Yubashiri—so named for its snow-white blade.
Years ago, Zeno took it as spoils from a swordsman.
Roy took the sword, tested the heft—it felt a bit light—then slashed forward on a diagonal, tracing a clean arc.
The effect was instant: his panel popped up—"Physique +0.05."
So he'd simply been pointed the wrong way before, overlooking the essence of Sun Breathing—
It's a breathing style tailored specifically for swordsmen. Proof: a new skill slot unlocked on his panel.
[Unlocked: "Swordsmanship"]
[Current Swordsmanship: Lv.1 (1/100)]
"Hnmm… an expected surprise, or an unexpected one?"
He slid the blade back into its sheath.
At the same moment—skritch—the dining table split in two along his line as the axis.
Gotoh moved fast, catching it so the food didn't crash to the floor.
"Young master, that blade is extremely sharp. Best not swing it in the bedroom," Gotoh warned.
Roy nodded. It really was a fine sword—just a bit light—and he didn't know whether he could bring it into the Demon Slayer world via "reverse conjuration."
Maybe… try it tonight.
He did as he decided. At ten o'clock, as the clock chimed, Roy showered, changed into pajamas, and lay down hugging Yubashiri.
After a day of "electroshock," "poison training," and Sun Breathing drills, he was exhausted—sleep came easily.
Soon the familiar corridor appeared again.
This time, before stepping through, he checked his right hand.
Empty—no trace of Yubashiri. He gave a wry smile. Wishful thinking.
According to the series' rules, Conjurers tend to be daydreamers—often a bit neurotic. Think Shizuku, Kortopi, or Kite—gender-bent after Neferpitou killed him—and his roulette Hatsu, "Crazy Slots."
Since he wasn't carrying Yubashiri, he traveled light, stepped into the passage, and drifted toward the ocean of his subconscious. As for a sword:
There's the Swordsmith Village in Demon Slayer—he could commission one. Failing that, he could make do with the black Nichirin blade Yoriichi left in the Type Zero puppet.
Plan set, he soon reached the wooden door with the skull charm and pushed it open without hesitation.
That familiar drop seized him…
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the little cabin, just as expected.
Beside him, Takeo and Shigeru were fast asleep.
Kids never sleep still—here at night, there by morning; one's foot ends up in the other's mouth, a hand shoved into a sibling's arms; blankets scattered on the floor and none the wiser.
Roy tucked the covers back over them, and the rustle woke Tanjiro.
"Bro…" Tanjiro stared at him with wide, bright eyes. "Will you take me into the mountains today?"
Can I even say no? Light sleeper as he was, Roy figured the boy hadn't really slept at all.
Hard to blame him—seeing something so far beyond his frame of reference would rattle anyone, even Roy.
He shot him a look. "Then why are you still in bed—waiting for me to put your shoes on?"
"Sorry, sorry…" Tanjiro tumbled out, clucking around Roy like a hen that just laid an egg.
Roy ignored him, pushed open the door, and stepped into the white world of snow—just as Kie lifted the kitchen curtain and came out.
Head wrapped and scarf tied, Kie stuffed a bundle of steaming dumplings into his arms. "Eat on the road—don't wait till they're cold."
Also—
"Tanjiro, why are you carrying the basket?!"
"I'm going with Bro into the mountains."
"You are not."
"I am."
"Dear, aren't you going to step in?"
"If he wants to go, let him follow Rōichirō," Tanjuro said, at some point appearing in the corridor.
"You—"
Kie looked from Tanjuro to the mule-stubborn Tanjiro, then turned to Roy with a sigh, tightened the scarf at his neck, and said, "Take care of your brother. Be home before dark."
Grandma came out then, Hanako in her arms… Tanjiro opened his mouth to say, "I can protect myself—and protect Nii-san."
But then he pictured Roy ghosting through the forest—and the tree he'd pierced like paper.
He wisely shut his mouth and just snuck glances at Roy.
Roy ignored the looks, let his gaze pass over Kie, Tanjuro, Grandma, and Hanako, and smiled gently. "Wait for me to come back."
He took up the hoe, slung on the basket, and headed for the trees.
"Bro, wait for me!" Tanjiro, all thumbs, ran after him.
Kie, Tanjuro, and Grandma watched them go…
The little house shrank behind them, while the warmth lingered in his chest—a feeling he'd never known in the Zoldyck estate.
He basked in it, cherished it—even craved it—and for the first time thought: maybe staying in this world wouldn't be so bad.
Huffing, Tanjiro quick-stepped and caught up.
The moment he opened his mouth, Roy knew what he'd ask, so he spoke first: "Tanjiro, do you believe there are worlds beyond the one beneath our feet?"
"Really, Bro?" Tanjiro was stunned.
Roy led him through the snow, the two of them leaving twin tracks, and said evenly, "I once had a dream where I went to another world.
"In that world I had a new family—new parents, new brothers…
"We made our living by killing…
"I was raised to be an assassin from childhood…
"One day I woke and found I'd somehow mastered many skills for killing—without any teacher.
"That's when I realized the 'dream' was real."
Tanjiro's mouth fell open. A gust shook snow from a birch branch and dumped it on his head. It took him a while to process it, and then he blurted, amazed, "That's incredible—like when old man Saburo says there are demons in this world."
"No—there are," Roy said, stopping short.
Tanjiro couldn't brake in time and bumped into his lower back. He winced, rubbed his head—then his nostrils flared, and his face changed.
"Blood… Bro—there's a strong smell of blood ahead!"
"I see it."
Roy set down the basket, planted the hoe, and stood in front of Tanjiro, his long narrow eyes narrowing further.
~~~
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