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Well-Adjusted Barely Traumatized Demon Slayer (Murata SI-ish)
- Thread starter DeeplyoftheWorld
- Start date
CriticalFailure
5% Chance of Disappointment
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2016
- Messages
- 4,033
How is he surviving this? It seems he was recognized.
TheDanny
Experienced.
- Joined
- May 14, 2022
- Messages
- 3,003
Uh oh, bro is not going to be getting out of this unscathed if he stays on that dumb shit. He really should dip though and just write that report while giving his info plausible deniability. Maybe something like "Confirmed Eternal Paradise cult leader Doma is upper moon two. Evidence indicates an ice/frost related ability with the possibility application of hindering breathing styles in close quarters. Recommendation: Literally all the Hashira."
Doma seems like the type who likes to play with his food, and in his mind he hasn't given anything important away yet. He's not going to expect this new spy to just vanish next day with all of this 'info' in hand. In addition, his blood demon art and personality aren't suited for surveillance, so Murata only really has to sneak around them(Edit: them being the cultists, if that wasn't clear).
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SmallMediumAtLarge
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Nov 16, 2016
- Messages
- 44
I feel like this post is dismissing the other half of his danger, the one that Doma was separated from in canon when Muzan positioned him at the Infinity Castle: the cult itself. There's any number of fanatically devoted spies, assassins, or thugs that could be watching Murata at this time, who have already displayed a willingness to kill crows to silence their messages. Any one of them, too, could be made a demon, since Doma has permission to give Muzan's blood at his own discretion.
TheDanny
Experienced.
- Joined
- May 14, 2022
- Messages
- 3,003
I actually did make sure to bring up the cultists themselves as a possible threat and surveillance for Doma himself, but I didn't consider the possibility of him also having demon henchmen. While we see from Daki and Gyutaro that he dorsn't feel like giving his own blood is a big deal, i don't think he has demon subordinates. Mostly because Muzan really doesn't like any of his demons to group up or have subordinates, and even actively forbids it. Rui is actually stated to be an explicit exception to that rule with his makeshift family.
And I don't feel like an armed and seasoned demon slayer like the MC has anything to be scared of with the cultists. There's not a lot they can do against him since they don't really hold a significant physical threat to him. They wouldn't even have access to any trained personal militia cause they are an isolated "peaceful" mountain cult that Doma would have no inclination to train up into leg breakers. The most dangerous thing they can act as is, once again, surveillance. But that isn't actually that bad, cause why would one spy go directly to Doma with the info that Murata left? At most they would first get some regular cultists to grab him, which would completely fail cause he's a breath style user sprinting at superhuman speeds for miles. By the time Doma himself would ever hear of this, Murata would be long gone.
Chapter 8: Douma's Non-Therapeutic Discussions.
New
DeeplyoftheWorld
Getting out there.
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2025
- Messages
- 11
Observing the town from the window in his room, Murata waited.
When Nobunaga arrived, he opened the window, letting her in. After he attached the letter to her leg, she flew away in the dark.
Having been in the town for about a week, Murata familiarized himself with the layout of it and the surrounding areas.
Not everyone in the town was a member of Eternal Paradise, though most were. The temple that Douma introduced himself in was one of several. The one Murata traveled to served as the staging ground for new initiates. Echelons existed within the mountain itself, and the mountain housed many people.
But without actually joining, Murata would never have access to those places. Douma's reputation spread far, and everyone was aware of him. Despite that, very little was actually known about him.
The common points were that Douma was a charitable, selfless person who was blessed by the divine. Personal details about him were sparse.
Were the higher ranking members aware of Douma's demonic nature? They would have to, wouldn't they?
Douma didn't eat normal food, never appeared in the sun, and he remained impossibly young for over a hundred years.
At the same time, those traits could be twisted to prove he was a blessed and sacred being. A guiding shepherd to his flock.
Murata entered the temple alongside Yuki Yuki.
It was a stupid name, but the young man was so devoted that when he first met Douma, he changed it and didn't answer to anything else. Yuki said that Douma reminded him of the snow.
Douma, upon seeing Yuki, smiled. "My faithful friend! It is great to see you again. Do you have a new aspirant? Does he seek knowledge?"
He nodded, his face twisted in a grin. "Masao is a humble traveler visiting our beautiful town. It would be an honor for him to speak with you."
Douma looked at Murata before facing Yuki. "I will attend to him. For now, you can join one of the congregations outside. They would love to have you!"
Yuki left, humming happily as the door closed. Turning to Murata, Douma began speaking.
"Hello, Masao. I was told you were a traveler, and now you stop to meet me. I wonder why?"
Murata remained stoic. "I'm a traveler, like you said. I've seen people like you preach about suffering, promising a way out of it. Why are you different from them?"
Douma clutched his chest in mocked pain. "How bold. But here in Eternal Paradise, I speak no lies. With my tender care, these people learn about the true nature of the world. Yet, instead of despairing, they become happy."
Walking around the room, Douma carried a vase.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Murata agreed. It was beautiful, if one ignored the artist.
"A friend gifted it to me. He's a bit eccentric, but he means well." Shaking his head, Douma continued.
"Much like this vase, people have a beauty about them. Instead of appreciating their inner self, they worry and suffer in the affairs of the world. However, I am generous, allowing them to offer themselves to me. I will take care of their anguish, their pain, and help them achieve happiness."
"Is that so?"
"Of course! I would be amiss otherwise to fail as a leader. What else do you wish to ask?"
Murata looked around the large room. It held nothing of importance, with the only escape being the door behind him.
