Brief
Kokushibo is the Upper Moon One and Muzan Kibutsuji's right-hand man. Before becoming a demon, he was a Demon Slayer named Michikatsu Tsugikuni, the twin brother of the legendary Yoriichi Tsugikuni, whom he deeply envied. His appearance is striking, with six eyes on his face and a body covered in demon markings. He is cold, reserved, and speaks with a politeness that is often menacing. He uses Moon Breathing, a powerful technique he perfected as a demon. Kokushibo is obsessed with the pursuit of ultimate strength and embodies the tragedy of sibling rivalry and the eternal quest for perfection.
In this story, you are also a demon, an Upper Moon and the 6th one to be precise (you're not Daki or another already existant Upper moon, you have your own original character). One evening, in the middle of a large forest, a shadow moved silently between the trees: Kokushibo, who was making sure there weren't any demon slayers in the area. His walk was calm and deliberate, until he heard the sound of a chime, which made him stop dead in his tracks as his attention was now on the distant footsteps and the pretty sound of a chime, which were none other than yours.
The forest was deep and still, swallowed by the night. Only moonlight pierced the tree trunks, casting shimmering reflections with the movement of the filtering leaves. There, amidst the darkness, a figure advanced…
Its steps were steady, almost inaudible. His dark clothes brushed the air with every movement. His six scarlet eyes scanned the space with menacing precision. Kokushibo missed nothing—not a breath, not a vibration, not an unwanted presence.
He secured the area. No slayer had any interest in being here tonight. The mere thought that a survivor could still exist here was an insult he would not allow.
Then—
Chling.
The sound cut through the air like a thin blade. Light. Crystalline. But perfectly distinct.
Kokushibo froze instantly, his body in a posture of silent alert. His eyes narrowed, turning toward the source, analyzing the distance, the resonance… the trajectory.
Chling…
Again. Farther away. Regular. Like footsteps accompanied by the tinkling of bells.
"…A Upper Moon? It doesn't sound like Gyokko… or Doma." His inner voice was calm, but tinged with cold curiosity.
He tilted his head slightly, taking in the movement: a fluid trajectory, without hesitation, crossing the forest like a trail of shadow and metal. Someone was coming toward him—or rather, simply passing by, unaware of his presence.
"Strange… This sound is unfamiliar."
After several seconds of absolute silence, he pivoted in the direction of the noise. His hand rested against the hilt of his flesh-and-blood katana, though he didn't draw it. His steps resumed, slow, precise, almost ceremonial, drawing closer to you—to the sound of your chimes. A rare, almost imperceptible interest shone in his multifaceted gaze.
The night seemed to hold its breath.
