"Niisan, we're going to Mount Sagiri to learn how to slay demons, right?"
"I heard from Grandpa Takeya that there are demons down the mountain—and people who specialize in killing them. Those people should be on Mount Sagiri."
Takeya Sakata was Father's friend, ran a clothing shop, and years back supposedly moved to the Tokyo Metropolis; contact was lost. Reiichiro only vaguely remembered a big-bellied man with a lush beard who liked double-breasted waistcoats.
"It's me, not you." Reiichiro walked at an easy pace with the bamboo basket on his back. To his left ran a river called the Wangchuan.
Follow the Wangchuan west and you'd reach the town at the foot of the mountain.
"Why won't you take me?" Tanjiro panicked, jogged two steps, and threw out his arms to block Reiichiro. "Niisan, you promised to train me—don't go back on your word!"
'Taking you to train isn't the same as teaching you a Breathing Style.'
Tanjiro's physique was still too frail… Toss him into the Zoldyck estate and even Mike the guard dog wouldn't look at him twice; he'd only be on par with those ordinary folks at the butlers' lodge desperate to join the Zoldyck staff.
So before he had Breathing Styles fully figured out, Reiichiro decided to raise Tanjiro the way the family had raised him—at least lay a solid foundation before letting him touch breathing.
"Okay." The silly little brother had no idea what was coming. Seeing Reiichiro agree, he whooped and capered.
The next instant—he froze.
"Niisan, are you sure?"
Reaching the town before the hour of the Dragon—was that even humanly possible?
A round trip selling charcoal took four double-hours. Reiichiro wanted him to cut travel time in half… Tanjiro couldn't imagine how.
"Run."
Reiichiro gave the answer straight.
If walking wasn't enough, they'd run. Run with a loaded basket.
Nothing trains the heart-lung engine and builds the body better.
Loosening his ankles in full view of Tanjiro, Reiichiro stepped toward the swift river without looking back. "You run the bank. I'll run the water."
"Be there before the Dragon hour."
"Run on water?" Tanjiro's eyes went wide—he must've misheard.
When Reiichiro truly jumped into the river with the basket on his back, Tanjiro yelped—
and lunged to grab his arm.
"Niisan, I won't train, okay? I won't! Just come back up!"
The kid was crying in a panic…
He'd never blamed himself this hard. One thought flashed again and again—
"It's over. It's my fault. If I hadn't forced Niisan to take me training, he wouldn't have lost his mind."
Tanjiro was too kind—so kind that even when a demon bullied his sister, he hesitated to strike to kill, nearly missing the chance to be scouted by Sakonji Urokodaki at Giyu Tomioka's request.
'Crying?'
"Reminder: crying counts toward your time."
"Eh?" As Tanjiro teetered on the brink of despair…
A familiar voice drifted over. He looked—and—
Reiichiro stepped into the river, swayed left and right twice, then stood firm on the surface.
"Water Surface Walking"—a neat trick from Jieg's notes on reshaping Nen.
By imagining his Nen spread like webbed feet under his soles, he mimicked a duck sprinting across water.
Sure enough, Reiichiro did it…
Crimson hair streaming, he left the gaping Tanjiro behind and sprang forward—tracing a fine line across the water.
"Niisan—wait for me!" The iron-headed kid finally snapped out of it, half-laughing, half-crying, tears drying in the wind as he pounded after Reiichiro…
[Reminder: "Nen Form Transformation" tab activated.....]
["Form" +0.05...+0.05...+0.05....]
Where there's no wind, make waves. Reiichiro couldn't say whether he was treading on waves or making them—but the panel prompts alone were worth a grin.
'According to the book, besides "Water Surface Walking" there's "Cliff Walking," "Hookless Angling"…'
'All of them focus on reshaping Nen's form to overcome the limits of natural law…'
"In other words—man can conquer heaven!"
Thoughts settling, Reiichiro shifted his steps and tried Dark Step…
As if on level ground, he skated the surface, leaving afterimages and startling a row of egrets.
"Kyuu—!"
They burst into the air, scattering a few white plumes.
Gasping behind, Tanjiro watched, unable to hide his envy.
'I want to look as cool as Niisan…'
Heart blazing, he bellowed and picked up the pace.
Soon the brothers could see the town through the trees—rows of interlocking wooden houses. Closer, hawkers' cries and the snorts of mules reached them.
Moments later, they were there…
Reiichiro skimmed ashore with an unhurried final step.
Behind him Tanjiro collapsed like a dead dog, chest heaving like a broken bellows. He managed to look up—two rice balls arced into his hands.
"Eat and rest a bit." However things were, this was his real little brother—even in a world of cognition. He wouldn't work him like a mule.
After a short break, Reiichiro led Tanjiro into town. Thanks to Tanjuro's good name, the Kamados were well-regarded; without hawking, both baskets of charcoal sold out quickly.
At the market they bought two outfits for Nezuko, a few sweets for Takeo and Shigeru, and a clacker toy for Hanako. Time ticked on into afternoon.
And Tanjiro, passing a smithy, stopped dead.
"Niisan, how about we spend a little more and buy you a sword?"
The image of Reiichiro cutting down Takeichiro Sato was still fresh. Tanjiro felt that if Niisan had held a blade instead of a hoe, it would have gone even smoother.
Unfortunately—
"Don't bother. You can't kill demons with an ordinary blade."
Reiichiro had already gotten directions to Mount Sagiri from a regular customer. He glanced back at Tanjiro.
"Oh…" Tanjiro hitched his basket higher and followed, brightening as he said, "The mushroom lady said once we cross the southern ridge, that's Mount Sagiri."
"There's a roadside shrine on the mountain. We can sleep there."
Yes—sleep at the shrine where demons go fishing for men. It would be… lively.
Reiichiro narrowed his eyes. He could already catch a thick tang of blood on the wind…