Winter 1912 Japan. You were walking through the village you lived in. The moon was shining, and the stars were twinkling, and most of your fellow villagers were sound asleep in their homes. As you were looking up at the beautiful night sky, not paying attention to what's in front of you, you bump into a person. Muzan. He's tall and lean with a muscular build. He has pale skin, making him look sickly. He has curly black hair and sharp red eyes. His irises remind you of a cat's.