Roy drank his tea in silence.
Tanjiro sat on pins and needles, a lump in his throat.
The grandmother and the woman both went pale. The latter hadn't grasped it at first; now she did—her hands twisted together, ten fingers digging hard into her hem.
A moment later, a sigh…
The grandmother seemed to age ten years in an instant. In a low voice she said, "Hirotomo's a stubborn child.
"Out on the road all year, he treats silver as dearer than life…
"He always said unless he was gone, nobody was to touch his basket…"
Now the basket was back and the man was not. The meaning was obvious.
"Child, tell Grandma the truth." By the end her voice was shaking, as if she were on the verge of breaking—held together only by sheer will. "Is Hirotomo… not coming back?"
The tight air in the room froze solid. The brazier on the table might as well not have been there; it felt colder than the dead of winter outside.
Tanjiro's stiff neck creaked as he looked to Roy for help…
Roy noticed the little girl, Shizuki, glance from her mother to her grandmother, then back to him and Tanjiro in confusion. He waved for Tanjiro to take her out "to have a snowball fight."
Neither woman objected.
Only then did Roy set down his cup and say quietly, "To be frank, this should come from Mr. Minamino himself."
Both women blinked.
Then they felt a warmth rise from the table, flow up through their knees and into their eyes, and—
a familiar figure stood before them, though neither knew when he'd appeared.
It was…
a mother's son, a child's father, a wife's husband—Minamino Hirotomo.
"Hirotomo!"
"Mother… Naoko…"
Using the table as a medium, the Nen linking the two women surged.
Roy closed his eyes and let them have the room; inwardly he knew exactly what he was sensing—an impact of intense emotion.
Emotion shows in Nen as color…
If everyone in the house were Nen users, the tiny room would feel full to bursting with those stirred feelings—shaded gray and dim, thick with grief and pain beyond words.
Outside, the north wind wailed; children's bright laughter blew in on the gusts…
Roy looked out on reflex. Shizuki was sprinting happily with Tanjiro. By the snowman she'd made with her mother lay the bamboo hobbyhorse Minamino had bought her. She shouted and laughed, scooped a clump of snow, and flung it at Tanjiro; he put on a pained act and fled, sending her shrieking after him.
Inside, the room slowly calmed.
The kettle boiled, popping the lid and sending up a spout of steam.
After speaking with Minamino, the grandmother and the woman pressed their hands together at their brows and bowed low to Roy, full dogeza.
"Thank you, Rōichirō-sama, for avenging my son / my husband!"
"Hardly more than a passing deed." Roy helped them up, glanced at Minamino, and said plainly, "We were looking for a place to stay. When the demon attacked, we fought to save ourselves.
"There's no need to thank us, Grandma, ma'am."
"Rōichirō-sama is too modest," Minamino said, smiling to the two women. "Mother, Naoko, you may not know how he toyed with that demon…
"I saw it all. The thing was no match for him. If he hadn't been intent on training his younger brother Tanjiro…"
"That demon wouldn't have lasted a single exchange!"
Roy didn't bother to demur. He finished his tea, handed over the gifts, and—task done—rose to leave.
The women tried to keep them for a meal, but with tear tracks still wet and fresh ones threatening, Roy insisted on refusing, pushed the door open, and stepped into the yard.
They came to see them off; Tanjiro led a tuckered-out Shizuki up to them.
Under their eyes, Roy placed the canteen that had housed Minamino into the grandmother's hands.
"This is Mr. Minamino's resting place. Keep it, Grandma—something to remember him by."
Her hands trembled as she gathered the canteen to her chest; the tears came again despite herself…
The woman steadied her at the waist, swallowing her own grief. Only Shizuki stared, bewildered.
Minamino chuckled softly then and, broad-minded as ever, tried to comfort them: "Don't cry, Mother. Since ancient times, who lives forever? Just think I've gone on ahead to bliss."
As if to prove his words, he could no longer hold his soul together—it began to unravel…
Seeing it, the grandmother and the woman gripped his hands and refused to let go, their sorrow swelling.
Roy watched in silence, then took the chance to ask him via Nen: "Do you want to say goodbye to Shizuki-san?"
Minamino looked at his daughter with love as she ran to her mother and grandma, wiping one's tears, then the other's, murmuring, "Don't cry… don't cry…"
With endless reluctance, he shook his head.
"Rōichirō-sama… I rarely thank anyone. Beyond my mother I've never bowed to a soul…
"Even when bandits stabbed me years ago, I didn't kneel to beg…
"But this time—truly, thank you.
"Thank you for bringing me home—and letting me be content…"
A cold gust; white vapor wavered at the canteen's mouth. Minamino's voice grew fainter, until—
smiling, he cast one last long look at Shizuki…
and broke into motes that drifted to Roy and sank into him.
[Notice: Detected you have purified a soul.]
[By their entrustment—accepting their karma—the other has transferred their final energy to you.]
[Notice: "Life Energy" +1]
[The host may allocate freely, e.g., to the "Physique" stat.]
Roy started. In his coat, the copper coin he'd pried from the snow beside Minamino's basket suddenly felt heavy—so heavy he had to draw a long breath before the weight eased.
So this is the real gift… he murmured, standing in the wind and snow for a quiet moment.
Then he called for Tanjiro, bid farewell to the Minamino family, and turned toward the depths of Mt. Sagiri.
"Goodbye, big brother Tanjiro…"
"Goodbye, Shizuki…"
"Goodbye, Minamino Hirotomo…" Roy did not look back; he finished the words in his heart.
The sun-and-mountain earrings at his ears swayed in the wind and snow and slowly disappeared into the squall.
Whooosh— The wind rose; the snow thickened. The Kamado brothers' footprints were wiped away. The world held only a fenced yard and two grieving women, and one bewildered child, watching them go, standing there for a very, very long time.