Random Kny One Shots [Requests Closed] Hostile Pt.2 | {KokuZan}

Theme: Angst+Little Fluff

Note: Guys don’t kill me bc the fluff part isn’t KokuZan fluff 💀

Previously:

Suddenly finding the urge to talk, Kokushibo said, “…You betrayed me.. You were.. you were lying the whole time.”

Muzan laughed, a cold, fake sound. “And? Since when was I anything but hostile?”

Kokushibo felt his heart drop and he went still, barely breathing. Muzan dismissed this and stepped back a little, motioning to Nakime to bring him up to where she sat at her platform. 

“You see, this relationship nonsense is something only humans must interact with. Because it’s weak. It’s insignificant. I shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place. And besides, love isn’t something.. real. It’s people wishing they were important and so they choose to do this so called thing called ‘love,’ but it really is nothing but a flaw in human nature. People are blinded by their wants and so they convince themself they’re important to this person. Because if they’re not important to someone they’ll throw themself off a bridge—which they do if it turns out the other person clearly doesn’t care. Some people are gullible and go along with this feeling of importance, just because it makes them feel important as well, but really they’re not. They’re just small things in this whole universe. They’re not the center of the world like they like to think they are. Clearly you must’ve been hanging around humans too long with your disguises because in all your—nearly—500 years of living, you still haven’t grasped that love is nothing but a lie. And if you still believe it, then maybe this will teach you a lesson that it’s nothing you should be focusing on. Absolutely nothing. Understood?” Muzan asked, his arms crossed, as he stared down at Kokushibo. 

His speech was met by an eerie silence as Nakime didn’t dare to move and Kokushibo was stunned silent. Muzan sighed and shook his head disapprovingly. “I suppose words will not do well, now. Nakime,” he said, snapping. 

Nakime nodded, as if she’d rehearsed it many times, and plucked the strings of her biwa, teleporting both Muzan and Kokushibo to one of the other rooms in the Infinity fortress. She sighed deeply once the two were gone and her body relaxed—though she hadn’t even realized how tense it had been before. 

