"Everyone is just so sad..."
Shinobu froze in his embrace, his words echoing like an infection in her mind.
Everyone is just so sad...
The silence thickened. Her sword still trembled in his flesh. His voice, although soft, carried something deeper—a hollow honesty. She didn't pull away—not yet.
"...What do you mean?" She asked slowly, her tone laced with both fear and curiosity.
Douma blinked once. "Isn't it obvious?" He gently stepped back, allowing her blade to slide out of his body with a sickening sound—but without resistance. He didn't even glance at the wound as it knitted shut.
"I've met thousands of people." he said, rainbow colored eyes glimmering like shards of glass. "Their faces... always wore pain. Betrayal. Grief. Loneliness. Whether it was a mother losing a child or a child losing a parent... they all cried the same." He looked at her with a fragile smile. "And every time, I would offer them salvation. I would consume their sadness."
"You mean... you killed them." Shinobu said coldly.
Douma tilted his head. "Same thing, isn't it?"
She wanted to scream no!—but stopped. Something in the way he said it wasn't performative. He wasn't mocking. He truly believed it.
"How did you come to think like that?" she asked carefully. "Surely… someone must've cared for you at some point. At least you should remember..."
He blinked again. His lips parted slightly—but no words came. It was the first time she'd seen him not know what to say.
Then, he smiled.
"No one ever did. But they all pretended to. And I... mimicked them. That's what the cult wanted. A god who could reflect their desires."
Shinobu's eyes widened. "You're saying you were raised by that cult?"
He shrugged. "Raised? Owned? It's all the same. I was their idol. Their vessel of comfort. And when I became a demon, I simply... perfected it."
A long pause settled between them.
Shinobu looked at him—not as a demon, not as a murderer—but as a void in human shape. A being crafted to be worshipped, but never taught what it meant to be loved.
"…You really believe you're saving people," she whispered. "You think you're giving them peace."
Douma nodded. "Exactly! You understand me, Shinobu-chan! Isn't that wonderful?"
"No." she said, her voice brittle.
He blinked—surprised.
"It's not wonderful at all. It's heartbreaking."
Her words caught him off guard. A flicker—barely perceptible—passed through his eyes.
"...Why does that sound sad?" he murmured, almost to himself.
Then, his smile returned—gentler this time.
"I like talking to you," he said. "When you speak, it feels like something inside me… shifts."
Shinobu's hand clenched at her side. She couldn't tell if she was terrified—or pitying him. Maybe both.
"Douma." she said firmly. "If you truly want to understand people's hearts… stop consuming them."
He tilted his head again. "But if I stop… won't I be unable to fulfill my mission?"
Shinobu didn't answer. Because she knew—his mind was already twisted. Even before he became a demon.
A demon's mind was innately different from a human's. Although they were once humans, several and if not all of their humanity must have been lost in the process of becoming demons.
Well, Nezuko was an exception. She was still nice and kind.
"Then..." She hesitated. "Find another purpose to your living."
Unknown to her, immediately she said those words, something in Douma cracked. His eyes rippled imperceptibly and he disappeared in a blur.
"Wha—?"
Shinobu was stunned. She didn't expect her words to have such an effect. It was just something any human could come up with. Perhaps she was starting to see Douma—not as a demon or human, but as a rational being.
...
Over the next few days, Douma shut himself in, demanding that no other attendant except Saki could see him. Seeing that their Lord was acting strange, the followers questioned themselves. Thinking they had probably made mistakes while creating the new base.
However, for the first time, Douma didn't care about their concerns. He only secluded himself in his room, staring blankly at the butterfly hairpin on his table.
"Lord Douma, are you okay?" Saki asked, watching him with a worried gaze.
Instead of smiling as usual, Douma turned to her with a blank expression. "Is that genuine? Or a mask of pretense?"
Saki was surprised. What exactly had happened? Why wasn't the all mighty divine being smiling? What could have soured his mood? She'd never seen him have any other expression. And also, what did his question mean?
"You can't answer?" His voice sent chills down her spine. "Never mind."
He turned away, ignoring her confused and terrified expression.
Shinobu's words had stung him quite deeply. Deeper than her poison could, and finally he wasn't himself any longer.
'What is wrong...?'
He remembered. That day. The day His Lordship had appeared and made him a demon. The burning sensation of blood flowing through his scalp, the feeling of claws digging into his head.
He was supposed to feel... pain. However, he couldn't. His body and mind didn't recognize pain.
'I was born to save people.'
He always believed that. To save poor souls from their misery and sufferings.
At that moment, he suddenly felt something thrumm in his blood. A connection he never knew existed. And through this connection, he felt panic, rage... and fear.
From whom?
Daki and Gyutaro.
Instantly, his aura folded outwards.
"Hmm? Something that'd make them like this?"
He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. Inwardly, he wondered why his blood was boiling. Was it a thrill? Or something else?
He didn't know. However, he was going to find out later.