"Don't always make Dad take the initiative, you silly kid."
Silva's hand moved slowly up and down Roy's back, drawing him into his arms. His tall frame wrapped completely around him, like he could swallow Roy whole.
His tone held a hint of reproach as he looked down at him.
"Adults care about face. You're always all stiff and unsmiling, never give me a step down. Even if your dad wants to get close to you, he can't find a chance."
As Silva spoke, his chest felt broad and warm like a wall. For the first time, Roy realized he had no idea where to put his two free hands.
He had never seen this version of Silva before. He'd never heard him string together such a long sentence either. In this moment, Silva looked like an ordinary father from an ordinary family—no assassin aura, no coldness. The contrast was so sharp it was almost hard to process.
"…Mm."
After a long time, Roy lowered his head and managed to squeeze out a single syllable.
He slowly understood—this might be what his father really looked like on the inside.
Because he believed this was a dream, absolutely safe, he could finally show the "true heart" he never let anyone see during the day.
Maybe he thinks this is his own dream, Roy thought. So he can do anything he wants here. Even if he dreams of me, the real me will never know.
But the one standing here now was Roy's actual consciousness, carried here via his Nen ability, the Door of Cognition—not some fake, dream-Silva conjured out of wishful thinking.
When the false becomes real, the real can look fake; when nothing becomes something, what's left is hard to name.
In short: the "fake Roy" Silva thought he was hugging… was actually the real Roy.
…
"To close the distance with your child, try these six things…"
"First: schedule exclusive parent–child time and give them your full attention."
"Second: use physical touch to communicate affection."
"Third: give precise praise to build confidence… Fourth: respect personality differences… Fifth…"
"Sixth: listen to their emotions and offer understanding and support…"
In Silva's private unconscious domain, he noticed Roy still seemed a bit stiff. He glanced at the parenting guide he'd been reading and, remembering the "tips" from earlier, tightened his arms and refused to let go—"learning by doing"—and treated Roy like a test subject.
In this strange, awkward atmosphere he couldn't really fight against, Roy endured a brief stretch of "father–son bonding time."
After a while, he felt the dream start to destabilize, hairline cracks opening around the edges of the scene. He became aware that his own Nen output was reaching its limit; wandering this far through dreams was about all he could manage. His body turned translucent, then hazy, dissolving like mist as he left Silva's unconscious field.
When he opened his eyes again—
The corner clock gave a soft dong.
At four in the morning, in his own room in the Zoldyck family's Kukuroo Mountain estate, Roy slipped out of the dream and woke up.
Tick… tick… Time slid by, second by second.
Roy lay quietly on the soft mattress, hands folded over his stomach, staring at the ceiling for a while. For once, he let himself linger in bed.
When the lingering "unreality" of the dream finally faded, he rolled off the bed as usual and headed out for his run down the mountain.
Passing the pool, he saw Gotoh, exactly like yesterday, leaning against a rock, fiddling with the "Infinite" handgun as he practiced Water Breathing in his own way. Roy's mind automatically superimposed the version of him from last night's dream, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. His stride lightened, his figure drifting along the mountain path until he reached the main road and, after Gotoh, he came upon a white-haired teenager.
"Good morning, young master."
Kastro bowed neatly. His cheeks were still flushed; compared to the pigheaded swelling Gotoh had given him a few days ago, he clearly looked much more spirited.
Obviously, last night's dream—where he'd savagely thrashed Gotoh—had left quite an impression.
"Mm. Keep it up." Roy verged past him, wind at his heels, and added over his shoulder: "In a few days, I'll have a job for you."
Kastro blinked, then quickly responded, "Yes, sir!"
He straightened up, watching Roy's back fade into the distance, his hand clenching into a fist.
I'll start proving I've surpassed Gotoh by finishing tasks for the young master…
He suddenly shouted:
"Young master, I will absolutely not disappoint you!"
A mountain breeze stirred, shaking loose a few leaves to tumble slowly down.
Roy lifted a hand without turning, waving once in acknowledgment. A few moments later, he vanished from Kastro's line of sight and arrived at the front gate, where he spotted "bald old man" Zebro, coaching a blonde girl on her stance and how to drive power into the Trial Gate.
"You've got the form right, now you just need strength. Eat more when you go back, keep at it—you'll get there soon enough…"
Zebro was smiling as he talked, his words slipping neatly into Roy's ears on the wind.
Roy thought suddenly of Kurapika.
Gotoh had told him this girl was Kurapika's older sister, the younger sibling he'd been separated from when they were very young. Now he understood why she pushed herself so hard—she was desperately trying to change the fate of the Kurta clan.
