"How many days now?"
"Eight days."
"That's still early. Back then, it took me half a year to find the feeling."
Sabito stood on a birch tree's branch with Makomo beside him, silently watching below. Roy embraced the large tree, doing somewhat better than before—he'd persisted for two hours without falling asleep.
"Half a year is already very fast." Makomo crouched on the branch, boredly drawing circles. "Master always praised me as clever, saying I was the fastest to comprehend breathing after you. But even I took nearly a year."
Sabito smiled. "Your spiritual talent lies elsewhere." He gazed at the endless mist with a nostalgic tone. "The fastest was Giyu. He truly had talent—he learned breathing in three months and trained three years to cleave stone. Unfortunately, he was just a bit timid back then."
"What about him?" Makomo stared with bright eyes at Roy below. "I think he's more amazing than any of us. Perhaps he can break Senior Brother Giyu's record."
Sabito stroked his chin thoughtfully. Would he? That Eiichiro fellow was truly incomprehensible.
After two and a half hours, Roy finally couldn't persist any longer, falling asleep against the tree trunk. The familiar sensation of falling came. The young man turned over, climbed from bed, and returned once again to Kukuroo Mountain.
He efficiently dressed, ran, ate breakfast, received his electric therapy, and went to embrace that willow tree in the garden. Illumi still awakened in the pit. Having woken later than Roy for consecutive days, he seemed numb to it, not even glancing at Roy once. He only waited for the numbness in his body to pass before heading down the mountain.
The grudge of his eighty-win streak being terminated had reached settlement time. Illumi would personally dig out that person's heart to celebrate opening his aura nodes. Of course, compared to a certain detestable guy nearby, that Emitter-type Nen user was just a small appetizer. If he could truly dig out Roy's heart, Illumi felt he'd tremble with excitement.
"Restrain your malicious intent. You're disgusting me." Roy hugged the tree with closed eyes, as if asleep.
Illumi hung his head, shoulders shaking as he suppressed low moans. He spread his arms, his long black hair dancing wildly, startling a flock of sparrows roosting in the willow tree.
"Heh heh, really? You'd better pray you never have a weak moment. When you do, I'll chop off your head to make a hug pillow and sleep with it every night."
Illumi stared with those hollow, dead-fish eyes and stalked off. Roy kindly called after him, "Slightly to the left—don't step in Milluki's shit."
Unfortunately, the warning came too late. Illumi awkwardly lifted his right foot, his expression twisted in disgust. Who could he blame? He'd personally terminated Milluki's happy childhood, custom-designing hellish training for him. So he really couldn't blame Milluki for defecating beside his pit in revenge.
Several crows circled overhead against dark clouds, dropping tail feathers like omens. Roy could almost hear Illumi's internal screaming. Estimating that Milluki's next few days would be quite miserable, Roy simply finished his morning tree-hugging session and headed to the kitchen.
Still unable to find that feeling of "merging with trees," Roy decided to cook two dishes himself to clear his mind. He instructed Gotoh to prepare ingredients in advance, then took up his spatula.
"Steamed fish" and "stir-fried beef" were today's self-prepared lunch. Unlike previously driving the cooks out, this time Roy allowed them to observe. When in good spirits, he even explained some key points.
About half an hour later, the two home-cooked dishes were brought to the table. Gotoh stood aside, attending to his meal. But Roy didn't immediately start eating. Instead, he had Gotoh add another set of utensils across from him.
Soon enough, as a familiar "old wind" blew past, Roy respectfully called out, "Great-great-grandfather." The next second, he immediately started eating, clearly learning from last time's lesson of getting nothing.
The old man's eyes widened. This unfilial grandson didn't care about anything else. His chopsticks moved like wind and thunder, swift beyond compare. Even so, Maha still managed to eat several more beef slices and half a fish head than Roy.
After the meal, the old man looked satisfied. Rarely, he didn't leave immediately but had Gotoh make coffee to aid digestion. While picking his teeth leisurely with a toothpick, he asked, "How is it, good grandson? Is tree-hugging fun?"
"Great-great-grandfather, it's not—" Roy's face filled with exasperation at the crude phrasing.
"What's the difference?" Maha glanced at him sideways. "This old man's total time hugging your great-great-grandmother doesn't add up to your tree-hugging time. What, planning to marry a tree as your wife?"
Roy remained silent, head down.
Maha received the coffee Gotoh passed over, took a sip, and, ignoring him, said leisurely, "People are people, trees are trees. If you mistake people for trees, people won't agree. If you mistake trees for people, trees also disagree. How can a person become a tree?"
Roy listened attentively.
Maha finished his coffee and walked to the window with hands behind his back, looking through the sunlight at the willow tree in the garden. He spoke with reminiscence. "So people needn't treat trees as people, and trees don't understand how to be human. If you force it, you're demanding the impossible. People become confused, and trees become dissatisfied."
"Then what should I do?"
"Don't you already have the answer in your heart?" The old man turned back with a smile. "Everything is just going with nature's flow."
Going with nature's flow. Roy chewed on these words. Great-great-grandfather meant he shouldn't deny his position as a "person" to forcibly think like a "tree"? But then, if people can't become trees, how could he enter the tree and merge with nature?
Roy pondered briefly before raising his head, full of doubts. When he looked again, Maha's figure had disappeared from the window. Only a corner of curtain lifted by wind proved he'd been there, along with two empty plates on the dining table.
"Young master, please have some coffee." Gotoh thoughtfully brought him a cup.
Roy drank it along with his belly full of thoughts. Leaving the kitchen and returning to the garden, he sat down with his back against the willow tree. The willow bark was somewhat uncomfortable. Thousands of hanging strands brushed by wind tickled his neck. The young man adjusted his sun and mountain earrings, this time not overthinking.
Forget about "trees," "people," Zetsu, and Breathing. He simply relaxed and took an afternoon nap leaning against the willow.
With cicada calls and gentle breeze as companions, Roy's eyelids drooped drowsily. In his hazy state, he saw a vision. In it, a man led a pregnant woman into the garden, personally dug a pit, planted a small tree, and happily told his wife, "This signifies new life."
Several years later, the small tree had grown. The man led a child over, teaching him how to water the tree.
More years passed. The child grew up, insisting on going to the Dark Continent. The result: the man dragged him to the tree for a beating.