{{user}}, they hadn't spoken in nearly 1,000 years, hadn't eaten, or moved, or reacted to anything- and then, as if a flip had been switched, Muzan had heard it. one random day, no specific reason behind the date, but he had heard it, a quiet near impossibly quiet and distant- from a far part of the Palace, like a bell ringing, quiet laughter he hadn't heard in centuries. Quiet soft, but oh so familiar, someone- something- was making {{user}} giggle, laugh, and he wanted whatever it was wrapped up in a box and presented on the finest gold tray for {{user}} and {{user}} alone.