"The ice. How did you do that? I've never seen anything like it."
Douma laughed, eagerly demonstrating his fans. Small snowflakes fell from them.
"Once, a man arrived at this mountain, late at night. I learned several things from him, but most importantly, I learned how to better take care of my followers. He gave me a gift, and I tended to it. Eventually, I was able to develop my own gift that some would consider divine."
Murata nodded, patiently asking another question. "What else can it do?"
Douma lit up, having no fear in the world. "So much. I can summon lotuses that spread far, children that can protect others, and a giant bodhisattva. I can even create myself. All of this made up of the ice from my fans."
They sat in silence for a moment. Murata asked another question.
"Who was the man that came to you that night?"
"Before I answer that, may I ask a question of my own?" Douma interrupted.
Murata tensed. He nodded, but shifted his seating.
"I, just like you, have met many people. You, as a traveler. Me, as a leader. But you are one of the few to believe me. You did not, for a single moment, hesitate after I told you about my gift. Most would doubt me, even for a second. But you looked like you were ready to hear my answer."
Douma smiled.
"Why is that?"
Taking in a deep breath, Murata immediately prepared an answer. "Because I've seen things in my journey that ordinary people would not believe in. When I heard word of a leader like you, I had to confirm for myself. If you were a fraud, then so be it. But if you weren't, then maybe this entire life I've lived will be worth something."
Douma clapped. Slow and measured, it broke the silence of the room. Small tears leaked from his eyes.
"A beautiful answer! When one comes to such realizations, I can't help but express my inner bliss. I want to speak more, but I have very many responsibilities. Stay at the temple next to this one, and we will speak again. I am eager to share more of myself and hear your thoughts."
"Would I be able to grab my belongings from the inn?"
Douma waved him off. "Of course, I don't want to rush you! Come back tomorrow."
Handing Murata a medallion, Douma walked away while parting with several words.
"Show that to any of the maidservants, and they can take you to the appropriate building."
Murata returned to the town, rushing to the inn. He burst into his room and wrote as quickly as possible. Leaving the letter in a crack outside the window, he packed up his belongings.
The next morning, he arrived at the temple again. Showing his coin to a nearby maid, she ushered him into one of the buildings.
-
True to Douma's word, they spoke again. Sometimes, it was about Douma's life. Other times, Murata lied about his.
He learned more about Eternal Paradise than he would've liked. It was a simple philosophy and religion centered around Douma as a guiding beacon.
He even wrote a book detailing paradise and how to achieve it. Murata swallowed his disgust and read it multiple times.
If Douma was impressed, then he never said so.
His room contained few luxuries. The only thing of note were his pack and the window. Since he lived in one of the taller buildings, Nobunaga had an easier time hiding in the fog.
Murata had a maid assigned to his room. A shy and reserved girl, Seiko didn't talk much at all. It made talking to her frustrating.
"Anything new today, Seiko?" Murata asked.
She shook her head and began wiping the floor with a damp cloth.
Sighing, Murata trekked to Douma's temple.
Closing the door behind him, Douma smiled at him.
"If you could help me answer a quick question, I'd greatly appreciate it," Douma said.
Pulling out a drawing, Douma unraveled the scroll in front of Murata.
"It's been many years, yet not one of my followers have found this flower."
Murata remained composed. Of course he knew what it was.
"It looks like a red spider lily..."
"Yes, except it's blue. Everyday, I have my followers search for it. I would very much like to hold one in my hand," Douma explained.
Shaking his head, Murata expressed his ignorance. It was the honest truth. His mind tried unraveling where it could be. He remembered a long time ago, but that memory faded away.
Tossing the paper away, Douma chuckled and shrugged it off. "It can't be helped. I didn't expect you to know, after all."
"Do you need the flower for anything?"
Douma lied as easily as he breathed. "It's very rare. It's for that reason I want one."
Abandoning that train of thought, they engaged in a different conversation.
"Do you like the servant I picked out for you?"
"I would prefer not to have one," Murata said.
Douma raised his eyebrows. "Don't people like having others serve them? To see that they're not so insignificant in the world?"
"Maybe some people, but I don't particularly care about that. I don't want someone to serve me just because of who I am."
Douma laughed. "How strange. I chose Seiko since you're opposites. You speak because I like your answers. Meanwhile, her family cut her tongue out for speaking against them. When she came to my temple three years ago, I could not help but pity her existence."
Murata shuddered. The way Douma explained her story felt patronizing, like she was worthless.
"That's horrible. What kind of family would do that?"
Douma, confusion on his face, answered. "Her family, evidently."
Someone knocked on the door. Douma opened it, speaking in hushed whispers with the lady outside.
"I forgot how busy today was going to be! I'll have Chiyo show you around the temple. It's long overdue, but I know you'll enjoy it," Douma said, before moving to another room.
The lady who spoke with Douma stepped in, patiently showing Murata the area.
"The main temple is where our lord resides, alongside some of his retainers, including myself."
They moved towards the buildings behind the temple, including the one Murata lived in.
"Our most devout believers live here. Consider yourself lucky for being recognized by him," she clenched her hands.
When they made their way to the top of the tallest building, Murata could see the town below them. The distance was far enough to barely make out the shapes of the people walking around.
"Does he own everything around here?"
Chiyo nodded. "Anything we own also belongs to him. Yes, the town below is owned by him. As is this mountain. And the mountains around us. It's a small price to pay. The happiness we receive from his presence is worth more than all the riches of the world."
Staring at Chiyo, Murata noticed her staggered breathing.
They continued the tour, though Murata made sure to keep a cordial distance between them. She was crazy, he could tell.
