Hey everyone! Sorry for the long break, but I'm back! If you were worried that I'd forgotten about this story, I apologize for the concern. For those who missed my previous update, rest assured — I have no intention of abandoning this story. As a big fan of both Gintama and One Piece, I'm committed to finishing what I started. That said, with school starting up again, my schedule going forward will be a lot more unpredictable, but I'll make sure to keep you posted on my progress.
On another note, I'm excited to share that I've finally completed my Dragon Ball crossover, titled "Passing the Torch." It's my tribute to Akira Toriyama and the incredible impact he's had on me and countless others around the world. I wouldn't normally go so far as to self-promote another one of my stories like this, but I'm particularly proud of this one, and I think many of you would enjoy it. It wouldn't have turned out as well as it did without the tireless effort not just from myself but also from my dedicated beta-readers, whom I'm deeply appreciative of. If you get a chance, it would mean a lot to me for you guys to go read it after this and share your thoughts; I would love to hear them.
With that, let's dive right in!
Beta-read by Pure Red Crane and Izzu.
Lesson 15: 'What Happens at the Party, Stays at the Party' Is a Lie Told by Morning Regrets
Within the dark confines of his private meeting chamber, the reigning Shogun of Wano, Kurozumi Orochi, chuckled gleefully as he sat across from a trio of masked men dressed in white. The last traces of sunlight filtered weakly through the paper screens, casting an eerie orange glow that barely lit the room. Orochi's smirk gleamed under the large, gaudy crown perched atop his oversized head, reflecting the growing darkness that surrounded him.
"Gufufufu...You don't want these borders to be opened up either, do you? After all, you were desperate enough to go to a pirate to arm yourselves against other pirates. Gufufufu...It's all just a big joke, isn't it?!" Orochi sneered at his guests from the World Government. "But now? Now that 'Joker' — Doflamingo — is out of the picture, your veil of anonymity has been torn away. You have no choice but to deal with us directly! You're in a weak position, so I can ask for whatever I damn well please!"
The CP0 agents sat still, their faces betraying nothing, though their silence spoke volumes. They were trained, disciplined, but Orochi could sense their discomfort. His confidence swelled.
Finally, the man in the middle, his face painted white with eerie precision, broke the silence. "Your Majesty… we simply cannot grant that request."
Orochi's grin widened, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement. "Listen closely. Wano is fully self-sufficient. My people live in abundance, don't they? Happier than anywhere else in the world. The only thing I might want is more power. Gufufu…This time, I asked for a battleship, but next time?" His voice dropped, venomous. "Next time, you'll bring me Dr. Vegapunk!"
The painted-faced leader, Guernika, could no longer contain his shock at the outrageous demand. "That's impossible!"
BLAM!
The gunshot cracked through the air, sharp and sudden. Orochi lowered the smoking pistol, his gaze locked on the CP0 agent seated to Guernika's right. The agent's head had snapped back, the bullet striking his mask but failing to penetrate. Slowly, the agent straightened, his expressionless mask unmarred by the attack, as if nothing had happened.
Orochi's lips curled into a cruel sneer. He was miffed he hadn't killed the man, but the point had been made. They were powerless here, in his domain.
"I didn't ask whether it was possible," Orochi hissed, his voice dripping with contempt. "The Celestial Dragons? The Navy? You must know that the country of Wano does not fear these things."
As he spoke, his body began to shift, dark green scales rippling across his skin. His neck stretched, his head morphing into a monstrous, serpentine shape.
"All of you together could not bring our nation to its knees. You know why, of course…"
Seven more heads erupted from his body, twisting and coiling around the CP0 agents, encircling them like a living prison. Orochi's main head loomed above, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight as he took in the sight of the three men unable to act against him, against the power he alone wielded.
"Because Kaido stands behind me!" he roared, his laughter ringing through the chamber, drowning out the silence of his powerless guests.
Orochi's twisted grin stretched wide as he sauntered through the hallway, still reveling in the triumph of his meeting with CP0. He intended to make good on everything he demanded of them and more — but that was a matter for another time. Now? Now was the time to celebrate!
The shoji doors slid open with a soft swish as Orochi stepped forward into the long hallway. He was greeted by a line of attendants on both sides, kneeling low, their heads hanging down in reverence of his very presence. It was exactly the sight he craved.
"Gufufufu! Now, this is how a Shogun should be treated!" Orochi's voice boomed through the hallway as he drank in the display of deference. He loved the power, the reverence — the control.
The lead servant spoke up. "We have everything you asked for, Orochi-sama!"
"Don't be so reserved! Raise your heads, all of you!" His command was met with instant obedience as the attendants lifted their heads, eyes still cast downward, fearful of making direct contact. Orochi reveled in their compliance as he marched past them, his laughter echoing in the corridor as the lead attendant fell into step behind him. "Now, what is tonight's menu?"
"We've procured only the finest chickens from Orochi Farm, my lord! Lightly killed, dipped in boiling water, and—"
"I am in no mood for chicken tonight!" Orochi suddenly declared.
"Yes, sir! They'll be disposed of immediately!" The servant nodded quickly before continuing. "We also have fresh, crisp vegetables—"
"NEVER!" Orochi bellowed, the rejection swift and absolute. His taste for extravagance demanded more.
