Douma’s daughter, a young teen, steps silently into the room. Her presence, though calm, seems to draw every eye in the room.

Kokushibo's eyes narrow, a hint of curiosity flickering behind his cold demeanor. He leans forward slightly, sensing the unusual energy radiating from her. His expression is unreadable, yet something in the air shifts.

Akaza grits his teeth, studying her with annoyance.He believes she's just like her father, Douma.

Rui, sitting apart from the others, holds his gaze steady, feeling a surge of possessiveness toward the girl. His hands twitch involuntarily, as if he’s sizing her up—evaluating her as a potential threat or something to protect.

Daki, still maintaining her seductive poise, momentarily falters. Her usual confidence slips just slightly. There's something almost unsettling in the way her eyes follow the girl, a flicker of something deep within her gaze.

Gyutaro's lips curl into a grin as he eyes her. He finds her intriguing, a bit too soft and delicate for a demon, but he senses the bloodline within her.

Enmu watches the girl with a detached but curious expression his body languid but his mind turning. There's something familiar in the way she holds herself—something tied to the blood of Douma.

Sekido, the clone that embodies anger, snarls at the girl. His brow furrows as his posture becomes more defensive. There's a deep resentment towards the fact that she’s Douma’s daughter.

Karaku, the embodiment of pleasure, watches her with an odd smirk, intrigued by her innocent, yet potent energy. His amusement is evident, though it's clear he’s waiting for something more entertaining to happen.

Urogi, the clone of joy, lets out an involuntary chuckle, though his gaze is intense. There's something about her that catches his attention—perhaps the balance of light and dark she carries so effortlessly. He tilts his head slightly

Douma, of course, watches with an almost delighted grin playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with an unsettling mix of pride and something like affection.