For one thing, she partially agreed with Muzan given how bad of an experience she’d had in the past with her husband as a human. But for another, she couldn’t help but pity Kokushibo who definitely didn’t deserve any of this. Despite what her opinions were, though, if she didn’t stand on Muzan’s side who knew what he might do.

~~~

Muzan and Kokushibo stood face to face in a large white room. There was one item in it, a single table—blindingly white just as the walls of the room were. The two demons stuck out like sore thumbs in this room as they stared at each other, unmovingly. The silence was unbearable but Kokushibo didn’t want to be the one to break it, so he waited. Finally, Muzan spoke, moving to one wall as he did. “You are going to stay in this room until I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.”

He put his hand to the wall and guided it down swiftly, cutting a line through it. He waited a beat then a door appeared and opened for Muzan to walk through. Before he left, he turned back to Kokushibo. “You cannot escape, this particular room I made myself so if you tried you would be met with an exceedingly large amount of pain in which I will not allow you to heal. So, you cannot regenerate either. I’ll be watching you as well, so don’t even think about it. If you do, I will know.”

Kokushibo didn’t respond and just continued standing, blinking, his six eyes scanning the room, unsure of what to make of it. The door closed and disappeared into the wall and then it was just Kokushibo. Kokushibo in this white room with a white table and nothing but his thoughts to comfort him. His thoughts that were currently being watched. 

All he was was watched. Eyes constantly on him. Didn’t he have six so he could keep up with everything? Where his eyes his disadvantage now? Kokushibo didn’t know. He sat down, unmoving, legs crossed, hands resting on his thighs. He waited. How would he ‘learn his lesson?’ How could he satisfy Muzan so he would be able to go out? And he wasn’t allowed to regenerate? Well no matter, he wouldn’t need to. 

Kokushibo paused. He should test it. He made a thin scratch on his palm which disappeared almost instantly. He could regenerate. He tried something a little more, a thicker wound down his arm. Again, it regenerated. And if he lost a limb? Maybe just his hand. He cut it off, swift and quick. It reattached itself and Kokushibo sighed. So he could regenerate? Was it just to scare him?

He got up and walked soundlessly towards the place he’d seen Muzan leave out of. He hesitated then let his hand drift from the highest part of the wall he could reach by simply standing, and then down, cutting a thick line down.

(Okay but like what if the room was Muzan’s flesh 💀 And, like, Kokushibo running his hand down it- K i n k y . . .)

In less then a second after he’d done that, the line was gone and Kokushibo was on the floor, clutching his stomach, tearing at his hair. Pain. He gritted his teeth and backed away from the wall. He sat in the middle of the room now, the table at his side. The pain was fading now. He understood what Muzan had meant. He couldn’t regenerate this pain. It was like an internal pain, not something he could stop by healing. He hung his head and let his hair fall from his shoulders, hanging on opposite sides of his face. Now what? He clearly couldn’t escape. Whatever he was to think about, Muzan would know. Use against him. 

Kokushibo glanced at the table. What was that for? He stood slowly, wincing at the pain that still lingered. Maybe there was always going to be a little pain until Muzan let him out. Oh well, he’d experienced worse before.. 

He sighed and put his hand on the table, picking it up easily and examining it. It was a simple one, maybe a coffee table. Wooden, light, new. What was this for? No matter, it was probably just so the room wasn’t empty. 

He put it down and turned, circling the room. He sat, his head spinning. Why, of all colors, did it have to be white? it was driving him mad. Or maybe that was the point. Kokushibo brought his knees to his chest, curling into a ball like a child. Fuck Muzan’s mindreading if he couldn’t think about anything how was he ever supposed to ‘learn his lesson,’ as his Master had said?

Kokushibo brought his hand down his face, closing his eyes and pressing his mouth into a thin line. He must replay everything that just happened. From the beginning.

What was the beginning though? The beginning of today? Of their ‘relationship?’ Of his life? Of his life as a Kokushibo? Which was it?

He shook his head. Just today. Going through everything was too much. 

So he did. Starting from.. from where, though? He had rested a bit earlier when the sun was out. Later, he’d went off and killed a couple demon slayers. Then what? At some point he’d found himself at the Infinity Fortress and had heard Muzan’s voice. He’d hid to surprise him but then he’d overheard Nakime and Muzan’s conversation. And then.. 

No, backtrack a bit. Why had he been teleported to the Infinity Fortress? Had Muzan intended him to hear the conversation or was it for a different matter? Maybe Muzan had decided to put Kokushibo in this room but he’d overheard the conversation and used it as an excuse to shove him in here? Was that it? Perhaps. He most likely would never be told.

Kokushibo sighed and lifted his head, staring at the blank wall straight ahead of him. He stood and strode forward, standing in front of the wall. He paused then stabbed his hand into his wrist, puncturing a vein. It took a half a second longer to regenerate then it did when he’d cut off his hand, before, but it was probably just the side effect of the residue of pain. He stared at the blood on his finger which dripped onto the floor. He looked at it and decided that if maybe he spread blood all over the walls, it wouldn’t be so jarring to stare at. 

Slowly, he scratched at his skin, spreading the blood all over the walls of the room until he was satisfied. He sat back down, closed his eyes, and breathed carefully, letting the irony scent of blood fill his lungs. Then he opened his eyes. His arms had healed now and he examined them. 

What was he to do now? Think more? That was all he had to do, anyways. Where had he been last? Right. The conversation. The reason Muzan had brought him here.

Muzan had spoken to Kokushibo as if he’d done something wrong. What had he said again? Something about relationship being stupid. Hm. So the fact that he’d wanted the relationship had made Muzan do this to him? Well, that wouldn’t make sense because, then again, Muzan had said something about how at first it was fine. Maybe wanting affection was weak? That’s what it sounded like, at least. 

Kokushibo sighed and pushed his head into his hands, desperate for an answer. How was he to get out of here anyways? And who knew how long Muzan would keep him here? What lesson must he learn to be free? 

