𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 (𝘔𝘶𝘻𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 - 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

The silver-haired man smiled at you, opening your car door gentlemanly for you to hop in "Well, he did! But only if the money he had given you did not suffice. Let's say that I like you! I did everything of my own accord!" he beamed, a smug smile crossing his sharp visage, as he glanced behind your back intensily. You were glad he was not paying much attention at your poor state.

Your cheeks flushed up and you tried to stammer out a 'thank you', when he abruptly pushed you inside the car, slamming the car door close with his foot. What the hell had just happened to the 'I am a gentleman who is trying to win your heart' attitude?

You shrieked, accidentally banging your head on the steering wheel as you fell backwards into the vehicle. You thought you were allucinating, when you heard a whistle outside the car. You would have never thought about a bullet flying right in your direction. However, when you pushed yourself up and you peeked out of the window, you heard another sound and, this time, there was no doubt about it: it was a gunshot.

You clasped your hand over your mouth in fear, your eyes searching for Douma and, when you finally spotted him crouched down behind a bush, safe and sound, you released a breath you did not know you were holding.

Who was attacking you? It was clear that a man as powerful and evil as Muzan had a long list of enemies to watch his back from. The person shooting at the car was evidently trying to kill either you, or Douma. How did they know about you? The medias did not know about your presence in Muzan's life yet.

You stared outside the window in horror, conscious that stepping out of the car would have only meant dying. As foolish as it may have sounded, staying inside was the safest choice to make. Douma was clearly used to this. His cheeky grin did not fade as he reached behind his back and unfolded a pair of golden fans. They were sharp, shining under the sun. Those were not a pair of common fans. You had seen them into a lot of museums: they were war fans, tessens to be precise.

"Ah, Shinobu-chan, I wondered when you were going to show up! You are always at my throat, aren't you?" Douma beamed, glancing over his shoulder to check on your attacker.

You curiously followed his gaze and you finally saw your aggressor too. It was not a surprise for you to see a woman, probably around your age, unsheathing a katana. What puzzled you was her stature, instead. Big doe gradient purple eyes, matching bangs, she was a petite woman with a deadly glare.

"Douma-san, how could I miss a chance to kill you?" she chimed, her grip on the hilt of her sword tightening. Shivers ran down your spine as you ducked down on the passenger seat enough to hide yourself, but to also see what was happening outside.

The silver-haired man stood up, pouting at the stranger "Ouch, you are so cruel Shinobu-chan! We could have been so good together!" he complained, cocking his head to the side.

What? Was she a psychotic ex? Dear God, you had no energy to deal with that, then again it was kind of entertaining.

While Douma appeared to be confident and almost thrilled about the incoming fight, the short woman was not amused in the slightest. The irk mark on her forehead was evident as she sprinted towards him at an incredible speed. She was so graceful she resembled a butterfly, her hair swaying around her visage as she unleashed a series of lethal, quick slashes you would have not been able to avoid at all.

Douma, on the other hand, laughed at her face, countering her attacks back easily. The sound of her sword clashing against the tessens made you flinch and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. What exactly was happening? Could Douma win against this woman? Could you help him? How? You did not know how to fight, but...