Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yamato yawned as he woke in the large cavernous tent, curled up in his futon and under the heavy worn kakebuton. He scuffled around the space, finding his clothing by touch, dressed and stumbled out the tent flaps into the early morning gloom of the war camp.

His tent was sandwiched between his father’s and King’s. Sasaki was behind their father’s.  Yamato wanted to go to his brother, but he could hear his father’s snores, and the slow creaks of leather that meant King was awake and dressing. He could wait for King to leave his own and then shadow him to the galley. Yamato would be protected by his wings but that meant waiting, and Yamato was hungry now.  Sasaki would be sleeping. Father was sleeping.

Yamato steeled himself and nodded. He could get breakfast by himself. He knew the way, and it was early still and most of them didn’t wake till late. They might be hung over.  

He dodged men as they returned from watch shifts, pressed against the heavy canvas of the tents as they passed. The creaks of their leather armor and their chatter an early warning. Yamato gave the soldiers a wide berth. Sometimes they were mean. Sometimes they talked about him, and his ears would burn red as they gossiped about his mistakes. His father respected strength and Yamato had not been living up to his expectations. And the men knew!  

His sandals sounded quietly on the hard packed ground as he snuck into the back of a large tent, sneaking past the cooking staff preparing rice and slicing up vegetables. It smelled so good in here. Fish was being seared and there were small clinks of dishes hitting each other as the men were served their rations. Yamato could get in the line but that meant being by the soldiers and no guarantees he would keep his food.

He swallowed back drool, trying to focus beyond his hunger as he approached his older brother’s retainers. Salem and Thea had commandeered a small corner, chatting away easily with the domestic staff as Nel peeled and sliced various vegetable set before her. He clambered up on the wooden bench, staring at the fresh baked loaves of bread stuffed with cheese set to cool on a rack. There was glistening sweet sliced peaches, and fresh porridge dusted with spice and sweeten with milk and honey. Pickles were sliced thin by skilled hands and miso souped poured into bowls.

Yamato dozed slightly in the warmth of the oven, daydreaming of the taste of food and secure in the safety of the group as they flitter about. No one was going to touch him around Salem, or Thea, or Nel and Eliza! Who were new! He pouted, seeing that Eliza was missing. Where was she?

 Aged hands deposited a small bowl of miso soup in front of him and a small loaf of stuffed bread breaking Yamato from his thoughts. “Hey, kiddo. When did you get here?” Salem questioned, reaching over to tousle his hair. “Hope we weren’t too boring.”

He eagerly pulled the soup close, drinking straight from the small stone container. Warmth filled him, the miso stock mixed with tofu, leek and mushrooms. The bread was fresh and crunchy stuffed with savory feta and cream cheese and flavored with dill and parsley lightly coated in olive oil. Yamato moaned, licking his fingers clean of any trace of flavor. “Where Eliza?” He questioned, before narrowing in on the mound of lightly dusted sweet pastries. “Can I have one?” He asked, pointing to them.

“Eliza is working, and those are special,” Salem replied, tapping his mouth for a moment. “But I’m sure I can find you something else.” He wiped his hands clean on a rag before stepping away for a moment.

Special? Yamato mouthed eyeing the round pastries as they were carefully wrapped and packaged away in a box by Thea, and sighed. He pouted slightly but perked up as Salem returned with a small container. “Are those for me?” He questioned, holding out his hand.

“Mmh, I know they aren’t the same but hopefully they will do.” Salem set the small container down on the table.

“Onigiri!” Yamato shouted, gleefully grabbing the carefully sculpted rice and seaweed. He chomped down, chewing a too large mouthful and savoring the mix of rice and pickle plum. The umeboshi hidden inside was bracingly bitter on his tongue, sour and fleshy as he chewed, waking him up fully.

Yamato scooped up the other two, wrapped in leaves and stuffed them in the sleeves of his kimono for later.  

“Ready to work, kiddo?” Thea questioned, loading up the tray. “Nel! You’re on breakfast duty, finish what you are chopping and grab your stuff,” she called, nudging the other’s boot.

“Yes,” Yamato replied, eagerly accepting the peach slice that had fallen on the table, stuffing it in his mouth. It was so sweet. He held his hands to his chest gleeful, best part of the day.

Thea chuckled, offering the kid a wonky slice of pickled daikon. “Alright then, hand inspection and then we’ll get this to Sasaki.”  

