Chapter Text
He needed to replenish his strength and get away from that monster. He ran, running as far as his little body could carry him—the body he was forced to change into. He hated it. He just needed more time, more time to live—to get stronger. His body was now that of a child, not even older than 7, small and weak yet capable of getting him somewhere. It wasn’t nearly as strong as his usual appearance, but he made do with running as fast as he could. Muzan’s body wasn’t usually adapted for the sun, but his body would shrivel up instantly if it caught him while he was shrunken. The only thing he had on his body was the kimono, which he attempted to have split from in his showdown with the one he claimed to be a monster. His Hakkama, however, was left back where the monster resided. A black kimono drowned the small demon, appearing too big for him, as he traversed the snowy area in which he had found himself. He held the bottom of his clothing in his hand as he fell deeper into the snow.
He needs to get shelter. The monster wasn’t far from where Muzan had left him when he essentially split. It was a miracle he even escaped. That damned Tamayo, that traitor. His teeth gritted in frustration. The snow was cold, yet he still persevered, even when he fell through the thick coat of it. His clothes were too big for him, but he never really felt embarrassed by the lack of protection the larger clothes gave him. It wasn’t something to be flustered by. He just needed to simply remove his clothes in order to move better. It is not like he can die from the snow anyway. One of the many fascinating luxuries of being a demon. He did not want to give that luxury up. So if he had to run away, humiliating as it was, or if he had to run away forever, then so be it. He could live with that. That’s what it meant to live anyway. To do whatever you wanted. If there were a God or Buddha to exist, who were they to tell him he was wrong? They hadn’t stopped him before.
“The humiliation of being reduced to this is bigger than being naked,” he grumbled to himself as he struggled to take off his kimono. It was when he had reached the middle of it that he realized he was stuck inside. It was dark, and his head was caught in the middle part of his sleeves as he attempted to find his way out. There must have been something etched in that monster sword, he thought. There must have been, because he should have been able to regenerate sooner. He should have been able to grow into his full size and height as well. Inside the Kimono was dark. Although he could see well enough, He felt trapped inside of it, despite how much larger the kimono now was.
As he struggled, he felt something-no—, someone—grab hold of the outside of his kimono. The being gently grasped the fabric, and Muzan’s naked body slid out into the snow.
As He fell into to cold snow, Muzan shivered– not just from the snow’s biting chill but also from who he saw had grabbed his kimono. The Man grabbed Muzan’s kimono and held it in one of his hands, the other grasping his sword, the same sword that he used to cut ….. The same sword he used to slice him into pieces. The cold air caught in Muzan’s throat as he attempted to stand from the snow, his body shaking. Venom laced in his voice, he growled at the man.
The man was Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the monster.
“Get back!!” Muzan screamed. His body refused to obey him. He needed to escape. He was not going to die today. Not now nor never. He refused to. Muzan grabbed a bit of the snow and threw it at the man. The broken-apart snow had made direct contact with the Yoriichi’s face, and the man dropped the clothes he had grabbed from Muzan. The demon took this as a chance to escape. As Muzan struggled to regain his footing, the icy snow beneath him betrayed him once again, and he fell back into the cold embrace of winter. Panic surged through him. He couldn’t let the him get too close, not with that sword still glinting ominously in the pale light. With a quick breath, Muzan pushed himself back up. The fear in his eyes was close to that of a wounded animal. Yoriichi stood a short distance away, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Muzan could feel the weight of the man’s gaze, a gaze of pity. He expected to immediately be killed, immediately be sliced into pieces. What he didn’t expect was to have his kimono thrown back on top of him. He was reduced to struggling again inside the kimono. What was his plan? Did he plan on humiliating him this way? Oh, how the great demon kind, reduced to the body of a child, can’t even escape his own kimono, twice his size. Was this what he was thinking? As Muzan struggled, he heard a laugh, a childish laugh, so pure as if this was the first time he had laughed in ages. It came from the monster. The man even tried to stifle it so the demon king would not have been able to hear it. Muzan’s face began to redden. His face cringed upon hearing it. He extended his arm, tearing a hole through the kimono, a fruitless attempt at attacking Yoriichi, as he ended up missing his mark. The brunnette, on instinct, dodged the attack, causing Muzan to tsk in annoyance. That annoyance was later replaced with a glint of fear as Yoriichi immediately grabbed him by the sleeve of the kimono. It was barely on Muzan, yet he still, for some reason, held onto it.
“Stop that,” Finally speaking, Yorichi scolded Muzan as his body dangled in the air from the unbalanced weight of him and the kimono. “You are not in any shape to fight right now!”
