Chapter 84/85: Year-End Festival × Returning Home
Year-End Festival
Having taken his leave of Master Sakonji Urokodaki, Roy stepped onto the road home.
His basket bulged with supplies: medicine for his father, new clothes for his mother and sister Nezuko, candy for Takeo and Shigeru, and a bamboo dragonfly for little Hanako. And beneath it all lay the reluctant gazes of Sabito, Makomo, and the other disciples, unwilling to see him go.
"I'm not leaving forever," the young boy had laughed.
He understood their pain. Without him as their medium, they could reunite with their master, but then face separation again—a cruelty they wouldn't voice even knowing it. Yet Roy felt the weight of their emotions and unspoken hopes pressing down on him.
"Don't worry. Even when I'm not here, you'll still be able to see Master," he'd promised before leaving.
The promise rested on one condition: Shu.
Shu was an advanced application of Ten—using Ten to coat the user's aura onto physical objects, strengthening their substance even after contact ended. Duration depended entirely on the user's Nen strength.
Sabito had slapped his shoulder. "We'll believe in you."
Master had prepared compressed money, stuffing it into Roy's embrace. They all thought the young boy was offering empty comfort.
Roy had simply smiled, turned, and walked into the mountain forest, leaving behind two sets of footprints that the wind would soon erase.
Along the narrow mountain path, Roy encountered a wild boar. He slayed it swiftly, then carried the carcass into town where he sold it, exchanged the money for supplies, and prepared gifts for his family. As daylight faded, he hurried down the familiar route, catching the faint scent of his family.
He smiled and activated Zetsu, lowering his presence to near nothing. Following the scent, he found a clearing where a dark-haired boy with red tips stood before a withered tree, striking it repeatedly with an axe.
One thousand one hundred fifty-one. One thousand four hundred fifty-two. One thousand seven hundred seventy-nine. Two thousand.
The boy—Tanjiro, Roy's younger brother—roared as his axe fell. The withered tree cracked, toppled, and pieces tumbled into a basket beside him.
Tanjiro wiped sweat from his brow and straightened, staring distantly toward the fog-shrouded mountain. His attention seemed fixed in that direction.
Three months had passed since his older brother left home. Tanjiro had lost count of how many times he'd wanted to climb that mountain to search for him. Only the basket of wood and his siblings' resistance had stopped him. But at least—at least Roy sent money every week through a crow, a bird his master had arranged to keep them informed.
When the crow arrived, their mother smiled and seemed to breathe easier, knowing Roy was doing well. She never spent the money he sent—she locked it away in a wooden box, saying it was for when Roy took a wife someday.
Taking a wife? Probably something like how Father and Mother are with each other, Tanjiro thought absently, exhaling white breath that froze in the cold air.
He bent to gather the fallen wood, but his nose twitched. Unfamiliar feet stood before him.
Following the feet upward—along legs, across the chest—he finally saw the face.
His axe clattered to the ground.
"Older Brother!"
Tanjiro launched himself at Roy, nearly upending the basket of wood in his excitement. Pieces scattered across the snow.
"Tanjiro, you've grown tall," Roy smiled, touching his younger brother's head. The red-haired boy's words caught in his throat, threatening to spill as tears, but he bit his lower lip and held them back.
He clung to Roy like a young mouse, and Roy let him, listening patiently to his chatter as he gathered the scattered wood and returned it to the basket.
"You didn't even send a letter. Mother's been asking if you were coming home for the festival."
"I wanted to give you all a surprise."
"We don't want surprises. We just want you to come home more often. Even little Hanako doesn't remember you anymore."
"That's my fault."
"You didn't do anything wrong. Father says you're at the age when duties can't be delayed. Not coming home for the festival doesn't mean neglecting your responsibilities."
"I see. How is Father?"
"We called a doctor. His condition is stable now."
"Good. That's good."
The sun descended as the two brothers walked through the snow, passing through the forest in silence. As evening fell, Roy paused and raised his eyes. Smoke drifted from chimneys. From the eastern house—their home—smoke rose steadily. Roy took a deep breath, feeling something settle in his chest.
Tanjiro jumped down and stood beside him, both looking toward their distant home. Faintly, they could hear children's laughter, their father's cough, and the blur of voices creating a warm picture.
"Let's go," Roy said, and they walked forward together.
At the gate, Roy paused.
The gate swung open. Wind and snow stilled mid-gust.
From every direction—the main house, the kitchen, the back yard—heads popped out. Then silence. Then the world erupted with cheers.
"Eiichiro!"
"Older brother!"
"Grandmother, come quickly! Eiichiro's home!"
"Who is it?"
"It's Eiichiro!"
Takeo and Shigeru rushed out, throwing their arms around Roy's legs from both sides. Their mother, Kie, appeared at the kitchen window, the bamboo curtain pushed back; her hands still held fresh tempura, her eyes red with tears streaming down her face.
Nezuko supported their grandmother, who held little Hanako in her arms. Their father, Tanjuro, straightened from where he sat by the fire, his posture improving with effort.
Roy's mouth curved into a warm smile. "I'm home."
"Welcome home. Thank goodness you're home," their grandmother said, setting Hanako down with Nezuko before embracing Roy, her silver-haired head pressing into his chest. "My treasured grandson. Let me look at you."
Tanjiro helped carry the basket down.
Takeo and Shigeru bombarded Roy with greetings, their eyes bright as they discovered the candy hidden in the basket.
Kei wiped her tears, set down her kitchen work, and began frying fresh tempura. A returning child couldn't be allowed to go hungry.
Roy touched his grandmother's back and met his father's gaze across the room. Tanjuro smiled faintly at him, and even his cough seemed lighter.
As night fell, firecrackers exploded in the town below, their sound carrying up the mountain. New Year's prayers were offered for the safety of all.
Roy purchased a handful of sparklers at the market and sat beside his father. Together, they watched Tanjiro, Hanako, Takeo, and Shigeru play and laugh in the yard. Roy accepted the hot tea his father handed him.
"Eiichiro, welcome home," Tanjuro said, raising his cup.
Roy raised his own cup to meet it. This one year had been satisfying indeed.