He nodded stuffing the pickle in his mouth before rapidly scrubbing his hands on his pants before presenting them up to her for inspection.  Yamato ran his tongue over his teeth, chasing any trace of food as Thea cleaned his hands with a damp cloth.

“There we go.” Thea smiled at him. “Now think you can handle this small one while Nell gets the heavier one?” Thea asked, and beamed at his nod. “Great. Keep close to Nel. I got to get some things sorted out for your brother.”

“’kay,” Yamato said, taking the covered tray carefully. He beamed up at Nel as she stood. She was so tall. She was from the long leg people, and had tattoos spiraling down her legs and they were cool. Nel was an adult now according to her but not to Salem or Thea. Yamato wasn’t too sure how that work, something about being a teenager. It was weird and the reason his brother occasional acted weird.

“Well, okay brat, let’s get going,” she said, taking the other tray and started to walk off.

“Coming!” Yamato yelled, hurrying after her. He trotted in her shadow attempting to match her long stride with his much smaller legs and keep out of sight. The sun would start to rise soon and more people would be awake and moving.

~                                                                                                       ~                                                                             ~

Nel kept an eye on Kaidou’s youngest as the kid scurried in her steps, carefully balancing the tray and lip caught between his teeth as he focused on his job. It was really cute on how serious Yamato was when it came to helping out his elder brother. His hair was mainly clean, if a bit tangled and his clothes had collected a bit of dirt but they had been on the road and camping for the last week. Yamato looked decent; a bit hungry but the kid was always hungry. He could give Sasaki a run for his money on that department.

Nel had seen worse looking kids. She had been one of them, and her lower back still phantom itched from where the slave brand had been, covered up now in a swirling geometric rose design that curved around her hips and pelvis. Yamato reminded her of the extra alpha sons of the tribal leaders, not the favorite or the heir and scrambling to validate themselves. Somewhat forgotten unless they did everything they were told or did something spectacular to get themselves noticed.

She waited for him to catch up to her shadow as they approached the command cluster. Nel could taste the power enveloping the area, Kaidou’s scent lazily spread out and weighing the air down like a content predator. She could taste a staticity sort of tingle that dance behind her teeth combine with ozone and threat of a ship wrecker storm. A faint trace of leather and powder that was King’s presence, his dynamic hidden mostly by his layers. Yamato own pup scent was over powered and Sasaki was non-existent.

Sasaki’s tent had been set up behind Kaidou’s with a covered awning sheltering the entrance. She ducked slightly inside the entrance, wiping her boots on the rough straw mats set inside and toed them off. Lightly stained carpets had been laid out on the floor. Heavy canvas had been erected to separate the tent into rooms. The inside of the main entrance had been draped with light airy gauze in various shades of pastel green, blues, and yellow to give it a more lived in feel. Round long thin pillows filled with charcoal weighed down the gauze and absorb smells, leaving the room sterile. Dim light came from stone bowls set out with water and floating candles in various spots, elevate by barrels and crates. A trunk had been set out as a table, covered in papers and over turned crates as seats.

Nel set her tray down on an empty barrel, careful to gather up the papers and the bottle of ink. “Set it here, I’ll go wake up your brother.”

Yamato walked over to set the tray down on the cleaned surface, clambering up on a crate and swinging his feet as he waited. “’k,” he said and Nel couldn’t resist leaning over to ruffle up his hair. “Stay here,” she said and rung the bell hanging at the partition, sliding into the bedroom.

“Sir? Your breakfast is here, are you awake?” Nel called, sliding the canvas shut. The bedroom smelt of mature pup, a rich smooth, warm smell that only omega dynamic pups ever achieved shortly before they presented. Cotton had been strung from the supports to form the walls surrounding the start of a nest. Sasaki was burrowed in the fabric, just the tuff of his tail and the tips of his horns peeking out. “You do need to get up if you want your plan to work.”

“Mrrpppfh,” Sasaki muttered, slowly shifting, the mounds of fabric and blankets shifting as he sat up, the juban falling around his shoulders. “I’m up, I’m up.”

“Your brother is in the other room with your breakfast, Thea is taking the last of the provisions to the stables and making sure the gelding is ready for travel. Did you finish your revisions?” Nel asked, falling at a relaxed at attention, hands behind her back, and feet slightly apart.

“Yeah, Yams is here?” Sasaki questioned, sleepily sliding out of the nest. “Do you remember your orders?”