When Nobunaga arrived, he opened the window, letting her in. After he attached the letter to her leg, she flew away in the dark.
Having been in the town for about a week, Murata familiarized himself with the layout of it and the surrounding areas.
Not everyone in the town was a member of Eternal Paradise, though most were. The temple that Douma introduced himself in was one of several. The one Murata traveled to served as the staging ground for new initiates. Echelons existed within the mountain itself, and the mountain housed many people.
But without actually joining, Murata would never have access to those places. Douma's reputation spread far, and everyone was aware of him. Despite that, very little was actually known about him.
The common points were that Douma was a charitable, selfless person who was blessed by the divine. Personal details about him were sparse.
Were the higher ranking members aware of Douma's demonic nature? They would have to, wouldn't they?
Douma didn't eat normal food, never appeared in the sun, and he remained impossibly young for over a hundred years.
At the same time, those traits could be twisted to prove he was a blessed and sacred being. A guiding shepherd to his flock.
Murata entered the temple alongside Yuki Yuki.
It was a stupid name, but the young man was so devoted that when he first met Douma, he changed it and didn't answer to anything else. Yuki said that Douma reminded him of the snow.
Douma, upon seeing Yuki, smiled. "My faithful friend! It is great to see you again. Do you have a new aspirant? Does he seek knowledge?"
He nodded, his face twisted in a grin. "Masao is a humble traveler visiting our beautiful town. It would be an honor for him to speak with you."
Douma looked at Murata before facing Yuki. "I will attend to him. For now, you can join one of the congregations outside. They would love to have you!"
Yuki left, humming happily as the door closed. Turning to Murata, Douma began speaking.
"Hello, Masao. I was told you were a traveler, and now you stop to meet me. I wonder why?"
Murata remained stoic. "I'm a traveler, like you said. I've seen people like you preach about suffering, promising a way out of it. Why are you different from them?"
Douma clutched his chest in mocked pain. "How bold. But here in Eternal Paradise, I speak no lies. With my tender care, these people learn about the true nature of the world. Yet, instead of despairing, they become happy."
Walking around the room, Douma carried a vase.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Murata agreed. It was beautiful, if one ignored the artist.
"A friend gifted it to me. He's a bit eccentric, but he means well." Shaking his head, Douma continued.
"Much like this vase, people have a beauty about them. Instead of appreciating their inner self, they worry and suffer in the affairs of the world. However, I am generous, allowing them to offer themselves to me. I will take care of their anguish, their pain, and help them achieve happiness."
"Is that so?"
"Of course! I would be amiss otherwise to fail as a leader. What else do you wish to ask?"
Murata looked around the large room. It held nothing of importance, with the only escape being the door behind him.
"The ice. How did you do that? I've never seen anything like it."
Douma laughed, eagerly demonstrating his fans. Small snowflakes fell from them.
"Once, a man arrived at this mountain, late at night. I learned several things from him, but most importantly, I learned how to better take care of my followers. He gave me a gift, and I tended to it. Eventually, I was able to develop my own gift that some would consider divine."
Murata nodded, patiently asking another question. "What else can it do?"
Douma lit up, having no fear in the world. "So much. I can summon lotuses that spread far, children that can protect others, and a giant bodhisattva. I can even create myself. All of this made up of the ice from my fans."
They sat in silence for a moment. Murata asked another question.
"Who was the man that came to you that night?"
"Before I answer that, may I ask a question of my own?" Douma interrupted.
Murata tensed. He nodded, but shifted his seating.
"I, just like you, have met many people. You, as a traveler. Me, as a leader. But you are one of the few to believe me. You did not, for a single moment, hesitate after I told you about my gift. Most would doubt me, even for a second. But you looked like you were ready to hear my answer."
Douma smiled.
"Why is that?"
Taking in a deep breath, Murata immediately prepared an answer. "Because I've seen things in my journey that ordinary people would not believe in. When I heard word of a leader like you, I had to confirm for myself. If you were a fraud, then so be it. But if you weren't, then maybe this entire life I've lived will be worth something."
Douma clapped. Slow and measured, it broke the silence of the room. Small tears leaked from his eyes.
"A beautiful answer! When one comes to such realizations, I can't help but express my inner bliss. I want to speak more, but I have very many responsibilities. Stay at the temple next to this one, and we will speak again. I am eager to share more of myself and hear your thoughts."
"Would I be able to grab my belongings from the inn?"
Douma waved him off. "Of course, I don't want to rush you! Come back tomorrow."
Handing Murata a medallion, Douma walked away while parting with several words.
"Show that to any of the maidservants, and they can take you to the appropriate building."
Murata returned to the town, rushing to the inn. He burst into his room and wrote as quickly as possible. Leaving the letter in a crack outside the window, he packed up his belongings.
The next morning, he arrived at the temple again. Showing his coin to a nearby maid, she ushered him into one of the buildings.
-
True to Douma's word, they spoke again. Sometimes, it was about Douma's life. Other times, Murata lied about his.
He learned more about Eternal Paradise than he would've liked. It was a simple philosophy and religion centered around Douma as a guiding beacon.
He even wrote a book detailing paradise and how to achieve it. Murata swallowed his disgust and read it multiple times.
If Douma was impressed, then he never said so.
His room contained few luxuries. The only thing of note were his pack and the window. Since he lived in one of the taller buildings, Nobunaga had an easier time hiding in the fog.
Murata had a maid assigned to his room. A shy and reserved girl, Seiko didn't talk much at all. It made talking to her frustrating.