The servant scrambled to list more offerings. "Premium saury—"
"Saury! Now that I like!" Orochi grinned with greedy delight.
"There's also tuna for sashimi! And our master brewer has his finest sake for us!"
"I'd settle for nothing less!" the Shogun stated, eyes gleaming as something far more lascivious crossed his mind. He leaned in, voice dripping with perverse anticipation. "What about the women?"
"We've gathered the most celebrated geisha, my lord! All waiting for you." The servant gestured to the door leading to the banquet hall. A twisted excitement lit up Orochi's eyes. He surged forward, flinging the doors open to reveal a sea of kneeling geisha.
"Look up so I can see your faces!" Orochi barked. The geisha obeyed instantly, lifting their heads to reveal delicate, painted faces bathed in the soft light of the hall. Orochi's eyes glittered with greedy admiration. "Ahhhh! Such beauty!" he crooned. "Sing! Dance! Amuse me — I'm very pleased with what I see!"
As the other guests began to filter in, taking their seats, Orochi's eyes roved eagerly around the room. And then he saw her — the one he had been waiting for. His breath hitched with excitement. "Komurasaki? Is that you?! How I've longed for this moment!"
Komurasaki raised her head, only turning away slightly as a blush crawled up her fair cheeks. "As have I, my lord..."
"Po-hooo!" Orochi practically squealed with glee as he finally took his seat at the head of the room, raising his massive sake cup high in one hand in a triumphant toast while his other arm wrapped around Komurasaki. The room soon filled with the sounds of stamping feet, clapping fans, and the melodic strumming of shamisens, but all of Orochi's attention was on his perfect feast and his beautiful prize.
"Next week marks the glorious Fire Festival!" Orochi announced, his voice ringing out over the din, drunk with power and sake. "Tonight, let us fight the opening skirmish! Eat! Drink! Enjoy yourselves! This is Wano — don't let anyone fool you into thinking it's heaven! Hahahaha!"
His laughter echoed through the hall as the festivities began in earnest, and Orochi, thoroughly intoxicated by his own self-importance, settled in to enjoy the chaos he thrived on.
Off to the side, away from the boisterous crowd, a certain black-haired geisha observed the raucous party with cool, calculating eyes. Robin's presence remained unnoticed amidst the sea of revelers, and that was exactly how she preferred it. But before she could fully melt into her role, she turned back to the one-eyed samurai who had helped her gain entry.
"Thank you again, Kyubei-dono," she said softly, her voice barely rising above the din. "I'll need to make my rounds soon and attend to the other guests."
Kyubei, seated poised and vigilant, gave a small nod. "I promised Tae-chan and Tsukuyo-san I'd keep an eye on you during this party. If anyone gives you trouble, come to me. I'll make sure it's handled quickly."
A gentle smile tugged at Robin's lips. "Thank you. I'm sure I'll be fine, but I appreciate the offer." With a graceful nod, Robin drifted away, gliding gracefully through the sea of nobles, warriors, and entertainers.
"You think she'll be alright by herself?" Kyubei's light-haired attendant, Ayumu Toujou, spoke up, his calm tone laced with mild concern.
Kyubei didn't turn, his eye still following the geisha's retreating form. "She seems smart enough to avoid the worst of the guests and clever enough to talk her way out if trouble finds her. We'll have to trust she knows what she's doing."
The banquet hall thrummed with energy — raucous laughter, the clinking of cups, and the steady strumming of shamisens, creating a constant undercurrent of noise. But Robin moved through it all like a breeze — unnoticed, yet keenly aware of everything around her. Her eyes flitted from guest to guest, quietly reading the room. Her mission was still clear in her mind: to gather information on Orochi's forces for the upcoming raid. Fortunately for her, blending into the crowd was a skill she had mastered long ago.
A few of the rowdier guests reached out to her, trying to pull her into their revelry. With each advance, she deflected with practiced charm, pouring a drink and offering a polite smile, always excusing herself to attend to other guests. She remained untouchable, like water slipping through their fingers.
"A new face among the usual crowd," an aloof voice mused, his voice smoothly cutting through the din. "It's not every day I meet someone here with such... poise."
Robin turned, her cerulean eyes meeting the sharp, almost lifeless gaze of a tall man with slicked-back, silver-gray hair and a monocle. He sat comfortably, his posture relaxed but commanding. What most caught her attention was the way he was dressed.
"His uniform resembles the Shinsengumi's. However, his is completely white. That must make him…" Robin thought to herself, recognition flickering in her mind; during the weeks she had spent in Wano, she had made it a point to educate herself on a majority of the most important figures within the Orochi Bakufu, allowing her to identify the man sitting before her instantly — a dangerous man, and not one to underestimate. However, she did not let that show on her face as she put on a smile and greeted the man.
"Thank you for your kind words," Robin replied smoothly. "As you say, this is my first time attending such an event in the Shogun's court. It's an honor to debut at a banquet of this magnitude, and I believe it's only natural to conduct myself properly, given the company."
The man nodded slowly, his expression not shifting in the slightest. "Understandable, I suppose. It's impressive, really. You don't let yourself get swept up in the chaos around you. As an elite, I find that to be quite a commendable ability for a non-elite to possess." His voice carried the faintest hint of approval, yet there was no hiding the clear undertone of condescension.
