Urokodaki nodded, said nothing, asked nothing.
He only remarked, "Let's eat something good today."
He went to the cellar and brought out a smoked wild boar leg.
After curing, wild boar meat was easy to preserve. Sliced thin, it could be used for hotpot or sukiyaki—both fine choices.
Sadly, life in the mountains was harsh, and the cabin lacked a proper pan. Otherwise, stir-fried smoked meat with some wild greens would've been perfect.
Gurgle...
The hotpot bubbled on the hearth as master and disciple sat face-to-face, quietly eating—surrounded by a circle of drooling ghosts.
Slurp~ Makomo squatted beside Urokodaki, watching him savor his food bite by bite, unable to stop her own drool.
"It smells amazing, Sabito. Do something—I want to eat too."
'You say that every time.' Sabito spread his hands helplessly. Without physical form, there was nothing they could do.
"Master's playing favorites," Shinsuke grumbled from the rafters, legs dangling. He shot Roy a sour look. "That brat Eichi just says he's taking a day off and Master actually agrees. Not only that, he cooks him a feast. What's next, afraid he'll sneak home and never return?"
Where's this 'overbearing father' he's talking about?
Tanjiro, that honest kid, practically spilled his whole family history here.
Because Tanjuro was weak and sickly, the Kamado siblings had to sell charcoal to survive. And now Eichi claims he's going to fight his father?
What, afraid his dad won't die fast enough?
"You're just jealous," Fukuda said bluntly, looking at Shinsuke with disdain. "So what if he wants to visit home? He's still a kid. Missing home is normal."
"I never said he couldn't go. I just think his excuse is ridiculous."
"He could've just told the truth—no one would judge him. Who hasn't missed home?"
"I don't have a home," Sabito said suddenly. "This is my home."
"Same here," Makomo added. "I was adopted."
"Me too…"
"Me as well…"
Roy took another bite of rice, silently listening… catching them in his peripheral vision.
Urokodaki was focused solely on eating, as if nothing else existed but the food in front of him.
But after the meal, he brewed a pot of tea, poured Roy a cup, and asked, "Are you confident?"
Steam curled from the teacup...
Roy's expression grew solemn. He rubbed the cup in his hands, said nothing at first, offering no definite answer.
After all, there was no such thing as certainty in a test—especially not when it was his father administering it.
"Sounds like your father is quite the challenge."
Seeing Roy fall silent, Urokodaki nodded in understanding. "Makes sense. There are no true prodigies in the world… only great fathers who raise great sons."
"Doesn't that make you curious?" Roy didn't comment on that line. Instead, he sipped his tea and looked at Urokodaki with a hint of amusement. "Didn't you hear about my family from Tanjiro? Aren't you worried I might accidentally kill my sickly old man?"
"Would you?"
"No."
"Then what's the worry?" Urokodaki stood, walked to the window, and looked out at the endless snowy expanse. He spoke softly, "People lie. But swords don't. Your practice blade already told me—everything you've said is true."
"Your battle. Your so-called invincible father."
The old Water Pillar turned back and looked at Roy with expectation. "Stand tall, Eichi!"
"Even if it's your father—face him as an enemy and defeat him with honor!"
"I will!" Roy raised his cup and drained it in one gulp.
The next morning, filled with determination, he sat up in bed.
Ding~ Four a.m. The clock chimed.
The boy gently touched Yukizashi beside his pillow, threw on a vest and shorts, and began his morning run.
4:20—run complete.
4:25—stretching.
4:30—shower.
Then, he sat down to breakfast, calm and unhurried.
"Knowing it's your test today, the kitchen prepared strawberry cake in advance to wish you success."
Sandwich, milk, salad, and cake. "Wutong, thoughtful as always."
"You're too kind, young master. It's our duty." Wutong placed his right hand over his chest and bowed.
Roy nodded, accepting the gesture in full. He cleaned his plate without wasting a single bite, wiped his mouth, grabbed Yukizashi, and strode out.
It was a bright, sunny day. Morning light chased the boy, casting his shadow long and tall. As he passed a dim little room, Roy paused and bowed.
The old man lay in his rocking chair, watching cartoons, seemingly asleep. After Roy left, he turned over and grumbled, "What're you standing there for? Get over here and rub my back."
The shadows shifted, revealing Zeno's figure. Sixty or seventy years old and still summoned like a grandchild...
Zeno showed no displeasure. He walked to Maha's back and began massaging him. "I heard from the kitchen you're refusing breakfast, so I came to check on you."
"Won't kill me," the old man snorted. "You raised a good son. Instead of sleeping at night, he's out wrecking the house."
"His wife howls louder than pigs in heat. Might as well breed her with one!"
Crude and brash—the typical Enhancer. Zeno suddenly recalled his grandfather's criticism of Netero stealing his father. Now it seemed the same words applied to the old man himself...
He braced himself and said mildly, "You know they've been trying for a while with no results. Silva and Kikyo are both anxious."
"And that's why he ran off? I'm not deaf or blind. He's just weak," Maha said slowly, tapping his fingers behind his back. "Why not just hand the family to Roy? That kid's diligent, grounded—better than you two."
Roy cooked a few dishes and you're this smitten?
"You flatter him. Let's wait until he passes Silva's test first." Zeno glanced out the window. Across a single corridor, the boy walked steadily toward the training room—Yukizashi in hand, earrings of sun and mountain glinting.
Ten meters from the training room, he stopped.
Hummmm... Killing intent materialized, distorting the air.
The boy tightened his grip on the sword and lifted his gaze, "measuring" the space within the door...
Inside, the man sat boldly on a stone seat, idly spinning a whip in one hand, chin propped on the other, watching with calm amusement. The sheer force of his Ren surged through the room, nearly flinging Illumi off the wall.
The idiotic oniichan threw out a hand blade, jammed it into the wall, dug in his fingers, and steadied himself. Then he looked—
The door swung open.
Revealing Roy's calm face.