The moon hung low, veiled in a thin film of clouds, casting the mountainside in shades of silver and sorrow.
Kinsuko stood at the summit, still as a statue carved from obsidian. Her hair, now longer and darker than ink, fluttered in the cold wind. Her eyes glowed faintly—a soft crimson ringed with gold—not yet fully corrupted, but no longer innocent.
Behind her, a lower-rank demon cowered.
"You'll freeze if you wait much longer," he muttered, arms trembling. "Just take the child and go. Why waste time with this village?"
Kinsuko didn't blink."Muzan said leave no survivors."
A heartbeat passed. Then two.
She moved.
The village didn't hear her coming. Not at first.
She was too fast.
Too quiet.
A mist of death cloaked her every step.
Doors splintered. Walls bled. Screams broke the silence one by one, like fragile paper lanterns snuffed by wind. Her claws were precise. Her movements—graceful, lethal. Like a shadow dancing through firelight.
But she paused at the last house.
Because she heard it—a lullaby.
A mother's voice. Humming softly, cradling her child in the dark.
Kinsuko's body froze.The song—the notes—were wrong, yet hauntingly familiar.
She pushed the door open.
A woman stared at her, eyes wide. She shielded her daughter without a word, arms trembling.
For a moment, Kinsuko didn't move.
It was as if time folded. Askari was in front of her again.
The room was the same.
The fear was the same.
She stepped closer.
The mother whispered, "Please… don't hurt her…"
That same plea.The one Yoriichi ignored.
Kinsuko's claws flexed. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
But this time…
She turned away.
"Go," she said, her voice like ice cracking over water.
The mother didn't question. She ran, clutching the child like salvation.
Kinsuko stared at the empty doorway long after they'd gone.
The other demon stumbled in. "You—?! You let them go?"
Kinsuko turned, slowly.
His body hit the ground in three pieces before he could scream.
When she returned to Muzan, her robes were soaked in blood—but her eyes burned colder than before.
"Did you kill them all?" he asked without looking up.
"Yes," she said.
She didn't flinch.
He didn't question.
But that night, in the garden of withered lilies, Kinsuko knelt in silence.
She didn't cry.
She never would again.
But in her mind, she heard her mother's lullaby—and saw that child's eyes, wide with the same terror she once felt.
A war had begun within her.
And though she served the Demon King…
Mercy still lived somewhere inside her.