In the end…
he was chased out, dusty and disheveled.
He didn't look the least bit upset—only faintly surprised.
It was the first time he'd seen an old man "guard his food" like that.
Affected by it, Zeno did something rare: he headed in the opposite direction from his own room.
Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled the deep, quiet corridor, feet on mottled stone, gliding more than walking, until he reached Roy's window.
With his Silent Gait polished to this level, he'd truly reached the realm of "sounds barely heard."
He appeared without a sound and, through the glass, watched the boy inside.
The boy noticed nothing, absorbed in a book.
"Nen isn't actually anything magical…
The Shingen-ryu's Ten, Zetsu, Ren, Hatsu, and the version commonly passed around—Ten, Zetsu, Ren, Hatsu—are just different ways of describing the 'opening' practice.
By gazing inward and giving 'aura' form in language, then refining it with imagination and finally releasing it—that's the essence of using Nen.
As for derived applications like Shu, Ken, En, and Zetsu, they're merely deeper refinements built on imagination.
For example, Zetsu—erasing your presence—really just means drawing all the aura leaking over your skin back inside; your presence naturally drops to a minimum. The cost, however, is…
Without aura's protection, your body can't withstand a Nen user's aura attacks…"
…
"In short, Nen training isn't about fancy applications—it's about Nen itself, and the user's understanding and recognition of Nen.
Grasping Nen's morphological and qualitative changes is what every Nen user should focus on."
Swish, swish—the night breeze teased the curtains.
At some point Roy finally pulled himself from the pages.
He glanced out the window—Zeno was nowhere to be seen. In his place hung a high, bright moon, as if it were watching him, giving Roy the illusion that by changing his angle, he could see himself more clearly.
Maybe that's the difference between with guidance and without…
"Systematic study might not make you great, but it won't make you bad," he thought. "By contrast, a self-taught Nen user rarely even brushes the edge of top-tier unless they're a prodigy."
Roy closed the book, thoughtful.
After two seconds' reflection, he took paper and pen from the drawer and wrote three words:
Stats … Operation … Mechanics …
"Stats" = aura capacity. "Operation" = how a Nen user applies Nen. "Mechanics" = Vows & Restrictions.
For a mature Nen user, you need all three—and all three must be strong.
Which means, for now, strengthening his body and raising his stats is at least the right direction.
Dong…
Ten o'clock. The corner clock chimed; bedtime.
To deepen Sun Breathing—lengthening the time he could sustain focused breathing—he'd have to rely on sleep.
Roy shut his notebook, stretched lazily, and without insisting further flopped into the soft bed.
Cicadas droned, lulling as ever…
The moon stood high. Somewhere a hollow-eyed brat dug a hole, head poking from the ground; a chubby child dressed up as a daughter by his deranged mother dreamed of gnawing a drumstick; in the master bedroom one floor up, a woman screamed while an electronic eye snowed with static…
Roy set his phone to white noise, folded his hands over his stomach, and tried to empty his mind…
Soon he passed through the multicolored corridor, reached the ocean of his subconscious, and once more saw the rows of wooden doors standing on the sea's surface.
This time he didn't rush to the "Demon Slayer" door. He wandered the doors one by one, studying them.
One had an ocean sigil… another bore a paper dragonfly… another hung an eye charm from the lintel—familiar to the look, and radiating a sharp, intimate pain up close…
It made Roy think of a wretched soul.
Someone, like him, unable to control his fate—toyed with, shackled, in another's palm.
"So—it's still not strong enough. If you were truly strong, you could offload your pain onto the whole world—better the world betray me than I betray the world."
He murmured, turned away from the pain, and pushed open the Demon Slayer door.
That familiar drop—
He opened his eyes to Tanjiro's face, the scar like a flame pattern.
"Nii-san, wake up. We're taking charcoal to town today."
A day digging coal, a day selling charcoal. With strong legs you could make it home before dark; if not, you'd camp in the mountains or find a kind household for the night and set off again at dawn. In the original story, Tanjiro often stayed at old man Koizumi Sansaburō's little cabin at the foot of the mountain.
"Why are you so close?" Roy smacked Tanjiro's face away and climbed out from under the quilt.
Takeo and Shigeru still slept soundly.
Moving quietly, he got out of bed; a smaller version of himself trailed behind, aggrieved. They opened the door to the same endless snow country—and to the strip of wall where Tanjuro had lingered last night.
The footprints beneath it were gone—but Tanjuro's words still rang clear.
As if their hearts were linked…
Roy turned his head toward the main house; under the eaves along the wooden veranda, Tanjuro looked back. Breakfast was already set by the brazier he always leaned against.
"Rōichirō, Tanjiro—come eat."
"Coming!"
Tanjiro trotted off, his earlier grievance forgotten.
Roy followed unhurriedly, removed his shoes, and stepped into the main house. Seeing only Mother Kie and Nezuko, he knew Hanako must have fussed in the night—Grandma would be sleeping with her now. He lowered his voice and spoke softly with his parents.
Breakfast was dumplings with yesterday's leftover pork cutlet in miso soup.
Knowing Roy would be selling charcoal today, Kie had risen early to wrap a big batch for the road.
Roy had no objection. Noticing the patch on Nezuko's sleeve as she lifted it to eat, he sipped his soup and said, "We might be delayed a couple of days this trip.
"First, to get new clothes for Nezuko and the little ones…
"Second, I need to go to Mount Sagiri…"
The former Water Hashira, Urokodaki Sakonji, trains recruits there for the Demon Slayer Corps under the Ubuyashiki family.
Roy decided to pay him a visit—if he could get instruction straight from the source, so much the better.
~~~
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