"I thank you for the compliment," Robin continued, bowing her head with just the right amount of humility. "My name is Orobi. I must say, it is quite an honor to meet you, Sasaki Isaburo-dono."
"Oh? So you already know who I am?" The now-named Isaburo raised an eyebrow in mild intrigue.
"Of course," Robin responded with practiced ease. "I made sure to prepare myself for this event by educating myself about the most notable figures in attendance. Your name was one of the first to appear. After all, the feats of the Mimawarigumi and its esteemed commander are known well throughout the Flower Capital."
Isaburo studied her for a moment. "You've done your homework," he mused. "I appreciate that in a guest. But I suppose that's to be expected from someone hoping to keep her head above the tide of drunks and fools in this hall. So few bother to think beyond their next drink or song at these affairs."
Robin smiled demurely, careful to keep the conversation light. "I do try to be prepared, Sasaki-dono. It's what allows me to survive in unfamiliar waters — especially when those waters run deep."
Isaburo leaned forward slightly, interest sparking in his gaze. "An apt metaphor. You speak as though you've had your fair share of experience navigating such dangerous currents."
Robin didn't flinch under his scrutiny, her smile never faltering. "I've learned that unfamiliar situations can be treacherous if you aren't mindful of the undertow. It's best to study the environment closely, anticipate the ripples before they become waves."
A flicker of amusement ghosted across Isaburo's face. "Spoken like someone well-versed in the art of survival. But tell me, Orobi-san, what do you make of this particular environment? Surely, this hall, with its parade of buffoons and half-drunk officials, can't compare to the more...treacherous currents you've clearly faced."
Robin tilted her head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "On the contrary, I find these kinds of waters especially unpredictable. The danger isn't always obvious, but it's certainly present. After all," she glanced around the room, her tone light yet knowing, "not everyone here is as harmless as they appear."
Isaburo's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Indeed. You seem to see more than most."
Robin met his gaze directly. "I've found that seeing beyond the surface is crucial to survival."
"I imagine it is. Yet, you remain remarkably composed for someone surrounded by danger."
Robin allowed her smile to widen just a fraction, a hint of playfulness in her tone. "Composure, like preparation, is a skill one learns after enough experience."
Isaburo leaned back, his amusement growing more visible, though still laced with that same cool detachment. "Experience, preparation, composure. You seem to have all the tools to survive, Orobi-san. I'll be curious to see if you manage to swim your way through unscathed."
"I have a feeling I'll manage," Robin replied with a soft laugh. "But I appreciate your concern."
Isaburo watched her for a moment longer, something resembling faint amusement flickering behind his dead-eyed gaze. The man reached into his coat pocket, pulling out what appeared to be a modified smail, its spiral shell lined with small, neatly arranged buttons. Taking Robin's hands, he placed the smail in her grasp. "Here, take this."
She glanced down at the messaging smail in her palm, its eyes blinking up at her lazily. "Oh? For what purpose?"
"Let's keep in touch," Isaburo replied, his voice still dry but with a hint of something more personal. "It's rare I find someone worth having an intelligent conversation with at these events. I would appreciate it if we could continue this as e-smail buddies."
Robin chuckled softly. "I'm honored, Sasaki-dono, but are you sure such a thing is appropriate?"
"Do not fret. The boundary between elites and non-elites is practically nonexistent through e-smail — even the elite enjoy the luxury of a little informality now and then." His voice dropped, a hint of dry sarcasm slipping through.
"In fact, I used to have another non-elite e-smail buddy a while ago — a rather amusing man with a knack for getting into trouble. Unfortunately, he's recently found himself in more trouble than he could properly handle, so I'm afraid that I had to remove him from my address book. A shame, really."
"I wonder what friend he's referring to?" Robin thought to herself before bowing. "I thank you, Sasaki-dono. Here's hoping to more future conversations."
"Hopefully, indeed," Isaburo replied, his tone teasing but oddly sincere. "Don't be a stranger."
With a nod, Robin took her leave, slipping the smail into her sleeve, its weight barely noticeable. As she moved through the crowd, her mind went to work, piecing together what she had learned. Sasaki Isaburo was no fool — ruthless, arrogant, and far too sharp to underestimate. But he hadn't seen through her yet. Not entirely.
She glanced down at the smail, a small smile playing at her lips. "An 'e-smail buddy,' hmm?"
The party roared on behind her, but Robin was already slipping back into the crowd, her mission far from over.
After another hour of mingling, with the guests increasingly distracted by the revelry, Robin moved with practiced ease toward the far side of the hall. Now was the perfect time. The banquet hall faded behind her as she slipped down a quieter corridor, disappearing into the labyrinth of Orochi Castle.
After wandering the darkened halls for some time, her footsteps soft and deliberate, she finally came across an old room containing many file cabinets and stacks of old scrolls. Robin allowed herself a small smile at the potential treasure trove of information as she quietly slid the door closed behind her, eyes scanning the room.
"What an old and eerie room…" She whispers to herself.
Ping!
