"What are you doing?"
"Hugging a tree."
"Why?"
"To hug the tree."
A vein throbbed on Illumi's forehead. He closed his eyes. Out of sight, out of mind.
The midday sun beat down, but the two Zoldyck brothers had found their own versions of comfort. One was shaded by the cool leaves of a cypress tree, the other by a large parasol. The scene was bizarre, to say the least.
"Young Master Milluki, slow down!"
A chubby toddler waddled into the garden, chasing a butterfly, a frantic butler trailing behind him. Spotting his prey, the three-year-old launched himself forward in a surprisingly agile belly-flop, crushing the insect. He scooped it up and popped it into his mouth.
Crunch, crunch...
A sar of green juice trickled from the corner of his lips. Satisfied, he looked up and saw them: a figure plastered to a tree and a head sticking out of the ground. They both looked familiar.
He toddled over to the hole, peered at Illumi, then wandered over to the tree and stared up at Roy. Then, without any warning, he pulled down his pants and began to pee.
Roy's eye twitched. He glared down at his youngest brother. Milluki t his gaze without a shred of fear and puffed out his chest, the stream arcing dangerously close.
From his hole, Illumi's lip curled in what might have been a smirk of amusent. The sound drew Milluki's attention. The toddler turned, and a hot, steaming stream of urine rained down on Illumi's head.
Milluki let out a sigh of pure, unadulterated relief.
But before he could even pull his pants up, a hand shot out of the ground and grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him into the air.
Illumi was out of the hole, his face a mask of cold fury.
"Three years old," he said, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. "Old enough to begin training. We'll start with electro-shock." He strode off, dangling the pudgy child like a misbehaving cat.
Roy watched them go, then calmly detached himself from the cypress tree and found a new one.
'Calm your mind,' he told himself, leaning against the cool bark of a willow. 'It has nothing to do with you. Adjust your breathing.'
He began to chant in his mind. "I am a tree... I am a tree..."
Before long, he had drifted off to sleep.
"Bro... Bro, wake up..."
This ti, a voice was calling him. He opened his eyes to the familiar, snow-covered world of his dream, a shiver wracking his body. From the furnace into the freezer.
Tanjiro was there with a flask of hot tea. "Bro... it's already dark. We should head back."
The warm liquid helped. Roy looked at the sky. It was pitch black, the landscape visible only by the pale light reflected off the snow. He had been asleep, hugging that tree, for hours. And he'd learned nothing.
"Let's go."
As they walked back towards Urokodaki's cabin, a few ghostly figures trailed them through the woods.
"The hardest part of a Breathing Style is the 'breathing'," a voice whispered in the wind.
"Master had him start with the tree, not the sword. That ans he sees his potential."
"Big deal. If you had passed the test in less than half an hour, he would have seen your potential too."
Shinsuke and Fukuda, the bickering ghosts, were at it again. High above them, in the branches of a tall birch, Sabito and Makomo watched in silence. They knew this night would be the Kamado brothers' last together for a while.
Tanjiro walked behind Roy, his heart heavy. His father was sick. The family needed him. The money, the clothes, the candy—it all had to go ho. He was a responsible boy; he knew that after Roy had been accepted as a student, he couldn't stay.
"The family needs you, and I need this. But I'll co back to check on you. I promise."
The lights of the cabin were visible through the trees. Roy had stopped, turning to face him, a gentle smile on his face. "Tonight, I'll write up a training plan for you. Take it ho and practice. I'll be back once a week to check your progress. If you slack off, don't bla for what happens to your backside."
"I won't let you down!" Tanjiro said, his voice thick with determination.
"Tell Father I haven't forgotten my promise," Roy added, his voice softer. "And tell him and Mother to take care of themselves."
"I will," Tanjiro said, his eyes welling up. He took a deep breath. "The family needs . But the world needs you."
Roy blinked. "Who told you that?"
"Father did," Tanjiro explained. "He said... your heart is too big for one mountain. That you were ant to see the world. He said he was holding you back, and that you shouldn't worry about us. You should just walk your own path."
The wind rustled through the trees, stirring the boy's hair. Roy reached up and touched the sun-patterned earring, his gaze lost in the direction of his distant ho. After a long silence, he simply said, "I will."
The next morning, he watched his brother walk away.
"You're in a hurry," Urokodaki said, appearing beside him. He watched Tanjiro's small figure, turning back every few steps to wave. "A day only has so many hours. Once you account for eating, sleeping, and other necessities, you have less than eight for training. Rushing will not change that."
The old master was right. A human is not a machine. But he couldn't know the truth.
Roy's day could be twenty-four hours long. He could train in his own world during the day, and then, through sleep, co here to train at night.
"Laws can be broken, Master," Roy said with a confident smile. "Perhaps I will grasp the secret of 'breathing' faster than you think."
Tanjiro's figure finally disappeared over the ridge. Roy turned and walked back into the misty forest.
Urokodaki stood there for a long mont, the expression behind his Tengu mask unreadable. Then, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Then I will be watching."
User Comments
0 comments from readers