Chapter 33: A Fireside Chat X Roy's Detachment
Patience... I must have more patience... Urokodaki thought. If only he had kept them with him for a few more years, helped them perfect their Breathing Styles, polished their techniques... perhaps things would have turned out differently.
He led the way in his cloud-patterned haori, Roy and Tanjiro following at a respectful distance. Behind them, unseen, trailed a procession of ghosts, their spectral eyes fixed on the newcomers. The scene was surreal, a silent parade of the living and the dead.
As Tanjiro passed her, Makomo darted forward and tried to lick the roasted rabbit he was carrying. Her tongue passed right through it.
"I have never hated being a ghost more than I do right now," Sabito said, seeming to read her mind. He fell into step beside Roy, studying him. The boy carried himself with a maturity and poise that belied his age. Each step was measured, precise. He's had harsh training, Sabito concluded. And judging by his speed... his physical conditioning is already far beyond what mine was. He might even be approaching Giyu's level.
An expert sees what an amateur misses. And Urokodaki saw far more than Sabito.
"Master's interested," Makomo whispered happily. "He won't be so lonely anymore."
"And neither will we," Sabito added, his hand resting on the hilt of his wooden sword. "But don't get your hopes up. They still have to pass the test." The mountain was riddled with traps. Speed alone would not be enough.
Urokodaki pushed open the door to his small cabin and placed his carving tools on a shelf. Roy and Tanjiro followed him inside, handing him the rabbits.
A master swordsman may not be a great chef, but he will always have a master's knife skills. In Urokodaki's hands, the half-cooked rabbits were expertly butchered in seconds. He seared the meat with a splash of sake, stir-fried it with a dark, savory sauce, and laid it over a bed of wild greens. He then set a clay pot over the hearth to simmer.
Makomo knelt by the fire, her nose twitching, her eyes glued to the pot. Roy and Tanjiro sat opposite her. Sabito and the other ghosts drifted in through the walls, filling the small cabin with a strange, silent warmth.
As the stew bubbled, Urokodaki finally turned his attention to the two brothers. They had a family resemblance, but their presence was worlds apart. Roy, perhaps bolstered by the life energy he'd absorbed from Minamino, sat with the unshakable stillness of a mountain. Tanjiro, next to him, was a bundle of earnest, youthful energy, trying to imitate his brother's stoic posture.
"He's not ready," Urokodaki said, his gaze falling on Tanjiro. "He is too young for the training. Send him home for three years."
"I'm not too young!" Tanjiro protested, flexing a non-existent bicep. "I've already helped my brother kill a demon!"
The word hung in the air. Every soul in the room, living and dead, snapped their attention to him.
"You've fought a demon?" one of the ghosts, Shinsuke, exclaimed, zipping over to circle Tanjiro's head. A cold draft washed over the boy, making him shiver.
Under Urokodaki's intense, unblinking stare, Tanjiro swallowed hard. "Well... the one in the mountains, I wasn't much help with. But the one in the shrine last night... I definitely pulled my weight!" And I almost got myself killed for hesitating, he added silently, the memory of his brother's anger still stinging his cheek.
Urokodaki said nothing, his gaze boring into Tanjiro. Then he turned to Roy. The crowd of ghosts turned with him. Tanjiro had said everything and nothing. What did he mean, he "wasn't much help"? The ghosts were dying to know. If the kid wasn't lying, it meant the silent boy sitting before their master had killed a demon. Alone. Without having learned a Breathing Style.
"Whoa... he might be even more amazing than you, Sabito," Makomo whispered, finally tearing her eyes away from the bubbling pot.
He might be more amazing than Giyu, Sabito corrected in his thoughts, his respect for the boy growing.
Roy placed a calming hand on Tanjiro's back. "Demons eat people," he said, his voice calm and even as he met Urokodaki's gaze. "So people kill demons. My brother is a straightforward person. Please forgive his bluntness."
Urokodaki studied him. This boy was nothing like Sabito or Giyu. He was too calm, too composed, with a maturity that was frankly unsettling in someone so young.
"I hate to admit it," Urokodaki said after a long silence, his voice a low rumble. "But you are a child of incredible talent. Perhaps... you might actually be able to kill it."
Roy glanced at Sabito. He knew what "it" was. The Hand Demon. The monster trapped on Final Selection mountain, the one that had killed every single one of Urokodaki's students, Sabito and Makomo included. The living symbol of the old man's failure and grief.
Urokodaki stirred the stew. "You have patience, talent, and a good head on your shoulders," he said, his back still to them. "Any other trainer would have accepted you without question. But I am different."
He put the lid on the pot and turned, his Tengu mask fixing Roy with an unreadable stare. "Tell me your resolve," he commanded. "What is it that drives you to kill demons?"
Roy smiled. It was a thin, detached smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Honestly," he said, his voice devoid of any heroic passion, "I think that's a stupid question."
He met the old master's gaze without flinching.
"They chose to eat people. Therefore, they have forfeited their right to exist. Killing them is not a matter of resolve. It is a matter of course."
"Oh..." Makomo breathed, her eyes sparkling. She leaned over to Sabito. "This guy... is even cooler than you."
Sabito didn't reply. But behind his fox mask, a fire had been lit.