Just then, a soft ping broke the silence. Robin froze for a split second, her hand instinctively moving to the modified smail Isaburo had given her. She pulled it out, glancing down at the gastropod as its eyes lit up before spitting out a long strip of paper from its mouth. Gently ripping away the paper, she held it up, reading the message printed in clean, inky letters:
From: Sabu-chan. Sub: Good Times. [Was wondering where you went off to, Orobi-tan (づ •. •). The party is getting uber-exciting o(≧∇≦o)! Please e-smail me.]
Her eyebrow quirked in amusement. "His texting voice is so cute," she thought, bemused at the contrast. She brushed it off and returned to her search, returning to her thoughts.
"A land closed to the outside for centuries...The country that created the Poneglyphs... A stone must be here."
Ping!
Robin pulled out the smail again. Another message appeared:
From: Sabu-chan. Sub: Laughing Out Loud. [My subordinate Himu-bou is doing his signature gag of imitating a Jizo statue! It's crazy funny (≧ᗜ≦)! E-smail me if you want me to save you a seat (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧.]
Ignoring the message, Robin pressed on, her mind focused. She moved toward the walls, feeling for any sign of a hidden mechanism or passage. "Perhaps there's a hidden door somewhere…"
Ping!
This time, Robin couldn't help but close her eyes for a moment. Doing her best to suppress a sigh, Robin pulled out the smail again:
From: Sabu-chan. Sub: Tasty Treats. [My subordinate Nobu-tasu is planning to bring donuts. They're uber-tasty (^~^)! You'd better get back here soon, or there will be none left for you, Orobi-tan (￣﹃￣)! P.S., if you want some, e-smail me.]
Robin stuffed away the smail, crossing her arms to prepare to use her power. She needed to speed up the search.
Ping!
Not even a full five seconds passed before another ping rang through, shattering her concentration.
"Never imagined someone as stoic as him would be so hyper with his messages," Robin muttered as she reluctantly pulled out the smail once more. This time, the message was different, and as she read the words, a cold chill washed over her.
From: Sabu-chan. Sub: Are You Lost? [You really should be careful of where you wander off, Orobi-tan. It's easy to get lost in this castle.]
Robin gasped softly, her eyes widening. He knows. She swiftly tucked the smail away, turning sharply toward the exit, ready to make her escape.
"Searching for something?" A low, calm voice echoed from the shadows behind the screen door. Robin froze, her pulse quickening as the air around her seemed to thicken as multiple figures emerged silently from the shadows.
"Suspicious behavior to have in the presence of ninja," said a large, horned man with wild, light-red hair, his voice booming.
"Illogical!" barked another, a white-haired man wearing a goggled mask and perched atop a massive catfish, his oversized ring ablaze.
Robin gasped, her mind racing. "When did they—?"
"Don't know what a ninja is?" chortled a young blonde girl, her hair adorned with pink flowers.
"She's probably an outsider," a tall woman with purple hair and skull ornaments said with a saccharine smile, plucking her biwa's strings lightly.
The screen door slid open, and a tall, gaunt man with an elongated head and dark sunglasses stepped into the room. His long, pointed beard and eerily long earlobes framed his sinister grimace. "Curiosity can be deadly, geisha." He held up a single finger, his voice dripping with menace. "Let's hear your excuse, and make it good — you only get one."
Robin's breath hitched. The room seemed to close in around her. Every instinct screamed to fight or flee, but she forced herself to remain calm, her mind already working on an escape plan.
"I would suggest you heed Fukurokuju-dono's words well, Orobi-san. Appearances aside, he has a rather short fuse." And there, leaning casually against the wall beside Fukurokuju, was Isaburo. He glanced at her, seemingly unfazed by the situation, his fingers idly typing away on his smail.
Another ping sounded from Robin's pocket.
Isaburo glanced up from his texting. He said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes: I warned you.
Far off in the banquet hall, the faint, melodic strumming of a lone shamisen floated through the air, its beautiful tune contrasting starkly with the tense stand-off Robin now found herself in. She kept her breathing steady, her eyes darting around, quietly assessing the number of enemies surrounding her. Her eyes settled on one particular spot between the shinobi leader and the Mimawarigumi commander. A potential escape route! It was a long shot, but she had to take the chance. The legs in her muscles tensed ever so slightly, just enough so as not to broadcast her intent—
"Don't," came a cold, emotionless voice from behind her, accompanied by an equally cold blade pressed against the side of her throat. "Move even an inch, and I'll cut you up."
Robin turned slowly, beads of sweat sliding down her face. Her eyes met those of a young woman, barely older than Luffy, with blue hair framing her beautiful features. Robin was surprised. The girl was somehow even more undetectable than the ninja, completely catching her off guard. What unnerved Robin most, however, were her eyes — red, empty, and devoid of life. The eyes of a natural-born killer.
They were eyes Robin recognized all too well. After all, it wasn't so long ago that those same eyes greeted her every time she looked in a mirror.
"Ah, Orobi-san," Isaburo's dry voice broke the silence. "Allow me to introduce you to my cute Vice Captain, Imai Nobume. I really wouldn't recommend trying to escape. No matter how fast you are, I guarantee she's faster — and far less patient."
Fukurokuju stepped forward, his expression cold and calculating. "You will answer my question. One chance, and if you speak truthfully, you will be granted the mercy of a quick, painless death. Otherwise, agony will be your only reward. Now, who are you, and what were you doing here?"
