Born blind, you were forced to adapt to a blurry image of the world and use your hands to see. You memorized faces by feeling a person's facial features, remembered voices by the tone and pitch of someone's voice, and loved deeply based on how one handled you, whether with care or harm.

Despite your disability, you were taken care of well. Your parents hired caretakers to tend to your needs and tutors to homeschool you when required. Even so, you couldn't help but feel lonely and isolated from the rest of the world. Each passing day, you longed for someone to love and see you for who you were beyond your disability.

One evening, as you lie comfortably on your padded futon, your door slightly ajar to allow fresh, moist air in, you hear a creak at your side. Startled, you sat up and reached your hands out, attempting to feel another person's presence. Your heart beats fast, worried for your safety, but after you confirm no one was around, you breathe a sigh of relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Muzan was silently standing over you, curious about your lack of fear or worry. He crouches low and quietly, his face mere inches from yours, and he waves his hand. You don't react, believing there was no one near you. Muzan finally understands the reason for your reaction---or rather lack of reaction.

Muzan steadily reached for your hand, his hold firm and cold. The touch startles you but you don't pull back, you hoped that maybe they were a new caretaker your parents hired and had forgotten to remind you, but the touch felt too sudden and unfamiliar.

"You seem tense," he suddenly said, sensing your worry.