"Anything new today, Seiko?" Murata asked.
She shook her head and began wiping the floor with a damp cloth.
Sighing, Murata trekked to Douma's temple.
Closing the door behind him, Douma smiled at him.
"If you could help me answer a quick question, I'd greatly appreciate it," Douma said.
Pulling out a drawing, Douma unraveled the scroll in front of Murata.
"It's been many years, yet not one of my followers have found this flower."
Murata remained composed. Of course he knew what it was.
"It looks like a red spider lily..."
"Yes, except it's blue. Everyday, I have my followers search for it. I would very much like to hold one in my hand," Douma explained.
Shaking his head, Murata expressed his ignorance. It was the honest truth. His mind tried unraveling where it could be. He remembered a long time ago, but that memory faded away.
Tossing the paper away, Douma chuckled and shrugged it off. "It can't be helped. I didn't expect you to know, after all."
"Do you need the flower for anything?"
Douma lied as easily as he breathed. "It's very rare. It's for that reason I want one."
Abandoning that train of thought, they engaged in a different conversation.
"Do you like the servant I picked out for you?"
"I would prefer not to have one," Murata said.
Douma raised his eyebrows. "Don't people like having others serve them? To see that they're not so insignificant in the world?"
"Maybe some people, but I don't particularly care about that. I don't want someone to serve me just because of who I am."
Douma laughed. "How strange. I chose Seiko since you're opposites. You speak because I like your answers. Meanwhile, her family cut her tongue out for speaking against them. When she came to my temple three years ago, I could not help but pity her existence."
Murata shuddered. The way Douma explained her story felt patronizing, like she was worthless.
"That's horrible. What kind of family would do that?"
Douma, confusion on his face, answered. "Her family, evidently."
Someone knocked on the door. Douma opened it, speaking in hushed whispers with the lady outside.
"I forgot how busy today was going to be! I'll have Chiyo show you around the temple. It's long overdue, but I know you'll enjoy it," Douma said, before moving to another room.
The lady who spoke with Douma stepped in, patiently showing Murata the area.
"The main temple is where our lord resides, alongside some of his retainers, including myself."
They moved towards the buildings behind the temple, including the one Murata lived in.
"Our most devout believers live here. Consider yourself lucky for being recognized by him," she clenched her hands.
When they made their way to the top of the tallest building, Murata could see the town below them. The distance was far enough to barely make out the shapes of the people walking around.
"Does he own everything around here?"
Chiyo nodded. "Anything we own also belongs to him. Yes, the town below is owned by him. As is this mountain. And the mountains around us. It's a small price to pay. The happiness we receive from his presence is worth more than all the riches of the world."
Staring at Chiyo, Murata noticed her staggered breathing.
They continued the tour, though Murata made sure to keep a cordial distance between them. She was crazy, he could tell.
TheDanny
Experienced.
- Joined
- May 14, 2022
- Messages
- 3,003
Wow, guy has the total survival instincts of a lemming that listens to Lincoln Park. Dude had absolutely zero reason to ever even contemplate staying within the same prefecture. A grand total of zero important intel to be had with this endeavor.
He seems to be subtly mind controlled/drugged now that he's decided to stay and let them dig their hooks into him.
Trace7187
Getting sticky.
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2025
- Messages
- 79
No if he just dipped right after he would've aroused suspicion. Especially right after he met and spoke to douma.
MejaisBlack
Versed in the lewd.
- Joined
- Nov 30, 2020
- Messages
- 1,093
Nah, there are only two situations here: either Douma already knows he's a demon slayer or he doesn't.
If he knows, then it doesn't matter when he leaves because the moment he tries will trigger a confrontation he can't win anyway, so better to stay and gather intelligence.
If he doesn't know, then the MC is not going to be found out by simple observation, so staying until he completes the mission is still risky but viable.
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Gnomishness
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2021
- Messages
- 105
He could've (and should've) just said:
"Douma, the cult leader, is definitely an Upper Rank demon. It's definitely him. And he's a real glutten. Probably amongst the top 3 strongest, even. Based on vague context clues, I expect him to have ice powers. If we could get some Kakushi to subtly monitor the balance of people who enter and leave the mountain, I'm sure we'd find the sort of pattern which would cause us to expect this. I wouldn't risk even any of our Hashira on this without a bunch of contingency plans and thorough preparations first though."
No other intel he could get on Douma would be worth the risk of not living long enough to report that, which he already knows. And if the intel seemed suspiciously thorough for how little time Murata spent there, the higher ups would just have to live with it, since a more thorough investigation would prove Murata right anyway.
Relying on a duality like that ignores the real world muddiness of human suspicion, and the inherent senseless evilness of the demons.
The fact is, Douma could, for the most innocuous of reasons, suddenly decide to flip to being suspicious of Murata for a reason that Murata has no control over.
Or Douma could even, just due to being in the same room as him, decide to eat Murata at literally any point, just because Douma is hungry, divorced from any suspicion.
Or, and this would be a terrifying possibility, Douma could potentially choose to do something to mind control Murata at any point instead, and render Murata compromised and unable to relay any information to the demon slaying corps.
Yet in the opposite vein, just because Douma might suspect Murata of being a demon slayer doesn't mean Murata couldn't still manage to slip through his fingers. Think about the first half of the entertainment district arc. Daki knew who the demon slayers were since basically the start, but that didn't mean that there weren't still chances for them all to run away until basically the very last moment. Eating someone with any sort of subtly requires opportunity that rarely comes up in the heat of the moment after all.
