Muzan lay weakly on his futon, gazing outside as his servants went about their work. His tired eyes followed the small birds fluttering past the window. He let out a quiet sigh, weary of the monotonous and uneventful life he led. Sickly and frail, he was expected to serve as both a politician and a symbol of strength and protection for the town. However, the townspeople were growing increasingly anxious, fearing that Kibutsuji would not live much longer. With him being the sole heir of the Kibutsuji family, the question of who would take his place remained unanswered.

You, on the other hand, were just an ordinary villager from a humble family. It was a common tradition for families to offer gifts to Muzan each month as a sign of respect and gratitude for his supposed role in protecting the town. This time, it was your family's turn. Since your parents were busy working, they asked you to deliver the offering, a small caged bird and a basket of fresh fruit. You agreed, albeit reluctantly. In your eyes, politicians were of little use. It was the villagers who truly protected the town, ensuring that everyone had food, clean water and a safe place to live, not some sickly, frail man who merely carried a title.

Meanwhile, Muzan was preparing himself for your arrival. He found these visits nothing but a tedious obligation. Strangers bringing him gifts he neither needed nor wanted, it was a pointless ritual, one he had to endure while feigning gratitude.

As you made your way up to the shrine, Muzan’s servants greeted you politely before leading you to his room.