“Observe and distract as needed. King is awake, your father is still sleeping,” Nel reported. “Salem has a feeling that something big will go on in the camp in an hour or so that should provide all the distraction you need to get enough distance to keep out of your father’s range.”

“Nice,” Sasaki muttered, “Thank you, that will be all Nel. Get out of my tent.”

Nel laughed, slipping out of the room and grinned at Yamato as he looked up, giving a jaunty wave. “Your brother will be up in a moment.”

~                                                                                          ~                                                                                          ~

Sasaki yawned, pulling his sleepwear closed and ran a hand through his hair. Okay, he had a plan and he needed to get up and actually do the plan while the moon was still high enough in the sky to lend his light. He could do this, even if just burrowing in the pile and sleeping for a few more hours sounded really, really nice. Yams was in the other room and that was somewhat of a problem.

He hadn’t considered what to do with Yamato’s constant visitations and now just eating his breakfast and sneaking out was going to be an issue. Nope, going to deal with this later. Sasaki stood up and shuffled out of his bedroom, blinking blurry at Yamato. “Hey, morning, Yams,” he greeted, walking heavily to the trunk and flopped down on a crate.

“Did you bring me breakfast?” He questioned and smiled as Yamato nodded. “Thanks, did you eat breakfast?” Sasaki opened the trays, setting down the stone dishes. His stomach growled ravenously at the savory smells rising up.

“Some, I got some soup, and bread, and an onigiri,” Yamato said, staring at the food. Sasaki watched him swallow back drool. Yams was a bottomless pit. Sasaki really wasn’t sure where his sibling put it, because he didn’t seem to put on any weight.  

“Yeah? Still hungry?” There was more here than he could eat. Sasaki picked up the small dish of pickled vegetables, chopsticks dipping into to the mounds and picked up a few slices. He bit down, waking up slightly at the bracing taste. Mmhm.

“Could I?”

Sasaki took a few more bites before offering the remainer to Yamato. “Sure, they always pack more than I can realistically eat.” He picked up the bowl of miso soup, draining the warm savory broth before spooning out the pieces of tofu and vegetables. It was rich, salty, and just a hint of sweetness. He wiped his mouth, setting the bowl to the side. Hmm.

He picked up the bowl of porridge transferring some of the peach slices into the bowl and sliced the loaf of bread into thirds. Sasaki loaded the bowl of fruit and a third of the bread onto the small tray and placed it in front of his sibling.

“There you go.” Sasaki dried his spoon before starting into the porridge. He savored the blend of spices and the perfectly texture of the cooked grained. Fuck, this was so good. They had provided tea, perfectly sweeten with honey. Sasaki sipped it, relaxed and content, the mug warming his hands. He glanced at Yamato, watching him scoop up a slice of fruit with his hands and cram it into his mouth. Gross. Ughh, his hands were going to be soo sticky.

Sasaki shook his head, casually tearing the bread up into pieces. The cheese was steaming, the bread was fluffy and filled with herbs. The name escaped him, a southern sea delicacy that Salem enjoyed making. He bit into it, and sighed at the absolute crispness of the crust. He missed this and they had managed to replicate it almost perfectly. He finished his breakfast, leaving the rest of Yamato to devour.

“Slow down and actually taste your food,” he scolded, washing his hands in one of the bowls and dried them off. Sasaki checked beneath his nails, making sure they were clean before heading into his sleeping quarters.

The montsuki kimono was spread out on its rack, the black silk spotless, the embroider beast pirate jolly roger’s bright and stunningly white against the dark fabric. The lining had been done in a lime green, about the same shade as his hair to add a bit more personality to the formal kimono. His hakama were the traditional black and white stripes, hung up with the simple black haori also decorated with the beast pirates’ jolly rogers to keep them from getting wrinkled. Sasaki dug in the trunk by his nest, picking out a nagajuban. It was simple white cotton, full length and soft. He hummed, digging a bit further to find the white tabi. Formal for some reason met a lot of black.

“What you doing?”

Sasaki hummed as he sat on his bed, feet against the chest as he pulled on the tabi socks, fastening the kohaze clips to fasten them at the heel. “Trying to get dress…I hope you didn’t bring food in here.” Sasaki looked up and sighed, watching his little brother attempt to hide a stone bowl behind his back. “I can still see the bowl, Yams.” He didn’t have time for this…deal with it later. He had to finish getting dress.

