Chapter 78: Ode to Solitude x A Boy's Resolve
Go home... had another year really passed already?
Sakonji Urokodaki's hand paused as he sliced the pickled radish. He looked up, out the window. The snow had been falling, year after year. It seemed like nothing had changed, and yet, everything had. After a moment of silence, he simply said, "Okay."
Bubble... bubble... The porridge simmering on the stove bubbled up, pushing the lid open. The old man hurriedly lifted it, scalding his hand.
"Master!" Makomo scampered over, pouting and blowing on his burn. Then, a pair of broad hands, calloused from long hours gripping a sword, took over for Sakonji.
Roy lifted the lid and turned off the heat in one smooth motion. "Master, let me," he said with a smile. "You always take care of me. Let me handle these small tasks."
The porridge was ready. All that was left was to slice some pickled radish and the leftover cured boar meat from last night. Simple enough. Sakonji Urokodaki nodded without further comment, left the kitchen, and sat quietly by the heated table to wait. Makomo knelt beside him, her expression downcast.
"Eiichiro is going home. Master will be alone again for the New Year."
"What can we do about it? Haven't things always been this way?" Shinsuke touched the large bump on his forehead, wincing in pain. Fortunately, Fukuda was in worse shape; his face was swollen like a pig's, completely unrecognizable. That was the price for making fun of his height! "Look on the bright side. Once Eiichiro avenges us, there'll be even fewer people to keep Master company next year."
"If you can't say anything nice, shut up!" Fukuda snapped, noticing Makomo lower her head, her eyes growing dimmer. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was swollen like a sausage, making it impossible. He ended up sighing. To remain in the world of the living due to lingering regrets was already a blessing; one shouldn't ask for too much.
"But I just want to..." Makomo stubbornly bit her lower lip, tears welling up. Her body unconsciously leaned closer to Sakonji Urokodaki, but a sword suddenly interposed itself, blocking her.
"Calm down." Sabito held his tachi, looking seriously at Makomo. "Master's spirit is too strong. You know approaching him will burn you."
Burn? So that's why Sabito could pull Tanjiro into his own consciousness but couldn't do anything to Sakonji Urokodaki?
Roy, slicing radishes in the kitchen, quietly observed the scene out of the corner of his eye. He understood what Sabito and Makomo lacked: a medium, a bridge built of Nen, to communicate with the living!
Roy himself wasn't opposed to being that bridge; he was willing, just as he had helped Hiro Minamino see his family. The boy calculated the timing and decided: the night before he left for the New Year. That was a time for family reunions, for celebration, for happiness.
Makomo eventually calmed down, moving half a body length away from Sakonji. Sabito sheathed his sword, sighing silently. He didn't know how to comfort her. Fortunately, a cheerful voice broke the somber mood—
"Porridge is ready~"
Roy brought out the breakfast, dispelling the heavy atmosphere.
Makomo sniffled, seeming to revert to her usual hungry-kitten state. Roy deliberately tempted her, waving the plate of cured boar meat under her nose. The girl licked her lips, the light returning to her dull eyes.
Whoosh~ Outside, the snow fell heavily; inside, steam rose gently.
It was as if nothing had happened, and yet, everything had. After the meal, Roy took the initiative to wash the dishes without Sakonji having to lift a finger. He then took his training blade and went out to practice.
After he left, Sakonji Urokodaki quietly went to the head of the bed, felt under the bedding by the pillow, and pulled out a sock. He counted out some silver coins and put them into a small cloth pouch embroidered with a fox head.
"Heh... that Eiichiro guy sure is lucky. What's Master doing... preparing New Year's money for him?" Shinsuke watched jealously as Sakonji carefully tucked the pouch away close to his body. The sour feeling made his teeth ache again; he wasn't sure if it was from Fukuda's punch.
"Hey~ Did Master ever give you New Year's money?" Makomo poked Sabito. The fox-masked boy stiffened slightly and shook his head. Since he and Giyu had been adopted, they hadn't seen a single copper coin, let alone lucky money. Master provided for all their needs. They were too grateful to even think of asking for money.
However... Makomo beamed, her big eyes curving into crescents. "I'll tell you a secret," she whispered, "I got some~"
"That's because Master sees you as a girl and takes care of you."
"I don't care. All I know is, I got some, and you didn't. That's enough."
