"Enough talk."
Splurt—
Roy appeared in a blink; a single hand-blade punched through Dohihara's skull.
He flicked his hand, letting brain matter spatter the floor, then turned a cold gaze on Tanjiro. "Do you know what you're doing?"
"…I do."
"Then why didn't you act?"
"I… I don't know…" Tanjiro mumbled, not daring to meet Roy's eyes.
Roy simply drew the axe and set it across Tanjiro's neck. The edge kissed his carotid; five millimeters more and it would slice flesh, sever the artery, and end him.
"Don't know? Great." Roy laughed from anger.
"In that case—
"rather than watch a demon eat you next time…
"I'd rather kill you now. At least
"I can leave a whole body."
Pity a demon? Who do you think you are?
In the original story, Tanjiro nearly lost Urokodaki's approval because he couldn't bring himself to strike. Now, Roy found himself agreeing with what Dohihara—freshly headless—had said:
A bleeding heart is damn well bound to end up with a blade at its throat.
"I… I just thought he was pitiful…"
"And that peddler in the shrine with his guts ripped out—wasn't he pitiful?
"And all the people this thing has eaten over the years—weren't they pitiful?"
Roy's temper spiked. He flipped his palm, whipped the axe sideways, and smashed it across Tanjiro's face.
Bang— The blow blasted Tanjiro ten meters, where he slammed into a tree and slid down the trunk.
"Remember this: if there's a next time—if the demon doesn't kill you, I will."
He hooked the axe back at his waist, shouldered the basket, and walked into the shrine. A tiny oil lamp threw an amber halo over his retreating back.
Tanjiro sprawled with his legs out, slumped against the tree. The right side of his face had swollen, but he didn't feel it—he only stared blankly at Roy's back.
When he was small, Father Tanjuro always taught him to keep a kind heart out in the world and help those in need. Today… he'd used that kindness in the wrong place.
A demon is a demon, a human is a human. Prey that pities the hunter is already courting death.
Without a brain to govern it, Dohihara's body crumbled to ash. The snow fell harder and faster…
A long moment later, Tanjiro came to and finally felt the fire burning in his cheek.
Thanks to the Zoldyck's harsh training, Roy knew how to strike. It was his first time trying it here, but his hand was practiced: he hurt Tanjiro's skin, not his bones.
So for all the show, Tanjiro was fine—fine enough to scramble up, kneel in the snow facing the shrine, and shout his admission of fault to Roy.
He was still young—there was room to remold him. If it had been an adult, Roy would have killed him without a word rather than be dragged down.
He didn't even look over. With a snort: "Do I have to come out and fetch you?
"Can't you crawl in yourself?"
He set down the basket, found a straw broom by the door, and began sweeping up the corpse and blood.
Granted a "reprieve," Tanjiro exhaled in relief, hurried over, and snatched the broom from Roy's hands, grinning for favor. "Let me, Nii-san. You take a rest.
"Don't worry—I'll get the shrine spotless. Not a whiff of blood left."
Roy trusted his little brother's "dog nose." Since he'd asked, Roy gave him the chance to prove it.
Until—
the boy went behind the idol and saw the pile of bones stacked like a hill.
Only then did he truly understand why Roy hadn't left Dohihara even a sliver of a chance.
Right—every one of these demons, one by one—deserves death.
"Some nerve I had—believing that thing's sob story…"
Tanjiro's face went ashen. If he could, he'd go back a few minutes and slap himself for his soft heart.
But time doesn't turn back, just as these bones will never live again.
Roy had already seen it all with Gyo. He said nothing now. His heart felt like the moon hidden by clouds tonight—covered in a heavy shadow.
The Zoldycks kill. Grandfather Zeno even kills "one a day"—far more than Dohihara's count. But whether it's Zeno, Silva, or the old man Roy's never seen strike, they give their targets a clean end—no pain.
These bones were different…
Roy could hardly imagine the pain and despair of being eaten alive.
Wearing the earrings of sun and mountains, he stood in silence for a while, then moved again—took a hoe from the basket and headed out of the shrine.
Tanjuro had noticed the hoe was dull and told him to find a smith down the mountain; now it would serve another purpose.
Hearing footsteps, Tanjiro looked over and saw the hoe on Roy's shoulder. He understood, lifted the oil lamp, and followed without a word.
They circled the shrine and found a clearing where it met the mountains. In the wind and snow they dug a pit. Soon they returned to the shrine…
carried the bones out, and laid them to rest.
By then the flakes were as big as goose feathers.
By the dim lamplight, Tanjiro murmured, "Fire God, please bless these poor souls—may they pass in peace and be reborn soon…"
When Roy patted down the last shovelful of earth, Tanjiro ventured carefully, "Nii-san… shall we go inside?"
Leaning on the hoe, Roy stood in the storm, watching the fresh mound in silence. His eyes—where Tanjiro couldn't see—filmed over with a milky layer of Nen…
Turned away at the door, Tanjiro thought Roy was still angry and held his tongue.
Until a milky-white glow drifted up from the grave—and he heard his big brother bow toward it and say, "Forgive me for meeting you like this.
"I am Kamado Rōichirō. May I ask your name?"
"Gentle Men, Minamino Hirotomo, of Kouchida Village at the foot of Mt. Sagiri. I thank Lord Rōichirō for avenging me."
A gust rolled snow into Tanjiro's face. He rubbed his eyes and stared, baffled…
Roy stroked his brow and, using his body as a conduit, carried a layer of aura onto those amber eyes.
Only then did the foolish otōto notice—right at his feet—
a dim human shape, facing Roy, prostrate in a full dogeza, kowtowing to him.
"Isn't that the uncle the demon ripped open in the shrine just now?" Tanjiro cried.
Yes—exactly him.
He was appearing for the first time in Roy's life as an after-death Nen.