“Let….me….go!!” Muzan’s tiny body frantically moved around, clawing at the man in front of him. His Teeth gritting in anger, grinding even, threatening to break if he did it any longer.
“ I am not trying to kill you at the moment,” Yorichi said, his voice calm like still water yer laced with a hint of annoyance. “I have more questions!”. Muzan, however, kept struggling, even as Yoriichi tried his best to hold him in place.
He wasn’t in the mood. He needed his body to work properly. He kept frantically moving. Trying to slip from the hold, the monster had him in. He opened his mouth and bit into the other's skin, causing him to temporarily be let go, but then immediately caught as the other struggled to keep hold of him. Yorrichi’s body stiffened adjusting muzans position as he began to hold Muzan in one arm, making sure his other one was free.
The tiny demon’s face reddened as he screamed, demanding to be let go. “I will kill you where you stand!! Then I’ll go after every one of those demon slayer pests… I will-”
But before Muzan could get another word in, out of nowhere, he felt a burning sensation on his bottom, a smack if you will. He could not help but cringe. Disgust and anger were written all over his face. The demon was stunned for a moment, but only just a moment, as his cheeks grew red and his entire face reddened, perhaps from anger. Did he just – but before Muzan could get another thought in, the man had delivered 4 more consecutive smacks on the same spot as before. He couldn’t help but jerk in response. It felt like the burning of the sun, and like the sun, Muzan feared it. His eyes widened in dissonance. Why was this hurting? His eyebrows furrowed, furious at the audacity of the situation. His face shriveled in disorientation as he kicked his legs in an attempt to escape once more. Yoriichi, however, kept swatting him. Tears began to threaten to fill Muzan’s eyes as he attempted to shake them away.
Muzan had made attempts to bite him again, but was met with the snow on the ground as he had been intentionally dropped, with a bamboo stick being shoved into his mouth by the other. He was kept in place as the man had frantically tried to tie the bamboo muzzle as fast as he could. Once it was tied in place, Yoriichi grabbed Muzan, kneeled with one knee, and threw the shrunken Demon over it. Muzan didn’t have time to react as the spanking continued. His whole body felt hot as the pain increasingly got harder to deal with. The anger never died down as his humiliation continued, nor did it die down with the bamboo shoved near his mouth. What did die down, however, was his endeavor to keep trying to escape. No matter what he did or how fast he did it, he was pinned down and spanked harder. The tears fell, and the once proud demon king was reduced to a sniveling mess, tangled in his own kimono. He abhored him. Though no matter how much he hated it, he was stuck.
Not stopping, the man began to speak again.
“Are you ready to behave?” He asked, his voice laced with enough sweetness to make Muzan want to puke. Yorichi held Muzan down with one hand but kept a hand free in case he needed to continue punishing the demon. Muzan’s body shivered in response, not only to the voice, sobbing in response. He couldn’t bring himself to answer the man. He didn’t want to dignify him with a response. Anything he would have said would have backfired hopelessly against him, and he knew it. As the man waited for an answer, he was met only with the muffled sobs from the demon.
Yoriichi grew confused at the demon's lack of response, but then just a few seconds later, a light bulb. went off in his head
“You probably can’t answer me cause the muzzle,” Yorichi mumbled and slowly moved his free arm towards Muzan’s face, causing the demon to recoil his face away from the man’s hand, but he was still able to take the muzzle off without any other problems. It didn’t seem to get Muzan to talk, had he was already crying harder. Angry, enormous blobs of tears falling faster and faster, Muzan continued to sob and sob. Yorichi grew confused. He didn’t think he hit him that hard. Grabbing hold of Muzan’s limp body, he attempted to place him upright. It failed instantly as Muzan immediately fell to the ground, his legs giving out in the snow. Muzan could not for the love of god understand why he was crying so much or even the pain that dared not leave. His sobs were uncontrollable, and the one who bore witness to it was a man who could far outmatch him in combat, given the chance. Muzan did not dare open his eyes, as then he would have been forced to realize that reality.
Yorichi, however, waited patiently for him to stop crying.
Muzan never really slowed down his sobs. Maybe this was the first time he had ever been spanked or even punished in general. The man’s thoughts were written all over his face as it scrunched up.
Yoriichi couldn’t help but pity him.
Minutes, maybe 10 or more, it was hard to keep track of time in the dark, had passed when the sun threatened to show. Muzan was too busy crying to notice the sun or Yorichi slowly picking him up again and heading towards a nearby shelter. Yoriichi decided that he would ask him again when he had calmed down.
He should have struck him down as soon as he saw him…. He should have, but when he saw him essentially struggling inside his own clothing, he looked……human.