💥 | SIX OF CUPS.

AND PERHAPS NONE WOULD UNDERSTAND HER in this as well as Nezuko--the one who had never eaten at all. yet, there exists that gulf between them still: where nezuko has never devoured, kokushibō's very existence seemed to hinge on how many she has eaten--human and demon alike.

"...i cannot venture into the sun's light as you can," said as nezuko gestures towards the sky. it weren't entirely true, for kokushibō felt such as strange tug towards the light still, but she knows what to expect. ingrained so deeply, she need only recall her children and loves to decide against testing it too thoroughly.

a secret even to herself.

and head ever-so-slightly sinks. if nezuko could venture into the sun — why could kokushibō not do the same? demonhood was so confusing; having spent so long being a demon and yet not understanding barely anything.

nezuko shrinks. she tries to think how to communicate this without words… hm.

… … …hmm.

nezuko presses a finger to her chin and hums in thought at the other's question. while she was attempting to gesture at how plants grow when exposed to the sun — the notion of kokushibō being like a flower was a fascinating one.

while unrelated, she gives a nod. yes, kokushibō was like a flower — particularly, a dandelion. ever-growing and ever-enduring, but still delicate enough to break apart if someone with selfish intentions comes along.

and there was a passionate nod in response — while never able to attack humans, her stomach was always annoyingly empty, "mmm! mmm!"

there's then a pause, before she makes a circle with her hands against the moonlit sky — the sun made her feel better, even if most days she was too afraid to look at it. despite this, she hoped kokushibō would understand her gestures.

@rabbitprose & @protecthumans

STARTER !

❝ HELLO AGAIN , DEAR . ❞ lust left their discussion early , but she was content to have stumbled on the other again ; a small pleasantry . lust tilts her head , pointing to her mouth . ❝ are you alright ? ❞

a shake of her head, "mm-mm!" general sounds of disagreement — things were not alright! not one bit!

tanjiro had gone off to train, of course — and once again she was left behind, all alone! a travesty! nezuko huffs as a means of expressing a mini-tantrum, kicking up dust and clawing at the air.

in so many ways, despite it all, she were still a fledgling--but then that didn't quite fit either. both too experienced and too new, still caught in the middle with footprints too large to fill and shoes too ill-fitting.

kokushibō wonders how much stress lingered beneath nezuko's silence.

outwardly, however, the younger demon showing off her matching fangs is met with a smile of the elder's own--and further showing off those larger fangs resting upon violet. it seemed they truly would match, given enough time: like a great tree, nezuko could someday resemble her aunt after all.

ningyō and akaza can keep tanjiro: nezuko can be hers.

as nezuko moves closer to cling to her, kokushibō allows a hand to rest upon dark hair, the soft trill of a cat towards a kitten as she sought to soothe her--perhaps those words were a little too careless. she could already imagine akaza's fussing if he had heard her speak of such.

"don't fret, little one--it will not be any time soon. my poor husband wouldn't know what to do with himself if he couldn't call for me," a small jest, aiming to distract. "even so: should you ever need it, remember you can always return here."

and at the mention of her husband — she takes a moment to imagine him seeming helpless. he'd never given her that impression; always knowing what to do in any situation (though, that could be extended to kokushibō, too).

hmm, maybe a boyfriend wasn't such a good idea after all. she needed to take care of tanjiro, after all—! it would be difficult to find the time for someone else. and if something happened to her, she was sure he would be very sad…

…and a blink as she's brought back to reality. was she daydreaming again?

however, upon the notion of returning, it was a comfort to hear. taking it to heart, she gives a smile up at her aunt, before bamboo is placed back in her mouth.

"mm!" muffled noise of agreement; 'here' felt very safe. it carried an interesting scent in the far-off rooms, reminding her that despite her commitment to not eating humans, her and dōma (and again, kokushibō) were very different from each other.

@rabbitprose & @protecthumans

liked for a starter !

