"What are you doing?"
"Hugging a tree."
"Why hug a tree?"
"Hugging a tree."
A thick vein bulged on Illumi's smooth forehead. He simply closed his eyes—out of sight, out of mind.
Midday arrived. Though the sun was somewhat harsh, the Zoldyck brothers—one shaded by tree cover, one sheltered by parasol—weren't hot. The scene just looked somewhat bizarre.
"Young Master Milluki, please slow down." Just then, a chubby child waddled on short legs, chasing a butterfly. Behind him followed a panting butler.
Three or four-year-old children climbing up and down seemed to possess inexhaustible energy. Perhaps having eaten a butterfly last time and finding the taste acceptable, Milluki carefully approached and executed a beautiful lunge forward, crushing the butterfly. He grabbed it and stuffed it in his mouth.
Green juice flowed down the corner of his mouth. Milluki lifted his head with satisfaction, only then discovering a person stuck to the tree and another buried in a hole—both looking somewhat familiar.
Terms like "eldest brother" and "second brother" clearly didn't exist in the Zoldyck family. The fat child climbed up from the ground, squatted by the pit to look at Illumi, then circled the tree to examine Roy. He pulled down his pants, exposed himself, and began urinating.
Roy's brow furrowed. He looked down and glared at him. Milluki looked up, meeting his gaze fearlessly. Thrusting his waist forward, he nearly peed on him.
Seeing this, Illumi's mouth twitched viciously, seemingly gloating. Who would have thought Milluki, hearing the sound, would curiously turn around? Steaming hot child's urine poured straight onto Illumi's head.
This time, without thrusting his waist, Milluki hummed comfortably. Unfortunately, the next second, before he could pull up his pants, someone grabbed his collar and lifted him up, leaving his little thing dangling helplessly in the air.
It was Illumi jumping out from the pit. "Three years old—training can begin. Let's start with electric shock."
Illumi, face darkened, carried Milluki like grabbing a fat cat and walked away. Roy didn't need to look to know what he intended. He decisively abandoned the cypress and switched to hugging a willow tree.
The result of children eating random things was foul-smelling, fiery urine. Just like Illumi now, rage shooting upward.
'Calm down. What's not your business? Don't ask. Adjust breathing.'
Chanting in his heart, "I am the tree... I am the tree." Drowsily, before long, Roy again fell asleep leaning against the trunk.
"Big brother... big brother..." This time, he seemed to hear someone calling him. Opening his eyes, he found himself back in the familiar snow country. Immediately shivering from the cold.
What was called "just escaping fiery hell, falling into icy abyss"—this was it.
Tanjiro held a pot of hot tea, giving him a sip, saying with concern, "It's already dark. Let's go back first."
As warmth entered his stomach, Roy finally felt better. Glancing at the sky—night had fallen completely. Without the snow's reflection, it was pitch black; you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. He'd apparently spent two or three full hours hugging the tree while asleep, achieving nothing except nearly freezing solid.
"Let's go." One deep step, one shallow step. Roy didn't insist, leading Tanjiro toward Sakonji Urokodaki's cabin.
Behind them in the mountain forest, scattered figures followed. Occasionally, cold winds mixed with the winter wind could be heard howling.
"Breathing techniques are difficult precisely in the word 'breathing.' Master immediately had Eiichiro hug trees instead of practicing sword, showing he values his potential highly."
"Isn't that obvious? If you could pass the test in under half an hour like him, Master would value you too."
Shinsuke and Fukuda started bickering again. In life they were brotherly senior and junior disciples. After death, too bored, they could only use this for entertainment.
On a tall birch tree behind them, Sabito accompanied Makomo, silently watching. The Kamado brothers were destined to separate after tonight.
'Father's health isn't good. The family lacks a pillar. Money from selling charcoal, clothes, and candy still needs to be brought home.
Tanjiro held the teapot, following behind Roy. He knew tomorrow morning would be his departure time. He was a sensible child who'd learned to read people from a young age, and he understood that after Roy became a disciple, he had no plans to leave Mount Sagiri anytime soon. So he didn't cling stubbornly or make things difficult.
"The family needs both of us. I'll come back to check on you regularly." Light glowed from the nearby cabin's windows.
Seemingly reading his thoughts, Roy stopped and turned to Tanjiro with a smile. "Tonight I'll write up a training regimen for you to take home and practice. I'll return once a week to check your progress. If you slack off, don't blame me when I tan your hide."
"I won't let you down!" Tanjiro said firmly."
Roy patted his shoulder. "Tell Father I've never forgotten my promise. Ask him and Mother to take utmost care of their health."
"I understand." Tanjiro's eyes warmed as he took a breath. "The family needs me; the world needs you."
Roy froze. "Who told you that?"
He didn't think these were Tanjiro's own words.
"Father said so. He said you have big ambitions and shouldn't stay in the mountains. You should venture into the vast world, see and experience it. He also said he's holding you back, holding back this family. He told you not to be attached—just walk your own path freely."
A cold wind blew, stirring the young man's bangs. Roy touched the sun earrings, standing and gazing toward home, unable to speak for a long time.
There were many things he wanted to say, yet nothing that needed to be said. In the end, all he could say was, "I will."
The next day, he saw Tanjiro off.
"You seem impatient." Sakonji Urokodaki came to Roy's side, watching Tanjiro in the distance shouldering his basket and turning back every few steps to wave at them. He spoke lightly, "A person only has twelve waking hours in a day. Subtract time for eating, drinking, relieving oneself, and sleeping—you're left with less than eight hours for training. No matter how eager you are, you cannot escape this limitation."
Sakonji Urokodaki wasn't wrong. People aren't machines—they need rest, especially sleep, which consumes the bulk of their recovery time. But he couldn't have imagined that Roy's effective day could span twenty-four hours. During the day, Roy could train at home in the Zoldyck estate; at night, through entering deep sleep, his consciousness would arrive at Mount Sagiri to embrace trees.
So Roy replied with quiet confidence, "Even the most certain rules can have exceptions, Master. Perhaps I'll master the mysteries of breathing faster than you expect."
Tanjiro's figure disappeared into the distance. Roy turned to smile at Sakonji Urokodaki, then walked into the misty mountain forest alone.
Sakonji Urokodaki's face beneath the tengu mask couldn't be clearly seen. He silently watched Roy depart. After a long while, he issued a light laugh. "Then this old man will wait and see."