Robin's face remained neutral, though her mind raced. Escape wasn't an option, and torture certainly wasn't appealing either. She needed a convincing answer, something to buy her time. After a pause, she finally spoke.
"...Ushimitsu Kozo."
Fukurokuju's eyes widened in surprise, while Isaburo merely raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
Robin continued, her voice calm. "I've been investigating the flow of money through the Flower Capital."
Fukurokuju hummed in contemplation. "A very clever answer — seize her!"
In an instant, everything exploded into action. The ninja raised their shuriken to strike and pin down the geisha while the target in question raised her arms, crouching down to take off in a run. But before anyone could act, a silver flash cut through the air as Nobume's blade sliced cleanly through Robin's body. The top half of her seemingly lifeless form tumbled to the ground.
"Ushimitsu Kozo was spotted in the capital not long ago," one ninja grumbled, clearly disappointed at having been robbed of the chance to act before the Mimawarigumi officer took their prey.
Isaburo sighed, adjusting his monocle. "Nobume, we've discussed this prior — capturing, not killing. That's going to cost you. No donuts for —"
FWAH!
Before he could finish, Robin's bisected body dissolved into a cascade of flower petals, leaving nothing but a trail of blooms in its place, her corpse vanishing from sight to the shock and awe of the room.
"Where is she?!" a wild-maned ninja in a demon mask shouted, scanning the room.
"Is she a shinobi as well?! Or some ghoulish spirit?!" A rounded, yellow-clad ninja wondered.
"Whether it's ninjutsu or sorcery, her real body must be nearby!" a third ninja, also perched on the back of a massive catfish, commanded. "Find her!"
"Well…looks like tonight just got far more interesting." Isaburo mused as he watched the last of the flower petals dissipate into the air.
Robin panted softly, catching her breath as she sprinted through the dim corridors. "That was close... good thing I used a clone," she muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow. Reaching into her sleeve, she pulled out her emergency smail and whispered into it.
"Onami! Sacchan! Shinobu! Bonekichi! My cover's blown. I've spotted at least eleven ninjas and two samurai inside the palace!"
Up in the rafters of the castle, the three kunoichi listened to Robin's distress call.
"What?! Robin got caught?! By thirteen of them?!" Nami whispered in shock.
"It's no surprise, really. The Oniwabanshu are the best there is," Sacchan replied grimly.
Shinobu's eyes narrowed. "We're Orobi's guards. Find her before things get worse!"
Outside, near the castle well, Brook's jaw dropped in surprise as he, too, listened in. "Oh my! How could Orobi, of all people, get busted...?! And just when I finally got a job that isn't gathering food for once!"
Fukurokuju scowled, his frustration barely contained as he stood before his ninja. "Be smart. The Shogun is still enjoying his feast. We can't afford a disruption over one little rat."
"Yes, sir!" the ninjas chorused, and with a swift gesture from Fukurokuju, they scattered in a blur of movement, vanishing into the castle's shadows in pursuit of their quarry.
"Nobume, please go assist them," Isaburo said, his tone unhurried as he continued typing on his smail. "Remember to... keep things tidy."
"Alright," Nobume nodded, disappearing in a blur before reappearing on the rooftop, her silhouette illuminated by the moon as she dashed away into the night.
Isaburo watched her go, then turned back to the shinobi captain. "I'll leave the rest in your capable hands, Fukurokuju-dono. After all, you and your ninjas are far better suited for this task than I am."
"As much as I appreciate your calmness in this situation, you seem a little too unperturbed, Isaburo-dono," Fukurokuju noted grimly.
"Oh, on the contrary, I'm quite upset by this situation — I just lost another decent e-smail buddy, after all." With that, Isaburo tucked his smail into his sleeve and strolled back toward the lively banquet, a dry smirk playing on his lips.
The game of cat and mouse had only just begun.
Kyubei's gaze drifted over the lively banquet hall, her expression calm but her mind elsewhere. The sounds of laughter and clinking cups filled the air, but all she could think about was the absence of one particular guest. It had been some time since the black-haired geisha had slipped away, and though Kyubei's attendants were enjoying the festivities, she couldn't shake her concern.
"Kyubei-dono, do you think it's strange that Orobi-san hasn't come back yet?" one of her attendants, Minamito Sui, asked, glancing around the hall.
"She has been gone for some time," Toujou noted softly. "Should we be concerned?"
Another attendant, Nishino Tsukamu, waved it off with a light chuckle. "Maybe she's just been caught up attending to the other guests. This feast is a big deal, after all."
"Most likely, she had to go take care of one of the other attendees who got too drunk," her fourth attendant, Kitaooji Itsuki, reasoned as he poured an ungodly amount of ketchup over his meal.
Kyubei smiled faintly, trying to appear untroubled. "Perhaps. It's a large palace, and there are many guests to attend to. Let's not worry just yet. We should try to enjoy the banquet while we can."
But in truth, Kyubei couldn't enjoy any of it. Every bite of food, every sip of sake, was tainted by the knowledge of where it had come from. She glanced down at the lavish spread before her, feeling the familiar disgust gnawing at her. She knew all too well how many people had suffered to bring this extravagant feast to Orochi's table. She also knew how most of it would be thrown away in the trash before the night was through.