Sabito feigned exasperation and followed Roy out toward the forest. Well, at least Makomo is happy. That's what matters. The fox-masked boy tightened his grip on his tachi and vanished into the snowstorm.
"Forty-seven thousand... forty-nine... fifty thousand... fifty-one thousand..."
Adding another thousand swings each day was the minimum requirement Roy set for himself.
[Notification: Swordsmanship +53]
With a backhand slash, the boy's blade grazed past Sabito's ear and struck a cypress tree behind him. CRACK—!
The cypress, thicker than two people could wrap their arms around, was split cleanly down the middle.
The sharpness and accuracy of the blade were astonishing. Sabito felt his fighting spirit ignite, his hand instinctively reaching for his hilt, but he quickly suppressed the urge.
Roy let out a long breath and sheathed his sword, pretending not to notice the boy's hand on his tachi. That night, he returned to the cabin, had a simple dinner, and lay down on the bed, still clothed.
Night deepened, and fatigue crept in. Roy fell into a deep sleep. Once again, through the method of deep sleep, he left the world of Demon Slayer and returned to Kukuroo Mountain.
The familiar sensation of falling, though delayed, arrived.
The boy opened his eyes on the soft, large bed, the familiar chime of the grandfather clock's pendulum striking the gong echoing in his ears.
Four in the morning. Another day.
Roy rolled out of bed, went for his usual morning run, and returned to eat breakfast while listening to Gotoh report the day's training plan.
"It's poison resistance training again today." Gotoh pushed up the glasses on his nose, glancing cautiously at Roy. "Also, there's one other thing. The Oldest Master has requested that you prepare dinner for him tonight."
Which Old Master? There were many 'Old Masters' in the house: Silva, Zeno, Maha... Roy looked up.
The young butler, who had been growing his beard for several months, finally sported a respectable shape. "It's Master Maha," he clarified.
Probably craving something different again. Roy thought, nodding faintly. "Understood." He listed two dishes for Gotoh to relay to the kitchen: "Chicken and Mushroom Stew" and "Smashed Cucumber Salad."
Gotoh noted them down, cleared the dishes, and left with the cart.
Roy picked up Snow-Walker from its stand, followed him out, and headed to the training room. He endured the poison resistance training, practiced the Sun Breathing, and then went down to the basement again to hone his Ren. This time, he only lasted one minute and forty-three seconds—not much progress.
Could it be true, as Grandpa Zzigg said, that from now on, only time can refine it?
The boy left the secret room with a heavy heart. The airtight door slammed shut behind him. He took a deep breath of the air outside, recalling the training scenes of Gon and Killua with Wing and Biscuit. He walked out of the passage, not even hearing Scarface and One-Eye greet him, and wandered through the castle corridors from memory, lost in thought. At one point, he stopped, seeing...
A thin, frail figure, hands clasped behind his back, leaning against a window frame, admiring the night view. Only then did Roy remember that his great-great-grandfather had asked him to cook tonight.
"It's already eight o'clock! Where's this old man's dinner?" Speak of the devil. Maha turned his head.
Roy gave an sheepish smile and quickly made excuses. "I'll go make it right now."
"Forget it..." Maha waved his hand dismissively and turned back to the window. The moon was high, the night perfect. Dining on moonlight wouldn't be so bad.
Seeing this, Roy tried to slip past him quietly. Just as he was about to brush past his shoulder, Maha stopped him.
"This old man hasn't eaten, and you think you can?"
"Get over here and stand with me!"
"Yes, sir..." Roy silently retracted his foot and stood beside Maha, joining him in looking at the view.
The old man pointed to the willow tree in the garden. "What do you see?"
"A willow tree."
"And?"
"Willow branches."
Maha glared. "I'm asking you about what's on it."
This time, Roy focused his gaze, even using Gyo. "It's a bird's nest."
"Oh, so you do know it's a bird's nest."
"I'm not an idiot."
"You are an idiot," Maha retorted, shooting him a look. "Even baby birds know to chirp and beg the mother bird for food."
"Why don't you?"
Roy frowned.
The old man glared at him, exasperated. "Do you know what Silva hates most about you?"
"What?"
"That self-righteous attitude of yours! That naive belief that you can handle everything on your own!"
Roy was silent.
"You're too strong-willed, Roy."
"And too arrogant."