The worry that, if he suddenly leaves, Douma will chase Murata down out of suspicion, is admittedly a valid one, but that just means that Murata should make sure to leave during a sunny morning, at a point when the demon chasing him is practically a physical impossibility.
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CriticalFailure
5% Chance of Disappointment
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2016
- Messages
- 4,033
And all of a sudden, the character is a retarded lemming.
I will not lie, my suspension of disbelief is broken at this.
I will not lie, my suspension of disbelief is broken at this.
Gnomishness
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2021
- Messages
- 105
I will say, in defense of the author, this look into Douma's inner circle was a fascinating thing that I've never seen done before, and it's an interesting thing to realize that much of the Upper Moon's search for the Blue Spider Lily would've relied on human contribution through their followers, and whatnot.
And indeed, even just scenes where you can talk with one of the upper moons, have a fascinating quality to them.
And we do need more media giving a proper portrayal to how malicious cults are, and how people should always be wry of getting tricked by them.
That said, for this latest chapter, I think that scenes of Murata interviewing people who met with Douma and who came down the mountain searching for the Blue Spider Lily makes more sense than Murata being part of those scenes himself. He knows how dangerous the leader of this cult is, and there are other ways to limit the cult's influence beyond just confronting the guy in charge, which he already knows to be a thing that would never actually work out.
And indeed, even just scenes where you can talk with one of the upper moons, have a fascinating quality to them.
And we do need more media giving a proper portrayal to how malicious cults are, and how people should always be wry of getting tricked by them.
That said, for this latest chapter, I think that scenes of Murata interviewing people who met with Douma and who came down the mountain searching for the Blue Spider Lily makes more sense than Murata being part of those scenes himself. He knows how dangerous the leader of this cult is, and there are other ways to limit the cult's influence beyond just confronting the guy in charge, which he already knows to be a thing that would never actually work out.
NAArog
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2021
- Messages
- 306
So... about that. Here's a video where a guy calculated how much the Ubuyashiki spend on the Corps and how much it really worth for a regular Demon Slayer.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-6TWrxy1h4
Chapter 9: When in Doubt, Explosions.
New
DeeplyoftheWorld
Getting out there.
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2025
- Messages
- 11
Murata woke up with a sweat. He changed his clothes before meditating in the room, trying to calm his nerves.
Douma, being increasingly busy, had little time to continue talking with Murata.
Grateful for the small lull, he spoke with several of Douma's retainers in the following weeks.
He entirely avoided Chiyo. Her fanatic and passionate intensity was overbearing.
Hiroto's gentle nature made him endearing to others. After the death of his wife and children, he sought answers in an increasingly changing world. Douma was his salvation, and he sang praises for him.
Fumiko was a stern woman. Born and raised in the mountain, the life she lived revolved entirely around Eternal Paradise. She could recite the passages forwards and backwards, and she taught many of the new followers.
Murata met Ichiro when the man returned to the temple. A traveling missionary, Ichiro desired to spread Douma's word. Surprisingly, he proved to be very good at this, always managing to bring back a flock of people. In the end, it amounted to nothing more than a circus of death.
People asked questions. Who wouldn't be concerned if a friend disappeared after meeting their revered leader?
Yet, things stayed the same, and those people disappeared as well. For the sane, it was a balancing act of blending in and adjusting to their new life. For the pure zealot, it showed the immensity of Douma's kindness. No longer would these people have to interact with the outside world.
Murata profiled them. Even if they weren't demons, they were dangerous people. By willingly condoning Douma's actions, they were just as monstrous.
The Demon Slayer Corps did not promote the murdering of civilians, not matter how vile they were. Self-defense was allowed but the intentional killing of humans was taboo.
Every one of Douma's retainers looked at people pitifully, mentally organizing them by categories of food. Douma had personal preferences, despite his gluttony.
Interrupted by the opened door, Murata stayed silent as Seiko entered and cleaned his room.
He initially tried sending her away, but she would always come back, citing her duties.
She showed him that just having parts of the tongue cut off didn't make speech impossible. Only very difficult, and despite practice, some sounds could never be replicated again. Seiko was from a richer family before she left, so she could also read and write.
Murata, hand on the door, prepared to leave until she grabbed his sleeve. She gave him a piece of paper before returning to her work.
Help me leave.
He pocketed the aged paper, leaving the room.
-
"Have you ever thought about death?" Douma asked him.
The first snow came, blanketing the ground as clouds covered the sky.
Adopting a thoughtful expression, Murata answered. "Many times. I've always wondered if everyone goes to the same place."
Douma laughed. "The same place? You speak as if there is anywhere to go after death."
"I think there is and that the actions in our life do mean something even when we're dead."
"I can't help but disagree," Douma said. "If such is the case, then why do the wicked get rewarded? Why do good people suffer?"
"I don't know. That type of question has troubled me for a long time. I won't ever get an answer for it, but I still believe in what I said."
Douma frowned. "That's irrational, you know? If you don't have the answer, then it probably doesn't exist."
"Just because I don't have the answer doesn't make it unanswerable. Someone wiser than me will probably figure it out."
Wagging his finger, Douma objected. "Not even the wisest have an answer. They say that to concern yourself with such dilemmas is to suffer unnecessarily. Always help others, but realize that the world is inherently wrong."
Murata huffed, letting out a flicker of annoyance. "Why does it matter how I answer?"
"I thought we were one in mind!" Douma exaggerated his surprise. "So it shocks me that we would be such opposites in this topic."
"It would be pretty boring if we had the same answer to everything, wouldn't it?"
"Only if we had the wrong answers."
