Laughter and the sounds of a chase echoed about…
pity only Roy could enjoy them.
"Gurgle…"
The water boiled and popped the lid.
Tanjiro, quick on the draw, lifted the gourd and poured a cup of hot tea to hand over…
He leaned in to whisper: "Nii-san, why do I feel a chill here, like someone's watching us?"
His father, Tanjuro Kamado, was the first since ancestor Kamado Sumiyoshi a thousand years past to step into the "Transparent World." Maybe Tanjiro inherited that bloodline, maybe ancestral blessing… granting him an unusually keen sense of smell.
Years from now, after training in Water Breathing, he would sniff out Sabito's blade trajectories, pre-read his attacks, and split his mask—clear signs that one hand had brushed the edge of the Transparent World.
So noticing something off by intuition alone now wasn't surprising.
"What do you smell?"
"I don't know… kind of like Mr. Minamino's scent…"
Tanjiro's nostrils flared; he couldn't quite put it into words.
Out of his sight, "whoosh—" several gusts of chill wind wrapped him in a ring.
Among them were the squabbling Shinsuke and Fukuda…
"Hoh—"
"This guy's got a nose on him…"
"Just like Master—he can pin down a demon's position from scent alone, even how many people it's eaten…"
"If that's the case, maybe he's even more suited than Giyu to learn 'Breathing'…"
Chitter-chatter—the living souls were intrigued by Tanjiro's words…
They wheeled over his head, but none rashly tried to pass through his body—
clearly, they understood that living souls can be shocked by such contact.
"Hiss…" Tanjiro drew a breath. Why did it get colder all of a sudden?
He hugged his arms and scooted closer to Roy…
Roy focused on his dango, washed the last bite down with tea, then lifted his eyes to find the boy and girl beside Urokodaki Sakonji looking at him in mild surprise…
His gaze passed calmly through their bodies and fixed on Urokodaki himself.
The old Water Hashira carved mask after mask, a man melted into the world—there and not there. If you didn't look carefully, or come with purpose, you'd easily overlook him.
This state resembled Zetsu—perceiving and blending into nature, borrowing nature to dim one's presence.
The difference: one seals all "Nen" within to sharpen the senses; the other rests on extraordinary craft honed day after day for decades. How much is "the same," how much "different"—worth savoring. Premise being—
he's willing to grant an audience.
"Ka… ka…"
Chips flew. At some point Urokodaki swapped chisels. Maybe the new one felt odd in hand; maybe an audience had rattled his heart. This stroke—
skewed.
The fox's mouth went crooked, as if mocking him—
What good is carving, if you can't even keep your disciples alive.
"Master…" Makomo crouched nearby, looking on in silence. Beside her stood silent Sabito…
Urokodaki froze for seconds, then set aside the spoiled mask for a fresh blank and kept carving, seemingly unaware of visitors outside the yard.
Tanjiro, anxious, rubbed his hands.
The boy couldn't hold it in: "Nii-san, should I go knock?"
A door?
Where's a door here?
A Hashira needs no door to bar demons. They themselves are the "door."
Roy took a sip of hot tea and said unhurriedly, "If you can't sit still, go fetch some game from the mountain."
Too much dango, not enough fat—meat would make a nice change.
"No, I'll stay here with you." Tanjiro shook his head.
Something felt off; no way he'd leave Nii-san's side.
"Then I'll go." Roy rose, ignored Tanjiro calling him, and in two-and-a-half steps stamped into "Dark Step"—vanishing.
He was simply too fast,
so fast a lingering afterimage fooled the eye into thinking he'd never moved.
"Huh?"
A chill breeze stirred…
Several gazes swung over in unison like rehearsed—but still half a beat late, catching only Roy's "exhaust."
Fukuda yelped—
"That guy's fast!"
"Shinsuke, did I see that right?"
Shinsuke glared. "You're dead, not blind. Need my eyeballs to check for you?"
In that same blink, Roy returned, ambling back with two wild rabbits in hand.
"Hss—"
Disorder…
Flames jumped erratically on the fire…
The souls circling Tanjiro surged toward Roy, peering like they'd confirm whether he'd grown a third leg.
They didn't dare too close; as Roy walked, they lined themselves to either side, and at the far end—
Sabito, hand on his tachi.
"If you'd had that speed back then, you wouldn't have died, right?" Makomo stood, eyes sparkling with Roy's reflection, disbelief in her voice.
Sabito was quiet…
Yes—had he possessed such speed then, even if he couldn't win, he could have slipped away. But…
Would he have run? If he fled, what of Giyu? Back then the kid was a crybaby, timid—facing that thing, he might not even hold his blade.
Sabito shook his head with a wry smile, then looked seriously at Makomo. "This time, I really think we have a shot."
"Hmmm… let's watch them eat first."
…
Fire melted snow, heat spilling outward…
Roy drew his hatchet, dressed the rabbits with the freshly boiled water…
He and Tanjiro each skewered one and set them over the flames…
"Sizzle… szz…" Fat rendered to oil, dripping to feed the fire… soon both rabbits gleamed, maddeningly savory…
No cumin… no spice rub… in this frozen season, no scallion or ginger to marinate—
the only seasoning was a small jar of salt Tanjiro dug out of the basket…
Even so, it drew a flock of "glutton ghosts"—
Fukuda, Shinsuke, Makomo among them…
The girl stared unblinking at Roy's roast, licking her lips. "Ne~ Sabito, think of something… I wanna eat."
'What could I possibly do?'
'You said it yourself: just "watch" them eat.'
Sabito fell silent and simply shut up. Then, a flicker flashed in his eye…
"If you don't oil and marinate rabbit first, it'll taste gamey. If you two don't mind, come inside. I'll handle it…"
Urokodaki Sakonji had appeared by the fire at some point—
the spoiled fox mask lying quietly where he'd left it on the stump.