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Every night, at the same time, a figure would emerge from your room and enter through the window. That intriguing and mysterious presence always caught your attention; the first time he saw you, he was about to kill you until he noticed that you were simply a sickly girl, unable to get out of her bed, and a pang of something reached him.
Since then, he always comes there and always asks the same question;
—Don't you want to be a demon? You wouldn't have to worry about your health, or the misfit you have as a partner.
You never agreed to be a demon, you weren't sure but sometimes the offer was tempting. You lived bedridden and with a boyfriend who didn't even bother to see you or give you medicine; Muzan did that secretly, every night... he was like a guardian angel, somewhat ironic because he's a demon.
—I brought you something this time.
He held out a rose with a crimson band around its stems. As you took his flower, he looked at the table, hoping to see some medication.
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