The heavy, blood-red atmosphere of the Infinity Castle shattered in a single, surreal instant when Nakime’s plectrum struck her biwa with a sharp, discordant twang—not summoning the Twelve Kizuki to their usual ominous assembly, but instead dropping Upper Ranks One, Two, and Three into a brightly lit, velvet-trimmed room while completely swapping their battle attire for frilly, black-and-white maid dresses. Only because Muzan wanted to be entertained Akaza was the first to react, his jaw dropping in sheer, unadulterated horror as he looked down to find his sleeveless dogi replaced by a tight, waist-cinching corset, a heavily ruffled apron, and black thigh-high stockings that stretched tightly over his tattooed calves. Before he could even process the indignity of the lace trim fluttering against his legs, Douma let out a delighted gasp beside him, twirling in a sweeping, floor-length Victorian maid gown complete with a giant white headbow perched atop his crown of crimson-dyed hair.

"Oh, Akaza-dono! Look how fetching we are! Do you think Muzan-sama decided to rebrand us?"

Douma chirped, waving his gold-leaf fans to ruffle his white petticoats—an act that immediately drove Akaza to snap, his veins bulging on his forehead as he swung a violent, shockwave-infused fist straight through Douma’s head

"Shut up.." pent up anger was noticeable restrained in his tone

Meanwhile, standing completely rigid in the center of the room, Kokushibo slowly raised six glowing red eyes, his terrifying, centuries-old aura clashing violently with the crisp white headpiece pinned to his ponytail and the frills lining his floor-length apron; with a low, bone-chilling rumble that made even Douma pause his instant regeneration, the ancient samurai demon slowly gripped the hilt of his fleshy katana