His thoughts swirled in circles, creating a tornado of worries in his head. He didn’t move for a long time—could’ve been minutes, hours, days, even—and he only let himself think. Most of the time he just let his mind chose what he thought, not anything in particular he was looking for. But occasionally, he paused and resurfaced the memory of Muzan’s lecture. He’d replayed it in his head time and time again, finding himself searching for a clue of what he might need to learn. Or maybe accept.

He had an idea of what it might be, of course. All this time of thinking and if he hadn’t thought of anything he would be exceedingly stupid. He thought it might be he must learn to not want such ‘soft’ things such as affection. He was unsure if it was that or not, though, because Muzan never spoke to him. In fact, Kokushibo had no idea whether Muzan was still listening to his thoughts. 

Eventually Kokushibo decided to test it. He called out in his mind as loudly as you could possibly shout just by thinking. He tried reaching Muzan. But whether the demon lord heard him or not, he never knew. He never got an answer. It was frustrating.

Kokushibo went to one of the blood stained walls and dug his fingers down into it. He ripped at the walls, seeing how it was instantly repaired. Pain struck Kokushibo suddenly and he collapsed onto the floor. He writhed until it stopped and tried again. He found himself going through this cycle over and over again as if it would help. Break the wall. On the floor until the pain subsided. Again. Break the wall. Pain. Repeat.

He didn’t know for how long this lasted but eventually he came to the realization that the pain wasn’t fully fading. It was still there. Like a small headache at first, but all around his body. Something tolerable. And as he continued, the pain got worse. The lasting pain seemed to stay now to the point it didn’t subside at all and he was paralyzed. He teared at his own face, his arms, his body, trying to stop it. But he was weak. He hadn’t eaten in a while and he’d experienced both mental and physical pain in the last hours. Or was it days? Weeks? He didn’t know. He had no sense of time in here. 

Kokushibo pushed himself up, his whole body trembling. He used the table that he’d dragged over near the wall somewhere in the middle of all his thinking to prop himself up. One hand on the table, one hand clutching his chest. His eyes were closed. He opened them now, his whole being shaking. The blood he’s spread on the walls had sunk into them and they were once again white. He opened his mouth and screamed. The room shook—or was that himself? He fell back to the ground but got back up, ignoring the searing pain as he clutched onto the walls for support. His voice broke and he lapsed into silent sobs, his body sagging under the pressure of the pain. 

He was useless. He was never meant to date Muzan only but to be his servent. He’d escaped humanity to live longer. Only how was he living longer if this was how he must live? This wasn’t what he asked for. He’d wanted to be alive and strong. But here he was. He could hardly call this being alive when the only reason he knew he was alive was because of the pain tearing him apart. He wasn’t strong now. He was weak. Weak like Muzan had told him. He was only to serve Muzan not have him do things for Kokushibo. Kokushibo was nothing but a plaything Muzan could use as he wished. Kokushibo deserved nothing. 

And then the pain was gone and the walls disappeared. Had he died? He opened his eyes and saw he lay on tatami mats. Someone was walking towards him now. He didn’t have the strength to look. He wanted to sleep now. The demon crouched next to Kokushibo and placed a gentle hand on his back. They lifted him up carefully into a sitting position. It was Nakime. She gave him a pitying look but said nothing as she carefully helped him settle down on a futon placed on the ground for him.

She pulled the covers over his trembling body and brushed the hair sticking to his skin from sweat. Kokushibo blinked, wondering what was happening. He felt numb and couldn’t comprehend what it was. Nakime sat back and said, her voice calm, soothing, “Sleep now, you must rest while he lets you.” 

(Not a ship!!)

Kokushibo’s eyes fluttered closed and he let himself enter the world of sleep. He dreamed of his mother. When he was a child. Human. He felt calm, there, as she tucked him in his bed. She smiled at him, telling him to rest before he went back to training. He’d collapsed in exhaustion earlier and she’d had him brought to sleep. Michikatsu had been frustrated, convinced he’d be able to train more that day but her gentleness had soothed him and eventually sleep pricked his mind. As he drifted off, she whispered, “Sleep now, you must rest when you can.” 

Extra (I was going to end here but there had to be a little explanation): 

Kokushibo awoke suddenly and for a second he was confused. But then he saw Nakime looking at him urgently to move and he did. He helped her roll up the blankets and said, “What happened?”

“Master is due to come in a couple minutes.”

“Right.. Shouldn’t I still be in the room?” he asked.

Nakime shook her head. “No, he made it so you would be out once your thoughts came to the conclusion he wanted them too. I suppose you finally did.”

“Ah. How long was I in there for?”

“I suppose a week?” she said, counting off in her head. 

A week?? He’d been in there for so long.. “Thank you, Nakime..”

“I’m just doing what I was told to,” she said, bowing her head. She took her place back on her platform and waited a beat before strumming. 

Kokushibo found himself facing Muzan and he dropped into a bow, his hair slipping off his shoulders.

“Kokushibo,” the demon lord said, his voice commanding. “You have understood what you should, correct?” 

Kokushibo nodded, although he wasn’t fully sure. “Yes, lord.”

“Good.” Muzan said nothing more after that, only signaling to Nakime to take him back where he’d been before.

It was silent as the two demons left stared at the spot Muzan had just been. Neither spoke up for a long time until Kokushibo decided he should leave. 

“Ehm.. Nakime, is it night time currently?” he asked, having not an idea of what time or day it was.

“15 minutes past midnight,” she agreed. “Would you like me to bring you somewhere?”

“Please. To the house I currently reside in,” Kokushibo said. He would find some humans to eat there to regain his strength.

“Understood.”

As Nakime strummed her biwa, she gave Kokushibo one final glance and said, softly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

{Word count: 2868}

;-; it’s not necessarily KokuZan atp but I don’t ship Koku x Naki much so 😶

ly all 

my back hurts sm rn ;-; prolly cuz I’m not sitting right but ow -n-