I, Kibutsuji Muzan, Does Not Want To Die (Patreon)

Chapter 13: Service

Splash!

“Haaah…! Haaah…! Haaah…! I’m… alive…!”

I survived.

I survived!

I’m alive, I’m still myself.

The shadow of death is gone.

My body aches terribly, the wounds haven’t fully healed, and the cold water stings like knives.

Dragging myself out of the river, I crawled along the bank with only my right arm.

Head, upper body, and right arm—that was all I could move.

What a pitiful sight I must have been.

And yet, I didn’t die… even when I was blown apart into pieces the size of fists, I didn’t die. My absurd vitality disgusts even me.

“I’m alive… I’m alive…!”

No shadow of death lingers now, I can keep on living.

I can live… Ah…

I will keep on living…

“Yoriichi…”

As my body slowly regenerated, I whispered the name of the friend who I had turned my back to.

He had come with such gentle resolve to end me, and I… I fled.

If I could claim that I ran because I didn’t want to burden my friend with the sin of killing me… perhaps that would ease this pain in my chest.

But the truth is simple: I was afraid to die.

I didn’t want to die, so I ran from him.

Shamelessly, disgracefully, I fled for the sake of survival alone.

“What a… disgrace I am…”

Even Tamayo was there at that time—Tamayo, who had tried to shield me from the demon slayer, Yoriichi, until the very last moment.

And I abandoned even her.

“Tamayo… what has become of you…?”

To worry for her now, after I cast her aside… how shallow, how pathetic.

No—wait…

“…The connection with the demons… it’s thin.”

Before, I always felt a direct link to them, but now that link has weakened… thinned, perhaps.

I can hardly issue commands to them, nor sense what they are doing.

Shiver

In that instant, a vision flashed across my mind: countless demons running amok, slaughtering humans at will.

It was only imagination—but if left unchecked, such a future could very well come true.

“I… must reestablish my link with the demons…”

My body being blasted to pieces must have severed the connection.

To restore it, I need to approach them directly again.

And Tamayo… my bond with her, too, has been severed.

I cannot tell if she lives.

I cannot tell… and yet…

“Even if she survives… Tamayo will never return to me…”

In the moment my flesh was scattered, her final thought… Tamayo’s final will was—

Ben!

Clatter

“Muzan-sama!”

As I healed and brooded, a sliding door suddenly appeared before me and flung open without pause.

Beyond it, Nakime leaned forward, staring at me.

“Muzan-sama! Thank goodness! When our link with you suddenly vanished, I feared some terrible fate had befallen you—!”

“Ah… forgive me, it was a close call. You saved me, Nakime…”

Already, my limbs had regenerated.

But the scars carved into me… the wounds Yoriichi left—

Those alone would never fade, and even now, they tormented me.

“For now, this way, please. I shall also prepare garments for you…”

“Ah…”

Obeying Nakime’s words, I took heavy steps toward the sliding door.

With every step, a wet squelch echoed, blood-tinged water dripping from my body.

I glanced at the distant sky—it was paling with the coming dawn. 

Considering that my encounter with Yoriichi had been at midnight, I must have been drifting down that river for quite some time.

Tonight… was the worst of nights.

In the end, I was forced to recognize myself again as nothing more than a coward who fears death.

I knew, rationally, that I ought to die. Yet I could not accept death.

If I died, the future would be spared, countless innocent lives would no longer be lost in vain.

And yet, simply because I did not want to die… I struggled.

This was the result.

I fled from my friend, abandoned a loyal retainer, and only deepened my burden of guilt.

I did not want to die… Even after all this life I’ve lived, is it still not enough?

How disgraceful of you, Kibutsuji Muzan.

“How long must you live before you will be satisfied…?”

The words I muttered to myself dissolved into the brightening morning sky.

. . . . . . .

Once my body had fully healed, the first thing I resolved to do was to reestablish my connections with the scattered demons.

I sensed that I might restore the bond simply by drawing close to them, but since the opportunity presented itself, I decided to meet each one face-to-face again.

With Nakime’s blood demon art, I expected little trouble in doing so.

But then, Michikatsu appeared before me, fully transformed into a demon.

…He’s holding the severed head of a young man.

“…Michikatsu. What is that head…?”

