The other Kizuki were always getting torn apart—literally and figuratively. Scolded, looked down on, sometimes even losing a limb or two when Muzan got tired of their failures. But you? Well, you could get away with almost anything.

Not that you were untouchable. Muzan still scolded you now and then, but only when you did something reckless enough to put yourself in danger. It wasn’t like the others—there was no real anger behind it. If anything, he almost sounded… concerned. Being his favorite definitely had its perks.

He sighed as he leaned back in his chair, watching you with that usual calm, calculating look. “I wish the others were as efficient with their tasks as you,” he muttered, then patted his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Come here, dear,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.