❝ SOMETHING APPEARS TO BE TROUBLING YOU , CHILD . ❞ sweet tone carries with it a vile intent . there was no warmth in the woman , but hellfire could always burn in so many other fashions . [ for now , she simply smiles . ] wondering if the other would continue to stare with the odd aura she carried .

and the young demon stared unblinkingly. there wasn't much she knew of since her transformation, only wanting to seek out what is familiar. perhaps the scent the other carried was not human, but a warmth in her heart still allows her to find love in a loveless place.

"mm," she can't talk with the bamboo in her mouth, but she finds herself giving a polite nod of her head in greeting.

She roars and battles with herself, and Kokushibō finds herself wishing she could understand the other; why a muzzle? Were she so incapable of speech? Idly, she wonders if her blood would grant the younger demon mercy--or at least autonomy.

It remains but a thought, a distant curious wonder, for the other's internal battle seems as if it would threaten to spill over the edges. Kokushibō cannot feel threatened and simply watches as Nezuko draws closer, half expecting her to attempt some form of attack, but--

She crumbles at her feet instead.

How surprising, what a curious little demon. The tears even more surprising, a flicker of surprise upon Kokushibō's features before she finally moves.

Kneeling before the other, bringing herself to Nezuko's eyelevel, a hand reaches out; knuckle would gather the spilling tear if Nezuko allows her the proximity. "Are you alone, little one?"

She doesn't sense the presence of any other; wasn't there supposed to be another, the one who wore earrings? She expects he's nearby, somewhere, remaining mindful but opting to focus her attention on the other before her.

"Poor soul, you seem in pain--I can protect you from what hurts you, if you simply allow me. You would no longer need to fret or worry."

and the fire raging in her blood seemed to roar ever-louder as upper one’s knuckles grace her skin. it reacted so violently, to the point where she nearly recoiled — no doubt, this was from the influence muzan’s blood held over the two, but nezuko held little clue as to what it all meant.

pink hues look up to upper moon one — cat-like slits widening to round, faded circles. she nods in response to her question. she had to be alone, to inspect demons without fear of sudden violence — even if her own instinct told her to attack them, it was more so of an inevitability when tanjiro was around.

eyelids squeeze shut, and more tears spill. she understood what kokushibō said, but it was too late. help always arrived too late — even her own brother, the one she loved most, was too late to rescue his family. kokushibō’s promise could not save those who had already disappeared.

and yet, from that promise, she gathers something: demons were supposed to be monsters — so why was this demon, distant family or not, so kind? nezuko’s eyes drift down to kokushibō’s feet, saddened by the complexity of it all.

“...” as if all her energy had left her in that initial roar, she starts to feel tired, once again. quietly, tiny hands scoop up upper moon one’s; praying it would anchor her.

Stare is returned, for Kokushibō has been given pause as well--that man's blood within her veins is seething, echoes of a broken curse and its tattered pieces, but far more strongly is that pull of familarity as well.

Familiarity, for she recognizes one descended from her own clan--not herself, so she can only guess Yoriichi created a descendant in their time apart. The twins were the last of a dying clan.

As long as Nezuko doesn't attack, Kokushibō decides to stay her hand as well. There is some curiosity of her own as well: wondering if Nezuko recognizes their relation, or if something else is holding her back.

Upper one would have expected more aggression.

and there was so much conflicting information being thrust at her — the scent the other carried spoke of family. family she inherently loved. family she inherently trusted. but her family… weren’t demons. she remembered them well, remembered them affectionately — the kindness they all carried, the warmth flowing through their skin and the gentle thrum of their hearts. 

this one was so warped, and she could recognise that too. there was anger rushing through her, causing talons to twitch at her side. protect humans from demons — that’s all she knew. all she experienced. and yet, the scent this demon carried…

“—mmph!” she roars out against the bamboo in her mouth.

why are you here?

“—MMPH!!” she roars louder, in hopes that the wordless demon could say something.

nezuko steps forward, the bamboo itself struggling under the crushing weight of her teeth. however, in moments, she crumbles at kokushibō’s feet, claws still instinctively twitching as if to whisper to her to attack.

she looks up at upper moon one, tears beading in the corners of her eyes. and even now, she was painfully silent - left wondering why it was her that she had discovered after all this time.