Having "one of the Seven Most Beautiful Colors in the World" was like a child carrying gold through a crowded marketplace. Their Scarlet Eyes would always draw greed. Disaster was only a matter of time.
And by his reckoning, their clan's massacre was only a few years away.
Tap… tap… His steps approached. Zebro glanced up and tugged Kurapika's sister back, both of them bowing low.
"Young master."
Roy didn't break stride. He made a quick circuit in front of the gate, gave them both a calm once-over, then pivoted on his heel and headed back up the path.
He passed once more through the corridors and by the dim little room.
There he finally stopped, listening to the soft snoring inside. He recalled how there were still two dream tunnels left unexplored last night—one surely belonged to his mother, Kikyo; the other, almost certainly, to his great-grandfather, Maha.
Zeno was out on a job and hadn't come home; it couldn't be him. Roy straightened and peered in through the window. The old man was under a blanket, sleeping soundly.
Roy took in a slow breath and tiptoed away.
Back in his room, he shrugged off his outer robe and headed straight for the bathroom.
Time to add points.
Last night, he'd killed Akaza, plus Enmu and Rui, burning through his Life Energy again—only to grind it back up to 190. Add the one point of physique that Sun Breathing fed him daily…
Roy braced himself against the wall, drew a deep breath, and mentally confirmed the expenditure. The panel flashed:
[Life Energy cleared. Physique +191.]
[Current Physique: 438.4 → 629.4 (Note: 1 = average human)]
[Manifest Nen: C– 3950/100000 → 17854/100000]
[Potential Nen: C 48651/100000 → 68741/100000]
A muffled groan slipped from his throat. His fingers gouged deep grooves into the wall. It took a long time before the wave of agony finally ebbed, leaving behind the raw, surging sensation of power roaring out from every inch of muscle and bone.
Crack… crack… crack…
He rolled his shoulders; every joint popped in a chain, like a string of firecrackers.
He raised his head and studied his reflection in the mirror. His height and build hadn't changed as dramatically as the numbers suggested, but the power in his frame was real. It showed in details—the thickened lines of muscle, the way he'd just reached for the shower handle and—
"Clack."
—snapped it clean off.
From outside:
"Young master, what was that?"
Gotoh had arrived right on time with the breakfast cart. Hearing the noise, he called through the door.
The metal handle came sailing out through the crack, and Gotoh caught it with both hands.
"The handle broke. Have someone replace it later," Roy said, stepping out in a bath towel. He grabbed the steaming beef burger from the tray and took a huge bite; juice exploded across his tongue.
"Yes," Gotoh nodded, slipping the handle into his pocket. As he served Roy his breakfast, he reported, "The ingredients you asked the kitchen to buy are already on order. Everything should be ready by this afternoon."
The old man had been clamoring for stir-fry; Roy planned to use the chance to reset his own stomach after all that killing and power-up pain.
He reached into a drawer and pulled out the "strategy notebook" Silva had given him, opening it to study while he ate. Between bites, he said casually,
"Tell Kastro to pack. In a few days he's heading to Meteor City."
"To do what?" Gotoh asked.
"Alms," Roy answered.
"Will he be able to handle it?"
"Do you think he can handle it?" Roy looked up at him.
Gotoh frowned, choosing his words carefully.
"He's learned Ten and Zetsu, but he hasn't mastered Ren or Hatsu yet. If young master plans to send him alone to a place like that…"
He pushed his glasses up and said honestly:
"He can handle small fry, but if he runs into seasoned Nen users, it'll go badly."
"You're protecting him?" Roy smiled faintly.
Gotoh shook his head.
"No. I'm just telling the truth. He can die—that's his business. But he can't screw up your mission. That isn't acceptable."
Roy chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and washed it down with a mouthful of milk.
"If you care that much, then we'll send another person with him."
"Who?" Gotoh asked.
"Me."
Roy grinned. "Book two tickets to Meteor City. A week from now, I want my feet on that soil."
"Two…?"
Gotoh blanched and looked at him nervously. "Young master… you're not planning to leave me behind, are you?"
That Kastro brat had only just arrived and he already got to travel with the young master? If he'd known, Gotoh thought darkly, he would've killed the kid back in Heaven's Arena.
His thoughts spun out, his mood a mess—until a warm hand thumped him between the shoulder blades.
"Don't overthink it," Roy said, eyes amused. He gave him a quick wink.
"I'm not going. The other me is."
Gotoh: "…"
He stared, brain tying itself in knots.
Roy let him stew. When the time came, the issue of "the other me" would explain itself.
Leaving Gotoh to clear the dishes, Roy stepped out and headed toward the training hall.