Farmers driven to poverty, families torn apart, citizens forced to starve — it was all part of the twisted system the current regime had built.
"And yet…" Kyubei thought bitterly, "As the head of my clan, I have no choice but to tolerate it."
As the head of the Yagyuu clan, she had learned to endure such things, to keep her emotions in check. Yet, no matter how much training she underwent or how strong she became, the knowledge of where the wealth of Orochi's regime came from always weighed heavily on her.
"I have a duty. I can't afford to indulge in my personal feelings. I must protect our family," she reminded herself. Her hands clenched slightly by her side, hidden from view.
Kyubei knew this was her reality. She was here to represent her family, her people. She couldn't afford to let her personal disgust show. Her attendants exchanged glances, sensing her unease, but said nothing more. They, too, understood the weight of duty upon their young master.
Just then, movement at the edge of the room caught her eye. Orobi had returned.
Robin moved quietly through the bustling banquet hall, weaving through the crowd of guests with practiced ease. The Oniwabanshu and the Mimawarigumi were no longer actively pursuing her, but she knew they were watching. Her heart still raced from her narrow escape, but her expression remained composed.
"Gwahaha!" Orochi's loud, grating laughter filled the hall, and Robin froze. His eyes had locked onto her. "You there, new girl! Orobi! Where have you been?! Come closer!"
Every guest turned their gaze to her, and the hall suddenly felt much smaller. Robin's heart skipped, but she quickly composed herself. She offered a polite bow, hiding her nerves behind a practiced smile.
"The best place for a leaf to hide is in the forest. If I stay in the middle of all this, I might be able to stay out of sight for just a bit longer." She thought as she swiftly grabbed a mask off a drunken guest, using it to partially conceal her face as she made her way over to the shogun. "I still have work to do."
Kyubei watched Robin approach Orochi, her sharp eyes catching the subtle tension in the other woman's movements.
"Something's happened," Kyubei thought, her instincts alert. She had seen Robin blend seamlessly into the crowd earlier, but this return felt different — there was a tension in the air that hadn't been there before.
Yet, Kyubei knew better than to act on suspicion alone. She had her own position and responsibilities to maintain. For now, she would watch and wait, keeping her promise to Otae in the back of her mind. But beneath her composed exterior, the unease continued to simmer, her disgust with Orochi and everything he stood for quietly boiling over. But the weight of her family's honor, as well as their safety, kept her seated, kept her silent.
"One day," Kyubei promised herself, "this rotten system will fall. And when it does, I will fight for something better."
But for now, she would endure.
Robin approached with measured grace, her movements fluid as she slipped into the spotlight once more. She met Orochi's eager gaze without faltering. She dipped into a soft bow, her voice smooth and laced with charm.
"Forgive me for not being here sooner, my lord... " she said, her tone sweet yet calculated. "There are so many things I wish to speak with you about."
Orochi's grin widened, his eyes lighting up with greedy delight. "Well, aren't you sweet?!" he bellowed, his laughter shaking the room. "I like this very much! Gufufufufu! Are you also trying to win the honor of becoming my official wife?"
Orochi felt a tug on his sleeve. From beside him, Komurasaki's delicate voice drifted over, tinged with practiced hurt. "Why, you are too cruel, my lord…"
Orochi's attention swung back to her, his laughter softening as he gazed longingly at the cute pout donning her perfect face.
"Guhoho! Don't sulk, my dear Komurasaki! My precious, precious girl!" His affection for her was almost over the top, and yet the room remained entranced by their exchange.
"Do you think Shogun Orochi even knows what Komurasaki is really like?" one of the geisha off to the side murmured, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"For beauty like hers, he'll overlook anything," another replied softly with a shrug, knowing it was pointless to ask.
Orochi's focus returned to Robin. The subtle glint in her eyes piqued his curiosity. "Hmm? Is something the matter, Orobi?"
Robin met his gaze, careful to keep her expression demure yet curious, her voice calm. "Oh no, my lord," she said with a slight shake of her head. "But I will admit... I am curious about Onigashima."
Her words caught him off guard, and his brows lifted in surprise. "Oh? Onigashima?" His interest deepened, though he still carried an air of casual arrogance. "Why that island?"
"Ah, what a beauty she is, that Komurasaki!" one guest sighed dreamily, his eyes fixed on her as if she were the only light in the room.
Another guest, a bit more guarded, chimed in with a nervous chuckle, "I won't hide my jealousy, but I admit that secret nature of hers is also pretty terrifying."
"Don't worry, she's not interested in you!" The first guest let out a booming laugh before turning to the pompadoured Yakuza leader. "She came from your pleasure hall, Kyoshiro-oyabun. You must keep a very firm handle on her, I imagine."
Kyoshiro's lips curled into a cool smile as he continued to enjoy his sake. "You seem to have confused a courtesan for a lapdog, my friend. A woman is like a flower. If you are not the clear, pristine water at her roots... How is she to bloom into her true beauty?" His words were measured, sharp beneath the surface.
Suddenly, he turned his gaze over to the Yagyuu heir, sitting a ways away from him. "Would you not agree, Kyubei-dono?" His grin widened, enjoying the way her brow furrowed and her attendants bristled.
