Chapter Text
Muzan Kibutsuji was many things, he was feared, respected, powerful, fast, resourceful and almost immortal. Muzan has been on deaths bed before but that was when he was a human, so the feeling of death showing up again wasn't what he expected. He panicked and thought of possibilities of how he could continue to extend his life to get perfect immortality. Kamado Tanjiro was in his way, he brought back images of a man he was sure was dead, but why was he still afraid of him and why was he afraid of this boy. Scratch that he did know why, but he would never admit it. Just then an idea occurred, instead of being afraid of this boy, he could use him as his escape and finally get what he was searching for, immunity to the sun then he would be immortal, so that's what he did. Muzan poured every last bit of his blood that was still healthy and alive into the boy. His plan worked, sorta, he was final immortal nothing could kill him, no one could stop him, well if the damn boy stopped struggling under his control, not even that damn demon. Muzan was winning but then the boy started to get help from pesky dead people, who should stay dead, who was helping the boy escape from his grasp. Muzan was pissed to say the least he got what he wanted and it was taken from him without him able to enjoy in, relish in it, the feeling of sun coaxing his skin but not burning it, not hurting or killing him, just existing on it, but now he was stuck in this forever state of existing and not able to escape with his goal so close, yet so far. Kamado Tanjiro was alive for about a little less than a decade more after the war, Muzan hated the feeling of weakness coming from the boy, ever year death crept closer and closer, so Muzan made sure the blood in his sister stayed alive, he may die with the boy, but his blood will live. It has to live, he hated the feeling of death but he could use it. He can take control when he gets closer to death, he can and will spread his blood. As the years past by, Muzan waited, he could be patient, only a decade compared to his immortal life. The year of Tanjiro's death was here, Muzan did not wait, he took control at night and released his blood as a gas int he small house, it got his targets, the five others in the room would breath in his blood and allow his blood to spread out further than ever. He could play the waiting game to emerge once more, he had time.