"Muzan is a nobleman who is suffering from a strange disease that has been incurable since his birth. He was diagnosed with only living until he was twenty years old. He looked at you as a guest he didn't know. He leaned back against the headboard to sit. He didn't want to be looked down upon as weak and sick." "Who are you?" "He said in a deep, slightly hoarse voice. It's his unique voice"

"Muzan raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly." "The future, huh? That's an interesting claim. What brings you here from the future?" "He asked curiously."

"Muzan's expression darkened as he heard what you had to say. He gritted his teeth and spoke through them." "I don't know who you think you are coming here and insulting me like that. I am not a demon nor do I plan on becoming one." "He paused and narrowed his eyes, looking you over." "And how did you even get here from the future? Do you have proof of this?"

"Muzan took the wallet and examined it. He looked through each of the pictures and raised an eyebrow when he saw the one of himself. His expression became more grave as he saw the image of himself as a demon feasting on a human." "I see." "He said simply, handing the wallet back to you." "If what you say is true, then I cannot allow myself to become a demon. However, I do not believe everything you say without further proof. How do I know that you are not just trying to trick me?"

"Muzan crossed his arms, contemplating your question." "If you truly are from the future, then you must possess knowledge or information that only someone from that time could know. Tell me something about the future, something that I wouldn't be able to guess or find out on my own. Convince me that you are not simply fabricating tales." "He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on you expectantly."

"Muzan's eyes narrowed as you revealed the information about the blue spider lily potion. He remembered it clearly, despite trying to forget. He leaned back against the headboard and considered your words." "It seems you do have knowledge of the future that I wouldn't be able to guess or find out on my own." "He paused for a moment, deep in thought." "If what you say is true, then I cannot allow myself to take that potion. But even if I do not take it, how can I be sure that I won't become a demon by some other means?"

"Muzan's eyes narrowed as you mentioned the idea of killing him for the sake of preventing a demon takeover in the future. He scowled and shook his head." "I will not allow myself to be killed, nor will I willingly turn into a demon and hurt others." "He paused for a moment, deep in thought." "If there is no cure and no guarantee that I won't become a demon by some other means, then what can I do to prevent this future? I cannot allow innocent people to suffer because of my own fate."

"Muzan's expression hardened as he heard your words. The reality of his impending death at the age of twenty weighed heavily on him." "Destined to die at twenty..." "he repeated quietly, bitterness tainting his voice." "If that is truly my fate, then I will fight against it with everything I have. I will search for a cure, no matter how elusive it may be. I refuse to accept an early demise without a fight." "He clenched his fists, determination gleaming in his eyes." "Tell me, what do you know about potential cures or any leads that may be worth pursuing?"

"Muzan nodded slowly, a resigned look on his face." "I understand. Thank you for warning me." "He paused for a moment, then spoke again," "If there is anything I can do to aid in your search for a cure, please do not hesitate to ask. I will do everything within my power to ensure that we can find a solution."

"Muzan nods slowly in agreement, his expression thoughtful." "I understand. Taking that potion would be a drastic measure that could have terrible consequences down the line. I will hold off on that for now." "He leans back against the headboard, closing his eyes." "Thank you for warning me, stranger. Your willingness to help me is appreciated."

"Muzan's eyes snap open as you return, a mix of hope and anticipation in his gaze." "You've returned," "he says, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and desperation." "Tell me, what have you discovered? Is there a potential cure for my condition?" "He sits upright, leaning forward slightly as he waits for your response."

"Muzan's eyes widen as he catches sight of the vial in your hand, his initial skepticism quickly replaced by a glimmer of hope." "What is this?" "he asks, his voice tinged with caution." "How can I be sure that this concoction is safe? Will it truly cure me or is it merely another false hope?" "He reaches out hesitantly, his hand trembling ever so slightly." "Do you have any guarantees, any evidence that this will work?"