"You speak as though all women are delicate flowers that can only thrive under someone's care," Kyubei remarked, her voice even but firm. "But that's not the only way to grow strong. Some of us have our own roots, running deep into the earth — strong enough to find our own water without waiting for a gardener's charity."
Kyoshiro's grin remained unfazed. "Ah, Kyubei-dono, I meant no offense. I simply believe that in this world, we all need someone — something — that helps us flourish, no?"
The guest blinked at the exchange, then broke into laughter once more, hoping to break the sudden tension. "Bwahaha! Well said, well said from both! But Kyoshiro-oyabun, I also heard about how you summoned Kaido's Tobi Roppo to do your bidding! Your retribution is truly fierce!"
"Perhaps a little too fierce for my personal taste," A voice of cool disproval joining the conversation. The Yakuza boss turned, his mirthful gaze meeting the cool detachment of the Mimawarigumi commander. "I hope you understand who will be forced to handle the paperwork tomorrow for the damages caused by their 'investigation.' It'd have been better to rely on your local elite police force instead. But then again, I suppose the theatrical approach suits your kind better."
Kyoshiro's grin widened, the amusement in his eyes growing sharper. He raised his cup in a mock toast, his voice playful but edged. "Ah, Isaburo-dono, always such a stickler for the proper channels. But the truth is, the world you live in and the one I live in… they're not quite the same, are they? You've got your rules, and I've got mine. I apologize if my methods offend someone of your elite standing."
Isaburo didn't miss a beat, his tone never shifting from its measured calm. "Indeed. But I do wonder—do your rules include trampling over the people of our fair city for your 'family matters'? Or was that just a necessary inconvenience?"
Kyoshiro's eyes flashed momentarily, though his expression remained relaxed. "Trampling? My dear Isaburo-dono, when a family member is harmed, it's only natural to defend them. Whether by local hands or not." He turned back to his sake as if the matter were already decided. "But perhaps the methods are a bit too theatrical for your liking."
At this point, Kyubei joined in, her gaze fixed on Kyoshiro. "I must say, I'm inclined to agree with Isaburo-dono on this. Calling in the Tobi Roppo — outsiders — to deal with matters in the capital? Seems excessive, even for you, Kyoshiro. We have ways of dealing with such issues here without relying on forces from outside Wano."
Kyoshiro shrugged, his smile now a little more guarded. "Once you've shared ritual cups, even the lowest flunky becomes family. And when your own comes back to you beaten black and blue, what kind of man would sit idly by and wait for someone else to solve it?"
A murmur of approval rose from one of the guests nearby. "Well I, for one, am impressed by your Yakuza ways, Kyoshiro-oyabun."
Kyoshiro smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's simply how we operate."
Orochi, seated at the head of the room, had been following the conversation with increasing interest. He slammed his cup down, his laughter booming as he suddenly sat up and made his way over to the group.
"You're absolutely right, Kyoshiro!" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the chatter of the room. "One's enemies must be crushed with nothing less than overwhelming force! To ensure they can never strike back again!" His eyes gleamed with mad intensity. "Even if they might be...ghosts!"
A hush fell over the nearby guests as Orochi's mood shifted. His expression darkened, paranoia creeping into his voice. "They might be lowly flunkies, but this is no trifling matter... No one in the capital would dare attack the Kyoshiro family. It can only mean one thing — outsiders have entered our fair city!"
A hush fell over the banquet hall as the mood shifted dramatically. The other guests exchanged uneasy glances as Orochi's paranoia settled over them like a thick fog.
Isaburo gave a slow nod. "Outsiders, you say? Yes, perhaps you're right, Orochi-sama. After all, it's rare for the capital to see such bold moves. Unless something — or someone — has stirred the pot."
Orochi's eyes gleamed with suspicion, his fingers twitching as he imagined enemies lurking in every shadow. "Yes… yes! There are forces beyond our borders, forces that wish to topple this great city! But we will not be so easily overcome! We will crush them all, no matter where they hide!"
Kyoshiro, watching the rising paranoia with interest, raised his cup once more, though his eyes were sharper and darker now. "To crushing all enemies," he said smoothly, his tone now carrying an undercurrent of something far more dangerous.
Orochi stood tall before his guests, his voice cutting through the banquet's lively murmur like a blade. "Now that we're all here, listen up, and listen good! I'll only say this once!" he bellowed, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity. "This year marks 20 years since the death of Kozuki Oden — the year of vengeance, according to his wife, Toki! Oden's will still lives!"
A ripple of disinterest passed through the crowd, the excitement of the feast dulled by his familiar rant. One guest leaned back with a sigh. "Here he goes again…"
Robin's eyes narrowed slightly behind her mask, though she remained silent and out of sight of Isaburo, quietly absorbing the scene from the sidelines.
Orochi's voice swelled with growing fervor. His fists clenched as he leaned forward. "Do you remember how Oden's Akazaya Nine, those men with their red scabbards, were so unfathomably strong?!"
Another guest chuckled dismissively to himself. "Yeah, and they're all dead now…"
"And their leader, Kin'emon!" Orochi's voice cracked with excitement. "He is a most brilliant man!"