Maha turned back to the window. A mother bird flew back, carrying several insects, and landed on the edge of the nest. The chick that chirped the loudest ate the most. "Because you're too strong-willed," the old man said gravely, "you think you can do everything yourself. You've never thought of relying on anyone. That's why Silva feels unneeded."
"And when a father feels unneeded, anger naturally arises."
Sha sha... A cold wind blew past, rustling the boy's bangs and the willow branches together.
Roy listened intently, his memories flooding back. Ever since childhood, thanks to the system panel and his reincarnation, he had felt he could rely on himself. Whether it was studying or training, he avoided asking for help whenever possible. The number of times he had asked Silva for anything could be counted on one hand. Recently, the only time was when asking to learn Nen, and even then, he had gone through Gotoh, taking a roundabout route.
Thinking about it now, he had indeed been too "independent." Independence had turned into aloofness, gradually slipping out of control, becoming arrogance, and ultimately, utter disregard for others.
Finally, Roy looked out. In the nest, the one chick that hadn't opened its mouth to chirp was pushed out by the others. It fell to the ground with a soft thud. Before it could even open its eyes to see the world, it was gone.
"Do you understand?" Maha asked softly after a long pause.
Roy took a deep breath and bowed. "Thank you, Great-Great-Grandfather."
The old man turned away, humming noncommittally. "Get lost."
Roy straightened up, turned away from the direction of his bedroom, and headed toward the second floor.
Tap... tap... Under the lights, the boy's shadow already resembled that of an adult. He rounded the corner and disappeared.
In a dimly lit corner, a shadow stirred. Zeno emerged, hands behind his back. He glanced toward the second floor, then slowly walked over to stand beside Maha. "Grandfather certainly has a way with him. Just a few words, and you've subdued the boy."
"If I hadn't stepped in, this family would be falling apart," Maha snorted. "Squat!"
Zeno: "..." This has nothing to do with me... "Grandfather, we need to be reasonable..."
"Squat!"
"Yes, sir..." Zeno covered his head and squatted. A sharp rap landed on his skull. "I AM reason!" the old man yelled furiously.
"Your grandson? My grandson? Don't you understand the principle of leading by example?"
"Kill, kill, kill! Can't you take a dump without killing someone first?"
"If you bother this old man again, I'll beat you to death with a stick!"
Crude Enhancer brute... Zeno felt wronged. How was he supposed to know he'd end up with a house full of stubborn mules? One wouldn't bow his head, the other refused to yield. Besides bringing out the Oldest Master, what else could he do?
Fortunately, it had worked. Zeno silently endured Maha's verbal abuse. Once the old man had calmed down, he gently massaged his back, helping him relax.
In the small, dimly lit room, the cartoons came back on, the rocking chair started rocking again. The old man enjoyed Zeno's massage and grunted, "Hungry. When that kid comes back, tell him to prepare a meal."
"This old man absolutely must have a taste of something fresh today!"
Zeno: "..." So stubborn.
The night deepened.
Walking up the stone staircase from the first floor to the second, Roy felt as though the simple act of climbing stairs had never taken so long, like ascending to the heavens. Torches flickered on the walls, stretching his shadow long behind him. Step by step, he finally reached the second floor. He paused before a bedroom door—not particularly grand, but possessing an aged dignity—and stood still.
Through the crack under the door, he could see a light was on inside.
The boy raised his hand, held it hovering in the air, took a deep breath—no longer hesitating, no longer wavering, no longer lost or evasive—and knocked.
Knock... knock... knock...
Creeak—
The door opened.
A tall figure blocked the entrance, silver hair cascading down to his waist. He looked down at Roy, completely eclipsing the light from behind him.
Silva's face was devoid of expression. "What is it?"
Roy looked straight back. "Something."
"What is it?"
"About learning."
"Why should I teach you?"
"Because you're my father. You should teach me."
"Teach you what?"
"Teach me how to defeat you," Roy said seriously. "I thought we could start with Ren."
Silva was silent, staring intently at him for a long moment. Then, a low chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Heh heh heh... Hahaha!"
The laughter grew louder, wilder, startling Kikyo on the bed. "Who is it, Silva?" she called out.
The man stepped out, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the boy. He placed a large hand on Roy's shoulder. "From today on, whatever you want to learn, I will teach you. I will stand right here, I won't dodge, I won't evade. I'll be waiting for you to come and kill me!"
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