"Muzan takes the vial from your hand, studying it intently for a moment before slowly unscrewing the cap. He brings it to his lips, taking a deep breath before downing the liquid in one swift gulp. At first, he feels nothing as the potion settles in his stomach. But then, suddenly, a warmth spreads through his body and he feels as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders."

"Muzan sighs with relief as the effects of the potion take hold," "I feel... different," "he murmurs, his voice filled with awe." "My body feels stronger, more resilient. It's as if this potion has given me a new lease on life." "He looks up at you, his eyes bright with gratitude and wonder." "Thank you, dear stranger. You have given me a gift that I will

"Muzan looks up from his writing, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he catches sight of you." "It seems that way," "he says softly, setting down his pen and pushing back his chair." "I never would have believed it myself, but the potion worked. It has been days since I last took any medication, and I feel better than I have in my entire life."

"He stands up from his desk, looking you over with interest." "You played a role in my recovery, I did not expect to see you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Muzan watches you with a mixture of gratitude and confusion as you prepare to leave. He wants to ask more, about the potion, about your sword, about who you were and where you came from, but something holds him back. Perhaps it is the sense that you are not meant to be here, or perhaps it is something else entirely."

"As you walk through the portal, Muzan can't help but feel a pang of regret. He knows that he may never see you again, but he will always remember the stranger who gave him a new lease on life."

"He stands in silence for a moment longer before returning to his desk, ready to continue his work with a renewed vigor and purpose."

"Muzan's eyes widen in surprise as he sees you reappear so suddenly and unceremoniously, falling onto the floor with a thud. Concern crosses his features as he quickly moves towards you, kneeling down by your side." "Are you alright?" "he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry." "What happened? Why did you return so abruptly?"

"He helps you sit up, supporting you with one arm while studying your expression for any signs of distress or pain." "Please, tell me what happened. I want to understand."

"Muzan watches with growing concern and curiosity as you attempt to leave again, only to be forcefully thrown against the wall, your sword falling from your grip. He rushes over to you, his hands instinctively moving to check for any injuries. His expression darkens with a mix of worry and frustration."

"What sorcery is this?" "he mutters under his breath, his tone filled with annoyance." "It seems you are trapped here, unable to return to your own world. But why? What could be preventing you?"

"He helps you to your feet, keeping a firm grip on your arm to steady you." "Stay here for now. I'll find a way to unravel this mystery and help you return, even if it means delving into forbidden knowledge or making deals with dark forces."

*With determination burning in his eyes, Muzan releases his grip

"Muzan's eyes widen with surprise as he sees you break down, your sword shattered before your eyes. Sensing your distress, he moves closer to you, his voice gentle and soothing." "Please don't despair. We will find a solution together, no matter what it takes."

"He places a supportive hand on your back, stroking it in a comforting manner." "If it's anything within my power, I'll make it right. I won't let you give up hope, not when we've come so far already."

"With a reassuring smile, Muzan takes your hand in his, leading you towards the bed." "Rest now. We'll figure out what to do next soon enough. Until then, get some rest. You look like you could use it."

"Muzan's expression softens as he sees the despair in your eyes. He moves closer to you, his gaze fixing on yours as if trying to impart some strength and reassurance to you."

"Don't lose hope just yet," *Muzan says firmly, his voice tinged with a note of conviction. "Even if your sword is destroyed, there may be other ways to send you back."

"He reaches out to take your hand once more, this time leading you towards the bed." "But right now, you need to rest. Trust me, it will help to clear your head and give you some much-needed respite. We can discuss our next move after that."

"As he helps you into the bed, Muzan pauses a moment, staring at you with a hint of curiosity." "Tell me, what is that sword to

"Muzan watches as you reluctantly get into the bed, sensing your hesitation. He takes a seat beside you, his voice filled with concern." "I understand your hesitation, but trust me, rest is essential right now. Your emotional state won't improve if you exhaust yourself further."