Reaching the end of the courtyard, Douma parted ways. "Meet me again tomorrow. Also, be careful of the guards! Winter is approaching, so we're protecting the temple from any desperate bandits!"
Murata returned to his room, cursing.
-
Later that night, Murata had Seiko come to his room.
"Why do you want to leave? How can I even trust you?" Murata asked in a hushed voice.
She spoke slowly, putting effort in each word. "Douma eats people. Not human."
Gesturing to his pack, she requested writing materials.
I saw him eat people months ago. I left without a sound but the memory haunts me. He is not human. As for trust? I have seen your 'stick.' You bring a weapon to this temple. You are still alive despite that and while they know you as Masao, you are actually Murata.
He glared at Seiko. Murata purposely had the kakushi modify the sheathe to require a demon slayer's strength to open. He also put a small lock on his pack.
How did she do it?
"Why not leave earlier?"
Lots of eyes and as a servant, I have nothing beyond these walls. What should I do? Starve?
"Why are you expecting me to help you?"
She looked at him with confusion, then gestured to the sword. An obvious conclusion. A swordsman was not poor.
"So, you were helping me so that I would take you with me?"
Yes. I hide things very well. No one knows, no one notices.
Sighing, Murata held back his headache. This could work out.
"Alright, I have a plan. I still have one more thing to do, but before that, I need your help again."
She nodded, patiently understanding her role.
-
Murata gazed at the scenery around him. It was beautiful, but carried a terrible secret.
It would be safer to leave now, but that would be spitting on his duty as a demon slayer.
Was it unnecessarily selfless and dangerous for one life? Of course it was, but to abandon a core tenet of his organization was tantamount to treason.
If someone asked him to help, then he should do his best. It was better to die and save a life than to run away.
Murata had more than enough to verify Douma's existence as Upper Two. He could have left much earlier, but he wanted to document as much as possible about Eternal Paradise. Their structure, locations, patterns of life.
If the Demon Slayer Corps could hinder the cult, then Douma would have to resort to other means to find humans to eat. He also finished writing notes about the Blue Spider Lily. The fact that Douma was looking for it at all was of interest.
It would take only one call for help to summon the hashira, but it was too early for a couple of reasons.
One, the hashira would die. No matter his warnings, they would fight to the death, as expected of their duty. But it would be their downfall. No one had the mark, and without that, one couldn't reach the Transparent World.
No one carried a red blade either. It was even worse against an opponent like Douma, who would freeze the battlefield around him, making it more difficult to heat the blade with grip strength alone.
Second, Murata wanted to gleam anything related to Muzan. He purposely avoided it after the first discussion, but now was the time to take that risk.
Entering Douma's room, Murata took a seat, his walking stick beside him.
"Ah, is the pain flaring up again?" Douma's brow furrowed.
Murata nodded. "It's unfortunate, but one of the consequences of being a traveler."
"It's a beautiful day for rest. Pity the clouds are covering the sky, but it is what it is."
Murata inwardly groaned at that remark. It was ill-fated luck.
"You look more curious than I've ever seen you. Ask, ask away!"
"When we first talked, you mentioned a man who gave you your gift. Who was he?" Murata asked.
Douma perked up, sitting up in rapt attention. "How could I forget him? Well, I can call him many things, but that night was perhaps my most terrifying. His presence felt like a natural disaster. Any move I made could cause him to erupt."
"Was he angry?"
Douma chuckled. "He's always had a short temper. Do you wish to meet him?"
Murata shook his head. "After your description, I would rather not."
"Don't worry! He can be merciful at times. Sometimes, he lives in Tokyo. Other times, in Osaka. He is a traveler like yourself, but he is also a doctor."
"Does he save lives?"
Douma frowned, pondering. "I would say yes. Yet, paradoxically, I would also say no."
"That's a strange answer," Murata said. "He saves lives, yet he doesn't?"
Douma shrugged, agreeing with Murata's assessment.
"Does he have a gift like yours?"
They sat in silence. The cold forced Murata to keep his hands hidden in his haori.
Douma hummed, thinking. "No, not at all. He's very mysterious. You could pass by him in the street and not even notice. Such is his existence."
Grinning wickedly, Douma explained further. "Maybe that man you upset was him. Or a child you pushed away. Perhaps that woman you ogled was him."
He widened his eyes, staring straight into Murata's soul.
"Do you want to become a demon?"
Murata's senses were alarming him. He forced himself to answer.
"Never."
"Shame," Douma tossed a dead crow in front of Murata. "I wanted to see long I should drag this out for. But, after all this, I'm met with disappointment. I did enjoy our conversations, for what it's worth."
"Can't say I did," Murata disagreed. Before he could unsheathe his sword, Douma flicked his fan, its sharp edge and accompanying ice slicing across Murata's chest.
Murata crashed through the door, hitting the courtyard on his back. Blood began staining the snow red. He lit a match in his sleeve.
Standing at the entrance of his temple, Douma frowned.
"I dismissed everyone. No one will hear your screams."
Murata threw a bomb at Douma's feet.
He cut through it quickly, the wisteria inside irritating Douma while the gunpowder erupted. The blast set off a cascade of explosions, the temple collapsing under the firepower of Seiko's well-placed traps.
Murata clenched his body tightly and breathed deliberately, trying to stem the blood. Seiko ran from one of the servant's sheds towards him. People began looking out the windows, shocked by the unexpected sound.
She helped him run, both pushing themselves to the limit.
"Damn it," Murata coughed, "Nobunaga was supposed to coordinate with the kakushi." He could mourn the death of her later, but now, they had to escape.
"I know a path to get to the woods faster," Seiko said.
