Chapter 32: Roy's Speed X Urokodaki's Invitation
The playful shouts of the ghosts echoed in the clearing, a private concert for an audience of one.
The water in the flask began to boil. Tanjiro quickly poured a cup of hot tea and handed it to his brother. "Bro," he whispered, "I don't know why, but I feel like we're being watched."
Tanjuro, their father, was the first Kamado in a thousand years to reach the Transparent World. Perhaps it was his bloodline, or a blessing from their ancestors, but that legacy had manifested in Tanjiro as a preternaturally sharp sense of smell. It was this same sense that would one day allow him to "smell" the intent behind Sabito's sword strikes, a sign that he himself was on the verge of touching that same profound state of perception. So for him to feel something here, even if he couldn't explain it, was not surprising.
"What do you smell?"
"I don't know... It's kind of like the scent Mr. Minamino had."
As he spoke, a dozen ghostly figures swirled around him, drawn by his words.
"This kid's senses are sharp."
"Just like Master. He could always track a demon's location, and even tell how many people it had eaten, just by the smell."
"Maybe... he has more potential than Giyu..."
The spirits chattered excitedly, circling above Tanjiro's head, but none dared to pass through him. They knew the danger of a soul shocking a living being.
A sudden chill ran down Tanjiro's spine. Why did it get so cold all of a sudden? He shivered and huddled closer to Roy for warmth.
Roy, however, was focused. He finished his rice ball and washed it down with the tea. His gaze swept past the curious ghosts, past the surprised faces of Sabito and Makomo, and settled on the old man carving by the cabin.
Urokodaki was a study in stillness. He seemed to merge with the landscape, to be both present and not. If you weren't looking for him, you would miss him entirely. It was a state remarkably similar to Zetsu. The difference was that one relied on sealing one's Nen, while the other was a state of being born from decades of discipline and mastery.
Tap... tap...
The sound of carving stopped. Urokodaki's knife had slipped. Perhaps the new tool was unfamiliar, or perhaps the presence of strangers had disturbed his concentration. The fox mask he was carving now had a crooked, mocking smile.
"Master..." Makomo whispered, her heart aching for him.
Urokodaki stared at the ruined mask for a moment, then set it aside and picked up a fresh block of wood. He began to carve again, as if he hadn't noticed them at all.
Tanjiro fidgeted. "Bro, should I go and knock?"
Knock on what? Roy thought. There's not even a gate.
He drank the last of his tea. "If you're getting restless, go hunt for something to eat."
"No, I'm staying here with you," Tanjiro said, shaking his head.
"Fine. I'll go." Roy stood up and, in a flicker of Shadow Step, vanished. He moved so fast he left an after-image, a perfect silhouette of himself sitting by the fire.
Every ghost in the clearing whipped their heads around, but they were a fraction of a second too late. All they saw was the faint ripple in the air where he had been.
"That guy is fast!" one of the ghosts exclaimed.
In the next instant, Roy was back, two freshly killed rabbits dangling from his hand.
The ghosts were stunned into silence. They now swarmed around Roy, their curiosity piqued, trying to figure out how a human could move like that. They kept their distance, however, parting for him as he walked. At the end of that spectral path stood Sabito, his hand resting on the hilt of his wooden sword.
"If you'd had that kind of speed," Makomo said to him, her eyes shining as she looked at Roy, "you wouldn't have died."
Sabito was silent. Even with that speed, could he really have run? What would have happened to Giyu, who in those days was still a crybaby who could barely hold his sword? He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "This time," he said to Makomo, his voice filled with a new hope, "I really think this one has a chance."
Roy and Tanjiro roasted the rabbits over the fire. The smell of cooking meat soon filled the clearing. Without any spices save for a little salt Tanjiro had in his pack, the meal was simple, but it was enough to attract a crowd of "hungry ghosts."
"Hey, Sabito," Makomo whined, her eyes glued to the sizzling rabbit in Roy's hands. "Think of something. I want a bite."
What am I supposed to do? Sabito thought, exasperated. You're the one who said we should just 'watch' them eat. He fell silent, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that made him go still.
"Rabbit tastes gamey if you don't season it first," a deep voice rumbled from beside the fire.
Sakonji Urokodaki stood there, his Tengu mask hiding his expression. The ruined fox mask he had been carving lay discarded on the tree stump.
"If you two don't mind," he said, his voice like the grinding of old stones, "come inside. I'll prepare it properly."