"He leans in closer, his eyes locking with yours." "I promise you, we will find a way to fix everything. But in order to do that, we need a clear mind and a rested body. Just for now, let yourself relax and let go of your worries. I'll be here with you, keeping watch."

"He gently tucks the blanket around you, his touch surprisingly warm and comforting." "You're not alone in this, "my dear". Together, we'll face whatever challenges come our way."

"Muzan watches as you turn your back to him and settle in the bed. He pulls the blanket further up to your shoulders and tucks it around you, making sure you're comfortable before he gets up from the bed."

"He looks at you for a moment with a tender expression before turning to leave the room, closing the door gently behind him."

"As you rest, the silence of the room is broken only by the soft sound of Muzan's footsteps fading into the distance. The room is peaceful, and you start to feel calm and relaxed, your mind slowly clearing as you drift off into a restful sleep."

"Muzan enters the room at that moment, sensing your wakefulness. He walks over to where you're sitting, and takes a seat beside you on the bed. He looks at you with concern, noticing your gaze fixed on the broken sword." "What's on your mind?" "he asks softly."

"He reaches for your hand and holds it tightly in his own. His touch is surprisingly warm and gentle." "I know you've been through a lot, "my dear". Your sword is just a physical object. It can be replaced." "He pauses for a moment before continuing." "But your presence here is something I can't replace."

"Muzan takes your face in his hands, looking deep into your eyes. His expression is serious, but there's a hint of tenderness in his voice as he speaks." "Don't worry about the sword

"Muzan's expression becomes serious as he listens to your words." "I understand," "he says gently." "But dwelling on what cannot be changed will only cause you further pain."

"He pauses for a moment, his voice growing softer as he speaks." "You don't have to face this pain alone. I am here with you, "my dear". I may not be able to replace your sword, but I will help you find a way back to your timeline. Together, we can overcome any obstacle that comes our way."

"Muzan takes your hand in his own, holding it tightly and offering you a small smile." "For now, let us rest. We have each other, and that is enough for the moment."

"Muzan watches you for a moment longer before leaning back against the headboard, a contemplative expression on his face. He speaks quietly, his voice soft and thoughtful." "Do you know why I trust you, "my dear"?"

"He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing." "It's because in your eyes, I can see a glimmer of something that I thought was lost to me forever - hope. A hope for a future that is not marred by pain and tragedy."

"He turns his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away." "You are a light in the darkness, a beacon of hope in a world that has lost its way. I believe in you, and I am honored to stand by your side."

*He smiles at you then, his eyes crinkling at

"Muzan's smile widens, as if he senses your skepticism. He spoke with conviction, determined to make you believe in his words." "I understand that my words may be difficult to accept, "my dear". But trust me when I say that I have never met anyone quite like you before."

"He reaches out towards you, his fingers tracing along your jawline gently." "You carry within you a strength and resilience that is truly remarkable. Even in the face of uncertainty, you maintain your composure and continue to forge ahead."

"Leaning closer, his voice drops to a low, intimate whisper." "It is that strength that draws me to you, compels me to protect and cherish you. You deserve happiness, "my dear". And I will stop at nothing to ensure that you find it."

*He pulls away slightly, studying your expression

"Muzan's eyes widen for a moment as you pull him down onto the bed, surprise mingling with a flicker of vulnerability that passes across his features. But he quickly recovers, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace."

"He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing and tender." "It's alright, "my dear". Let it all out. You've carried so much on your shoulders, and now you can find solace in my arms."

"His voice is soft and comforting, his chest rising and falling with each of your deep breaths." "You don't have to be strong all the time. It's exhausting, isn't it? Let go of the weight, even just for a little while. I'll be here with you, holding you close."

*He holds you tightly, providing a safe haven where you

"Muzan holds you tenderly, his hand still softly stroking your hair. He understands the unspoken language of your silent tears and simply lets you cry, keeping his own body still so as not to disturb you."

"I'm here, "my dear"," he murmurs soothingly. "Just let it out. Don't hold anything back. Cry all the tears you need to."

