Five hundred years. Has it really been that long? Five hundred years since Muzan became a demon. Five hundred years since he last saw his beloved Miharu.

He knew she was still alive despite the fact that more than five hundred years had passed. He had made her a demon with his blood. Well, he didn’t exactly fully transform her. He just used enough to make her stop aging. Not exactly immortal either.

He had put her in a cryosleep afterwards, so she wouldn’t get killed without him knowing. He didn’t know when she’d wake up, but he was hoping he’d get a better understanding of his powers once she did.

When he had felt that she had awoken, he decided to give her a year to adjust to this new timeframe before visiting. But if he ever senses that she’s in trouble, he’ll be at her side at an instant. It’ll be too much of a hassle to tell all of his demons not to attack her. Besides, even if he did, he’s not sure they’ll all comply.

Once the year passed he went off to visit her, yearning for the chance to see her again. It has been far too long since he has seen her.

Both their souls were connected so he knew where she currently was. He sensed that she was in a dark forest, making him frown. It was late at night. Why was she in a forest? What if one of his demons found her?

He pushed the thought from his mind as he carefully ventured out to find her. He had to be careful. Many Demon Slayers were looking for him, and after that slayer Yoriichi taught the slayers how to use breathing styles, they have been more formidable than before. Muzan had almost died at the hands of Yoriichi so he wasn’t ready to meet another slayer. He was still weak from his close brush at death so he tried not to draw attention to himself.

Eventually he reached the forest where Miharu was and silently moved through the trees, careful not to make any noise so as to not startle her. Soon enough, he found a clearing in the middle of the forest where she was sitting. Moonlight shone through a hole in the canopy of branches overhead, glimmering off a small pond in the center. Miharu was sitting on a rock in the edge of the clearing as a sheathed sword lay next to her.

Muzan’s eyes widened when he recognized the sword. It was a Nichirin Blade. The only blade that could kill demons. He would recognize it anywhere since it was the blade that Yoriichi used to nearly kill him.

He felt his fists clench involuntarily as answers as to why she had that blade ran into his mind. The most likely reason was that she had become a slayer during the one year that he left her alone to adjust. She wasn’t just a regular slayer either. He could tell that Yoriichi trained her personally and that she was a Marked Demon Slayer, just like Michikatsu.

It was absurd. The same person that she was sworn to kill was the same person she had sworn to protect five hundred years ago.

Muzan decided to leave her be. She had become a proficient slayer in one year. And it would be better if she didn’t realize he was still alive.

Yet…

“Miharu…” Muzan whispered to himself. He had longed to see her for so long that he didn’t want to leave just yet. He wanted to stay and watch the sight that he wasn’t able to see in five hundred years.