That smile felt both familiar and foreign to Roy.
Back in the Zoldyck household, he had never seen Silva smile. It was as if "smiling" simply didn't belong on the face of a cold-blooded killer. Not even a sneer or a vicious grin—Roy had never once seen either on Silva. Sometimes he even wondered if Illumi's perpetual blank mask wasn't learned from him.
After all, the elders had said it more than once:
"An assassin must never let emotion sway his judgment."
"Whether joy, anger, grievance, or sorrow—none of it should reach your face. Only absolute calm lets you finish the job without exposing yourself to danger."
Perhaps because Silva and Zeno saw Roy couldn't do that, they concluded his talent for assassination had limits.
To be fair, they weren't wrong. More than being an assassin, Roy firmly believed he should first be a living, feeling person—and only then a professional. Not the other way around; not a machine that erases feeling and knows only killing. That's also why he'd never liked Illumi.
Illumi is too… "by the book."
The family's training had already scrubbed away the joy a child should have had. He should be like Nezuko, Takeo, and Shigeru here—running up to him, chattering as they shared their little triumphs, airing their grievances, or tattling on a sibling. Not wearing a lifeless, dead-fish face and grinding through joyless drills like a robot.
A rush of thoughts flickered by—and in that moment of distraction, little Kamado Shigeru had already latched onto Roy's thigh.
He tilted up his small face, eyes pleading. "Onii-chan~ candy~"
Roy smiled, fished a small cloth pouch from his chest, and flipped him a piece. That set off a riot—Nezuko wanted one, Takeo wanted one—Roy was mobbed on all sides, run ragged in an instant.
He ruffled Nezuko's hair, patted Takeo's back, then warned Shigeru not to gobble or he'd choke. Backlit by the oil lamps, his silhouette fell into Tanjiro's gaze—and at last Tanjiro felt something familiar return.
Yes—this was the big brother Rōichirō he knew. As for the one in the woods just now… that had been a demon who'd swallowed his soul.
"Nii-san, me too…"
Tanjiro rubbed his cheeks and, smiling, joined the scrum. Sensible as he was, he first helped Roy slip the basket off his back, which took a real load off.
Roy nodded to him. After doling out sweets to the little ones, he walked over to Tanjuro.
"For me?" Tanjuro stared at the candy in Roy's outstretched palm, a little dazed. When he came back to himself, his eyes were already hot. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd tasted candy—only vaguely that it was back when his own father, Tanjiro's grandfather, had still been alive…
Time had flown. Now, his child was thoughtful enough to bring him a sweet.
Tanjuro looked at Roy gently and shook his head. "Father doesn't care for candy. You have it."
Roy didn't pull his hand back. "Father gets one, Grandma gets one, Mother gets one—everyone gets one."
Seeing there was no winning with this child, Tanjuro smiled, unwrapped the candy, and let it melt in his mouth. As he savored it, he motioned for Roy to help him into the ceremonial robes for the Fire God.
Offering the Fire God's dance in prayer for safety was a tradition handed down in the Kamado family for generations.
Those dances—and the pair of earrings with sun and mountain motifs on Tanjuro's ears—might mean nothing to others, but Roy, who'd read the original story, knew exactly what they were: Yoriichi Tsugikuni's legacy—
Sun Breathing, and the Hanafuda earrings he'd worn in life.
"Since the time of our ancestor Kamado Sumiyoshi, the family's eldest son has been required to learn the Hinokami Kagura—the Dance of the Fire God. Now…"
"It's your turn, Rōichirō."
The dressing went quickly. As Roy tied the final braided cord, the ever-gentle Tanjuro rose—and his very presence changed.
The red-and-white robes swayed in the wind; the mask emblazoned with a great "Flame" character seemed to come alive.
He beckoned to Roy. "Come."
Roy could barely contain his excitement—and in the same breath realized the chance to remake his physique had arrived.
Hinokami Kagura is Sun Breathing. Sun Breathing is the powerful style Yoriichi created by contemplating the sun—drawing on its power to transform one's body—and it is the source of all other styles: Moon, Stone, Wind, Water, and the rest.
Its core idea boils down to one line: sunlight is the wellspring of all growth—and thus the soil in which every breathing style was nurtured.
Of course, great power means great difficulty.
After Yoriichi devised Sun Breathing, he didn't hoard it. He taught it throughout the Demon Slayer Corps—even to his own elder brother, now Upper Rank One, Kokushibo. Yet neither he nor any other swordsman could bear the weight of the sun well enough to master it.
So from the Warring States era to the present, only Tanjiro truly grasped it and used it in real combat—proof of just how hard it is.
Roy tugged Tanjiro's sleeve. "You too."
Before Tanjiro's confusion cleared, Roy had already stepped into the yard to Tanjuro's side and called up Gyo.
Unlike the four major Nen techniques—Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu—Gyo is just a simple application: focus aura into the eyes.
With Gotoh's careful coaching and the Zoldyck bloodline's boost, it came easily to Roy. A milky sheen settled over his eyes as he stared, unblinking, at Tanjuro's movements.
Using the flow of aura within him, he "parsed" the Hinokami Kagura like animation—burning each frame into memory.
First, "Dance," then "Clear Blue Sky," followed by "Raging Sun," "Fake Rainbow," "Fire Wheel," "Burning Bones, Summer Sun," and "Sunflower Thrust"…
Tanjuro danced through the drifting snow like a fire spirit. Roy shadowed him, copying each move with care. Off to the side, the clumsier Tanjiro tried to keep up.
Once, twice, three times…
Tanjiro, panting hard, began to fall behind.
Hands braced on his knees, he gulped for air, eyes locked on Tanjuro and Roy—tiny body, big questions.
Why did his usually frail father have such stamina tonight?
And how had his big brother gone from the same stiff awkwardness as him to matching their father's rhythm so quickly?