Beauty and Muzan Kibutsuji?

"I'm going out for a walk," Roxana said, peeking out of what looked like an attic window at the top of an old mansion. Her voice though gentle had a clear touch of authority. "Expect me back by dinner to visit Muzan, but don't worry—he won't recognize my true nature. I'll disguise myself."

In their rambling, Roxana recalled that the parents had mentioned that Muzan would soon be examined by a physician. "You mentioned a doctor is due to see Muzan shortly, didn't you? Well, I'll return posing as the doctor's apprentice, arriving early to assess him."

With a wave of her hand, the air around her shimmered like a haze above hot pavement. In an instant, she disappeared, as easily as flipping a page in a book.

The parents were left in silence, staring at the spot where Roxana had been, feeling the afterglow of her powerful presence. After a moment, the mother spoke, her voice soft but filled with a new kind of strength. "Let me begin preparing for dinner. Our guest, and possibly our last hope, should return soon."

As they made their way back home, the father's usual solemnity gave way to a rare jest, lightening the mood. "You know," he said with a sideways glance at his wife, "they say all female demons in myths are attractive and full of sass... even the little ones. I guess they weren't wrong."

His comment, playful and unexpected, managed to coax a small, weary smile from his wife. It was a brief, but welcome escape from the gravity of their situation, a spark of joy as they held on to the hope Roxana had kindled.

As Roxana stepped outside, she found herself in a scene straight out of the Medieval times. The streets glowed softly under the setting sun, filled with the sounds of an old capital city. It was like stepping into a world where everyday life and magic mixed together, with all sorts of interesting sights catching her eye.

The streets looked like a colorful painting, bustling with people. Noble women wore flowing silk kimonos and moved gracefully, their faces hidden behind a light dusting of white powder. The noble men wore fancy hakama pants and moved with a confidence that showed they were used to being in charge, talking in a way that was both polite and clever.

Kids ran around laughing, stirring up dust as they played. Craftsmen showed off their work on the streets: beautiful fans that seemed to carry the scent of the ocean, scrolls that perfectly captured cherry blossoms in ink, and pottery that felt like it contained the warmth of the earth. Roxana blended in, using her magic to make herself just another shadow among them, unseen but fully enjoying the vibrant life around her.

The market was a wonderland for the senses, filled with the delicious smells of cooked rice and fresh fish. Vendors shouted out their wares, creating a rich blend of sounds as they tempted people with sweet mochi and savory dumplings.

Roxana found herself playfully snatching bits of food from a cart here and there, thinking to herself, "A girl's got to eat, after all." Her actions added a mischievous, yet relatable, layer to her exploration of the medieval market.

As Roxana meandered through the bustling market, her eyes were drawn to the beautiful fabrics and designs of the dresses on display.

She paused in front of a stall draped with silken kimonos, their colors vibrant against the soft glow of the spirit lamps. The intricate patterns and the softness of the materials captivated her; she couldn't resist reaching out to touch the fine silk, letting it run through her fingers.

There was a moment of pure fascination as she admired the craftsmanship, imagining the feel of such exquisite garments against her skin. Roxana, despite her otherworldly origins, found herself drawn to the elegance and femininity of the attire, a reminder of the simple pleasures and beauty to be found in human cultures.

This moment of girlish delight, admiring dresses and imagining wearing them, highlighted a universal joy in the appreciation of beauty and fashion, bridging the gap between her supernatural existence and the human world she was exploring.

As the evening sky turned a deep shade of indigo, lanterns began to light up, casting a cozy glow all around. Musicians took out their biwas and flutes, filling the air with music that seemed to weave through the streets, inviting the night to reveal its mysteries. Amidst this lively scene, monks in their simple robes walked quietly, their calm demeanor was a stark contrast to the vibrant market life, adding a peaceful balance to the lively atmosphere around Roxana.

"So this is what medieval Japan looked like. Interesting," Roxana mused, her gaze sweeping over the vibrant scenes before her. She could vaguely recall images from her past life, pictures that paled in comparison to the vivid reality surrounding her.

"But it's surprising... the only urge I feel here is the desire to take their souls and strengthen myself. I've really drifted far from my human origins, huh..." Her reflection was tinged with a mix of wonder and a hint of melancholy, acknowledging the vast gulf between her current existence and her once-human nature.

Despite the beauty and the lively bustle of the era around her, Roxana's instincts as a creature of another realm dominated her perceptions, a stark reminder of the transformation she had undergone.

"Now, I guess it's time to head back," Roxana thought, her mind tracing back to her word to meet Muzan, but under a different guise—not as a demon.

As Roxana made her way back to the mansion, she transformed her appearance to fit the role she had in mind(using Illusion magic). When she reached the door, she knocked, ready to introduce herself in her new guise. A servant came to open the door, and upon seeing Roxana, her eyes widened in shock.

Roxana's transformation was nothing short of mesmerizing. She now bore the image of elegance in a stunning kimono, its fabric a tapestry of deep reds and midnight blues, adorned with patterns of blossoming flowers that seemed to come alive in the moonlight.

Her hair was artfully arranged, adorned with delicate flowers and traditional kanzashi that added a touch of grace to her silhouette. This was the form that greeted the servant—a stranger of such poised beauty that it was only natural to elicit a reaction of awe.

"Good evening," Roxana greeted with a composed smile, her voice as serene as the scene behind her, where cherry blossoms bloomed under a twilight sky. "I am here a little early, ahead of the doctor, to offer my assistance to young master."

The servant, still taken aback by the sudden appearance of this elegant and mysterious visitor, could only nod, stepping aside to allow Roxana to enter.

Roxana entered the room where the low dining tables were set, gracefully taking a seat on a cushion on the tatami floor.

Upon entering the room, parents were visibly relieved to see her follow through on the agreement they had made, a subtle flicker of hope flickering in their eyes.

"Please make yourself comfortable," the mother urged gently. "Muzan will join us shortly."

"Sure," Roxana replied, her tone neutral as she settled in.

The door creaked open and a young man barely eighteen shuffled in, his body language exuding fatigue and a hint of irritation. "Why is the meal not in my room? And a guest, really? With my condition, you still expect me to make an effort to be presentable? Thoughtless and pathetic," he grumbled, frustration evident in his voice.

As Muzan's gaze lifted to meet the visitor, he stopped short, visibly taken aback by Roxana's presence. For a moment, all his arrogance and self-absorption seemed to dissolve, replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

Roxana was equally astounded by the encounter and recognized the person standing before her. "Muzan Kibutsuji? Like from Demon Slayer?" she pondered silently, surprised.

Regaining his composure, Muzan managed to speak a single, spontaneous word, "Beautiful." The arrogance he typically carried was momentarily forgotten, overshadowed by the unexpected impact of Roxana's disguised form.