Sakonji Urokodaki nodded, saying nothing more.
He simply stated, "Today let's eat something good."
Going to the cellar, he brought out a wild boar leg. Wild boar, after smoking, was easy to preserve. Sliced into pieces, it made excellent sukiyaki. Unfortunately, conditions in the mountains were harsh. The wooden house had no wok; otherwise, smoked meat stir-fried with wild vegetables dug from the mountains would be even better.
The sukiyaki bubbled on the brazier. Master and disciple sat facing each other, quietly eating, surrounded by a circle of hungry ghosts.
Makomo crouched right beside Sakonji Urokodaki, watching him leisurely enjoy the food bite by bite. Saliva pooled in her mouth, threatening to spill over.
"Smells so good, Sabito. Quick, think of something. I want to eat."
'Knowing it's delicious, you don't need to mention it every time.' Sabito helplessly spread his hands. Without physical form, they truly couldn't help.
"Master plays favorites," Shinsuke said, leaning against the beam, dangling his legs, and glancing jealously at Roy. "That Eiichiro guy requests leave and just gets it. Master not only agreed but also specially made him something good to eat. Is he afraid if Eiichiro goes home, he won't come back?"
Where would there be an "insufferably arrogant father"? When that honest child Tanjiro was still here, he nearly revealed all their family secrets. It was because Tanjuro was weak and sickly that the Kamado brothers came out to sell charcoal for a living. Now Eiichiro uses the excuse of battling his father? Was he afraid his father wouldn't die fast enough?
"You're just jealous." Fukuda made no effort to hide his disdain for Shinsuke, mocking him. "Can't someone go home to visit? He's still so young. Missing home is normal."
"I didn't say he can't return. Just feel his excuse is too absurd. Even speaking directly, nobody would say anything. After all, who doesn't have times when they miss home?"
"I have no home," Sabito suddenly said. "This is my home."
"Me too," Makomo added. "I was adopted."
"Me too."
"And me."
"Same here."
Roy took a bite of rice, silently listening. From the corner of his eye, he glanced across the table. Sakonji Urokodaki focused intently on eating, as if unconcerned about anything, with eyes only on food.
Only after finishing the meal did he brew tea, passing Roy a cup and asking, "Are you confident?"
Wisps of steam rose from the teacup. Roy's expression was grave, rubbing the warm ceramic. He didn't speak immediately, nor give a definite answer. After all, no test was one hundred percent certain, especially with his father personally administering it.
"It seems your honorable father is quite formidable." Seeing Roy's silence, Sakonji Urokodaki sighed deeply. "That's true. There are no geniuses in the world—only formidable fathers can raise formidable sons."
"Master, aren't you curious?" Roy didn't comment on this statement. Sipping tea, he looked meaningfully at Sakonji Urokodaki. "You should have heard about my family situation from Tanjiro. Aren't you worried that if I slip up, I might kill my seriously ill father?"
"Will you?"
"No."
"Then what's there to be curious about?" Sakonji Urokodaki stood up, walking to the window with hands behind his back, gazing at the boundless snow country. "People can lie. Swords cannot. Your training sword has already told me everything you said is true. Including the battle, and your insufferably arrogant father."
The old Water Pillar turned back, looking at Roy with hope. "Stand tall, Eiichiro! Even if it's your father, treat him as an enemy and defeat him fairly!"
"I will!" Roy raised his teacup, draining it in one gulp.
***
The next day, carrying that expectation, he turned over and got up from bed.
The grandfather clock chimed 4 AM. The young man gently touched Yukigakure beside his pillow, put on his tank top and shorts, and began his morning run.
4:20—finished running. 4:25—stretching. 4:30—shower. Then sitting at the dining table, unhurriedly eating breakfast.
"Knowing the young master has his test today, the kitchen specially made strawberry cake, wishing the young master success."
A sandwich, salad, and milk, along with a slice of strawberry cake. "Gotoh, you're all very thoughtful."
"Young master is too kind. It's all what we should do." Gotoh placed his right hand over his chest in salute.
Roy nodded, accepting their sentiment completely. He ate every bite, finishing everything on his plate. After wiping his mouth, he grabbed Yukigakure and walked out into the morning light.
Today was a bright sunny day. Morning glow followed the young man, stretching his shadow very long. Passing that dim yellow room, Roy stopped to bow.
The old man lay in his rocking chair listening to cartoons, seemingly unaware. After Roy left, the old man turned over, facing the wall corner, huffing. "Why are you standing there? Come massage my back."
Shadows writhed, revealing Zeno's figure. Sixty or seventy years old, yet still treated like a grandson, summoned at will.
Zeno showed no displeasure on his face, walking behind Maha to massage his back. "I heard from the kitchen that Grandfather didn't want breakfast, so I came to check."
"Won't die." The old man said irritably. "You raised a fine son. Middle of the night, not sleeping—what, demolishing the house? His wife squealing louder than a pig. Might as well breed with pigs!"
A crude Enhancement-type martial artist. Zeno suddenly recalled Grandfather's evaluation of Netero abducting Father years ago. The description seemed to fit Grandfather himself.
He had no choice but to defend Silva. "You know, with no results all along, Silva and Kikyo are anxious too."
"Anxious, yet he hides out? This old man's neither deaf nor blind. I say he's just impotent." Maha tapped his clasped hands, speaking slowly. "Better hand the family head position to Roy. That boy is diligent and pragmatic and looks stronger than you two."
'That Roy boy cooked a few dishes, and you're this smitten, old man?'
"Grandfather jests. Let's wait until he passes Silva's test first." Zeno glanced sideways out the window. One corridor away, the young man gripped Yukigakure, his sun and mountain earrings.
Ten meters from the training room, he stopped.
Killing intent materialized, nearly distorting the air itself. The young man tightened his grip on the sword, raising his eyes to sense what awaited him beyond the door.
Within the training room, the man sat brazenly on a stone pier, one hand playing with a soft whip, the other supporting his chin, looking over leisurely. His Ren surged wildly with overwhelming power, nearly sweeping away Illumi, who stood against the wall with arms crossed.
Illumi brandished his hand blade, fiercely stabbing it into the wall. His fingers dug in forcefully, stopping his momentum.
Looking again, the door swung wide open, revealing Roy's calm face.