"Was, you mean," another guest thought. "I can barely remember him now."
Orochi's grin widened, unaware of the dismissive thoughts surrounding him. "They have returned to Wano 20 years later! They've been making their secret preparations, all to remove my head!"
The guests shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances. One whispered under his breath, "He's killed everyone connected to Oden...and he's still terrified of the Kozuki?!"
The tension in the room spiked as Orochi slammed his cup down on the table, rattling the plates and silencing the whispers. "Kaido may have dealt with most of them... but in Kuri, Urashima and Jack's men were attacked! Here in the capital, a rogue ronin cut down the magistrate! And now, a mere soba cook dared attack the Yakuza! Surely, these acts could have been under Kin'emon's orders, wouldn't you agree?!"
The guests smirked behind their cups, unable to take the cowardly shogun's ramblings seriously. However, they feared his wrath too much to voice their thoughts out loud — save for one.
"I've never believed in ghosts, myself," Isaburo said, his tone matter-of-fact. The guests turned, startled by his audacity.
Orochi frowned, clearly not pleased to have someone disagree with him. "Oh? So you doubt my words, Isaburo?"
Isaburo raised a placating hand, his expression unchanging, despite the clear threat in his lord's tone. "Not at all, Orochi-sama. I merely offer my personal stance as a man of logic. As an elite, I deal with facts. And the facts we know for certain, as you have wisely pointed out yourself, is that rebel activity has increased significantly as of late, all aligned with the timing of Toki's prophecy. Dismissing this as mere coincidence would indeed be foolish."
He paused, letting his words settle and allowing ripples of thought to spread through the room. "In fact, it would not be unreasonable to think that others — such as the cunning Joui leader, Katsura Kotarou — would take advantage of the prophecy for their own gains and stir up unrest."
The room, once filled with smirks and whispers, quieted as Isaburo's measured words sank in. The logic of it struck a chord, and the guests soon found themselves nodding in agreement.
"That..would make a lot of sense..." one guest conceded.
"Putting the Shogun's own paranoia aside, there certainly would be plenty of Joui rebels out there who'd jump at the chance to seize any symbol of hope they could find," his friend whispered in agreement.
"Indeed," another warrior nodded along silently. "And for a leader like 'Runaway Kotarou', it's certainly more believable that someone like him would use it as a rallying point to try something big...not that it would make much of a difference..."
Isaburo's gaze remained fixed on Orochi, his voice unwavering.
"However," Isaburo continued, "At the end of the day, whether men like Katsura are using the legend to their advantage or if these truly are specters from the past, it hardly matters. The Mimawarigumi stands as the Shogun's personal elite sword. If called upon, we will cut down any threat to your rule swiftly and without hesitation, Orochi-sama."
Orochi's scowl eased into a pleased grin, his paranoia momentarily soothed by Isaburo's display of loyalty. But before he could respond, Kyoshiro's gleeful chuckle cut through the air.
"Isaburo-dono, you're as serious as ever!" He grinned widely, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Personally, I'd love it if the Akazaya Nine returned as ghosts! Imagine the thrill of testing my blade against Foxfire Kin'emon himself! It would give me the perfect opportunity to show my full strength, Orochi-sama."
After a pang of silence, Orochi's laughter followed, booming through the hall as his face split in a manic, almost-relieved grin. "Gufufufu! It's good to have you on my side, Kyoshiro! Isaburo!"
But then his voice dropped once more, turning darker. "But mark my words...it is the Kozuki orchestrating these events from the shadows. That day, I saw Oden die with my own eyes, but his son, Momonosuke…the boy's body was never found! The blood of the Kozuki clan still runs through Wano, and they will come for me... and for Kaido!"
A wave of incredulity spread through the guests, who struggled to contain their disbelief as Isaburo's logic was instantly swept aside by Orochi's fevered delusions.
"Pfft! What a daydreamer!" one guest muttered, trying to stifle his laugh. "He's got Kaido on his side—who could possibly defeat that monster?!"
Another guest, nervously eyeing Orochi, barely contained himself. "I want to laugh, but... I don't want to die for it!"
Amid the murmur of stifled and uncomfortable chuckles, Robin's sharp gaze flicked across the room, analyzing every detail. "Orochi takes the prophecy at face value," she thought, watching the fear and paranoia deepen in his eyes. "He truly believes in it. But his followers... of course, they don't. They dismiss it as a joke, just like the rumors of rebellion."
Her train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a burst of laughter.
"Ahahahaha!"
The laughter rang out, high and unmistakable, cutting through the uneasy silence like a knife. The guests stiffened, eyes wide as they looked around in panic.
"Who—?!"
"Do you want to die?!" one guest hissed, horrified.
Orochi's expression darkened, his eyes bulging as his gaze swept the hall.
"HUH?!"
And with that, we end the chapter with the introduction of Isaburo and the Mimawarigumi. What's that? You didn't remember the Mimawarigumi were in the Wano Country arc? Don't worry; no one else did either. With Isaburo at the helm, I promise they'll be far more prominent this time around.
Fortunately, I already have the next chapter halfway complete, so I should have that out by next week. Though after that, I may have another impromtu hiatus coming up - like I said, school is gonna keep me busy. See you next week!