They continued, yet Murata's dragging pace was costing them precious time.
A booming crash destroyed the stairs, causing both of them to fall painfully. A giant bodhisattva slammed its hand towards them. Seiko grabbed Murata and quickly plunged further down the mountain.
Rock and stone cut their skin as Murata tried to cushion the chaotic plummet with his body. They retreated into the woods.
Murata watched as the normally calm bodhisattva turn angry, its hands swiftly attacking the nearby surroundings in a barrage of punches.
They could hear the people in the mountains erupt with equal anger, their screams and shouts echoing down to the town.
"We have to keep moving," Seiko pushed him. Her left arm hung limp, and her legs were covered in bruises.
"I know," Murata's wounds agonized him. "Just a bit further."
He slumped to the ground. His breathing lost focus, which reopened the tear in his chest.
"Murata!" She carried him, his consciousness ebbing away.
Douma, being increasingly busy, had little time to continue talking with Murata.
Grateful for the small lull, he spoke with several of Douma's retainers in the following weeks.
He entirely avoided Chiyo. Her fanatic and passionate intensity was overbearing.
Hiroto's gentle nature made him endearing to others. After the death of his wife and children, he sought answers in an increasingly changing world. Douma was his salvation, and he sang praises for him.
Fumiko was a stern woman. Born and raised in the mountain, the life she lived revolved entirely around Eternal Paradise. She could recite the passages forwards and backwards, and she taught many of the new followers.
Murata met Ichiro when the man returned to the temple. A traveling missionary, Ichiro desired to spread Douma's word. Surprisingly, he proved to be very good at this, always managing to bring back a flock of people. In the end, it amounted to nothing more than a circus of death.
People asked questions. Who wouldn't be concerned if a friend disappeared after meeting their revered leader?
Yet, things stayed the same, and those people disappeared as well. For the sane, it was a balancing act of blending in and adjusting to their new life. For the pure zealot, it showed the immensity of Douma's kindness. No longer would these people have to interact with the outside world.
Murata profiled them. Even if they weren't demons, they were dangerous people. By willingly condoning Douma's actions, they were just as monstrous.
The Demon Slayer Corps did not promote the murdering of civilians, not matter how vile they were. Self-defense was allowed but the intentional killing of humans was taboo.
Every one of Douma's retainers looked at people pitifully, mentally organizing them by categories of food. Douma had personal preferences, despite his gluttony.
Interrupted by the opened door, Murata stayed silent as Seiko entered and cleaned his room.
He initially tried sending her away, but she would always come back, citing her duties.
She showed him that just having parts of the tongue cut off didn't make speech impossible. Only very difficult, and despite practice, some sounds could never be replicated again. Seiko was from a richer family before she left, so she could also read and write.
Murata, hand on the door, prepared to leave until she grabbed his sleeve. She gave him a piece of paper before returning to her work.
Help me leave.
He pocketed the aged paper, leaving the room.
-
"Have you ever thought about death?" Douma asked him.
The first snow came, blanketing the ground as clouds covered the sky.
Adopting a thoughtful expression, Murata answered. "Many times. I've always wondered if everyone goes to the same place."
Douma laughed. "The same place? You speak as if there is anywhere to go after death."
"I think there is and that the actions in our life do mean something even when we're dead."
"I can't help but disagree," Douma said. "If such is the case, then why do the wicked get rewarded? Why do good people suffer?"
"I don't know. That type of question has troubled me for a long time. I won't ever get an answer for it, but I still believe in what I said."
Douma frowned. "That's irrational, you know? If you don't have the answer, then it probably doesn't exist."
"Just because I don't have the answer doesn't make it unanswerable. Someone wiser than me will probably figure it out."
Wagging his finger, Douma objected. "Not even the wisest have an answer. They say that to concern yourself with such dilemmas is to suffer unnecessarily. Always help others, but realize that the world is inherently wrong."
Murata huffed, letting out a flicker of annoyance. "Why does it matter how I answer?"
"I thought we were one in mind!" Douma exaggerated his surprise. "So it shocks me that we would be such opposites in this topic."
"It would be pretty boring if we had the same answer to everything, wouldn't it?"
"Only if we had the wrong answers."
Reaching the end of the courtyard, Douma parted ways. "Meet me again tomorrow. Also, be careful of the guards! Winter is approaching, so we're protecting the temple from any desperate bandits!"
Murata returned to his room, cursing.
-
Later that night, Murata had Seiko come to his room.
"Why do you want to leave? How can I even trust you?" Murata asked in a hushed voice.
She spoke slowly, putting effort in each word. "Douma eats people. Not human."
Gesturing to his pack, she requested writing materials.
I saw him eat people months ago. I left without a sound but the memory haunts me. He is not human. As for trust? I have seen your 'stick.' You bring a weapon to this temple. You are still alive despite that and while they know you as Masao, you are actually Murata.
He glared at Seiko. Murata purposely had the kakushi modify the sheathe to require a demon slayer's strength to open. He also put a small lock on his pack.
How did she do it?
"Why not leave earlier?"
Lots of eyes and as a servant, I have nothing beyond these walls. What should I do? Starve?
"Why are you expecting me to help you?"
She looked at him with confusion, then gestured to the sword. An obvious conclusion. A swordsman was not poor.
"So, you were helping me so that I would take you with me?"
Yes. I hide things very well. No one knows, no one notices.
Sighing, Murata held back his headache. This could work out.
"Alright, I have a plan. I still have one more thing to do, but before that, I need your help again."
She nodded, patiently understanding her role.