“My lord… This is the head of the current head of the Ubuyashiki family, founder of the Demon Slayer Corps…”

“I too was once of the Corps. Having betrayed them, having become a demon, I deemed it necessary to offer proof of my loyalty…“

“All who dare raise their blades against you, I shall eliminate without fail…”

So he spoke, bowing reverently as he presented the head.

“…No, I do not need such a thing…”

I pitied the sight of that lifeless head, eyes wide in disbelief even in death…

But being handed such an offering—truly, it left me at a loss.

Is this what passes for a gift of betrayal, in the way of the samurai?

What a savage world.

“I see…”

Michikatsu murmured, disappointed, before setting the head aside and lifting his face again.

Upon it, unlike Nakime’s visage, there were six eyes.

It is not uncommon for one who becomes a demon to transform into something grotesque, but his appearance was nonetheless striking.

“Your loyalty reaches me. Do not fear—I will not abandon you now.“

“Train yourself well. You have time.”

“As you command… Your words… I shall carve them into my heart…”

…What an overly dramatic man.

“Well then, Michikatsu, I shall now—”

“Please… do not call me Michikatsu…”

So… he wants a new name now that he has become a demon?

What a troublesome man. A desire for a fresh start, perhaps? I suppose I can understand that much…

I glanced at Michikatsu’s robes, heavy in black. And beside him—there still lay that severed head, that corpse…

Hmm… if only an impression will suffice, then very well.

I will name him by instinct.

“Your name is Kokushibo. From this moment, bear that name.”

“Kokushibo… I humbly accept this name with gratitude…”

Michikatsu—no, Kokushibo—bowed deeply as he said this.

…Well, he seems pleased enough, so that will do.

Now then, this time for certain…

As Kokushibo stood there overcome with emotion, I turned my back to him, intending to visit the nearest demon first.

That was when—

“Please wait… where do you intend to go…?”

He called out, stopping me.

“Where…? Merely to see a nearby demon.“

“When I escaped the other night, my bonds with the demons became unstable. I thought I would take the chance to visit them directly…”

“If that is the case, then they should be the ones to come before you.“

“You, my lord, should remain seated in your castle… Leave such trifles to us, your servants…”

“A castle…? It is but a common house…”

Although… remaining forever in an ordinary home would indeed be questionable.

No—wait. If Nakime’s blood demon art is applied, it should be possible, albeit with some strain, to construct a fortress impossible to find.

…That can be decided later, in consultation with Nakime.

Still, Kokushibo—his eyes gleamed strangely, glittering, as though he were… excited?

“In any case… there is no need for you to move about yourself.“

“Even should you go outside, it is imprudent to do so unguarded. A retinue should be prepared.“

“Especially since, but recently, you yourself were ambushed… to allow you out alone is unthinkable. Thus, I shall personally—”

Kokushibo prattled on endlessly, until at last, hand pressed to his chest, he stood tall with fervor.

And at that very instant—

Ben!

Thud!

“Gah!”

A fist shot out from the sliding door that had materialized above Kokushibo’s head, smashing straight into his skull.

“Enough already. Can’t you see Muzan-sama is exasperated?“

“Your concern for his safety is understandable, but in excess it becomes nothing but a nuisance.”

“Nakime…”

Inwardly, I wanted to commend her—well said!—yet I could also sense Kokushibo’s earnest concern for me, which made the matter somewhat awkward.

“Ghh… you wretched little girl…”

“Little girl? Ahahaha~ for me to be seen as so young, are those six eyes of yours merely decoration?“

“I was the very first to be made a demon by Muzan-sama himself… I have lived for centuries, little boy.”

“L–little… boy…? You… insolent woman, how dare you—!”

“Hmph~ I simply don’t like how you, a newcomer, act as though you were Muzan-sama’s most loyal retainer.”

…Could it be these two are incompatible?

Their gazes clashed, sparks flying between them, and it looked as if a fight could break out at any moment.

No—if it came to battle, Kokushibo would surely win…?

Yet Nakime’s blood demon art is formidable as well… I could not easily predict the outcome…

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kokushibo draw his blade, while Nakime readied her biwa once more.

I hastily intervened before it could go further.

“Ah, enough!“

“You are both demons. I won’t tell you to get along, but at least refrain from fighting!”

Come on, this is ridiculous. Don’t fight over something so petty!

“…But Muzan-sama…”

“Eh—but Muzan-sama!”

