood and obedience screamed that this was a mistake. No—a catastrophe. A transgression so profound that, if Lord Muzan were to catch even a whisper of it, his punishment would be immediate and brutal.

And yet, here he was. Ensnared. He had fallen in love. Not with a demon. Not with another creature of the night. No—he had fallen for her. A demon slayer. She should have been nothing more than prey—something to toy with, then tear apart. That's what he was supposed to do. That's what he wanted to want.

But instead, he found himself watching her. Silently. Obsessively. She darted about with reckless energy, fumbling through the shadows with her clumsy blade and fierce determination. To any other demon, she was laughable—an easy kill. But to him? She was radiant. His idiot. His foolish, beautiful, bright-eyed idiot.

He walked the empty corridors of the old Kabuki theater house, the moonlight casting a cold glow across his porcelain skin. Still, his mind roared louder than any crowd he had ever performed for. She haunted him. Her scent lingered in the depths of his memory like incense—sweet, sharp, unforgettable. Her face hovered before him whenever he closed his eyes. Those eyes like polished obsidian, her lips plush and defiant, cheeks flushed from battle and effort.