[HxH] Ch 5: A Dream?

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No one gave Tanjiro an answer. Not even Tanjuro himself could explain.

All he knew was that the Hinokami Kagura had been passed down from their ancestors, and as long as he willed it, he could keep dancing through the night.

He didn't understand why, but Roy did. Through the use of Gyo, he could see it clearly—

It was the Sun Breathing that gave Tanjuro strength. It kept him warm against the cold. It gave him stamina to keep moving.

But the truth was harsh. Tanjuro didn't know how to properly harness that power, or maybe his frail body simply couldn't withstand it.

Once… twice… three times… five, six…

Sleeves fluttered, scattering snowflakes. Tanjiro could no longer keep up. With a loud thump, he dropped to the ground, exhausted.

On that snowy night, only two figures were left dancing—Tanjuro and Roy.

From awkward and stiff, to barely passable, to finally moving with grace and ease, Roy flowed more smoothly with each round, until at last he could match Tanjuro's rhythm step for step.

Tanjuro noticed. At first, his eyes widened in surprise. Then, with a faint smile tugging at his lips, he deliberately quickened the pace, testing Roy.

And as he watched the boy keep up, a thought rose unbidden in his heart: 'If only my father could see this… he'd be astonished at how naturally Roy has picked up Hinokami Kagura.'

But the old man was long gone, and would never see it. And Tanjuro himself could already feel his own time running short.

A cold wind stirred, snapping him from his thoughts. Snow slipped through his mask and kissed his face.

A bittersweet smile spread across him, heavy with guilt and regret.

His mother was old, too frail to work. He himself had been plagued by illness since his youth.

The family had grown in recent years—more children, more mouths to feed—leaving everything on Kie's shoulders.

Soon, all of that weight would fall onto Roy alone.

And as a father, the only thing he could do now was pray.

'Then let me pray in earnest… Pray to the Fire God above, protect my family, keep them safe from sickness and harm…'

With a sweep of his sleeves, Tanjuro danced on. At the eighth repetition, he finally stopped.

He lifted the edge of the mask, revealing his pale, sickly face.

Roy, still a half-beat behind, reluctantly stopped as well. He stepped forward, steadying Tanjuro by the arm and helping him back to the veranda.

Tanjuro patted his hand, then slumped against a pillar to rest.

The children cheered, crowding around in noisy excitement.

Some praised Tanjuro's graceful dancing. Others called Roy amazing. A few laughed at Tanjiro, saying he hopped like a clumsy frog.

Tanjiro didn't get angry. He lunged at Takeo instead, trying to tug that little tuft of hair on his head, but the boy dodged with a grin and hid behind Roy.

"Nii-san, Tanjiro's such an idiot!" Takeo jeered.

"Oi. He's your older brother too, so call him Tanjiro-nii-san."

"Fine… Tanjiro-nii-san is an idiot!"

Roy flicked Takeo lightly on the head with a chop, giving him a mock glare before sitting back down, replaying the moves in his head.

He knew better than anyone—Tanjiro wasn't stupid. His progress had nothing to do with brains.

The truth was, he had two unfair advantages.

First, with Gyo, he could break down Tanjuro's movements with perfect clarity.

Second, thanks to the brutal Zoldyck training and bloodline he carried, his body was far tougher than Tanjiro's. Mimicking came naturally.

But even so, Tanjiro was destined to master the Sun Breathing.

As for Roy… he still had to face one ultimate trial: bearing the weight of the sun itself.

Endure it, and the Breath would be his. Fail, and it would all end in vain.

Roy steadied his thoughts. When he was done reviewing, he rose and slipped into the kitchen. Not long after, he returned with two plates of rice dumplings—plain white rice wrapped in vinegar cloth, drizzled with a bit of sauce. That, along with the miso soup Kie had prepared, was the feast for tonight's full ritual.

The soup even had a single piece of pork bone. So simple it left Roy momentarily stunned.

Born into the Zoldyck household, he'd never once eaten so poorly. His meals had always been rich, laced with meat and medicines to fuel his training.

But looking now at Tanjuro's frail state, at Kie, at the grandmother, at the children's pale faces, Roy finally understood.

In an age ruled by demons, simply staying alive was already a luxury.

And in two years' time, except for Tanjiro and Nezuko, every one of these bright, living faces before him would be gone.

That was not a fate Roy was willing to accept.

'We are family now. At the very least, I'll make sure they can eat meat.'

His mind set, he joined the family for dinner. Hands pressed in prayer, he picked up chopsticks and dug in with gusto.

It wasn't long before the meal was over.

Later, he helped Kie clear the dishes, tucked the little ones into bed, then slipped into his own bedding, shedding the day's exhaustion.

Night was deep, but the snow outside glowed so bright it could've been day.

Roy, Tanjiro, Takeo, and Shigeru all slept side by side in one big futon.

Eyes closed, Roy could still hear Takeo grinding his teeth and Shigeru letting out tiny farts.

Everything felt so vivid—the sounds, the smells, the air itself. He caught himself wondering: when he woke, would it all disappear? Would he find himself back in the real world?

Was this reality, or just a simulation made by the system?

Meanwhile, Tanjiro tossed and turned, unable to sleep. At last he whispered, eyes wide in the dark: "Roy-nii… are you awake?"

"Roy-nii" was what Tanjiro alone called him. The others, even Nezuko, always said "Roy-niisan."

Roy kept his eyes shut. "I'm asleep."

"..."

Tanjiro made a tiny "oh" and pulled the blanket over his head.

Roy knew what he wanted to ask. And Tanjiro knew Roy didn't want to answer.

What Tanjiro didn't know was that Roy wasn't avoiding—he just hadn't figured out how to explain.

After all, this was his first time standing at the doorway of understanding, his first time truly touching this world.

'So, my foolish little brother… please, just give me a little more time. Just a little…'

With that thought, Roy drifted into sleep.

Until—

"Awoooo!"

A dog's bark jolted him awake.

The bark belonged to none other than Mike, the beast the Zoldycks kept for devouring trespassers… and for crowing at dawn.

Sure enough, it was 3:50 AM.

Roy sat up, blinking.

In the corner stood the familiar clock, his desk, his wardrobe. He was back. The Demon Slayer world had vanished, and he was once again inside Kukuroo Mountain's grand estate.

Just moments ago he'd been huddled in a drafty cabin against the snow. Now he was in a stone castle, sweltering under its warmth.

Was he in a dream… or was this real? Maybe he wasn't even real right now, just trapped in a dream within a dream… like Inception.

Roy sat there in silence, lost in thought.

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