No one could give Tanjiro the answer. Not even Tanjuro himself.
He only knew that the Kagura of the Fire God came from the ancestors, and that if he wished, he could keep dancing all night.
He did not grasp the principle within, but Roy saw it clearly through Gyo—
It was Sun Breathing that granted Tanjuro strength,
helping him resist the cold and sustain his stamina.
Sadly, Tanjuro did not know how to use that power, or rather... with his frail body he could not bear its might.
Even if Roy told him the method, the burning of the sun's power would kill him on the spot.
Once... twice... three times... five times... six times...
Sleeves stirred the snowfall. Tanjiro could no longer keep up and plopped down on the ground.
On a snowy night, only Tanjuro and Roy were still dancing.
From clumsy and raw, to barely adequate, to fluid without stiffness, Roy moved more and more smoothly, until he could follow Tanjuro's rhythm.
Noticing, Tanjuro first felt surprise, then deliberately sped up to test him. A smile unwound at the corners of his mouth.
From time to time a thought rose in his mind: ''If Eiichiro's grandfather could see this, he would surely be astonished at his talent for the Kagura of the Fire God...''
But the forebear was gone; Eiichiro's grandfather was fated never to see it. And Tanjuro already sensed that before long he too would go down below.
"Whoo..."
A gust of wind brushed by, tugging at Tanjuro's thoughts.
Snowflakes slipped past the mask's edge and fell on his face.
Comforted yet melancholy, he woke from his reverie with his heart full of guilt and regret.
His mother was aged and could not labor.
He had contracted consumption early and could not do heavy work.
In recent years a few more children had arrived, and they could not do without Kie.
From here on, the burden of the family, old and young, would fall on Roy.
As a father, all that seemed left was to pray.
''Then pray in earnest...''
''Pray...''
''Fire God above, grant Eiichiro and the children health and safety, and smooth days...''
With a sweep of his long sleeves, Tanjuro danced in earnest. Only at the eighth round did he stop.
He lifted a corner of the flaming mask, revealing his pale, sickly face.
Roy, half a beat behind and still unwilling to stop, came to rest and reached out to help Tanjuro back.
Tanjuro patted his hand and sat against the veranda pillar.
The children swarmed in, chattering noisily.
Some praised how beautifully Tanjuro danced. Some praised how amazing Roy was. Some teased Tanjiro for being as clumsy as a frog.
Tanjiro didn't get angry. He grabbed the teasing Takeo, aiming to tug the single silly hair on his head, but Takeo slipped aside and ducked behind Roy.
"Big brother Eiichiro, it's just that Tanjiro is too dumb!" Takeo crowed.
"Call him Brother Tanjiro."
Roy tapped a light hand-chop on Takeo's little head, shot him a mock glare, then sat and replayed the movements in his mind.
You know your own limits. What children saw was only appearance, not the truth.
Roy knew he was not smarter than Tanjiro.
On the contrary, he held a first-mover edge. One, he could use Gyo to dissect Tanjuro's motions more clearly than Tanjiro could.
Two, thanks to the Zoldyck clan's devil training, his body was far stronger than Tanjiro's, so imitation came quicker.
And Tanjiro was destined to learn Sun Breathing.
Roy still had to face the most crucial trial—to endure "the weight of the sun"!
If he could bear it, he would truly master Sun Breathing. If not, it would all be empty joy.
The boy stilled his heart, neither pleased nor sad. After he finished savoring the forms, he slipped into the kitchen. Soon he returned with two plates of dumplings—white rice shaped and dressed with a little sauce, the main course for tonight's full-moon celebration.
And Kie brought out miso soup.
There was a single rib in the soup. The simplicity left Roy a little dazed.
Since birth in the Zoldyck family, he had never eaten so plainly. At home it was fish and meat as a matter of course, and due to training there were tonics as well.
Seeing Tanjuro's condition now, and then Kie, Grandmother, and the children's complexions, Roy finally understood—
In an age ravaged by demons, being alive itself was a luxury.
In two years, aside from Tanjiro and Nezuko, these vivid faces before him would fade away.
This... was not something Roy wished to see.
''To receive grace is to secure what comes after. Since I have learned Sun Breathing, I must repay it.''
''At the very least, make sure they can eat meat.''
The plan settled in his heart. As Kie smiled and called them to eat, he pressed his palms together, picked up bowl and chopsticks,
and ate by night's light, mouthful after mouthful. Soon, the battle was over.
He then helped Kie tidy the remains, coaxed the little ones to sleep, took off shoes and socks, found his bedding, and lay down, letting the day's fatigue slip away.
By now the night was deep, yet the snow made it as white as day.
Roy, Tanjiro, Takeo, and Shigeru shared one wide sleeping mat.
With eyes closed, he could still hear Takeo grinding his teeth and Shigeru's soft little poots.
The sounds and smells were so real that Roy began to wonder if, once he slept and woke, he would truly leave this place and return to the real world.
Beside him, Tanjiro tossed like a salted fish, unable to sleep. At last he had to widen his amber eyes, scoot over, and whisper, "Brother, are you asleep?"
"Brother" was Tanjiro's special form of address for him. The little ones, Nezuko included, all called him "Big Brother Eiichiro."
"With my eyes closed, I am," Roy lied.
Tanjiro: "..."
He let out an "Oh~," yanked the quilt over his face, and lay flat.
Roy knew what he wanted to ask.
Tanjiro knew Roy did not want to answer now.
What he didn't know was that Roy simply hadn't found a fitting explanation yet.
Who asked that this big brother Eiichiro had only just pushed open the Gate of Cognition and come to this world?
''So, my foolish little otouto, please give me a little more time...''
''Just a little will do...''
Thinking so, Roy gradually grew quiet
and fell asleep.
Until—
"Woof!"
A familiar bark jolted him awake.
Its owner was the demon-beast kept by the Zoldycks, tasked mainly with eating human intruders—and with crowing—the watchdog Mike.
At three fifty in the morning, Roy woke.
He sat up.
Seeing the pendulum clock in the corner, the familiar desk, the wardrobe, he knew he had left the world of Demon Slayer and returned to the Zoldyck estate.
A moment ago he had been curled in a simple cabin, resisting the cold. In the next, he was back in a solemn castle, enduring the heat. Was this the butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou, or Zhuang Zhou dreaming of the butterfly?
Roy stared blankly for a while and sank into long thought.