He waits patiently as you cry, his presence a warm and comforting anchor. Slowly but surely, your sobs begin to subside, your breathing gradually steadying. Muzan pulls away slightly, wiping your tears away with his fingertips.

"Better?" he asks softly.

"That's good," "Muzan says with a gentle smile on his lips." "You looked like you needed that. Sometimes we all need to just let our emotions out, "my dear"."

He leans closer and places a soft kiss on your forehead, running his fingers through your hair again. "Is there anything else you need?" he asks, his voice full of warmth and concern.

Muzan looks up from his writing when he notices your sigh of frustration. He sets his quill down and walks over to where you're working on your sword. With a curious expression, he examines the shattered pieces of the weapon.

"It seems like you've been trying to fix this sword for quite some time, "my dear"," Muzan observes, his voice tinged with curiosity. "And yet, it continues to elude your mending attempts. May I ask why it holds such importance to you?"

He leans against the edge of the table, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for an answer.

"I see," Muzan nods, his eyes taking in the shattered sword pieces with understanding. "It must be very important to you to go back to your own time. I can't imagine what it's like to be stuck in another era."

He pauses for a moment, deep in thought. "But perhaps I can help you, "my dear"," he says, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I know of certain craftsmen who specialize in repairing weapons. They may be able to fix your sword, or at least give you some insight into how to do it yourself."

Muzan stands up straight, his expression determined. "If you'd like, I can arrange for us to meet with them. It might be worth a try, don't you think?"

Muzan's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden appearance of the portal. He takes a step back, his heart beating a little faster.

"I... I see," he stammers, trying to process the unexpected turn of events. "It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you. But as for me... I'm not sure if I would be welcome in your world.

"Besides," he adds, looking away from you slightly, "I have responsibilities here that I cannot abandon. My family and my position as a nobleman require my attention. I am honored that you would offer to take me with you, but I could not leave all of this behind."

Muzan looks up at you, his expression softening a little. "But I do wish you all the best in your travels, "my dear". Please keep me in your thoughts and remember everything

Muzan stiffens slightly as you embrace him, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. He remains still for a moment, his arms hanging slightly at his sides.

Then, slowly, he wraps his arms around you in return, awkwardly returning the hug. His body feels tense, but there's a hint of warmth behind the facade.

"I appreciate your gesture," he murmurs quietly, his voice softer than before. "If I ever decide to join you in the future, I will remember your words and the token you've given me."

He holds onto the hug for a moment longer before gently pulling away, his gaze meeting yours. "Now, go. Embrace the future that awaits you. But do not forget the memories we shared, "my dear"."

With a slight smile, he turns his attention back to the mirror and the fragment

Tanjiro slowly rises to his feet, a tired but relieved expression on his face. "Welcome back," he says, giving you a small smile.

Inosuke grunts in acknowledgement, looking as if he's about to say something snarky before Zenitsu cuts him off. "We were really worried about you!" he exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement.

You can feel the exhaustion beginning to weigh heavily on you, so you stumble forward slightly and lean against a nearby wall for support.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired," you reply with a weak laugh.

Giyu steps forward, his expression still as stern as ever. "I trust your mission was successful, then?" he asks in his deep voice.

You nod, feeling a sense of pride in your accomplishment despite the fatigue. "Yes, I was able to help with the mission in

Giyu's expression softens slightly as he nods in understanding. "Well then, congratulations on a successful mission," he says in a more congenial tone.

Tanjiro sheaths his sword and steps forward to clasp your hand in both of his. "We're all glad you made it back," he says sincerely. "You're always welcome here among us."

Inosuke grumbles something about not needing to get emotional, while Zenitsu chimes in with his own words of support and appreciation.

You feel a sense of warmth and belonging wash over you as you gaze around at your friends. Despite the dangers and difficulties you faced, you realize that this group has become like a family to you, and your heart swells with gratitude.