“No buts!“

“For now, I am merely going nearby, and I shall go alone! Nakime, open the way!”

“Yes, my lord.”

Ben!

Though both seemed dissatisfied, the moment I began walking they fell silent and bowed their heads.

—Hmph. At least they have that much restraint.

It cannot be helped…

“…Well, Kokushibo’s words are not without merit. When I return, I will reconsider how I manage the demons.”

I said this over my shoulder just before passing through the sliding door.

With Nakime’s blood demon art, after all, it is easy enough to summon demons before me.

My personal visits were simply a matter of my own mood.

Upon hearing those words, Kokushibo’s shoulders trembled faintly, and he bowed even more deeply.

I really hope they don’t fight, considering that they are in our stronghold.

With a twinge of unease, I set off to meet the demons.

. . . .

When I returned, their relationship had not improved in the slightest.

They had indeed fought, and the base had become uninhabitable.

I began to earnestly consider the need for a space where we could rampage freely, where we demons could exist without fear of human eyes—a true castle.

. . . .

“…Muzan, what are you playing at?”

“…Once, there was a woman who nearly perished in a fire.

Her body was scorched by dreadful burns, and she hovered between life and death.

When I turned her into a demon, the blood demon art she acquired…

It was a thermal barrier, able to shield a chosen area from all heat. The range was not great, but…”

“Are you even listening, Muzan?”

“That woman has long since died, but her blood demon art remains within me.

I merely used it to shield you and your family from the explosion’s flames.”

“…Then I will ask again. Why go so far as to keep me alive?

For me, dying there had meaning…”

“Which is why I am hiding you now, is it not? Do not worry…

Until all is finished, your safety—and that of your family—will be assured.”

Before me, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, who should have been consumed in the explosion just moments ago, frowned deeply.

Not with his usual mask of politeness, nor with his bold, defiant smile—but with true, unfeigned displeasure.

“…Even if I were to survive, my life is already—”

“Nearing its end, isn’t it?”

Kagaya’s eyes widened in surprise, and though he could not see me, I allowed myself a faint smile.

“No matter the outcome, the Demon Slayer Corps will come to its end today.

As its leader… it is your duty to witness that end.”

“…That role, I had entrusted to my son…”

Kagaya said this with a faint, awkward smile.

So, he had thought it through in his own way.

Still, I suspect that what shaped the Corps into what it is now… was Kagaya’s character itself.

He seemed to regret sending warriors—warriors who could be called his own children—onto the battlefield, where they met their deaths.

And yet… I felt certain that those warriors did not resent him.

That certainty, that atmosphere, emanated from Kagaya himself.

“In any case, you and your family should remain still… and watch until the end.

That is the one thing left you can do.”

Kagaya’s wife, and their children who supported him…

Their eyes brimmed with tears.

Not because they had been saved from death, but rather… because Kagaya still lived.

His flame of life was nearly spent… and perhaps it was precisely because of that, that the time left together felt so precious.

Kagaya’s reckless stratagem—to lure me in, use himself as bait, and die together with his wife and children in a fiery blast…

At first, I had questioned his sanity.

I had even wondered whether his family had truly consented to such a plan…

But now, seeing them nestled close, exchanging smiles in such harmony, I knew the question was meaningless.

“…Nakime. I leave Kagaya and his family in your care.”

I had no desire to disrupt them further.

With those words, I turned to leave.

“Are you going, Muzan?”

Kagaya’s voice rang out.

“…It is strange for me to say this, I know, but…”

After a brief hesitation, his voice, weak yet steady, continued.

“…I wish you good luck.”

“Hah… what is that? You’re a strange man.”

“You are hardly one to talk…”

“…That is true.”

We are enemies. We cannot coexist unless one destroys the other.

And yet… it was as if neither of us truly wished for the other’s death.

…Nonsense. No matter the outcome, Kagaya will soon die.

Even if I save him, even if I protect him, it is meaningless.

And I… I am not the kind of being who deserves to have good fortune wished upon him.

“Farewell then, Kagaya Ubuyashiki…”

“Yes… goodbye, Kibutsuji Muzan.

…If only we could have met in a world without chains… in a peaceful age…”

His voice, drifting to my ears as I turned my back, was unbearably sorrowful.

I departed from that place.

And as I did, I caught sight—just at the edge of my vision—of hair turned white.