Chapter 17 — The Kamado Brothers Set Out × A Legacy of a Thousand Years
"Two whole days… it'll really take that long?"
"Nii-san, I don't need new clothes. Save the money and buy more food for our younger siblings instead."
Nezuko smiled softly as she spoke, her eyes curved like crescent moons. In that moment, she looked so much like their mother, Kie—gentle, thoughtful, endlessly caring.
"Clothes still need to be bought. And for now, we have plenty to eat."
Just yesterday they had slaughtered a boar; there would be enough meat for half a month.
"That's still too long…" Kie glanced at Roy with quiet worry. "Why do you have to go to Mount Sagiri?"
Simply selling coal at the foot of the mountain was more than enough to cover the Kamado family's needs.
"To learn something new." Roy broke open a rice dumpling, taking a small bite before continuing calmly: "Tanjiro's older now—he can help out with the work. The family doesn't need two people digging coal. If I can pick up another craft down the mountain, I can help supplement our household."
The truth of demons could not be spoken. The Demon Slayer Corps could not be mentioned. With Takeo, Shigeru, and little Hanako still in the house, such words would only frighten them.
But under the same roof, bound by the same blood, Kie and Tanjuro could easily sense that Roy's explanation was far from convincing. And Tanjiro, who had already faced a demon once, could see through it even more clearly.
"Nii-san is lying…" Tanjiro stole glances at Roy.
A single sharp glare from his brother sent him ducking his head, pretending to focus on his miso soup.
"There's no need for you to earn more," Kie said firmly. "Nezuko and I can weave baskets. They'll fetch enough coin in town for a few sets of clothes."
"Yes, Nii-san… I already know how to weave vine strips."
Nezuko quickly reached under the table and pulled out a hand-woven basket filled with thread and sewing supplies. The weave was neat and sturdy, proof of her diligence. The neat patch on her sleeve was clearly her own handiwork as well.
"My Nezuko is so capable." Roy smiled warmly, praising her without reservation. Then his gaze shifted upward, lingering on the silent figure of Tanjuro. Finally, he turned back to Kie and, with quiet insistence, said, "No. I have to go."
"Maybe… just maybe, I can find a way to heal Father."
Kie opened her mouth but could not bring herself to argue.
Tanjuro's illness had long been the family's unspoken burden. If there truly was hope of treatment, that was a blessing none of them could deny.
Nezuko and Tanjiro exchanged a glance, eyes flickering toward their father. Tanjuro said nothing. He reached into the woven basket, drew out a fine needle, and rose to his feet.
With the same gentle voice as always, he said:
"Sumihiko… come with me."
The heavy snow bent the pines low.
Wrapped in a thick winter coat, Tanjuro stepped off the veranda first, Roy silently trailing behind him. Father and son rounded the corner to the back of the house, their fresh footprints quickly erased by the falling snow.
"Hold out your ear. Endure it—it'll sting, but only for a moment."
The needle gleamed between Tanjuro's fingers. He gestured for Roy to expose his earlobe. Then, with a swift motion, he pierced it clean through.
The sting was brief—no worse than a mosquito bite—and gone in an instant.
Then Roy saw Tanjuro remove the Hanafuda earrings once passed down from Yoriichi Tsugikuni himself. Carefully, he fastened them onto Roy's ears, adjusting their position as he murmured:
"Your father is useless… I cannot give you much. But the heirloom of our family, these earrings, I now entrust to you."
"May the God of Fire bless my child, free from illness and misfortune, safe and at peace."
The earrings swayed gently in the winter wind, dangling from Roy's ears with a faint clink.
Tanjuro smiled as he looked at him. Just like his father once looked at him when he was young, his gaze was proud and satisfied. "Good. You look strong. Spirited."
Roy's throat felt tight. A thousand words pressed against his chest, but in the end, all that came out was a dry, clumsy promise:
"I'll find a cure for you, Father."
Tanjuro patted his shoulder, smiling faintly. "Let's go."
He turned, leaving behind the thin silhouette of his back.
Roy lingered in silence for a moment, until a chill crept down his neck—snow had fallen from the pines above, slipping cold into his collar. He drew in a long breath and followed.
It was 6:55 in the morning.
The two foolish roosters cooped in their basket had yet to crow, but the Kamado brothers were already prepared to set out. Baskets strapped to their backs, canteens filled with tea, rice dumplings packed away, and a pair of sharpened axes secured at their waists.
He couldn't carry Yukizō into this world in its manifested form, so axes would have to serve as their weapons. They were enough to ward off beasts—or hack a way through brambles on rough trails.
Kie fussed over them until the very end—tugging at Tanjiro's hem, tightening Roy's scarf around his neck, her voice full of endless reminders:
"Take your time on the road… If there's danger, don't get involved. Don't go staring where there are crowds… If it gets late, spend money on an inn, don't you dare camp in the mountains…"
Tanjiro, blunt as ever, blurted out: "Mother, it's not like we won't be coming back. You don't need to worry so much."
This was his first time leaving the mountain, and excitement shone through his words. He patted the axe at his hip, puffing out his chest as he added with confidence:
"If danger comes, I'll protect Nii-san first!"
"You not dragging your brother down would be enough." Kie gave him a sharp look, then turned her gaze onto Roy, heavy with trust and worry. "Take care of your brother."
Roy gave a quiet mn in reply, his eyes sweeping once across Kie, Tanjuro, and Nezuko—before finally resting on his grandmother, who had just stepped out carrying little Hanako.
"Ah-ba… ah-ba…" The baby stretched her arms out toward him, eyes still sticky with sleep, crust still clinging at the corners.
Roy didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and planted a kiss on her soft cheek, then smiled at his grandmother. "Wait for me to come back."
His grandmother nodded with a gentle smile, settling on the veranda with Hanako in her arms. She watched them go, tears welling until they slid down her cheeks.
The young leave home, the old await their return. The voice remains the same, but silver creeps into the hair.
She whispered hoarsely, "Kie… why does it feel as if we won't see Sumihiko again after today?"
Kie wiped her own tears away with the back of her hand. "I'll go check on Takeo and Shigeru. Once they find out their big brother left without telling them, those little troublemakers will raise a storm."
She turned, not answering, and disappeared into the courtyard.
The snow thickened, falling faster and heavier. The vast yard stretched into the white forest beyond, and in the end, only Tanjuro remained, standing still in the snowfall, staring long after the boys had vanished from sight.
When he could see them no more, he raised his arms—
—and began to dance the Kagura of the Fire God.
"Enbu (Flame Dance)."
"Heki-ra no Ten (Clear Blue Sky)."
"San no Kata: Retsujitsu Kōkyō (Raging Sun)."
"Shi no Kata: Gen'nichi Kō (Fake Rainbow)."
His movements cut through the drifting snow, body like a spirit of flame, whirling amidst the winter storm.
But this time, no earrings swung from his ears.
The heirloom that symbolized Yoriichi's bond with the Kamado family for a thousand years was no longer his—it had been passed to a new bearer, to walk a new path, to live a life even Yoriichi himself, in his grave, could never have imagined.
A life destined to blaze brilliantly.