Minamino Hirotomo finally fell silent and sighed, the wrinkles on his face deepening.
Humans are emotional creatures—who could truly be completely at peace in a moment like this? In that small home of his, not only his daughter was waiting; his wife, his mother, and a tangle of familiar and unfamiliar relatives and friends were all worrying over him… And now? He was nothing but a stray soul taking shelter under another's roof.
"You're both blessed and unfortunate," Roy said at last. He helped Minamino up, his expression solemn. "I'll grant your request."
"Tanjiro, bring your canteen."
"Okay."
Tanjiro didn't know why his brother wanted the canteen, but he obeyed—lifting the lamp and braving the wind and snow to step into the shrine.
Roy took Minamino by the hand, wrapped the remnant soul in Nen, and followed in silence. He crossed the high threshold, stretched a foot back to pull the door shut, and kept the storm outside.
A low moan of wind skimmed the slopes like ghosts wailing.
After a thorough cleaning, the shrine had no blood-reek left; it felt renewed. Roy split a broken board for kindling, sparked a small bonfire, and soon the room was warm as spring.
By then Tanjiro had brought the canteen. Roy unscrewed its cap, pulled out his own canteen, and poured all of his water into Tanjiro's, leaving one empty. He turned to Minamino. "I'll have to ask you to make do in the canteen for tonight.
"At first light, I'll take you to your family."
"Much obliged, Rōichirō-sama." Minamino bowed. When he lifted his head again, he'd become a faint mote of light; guided by Roy's aura, he slipped into the canteen.
Pop. The stopper thumped into place.
Roy smiled. "No trouble. We're headed to Mt. Sagiri anyway; it's on the way."
The canteen trembled slightly, as if in reply.
Tanjiro craned in, poking and peering; it was his first time seeing a person tucked into a canteen, and he couldn't help asking, "Nii-san, can people be stored in a canteen like that?"
"People can't. Demons can." Roy tapped Tanjiro's hand away, tucked the canteen inside his clothes, and nursed it with a thread of Nen. Thinking on Tanjiro's question, the first demon that sprang to mind was Upper Rank Five—Gyokko. In the original story, Gyokko could shrink himself to hide in a pot and "shed" to enlarge—clear talent for space-related tricks.
"Oh… I thought you could put me in too. Then I could follow you anywhere," Tanjiro said, deflated, and sulked off like a scolded cat.
Roy flicked two dumplings at him; they bounced off his head.
The foolish otōto had mistaken his canteen for some magic gourd—what, say a word and it sucks people in? Dream on.
Night deepened. Outside, the storm showed no sign of letting up. The brothers ate two dumplings by the fire and drank a little water, then made bedrolls on the floor. The blanket was one Kie had stuffed into the basket to cushion the coal; knock the dust out and it became a quilt.
After eating, Tanjiro lay beside Roy, turned toward the flickering fire, and murmured, "Hey… Nii-san, do you think the world out there is really that cruel…?"
The woodcutter eaten by Sato Takeichiro, Minamino with his guts torn out by Dohihara—these days he had seen too many dead and learned how terrifying demons are. He tossed and turned, eyes bright and unblinking, watching Roy.
Roy folded his hands over his stomach, closed his eyes, and feigned sleep. A thousand faces, a thousand worlds—everyone's "world" is different. To some, this place is hell; from Muzan's point of view and his demons', it's a paradise—a larder where the "food" bleeds and walks on two legs.
"Hmph…" With no answer, Tanjiro huffed and turned his back. Roy ignored him, emptied his mind, and slipped into sleep.
That familiar drop—
He opened his eyes in his familiar bedroom.
The night was both long and short—like nothing had happened, yet everything had. Only the clock chiming in the corner reminded Roy…
It was 4:00 a.m. Time to run.
Heat—just one word.
Roy pulled on a tank top and shorts, threaded through Kukuroo Mountain, taking in a landscape utterly unlike the Demon Slayer world.
He was still a bit dazed, as if he hadn't fully left the cognitive world. Not until he reached halfway up and saw lights on in the butlers' villa—people already bustling, the faint smell of toast drifting from the kitchen—did he come back to himself. He kept his pace and continued toward the foot.
One kilometer, two… This pace is a little quicker than before…
Thanks to Breathing practice and gains in Shadow Step, he felt clearly faster. He popped open his panel—
[Physique] had grown from 10.05 to 10.55—half a "normal human" added on top. Not a leap, but the plateau was broken.
His mouth tipped in a faint curve; a bit of good mood put wind in his legs. One more glance, and he was at the security post.
"Morning, young master." The guard at the post—Zebro, not yet the "old guy in a tank-top" he'd become—was in his prime, hair still clinging on, though the hairline had receded toward the Mediterranean. He doffed his cap to Roy.
Roy returned a smile and was about to jog on when—boom.
The Zoldyck "Testing Gate," symbol of the estate's absolute strength, was pushed inward from outside—three doors.
The Testing Gate has seven leaves, doubling in weight with each door from top to bottom. The smallest weighs two tons; pushing three open means a force on the order of fourteen tons.
"Welcome home, Young Master Illumi."
No sooner had Zebro replaced his cap after saluting Roy than he snatched it off again to salute Illumi—surprised to meet both young masters at this hour for the first time.
Boom. The gate shut with another thunderclap.
Illumi walked in, face blank, ignoring Zebro entirely. His hollow eyes locked onto Roy.
"Just so you know…
"I've opened my aura nodes too."