XaiJu
Coreal
Coreal

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[HxH] Ch 4: Sun Breathing

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That smile felt both familiar and foreign to Roy.

In the Zoldyck family, he had never once seen Silva smile.

It was as if "smiles" weren't supposed to exist on the face of a cold-blooded assassin.

Not even a sneer or a twisted grin—nothing like that had ever shown up on Silva either.

Sometimes Roy even suspected that Illumi's constant blank expression came from imitating him.

After all, the old ones in the family repeated the same thing over and over—

{"An assassin must never let emotions cloud their judgment."

"Joy, anger, sorrow, grief—none of it should ever show. Only absolute calm lets you complete the job and keeps you from being exposed to danger."}

And maybe that was exactly why Silva and Zeno had decided he didn't have the right talent to be a killer.

They weren't wrong. Compared to being an assassin, Roy firmly believed he should first and foremost be a living, feeling person. A profession should come second, not erase who you are. He had no desire to become an emotionless machine that only knew killing.

That was why he had always disliked Illumi but mostly pitied him.

Illumi was too… formulaic.

The family's "training" had stripped away all the joy a child should have had. He should've been like Nezuko, Takeo, or Shigeru—running up to their brother, chattering away about happy moments, little grievances, or tattling on one another.

Not wearing a dead-fish stare day after day, grinding through lifeless drills like a machine.

Countless thoughts flashed through Roy's mind—until he suddenly realized that little Shigeru had already latched onto his leg.

The boy tilted his head back, eyes shining. "Nii-san—candy~!"

Roy chuckled and quickly pulled a small cloth pouch from his chest, handing him a piece. And that was it—the whole place erupted.

Nezuko wanted one, Takeo wanted one… Roy was swarmed, hands full trying to keep up.

He stroked Nezuko's hair, patted Takeo's back, warned Shigeru not to eat too fast or he'd choke. His shadow in the lamplight stretched across the floor—and in that moment, Tanjiro, watching from behind, finally felt something familiar.

Yes. That was the big brother he remembered.

The one in the woods earlier—that had been some kind of illusion.

"Roy-nii, I want one too!"

Tanjiro scrubbed his face, grinned, and joined the fray. At least he had the sense to take the basket off Roy's back first, lightening the load.

Roy nodded at him, then, after making sure the younger kids were satisfied, walked toward Tanjuro.

"For me?" Tanjuro stared at the candy Roy placed in his palm. For a moment, he was dazed. Then his eyes grew warm. He couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten candy. The memory was so distant, so faded, it went all the way back to when his own father—Tanjiro's grandfather—was still alive.

And now… his own child had grown enough to bring candy to him.

Tanjuro gazed gently at Roy, shook his head, and said, "Your father doesn't like sweets. You eat it."

But Roy didn't pull his hand back. "Father gets one. Grandma gets one. Mother too. Everyone does."

Seeing he couldn't win, Tanjuro finally smiled and unwrapped it, slipping the candy into his mouth. He savored it carefully, then motioned for Roy to help him into his ceremonial robes.

The Hinokami Kagura Ritual—dancing for the Fire God, praying for peace—was a Kamado family tradition passed down for generations.

And that dance, together with the hanafuda earrings Tanjuro wore, etched with the rising, red sun over a mountain… Roy, having read the story, knew exactly what they were.

Those were Yoriichi Tsugikuni's things.

The Sun Breathing's creator—and these earrings were created by his mother for him.

"Our family, ever since our ancestor Sumiyoshi Kamado, has required the eldest son to learn the Hinokami Kagura. Now…"

Tanjuro looked at him, smiling. "…it's your turn, Roy."

With Roy's help, the last cord was tied. The moment it was fastened, gentle Tanjuro stood, and his whole aura shifted.

The red-and-white robes swayed in the snow. The mask painted with the great flame character seemed to come alive.

He beckoned. "Come."

Roy's heart pounded. This was it—the chance he had been waiting for to change his very body.

Hinokami Kagura was the Sun Breathing. And the Sun Breathing, born from Yoriichi's contemplation of the sun, was the ultimate breathing style. A technique that absorbed the sun's power itself, reshaping the body. The root from which every other style—Moon, Stone, Wind, Water—had branched.

Its principle could be summed up simply: sunlight is the source of all life, and so it became the soil that nourished all breathing techniques.

But strength always came with difficulty.

When Yoriichi created the Sun Breathing, he never kept it to himself. He spread it among the Demon Slayer Corps—even teaching it to his own brother, the one who would become Kokushibo.

But no one could withstand the weight of the sun. Not Kokushibo, not any swordsman of that age.

Until now, across centuries, only Tanjiro Kamado had ever truly mastered it in combat.

Roy reached out and grabbed Tanjiro's arm. "You too. Come."

Before Tanjiro even understood, Roy had already stepped into the snowy courtyard beside Tanjuro—and activated Gyo.

Unlike the four core Nen principles—Ten, Zetsu, Ren, Hatsu—Gyo was an advanced application of Ren but easy to master. Just focus aura into the eyes, nothing more.

But with Biscuit Krueger's careful teaching in the anime and his own Zoldyck bloodline, Roy picked it up with ease.

A pale glow spread across his eyes. He fixed them on Tanjuro, every motion burned into his sight frame by frame, like analyzing an animation.

First: Dance.

Then: Clear Blue Sky, Raging Sun, Burning Bones, Setting Sun Transformation, Solar Heat Haze, Beneficent Radiance, Sunflower Thrust…

Tanjuro moved like a spirit of fire, dancing in the drifting snow. Roy followed at his side, mirroring the steps with precision. Beside him, Tanjiro stumbled and struggled to imitate.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Tanjiro was soon out of breath, gasping hard, propping his hands on his knees. His eyes, wide with confusion, darted between his father and his brother.

Why did his frail father suddenly have such stamina?

And how had his big brother gone from awkward, clumsy steps to moving in perfect rhythm with their father?

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