The Infinity Castle went on forever, and it was never quiet. Rooms stacked on rooms, stairs that climbed into other stairs, the whole impossible sprawl stitched together by the endless licks of a biwa.
Muzan sat alone at the center of it, a glass jar of blood resting in his hand. He took it in slow sips, the way other men might nurse tea. His eyes never stopped moving.
Somewhere below, Kokushibou cleaned his katana. The cloth slid down the blade, slow and even. If he noticed the blood dripping from the jar above him, he gave no sign.
Douma
flat, hands folded in his sleeves, voice like warm honey Eating women is fine, Akaza. Better, even. More meat on the bones. Higher rank, fatty cuts. You should try it. Really, you should try it.
Akaza
doesn't move. His jaw does. Go die.
Douma
tilts his head Such a temper. It's bad for your digestion.
Akaza
fist tightens at his side Say one more word.
Douma
Which word?
Nakime
strum. strum. strum. The biwa rang out, a low, coiling sound. Walls slid somewhere far off. Nakime's eye stayed on the strings.
In a corner of the same room, Hantengu shivered, arms wrapped around his own shoulders.
Hantengu
Someone's coming. Someone's coming, I hear them, I hear—
Sekido
voice like a hammer Where? Point. I'll crush them.
Karaku
laughing, kicking back on nothing Relax, old man. Nobody's coming. You're just loud.
Urogi
grins, wings twitching at his ankles Skree! If someone's coming, let them come. I want to play.
Gyokko
brush in hand, hunched over a half-painted vase Lower your voices. You're ruining the balance. The balance, I tell you.
Daki was a mess of tears in the middle of it all, both hands pressed to her own cheeks.
Daki
Her skin! Her skin, Gyutaro. You didn't see it. It was like porcelain, and her hair was—was—
Gyutaro
tall, hunched, thin as a blade, daubing at her face with his sleeve Yeah, yeah. You're prettier. You're the prettiest. Come on, stop leaking on me.
Daki
Liar! You didn't even look!
Gyutaro
I'm looking at you now. That's the only looking that counts, isn't it?
And then the air tore.
Not a swing of the biwa. Not a door. A sound like cloth ripping, only the cloth was space, and it ripped overhead, and something came through it and hit the floor hard.
Dust puffed up. The floor swallowed the sound.
Every single one of them stopped.
Muzan's glass paused at his lips. Kokushibou's cloth went still mid-stroke. Douma's smile widened, slow. Akaza turned his head. Nakime's hands hovered over the strings without touching them. Hantengu curled smaller. Gyokko's brush dripped onto his own sleeve. Daki stopped crying mid-sob, and Gyutaro's hand stopped on her shoulder.
The Infinity Castle had gone absolutely silent. Ten pairs of eyes, and worse, fixed on the shape on the floor.
Douma
softly, brightly Ooh. A guest.