The rising sun threw gold and rose across the sky, a soft warmth brushing the still-chilly air. It soaked through the windows, brightening the worn stone corridor.
Roy walked with his hands in his pockets, glancing through the glass. Outside, Silva was supporting Kikyo as they strolled the garden after breakfast.
Roy's steps slowed. He thought of the man in last night's dream—the one who hugged him and smiled—and his gaze lingered.
Silva felt it immediately and looked back, expression cool.
"Do you need something?"
"No."
All that talk about "face," "making the first move," "giving me a way down"… So I just don't need face, huh?
Roy turned and walked away. His figure slipped into the shadow of the hall and vanished without taking so much as a shred of dawn with him.
Silva frowned.
Kikyo clung to his arm, leaning more than half her weight onto him.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"…Nothing."
He watched Roy leave, then turned back and guided Kikyo on their slow loop around the garden.
Daydreaming by day, dreaming by night. When you strip reality away, "daydream" is all it really is.
Tap… tap… Footsteps faded into the distance.
Thinking about the sun and the dream, Roy's understanding of the "dimensions" of Nen deepened just a bit more.
Lost in thought, he came to the training hall.
The door creaked open.
Two pink pigtails swayed into view.
Tsubone, broad-shouldered and taller than many men, held the shock baton in both hands. Her voice was low and rough:
"The master says, from now on, I'm in charge of your electric training."
Roy nodded.
"Got it."
He shrugged off his shirt without fuss, revealing a body of taut, sculpted muscle.
Tap, tap…
Another set of footsteps followed him in.
Tsubone glanced past Roy and gave Illumi a nod—then stepped forward and pressed the baton to Roy's chest.
"Forgive me, young master."
"Bzzzzzzt!"
Electric arcs crawled and burst.
The voltage blew past the limit Luke had been able to manage and shot straight to eight million volts.
Last time, with a Physique of 343, Roy had lasted thirty seconds under Silva's hand. This time, he braced his legs, clenched his teeth, and let the electric snakes slither all over his body.
He didn't make a sound.
Tsubone silently counted in her head. Roy silently counted in his.
Twenty-five… thirty… thirty-five… forty… fifty-five… Sixty seconds. Seventy. Ninety.
By the time a minute and thirty-seven seconds had passed, her eyes were wide with disbelief.
Yesterday, Silva had told her that Roy's "record" was only thirty seconds.
But here he was, standing under the same voltage for more than triple that. Either Silva had lied, or Roy had been faking being knocked out before. Otherwise, there was no way to explain such a leap in endurance overnight.
"Bang!"
At one minute thirty-seven seconds, the current finally blew.
Roy exhaled a column of black smoke, stumbled a few steps, and dropped to the floor.
Illumi, who'd been leaning against the wall watching, lifted a hand as if to help—but before he could move, Tsubone swung the baton again.
One crackling touch and he stiffened and went down faster than Roy had.
"Apologies, young master…"
Tsubone retracted the baton, hoisted Illumi up onto her shoulder like a sack of rice, then glanced at Roy.
"Do you need a hand?"
"No."
"Goldie."
"Gaaoh~"
The golden crow flapped out from Roy's crown, body swelling in an instant. With one long beak, it levered him up onto its back and waddled to the window, flapping hard to haul them both out.
Tsubone watched them go, kicked her shovel up from the ground, and followed at a more sedate pace. In the garden, she dug another pit and buried Illumi, leaving just his head sticking out.
By the time the brothers came around again, the sun was high.
"Fwshhh…"
A light breeze brushed the fresh earth.
Illumi blinked awake, only his head above ground. He turned and saw Roy lying on his back in the grass, hands folded over his stomach, eyes closed and soaking in the sun.
"You've gotten stronger," Illumi said.
"Mm."
"I'm very happy about that."
"Mm."
"Even if Mom gives birth to a silver-haired kid, I'll still firmly stand on your side. Don't worry…"
"Illumi," Roy cut him off. "Are you male or female?"
Illumi paused.
"What does that mean?"
Roy opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him.
"I asked if you're a man or a woman. Is that such a hard question?"
"…Not hard," Illumi answered seriously. He stared straight back with those empty black eyes. "I'm a man."
Roy let out a quiet sigh of relief and was just about to say, "Good. Then stop having those kinds of dreams."
But, of course…
Illumi's tone shifted, suddenly dead earnest.
"Of course, if nii-san needs it, I can become a woman for you too."
Roy: "…"
The corner of his mouth twitched violently. He pointed straight at the nearby willow.
"Hang yourself up. Right now."
~~~
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