-
Murata gazed at the scenery around him. It was beautiful, but carried a terrible secret.
It would be safer to leave now, but that would be spitting on his duty as a demon slayer.
Was it unnecessarily selfless and dangerous for one life? Of course it was, but to abandon a core tenet of his organization was tantamount to treason.
If someone asked him to help, then he should do his best. It was better to die and save a life than to run away.
Murata had more than enough to verify Douma's existence as Upper Two. He could have left much earlier, but he wanted to document as much as possible about Eternal Paradise. Their structure, locations, patterns of life.
If the Demon Slayer Corps could hinder the cult, then Douma would have to resort to other means to find humans to eat. He also finished writing notes about the Blue Spider Lily. The fact that Douma was looking for it at all was of interest.
It would take only one call for help to summon the hashira, but it was too early for a couple of reasons.
One, the hashira would die. No matter his warnings, they would fight to the death, as expected of their duty. But it would be their downfall. No one had the mark, and without that, one couldn't reach the Transparent World.
No one carried a red blade either. It was even worse against an opponent like Douma, who would freeze the battlefield around him, making it more difficult to heat the blade with grip strength alone.
Second, Murata wanted to gleam anything related to Muzan. He purposely avoided it after the first discussion, but now was the time to take that risk.
Entering Douma's room, Murata took a seat, his walking stick beside him.
"Ah, is the pain flaring up again?" Douma's brow furrowed.
Murata nodded. "It's unfortunate, but one of the consequences of being a traveler."
"It's a beautiful day for rest. Pity the clouds are covering the sky, but it is what it is."
Murata inwardly groaned at that remark. It was ill-fated luck.
"You look more curious than I've ever seen you. Ask, ask away!"
"When we first talked, you mentioned a man who gave you your gift. Who was he?" Murata asked.
Douma perked up, sitting up in rapt attention. "How could I forget him? Well, I can call him many things, but that night was perhaps my most terrifying. His presence felt like a natural disaster. Any move I made could cause him to erupt."
"Was he angry?"
Douma chuckled. "He's always had a short temper. Do you wish to meet him?"
Murata shook his head. "After your description, I would rather not."
"Don't worry! He can be merciful at times. Sometimes, he lives in Tokyo. Other times, in Osaka. He is a traveler like yourself, but he is also a doctor."
"Does he save lives?"
Douma frowned, pondering. "I would say yes. Yet, paradoxically, I would also say no."
"That's a strange answer," Murata said. "He saves lives, yet he doesn't?"
Douma shrugged, agreeing with Murata's assessment.
"Does he have a gift like yours?"
They sat in silence. The cold forced Murata to keep his hands hidden in his haori.
Douma hummed, thinking. "No, not at all. He's very mysterious. You could pass by him in the street and not even notice. Such is his existence."
Grinning wickedly, Douma explained further. "Maybe that man you upset was him. Or a child you pushed away. Perhaps that woman you ogled was him."
He widened his eyes, staring straight into Murata's soul.
"Do you want to become a demon?"
Murata's senses were alarming him. He forced himself to answer.
"Never."
"Shame," Douma tossed a dead crow in front of Murata. "I wanted to see long I should drag this out for. But, after all this, I'm met with disappointment. I did enjoy our conversations, for what it's worth."
"Can't say I did," Murata disagreed. Before he could unsheathe his sword, Douma flicked his fan, its sharp edge and accompanying ice slicing across Murata's chest.
Murata crashed through the door, hitting the courtyard on his back. Blood began staining the snow red. He lit a match in his sleeve.
Standing at the entrance of his temple, Douma frowned.
"I dismissed everyone. No one will hear your screams."
Murata threw a bomb at Douma's feet.
He cut through it quickly, the wisteria inside irritating Douma while the gunpowder erupted. The blast set off a cascade of explosions, the temple collapsing under the firepower of Seiko's well-placed traps.
Murata clenched his body tightly and breathed deliberately, trying to stem the blood. Seiko ran from one of the servant's sheds towards him. People began looking out the windows, shocked by the unexpected sound.
She helped him run, both pushing themselves to the limit.
"Damn it," Murata coughed, "Nobunaga was supposed to coordinate with the kakushi." He could mourn the death of her later, but now, they had to escape.
"I know a path to get to the woods faster," Seiko said.
They continued, yet Murata's dragging pace was costing them precious time.
A booming crash destroyed the stairs, causing both of them to fall painfully. A giant bodhisattva slammed its hand towards them. Seiko grabbed Murata and quickly plunged further down the mountain.
Rock and stone cut their skin as Murata tried to cushion the chaotic plummet with his body. They retreated into the woods.
Murata watched as the normally calm bodhisattva turn angry, its hands swiftly attacking the nearby surroundings in a barrage of punches.
They could hear the people in the mountains erupt with equal anger, their screams and shouts echoing down to the town.
"We have to keep moving," Seiko pushed him. Her left arm hung limp, and her legs were covered in bruises.
"I know," Murata's wounds agonized him. "Just a bit further."
He slumped to the ground. His breathing lost focus, which reopened the tear in his chest.
"Murata!" She carried him, his consciousness ebbing away.
TheDanny
Experienced.
- Joined
- May 14, 2022
- Messages
- 3,003
He really had that from their first meeting. While Doma keeps his eye markings hidden in his regular outings, all he has to do is lie and claim that Doma occasionally shows it off as a mark of the divine or something.
......where did he get the sheer amount of gunpowder from to collapse the entire temple? I mean, even Muzan was effected by wisteria laced explosions, so it makes sense that even Doma got staggered by this.
