From the sky, delicate, diamond-shaped, crystal-clear snowflakes drifted gently downward.
Kawanishi reached out his hand, catching a frail, tiny snowflake in his palm. The warmth of his skin instantly melted it, leaving behind only a cold sensation.
"Memories from my previous life are slowly awakening. Thinking back, I've already been in this world for sixteen years."
"I vaguely remember the planet I used to live on — there were steel birds that could fly through the skies, aircraft carriers that sailed the oceans. People relied on a power called 'technology' to do the impossible — travel the skies and plumb the depths."
"But this world... it's like early modern Japan. Technological development is uneven. Most areas are still as fragile as a newborn. Life is hard for most people."
"Still, where exactly in the world am I now?"
Kawanishi sighed. Over the past sixteen years, he had tried asking those around him, but hadn't gotten any useful answers. The country he once called home in the East had left behind no trace.
The customs and traditions here reminded him of Japan, but many small details were different.
For instance, people had all kinds of natural hair and eye colors. Kawanishi himself had red hair and crimson eyes.
At first, he thought he had traveled through time. Now, it seemed he had crossed into an entirely different world. The one he once knew was no longer there.
"Big brother Kawanishi, what are you thinking about?"
A warm, clear voice — like a winter bonfire, capable of comforting the soul — sounded beside him.
He turned his head. It was a young boy with deep red hair, crimson eyes, a scar on his forehead, and an earring hanging from his left ear.
This was his younger brother, Kamado Tanjirō. Kawanishi had a matching earring on his right ear.
Their father, Kamado Tanjurō, had given each of them one — a family heirloom meant to be passed down.
Kawanishi and Tanjirō looked about 80% alike, though Tanjirō had a rounder, cuter face and eyes.
Kawanishi was a head taller, with a more angular face and sharper, narrower eyes — when angry, they could cut like knives.
In this world, his name was Kamado Kawanishi. But the memories of his former world still surfaced occasionally.
In his past life, his name had been Ryuugi— though that name was starting to fade.
The past is like the wind. Now, he is Kamado Kawanishi.
"Tanjirō, I was just thinking... This winter is so cold, we should be able to sell more charcoal. Maybe we can buy new clothes for you and the others."
Their family lived in the mountains. Their father, Kamado Tanjurō, had died young from illness. Now, their household consisted of their mother, Kie, three younger brothers — Takeo, Shigeru, and Rokuta — and two younger sisters, Nezuko and Hanako.
As the eldest, Kawanishi had taken on the family's burdens early. With their mother's health also poor, he inherited his father's work and began selling charcoal to support the family.
Tanjirō, too, had been very mature for his age and had started helping him sell charcoal down in the village years ago.
Tanjirō smiled brightly. "You're so kind, big brother. But today, you should rest. I'll go alone."
"You've been so tired lately, haven't you? Don't push yourself. Let me do it."
This brother of his was truly extraordinary.
Lately, Kawanishi had been having nightmares — terrible ones. He couldn't remember the details, only the overwhelming sorrow, pain, and an endless sense of despair and rage.
Even awake, a sense of doom hung over him — but he couldn't pinpoint its source.
He'd kept this hidden from his family.
He wanted only to bring good news home, not worries. He didn't want them to worry.
But somehow, this little brother had seen right through him. Then again, Kawanishi had always found Tanjirō remarkable.
"Tanjirō, how did you know?"
Tanjirō scratched his head sheepishly. "I smelled it. I could smell the unease on you. I figured you must be tired."
Smelled his unease?
Tanjirō's sense of smell had always been astonishing — far beyond even the best hunting dogs.
He could even smell people's emotions. According to him, people gave off different scents depending on their feelings, and it was easy to distinguish them.
Easy? That's definitely not normal.
Kawanishi patted Tanjirō's head.
"Yeah, big brother's just a little tired. Tanjirō, I'll count on you this time."
He had no intention of sharing that dream. Tanjirō, while gentle on the surface, was serious and stubborn deep down.
He didn't want to worry him — and besides, he really wasn't feeling well lately.
So, he would leave this trip down the mountain to Tanjirō.
Tanjirō had gone down alone before when Kawanishi was sick. He was smart, nimble, and had rarely gotten hurt.
Kawanishi trusted him completely.
Tanjirō strapped a bamboo basket to his back, filled it with charcoal. Despite his small frame, he bore the weight of dozens of kilos as he prepared to descend the mountain.
In this world, though living conditions were poor, people seemed physically quite strong.
"Tanjirō, be careful, okay? We'll be waiting for you to come back."
"Tanjirō, take care on the road."
The younger siblings waved, and their mother, Kie, also offered her blessing.
Kawanishi stepped forward and patted each child's head.
"Nezuko, Hanako, Takeo, Shigeru, Rokuta — don't worry too much. Tanjirō is amazing."
Tanjirō blushed at the praise.
"You're the amazing one, big brother. Don't worry — I'll be back soon. You all go back inside; it's cold and windy. Don't catch a cold."
With that, he descended the mountain, leaving a trail of footprints in the snow, slowly buried by falling flakes.
The younger children had already gone back inside. They were too young and frail to withstand the cold for long.
Their mother, Kie, coughed as she kept her eyes fixed on Tanjirō's fading figure, unwilling to go inside.
Kawanishi gently pulled her back. "Mother, let's go in. Tanjirō has gone down alone many times before. He'll be fine."
Kie smiled warmly. "Yes, you and Tanjirō are both so mature and dependable — not like children at all. I shouldn't worry…"
"But how can a mother not worry about her children? You've all suffered so much with me. I wasn't able to give you an easy life."
In his past life, Kawanishi had lived alone, hardened by the cold indifference of the world. His temperament had become twisted.
Fate had slammed every door and window shut on him — and even sicced a vicious dog on him.
He had to use his bloodied hands to tame that dog and force the doors open again.
Those bitter memories never left him. He feared returning to that life.
But in this life — with his mother Kie, his late father Tanjurō, and his adorable siblings — Kawanishi had finally felt the warmth of family.
He clung to that warmth, unwilling to let it go.
He wanted nothing more than to stay with them forever.
Worried that Kie might fall ill, Kawanishi helped her back inside.
"No, Mother — being your son is the happiest thing in my life."
"You really know how to talk, don't you?"
"Haha, but I only talk like that with you."
With just a few light-hearted exchanges, Kawanishi helped Kie back into their little wooden cabin, standing firm in the wind and snow.
He took one last glance at the path Tanjirō had taken down the mountain.
"Tanjirō, please come back safe — and soon."
For some reason, as Tanjirō disappeared from view, the sense of foreboding in Kawanishi's heart only grew stronger…
[End of Chapter]