He swapped the simple short juban for the full length nagajuban, tying the white under robe in place. He smoothed it, making sure the shape was right before removing his montsuki from the rack. Sasaki pulled it on, paying close attention to how he crossed the panels, and tied the koshi-himo in place. Alright, nothing was wrinkled, the length was perfect, and left to right.  He picked up the kaku obi, the fabric white with black arrow pattern and wrapped it before tying it in a basic knot. Most of it would be covered with his hakama and haori so he didn’t have to get overly complex with it.

“Mhmm,” Yamato shook his head, shoving his hand in the container, fisting out peaches soaked in honey and a dusting of cinnamon and cramming them in his mouth as fast as he could manage. As if he could solve the issue by making them disappear.

“Slow down before you choke, Yams. It not like I’m going to want those back,” Sasaki scolded, nose wrinkling is disgust. “And you can’t just solve things by eating them.” No manners, what so ever. Maybe he should make Yams sit in on some of his etiquette lessons. He picked up the hakama, stepping into them and pulling them up into place.

Yamato paused, mid chew, cheeks bulging with half chewed fruit. “You sure?” He mumbled, collapsing cross legged next to his brother, pulling the bowl close to him, scrapping it over the rug.  He scrubbed his hand across his chin, wiping away juice.

“Ugh, try not to spill that on the rug, Yams. I can just hear how gross that was. Just, just don’t,” Sasaki exclaimed, focus as he passed the ties back and forth before working on the complex jūnoji knot. “How do you have no fucken manners?” He muttered into his chest.  

“Sorry,” Yamato pouted, swallowing loudly and smacked his lips noisily. “Here! I want you to have this, as an apology.”

“One moment,” Sasaki muttered, finishing the knot and offered his hand to Yamato. “What did you…..”he trailed off, mane fluffing in shock as squishy sticky fruit smooshed into his palm. No…he shuddered, his fur on end as bits of peach dripped from his fingers. “What the absolute hell…fuck,” he moaned, looking down at his hand and his beaming little sibling. Who was still smearing the fruit into his skin. “Holy sea and skies, no.” He pulled back, holding his hand far away from his body.

“Yams, Yams? Why?” He whined, using his clean hand to pull the sleeve back before shoving his hand into a water basin. Ugh. It was sooo sticky. He fumbled a satchel of herbs and soap slices into the basin and squeezed it, running his fingers over it to get a good lather.

“So, you didn’t want it?” Yamato questioned, pressing against his legs, peering up. His little brother was so cute and so sticky and ugh, he really needed to wash those hands. 

“Not at all. You are a filthy and sticky mess,” Sasaki sighed, grabbing a towel to dry off. “Do I need to clean your hands or can you do it yourself?”

Yamato grinned and slurped over his fingers before shoving his hands back up. “I cleaned them.”

“You certainly did not, your sticky brat.” Sasaki pushed his sleeves back before swooping down, capturing Yamato and tucked him under his arm. “You are getting clean,” he said, taking the youngers hand and dunking them in the basin, scrubbing him.

“Do you want everyone to know I’m feeding you?” He grumbled, making sure the lather was reaching past his wrists and swished them in the water. Sasaki let his wrist go and dampened a towel, vigorously scrubbing at Yamato’s hands just to make sure he got all traces of the fruit. “Take a bath urchin.”

“Nooooo, Sasakiiii,” Yamato whined, flailing at the unexpected cleaning. “I had one yesterday?” He whined, as the cloth scrubbed down his neck and over his ears.

“Gross.” He proclaimed, pinning his squirming sibling till he was sure the younger was relatively clean. “Guess that is good enough. You better get going before dad starts wondering where you got off to.” Sasaki grabbed a dry towel, capturing a hand to dry off one damp hand, and then the other. He tossed it over Yamato’s head. “Finish drying off.”

“Fine,” Yamato grumbled, drying off his face and neck.

Sasaki rubbed over the top of Yamato’s head, before checking himself carefully in the mirror to make sure he didn’t have sticky finger prints on his clean formal clothes. He tidied his sleeves, smoothing out the shiny black silk. It seemed to have survived his little brother.

 “Where are you going?”

“Mmh?” He reached to pull the haori jacket from the rack, the beast pirates symbol gleaming in white threads as a substitute for family crests. “Who said I’m going anywhere?”

“I’m not dumb,” Yamato rolled his eyes, pushing the towel away. “You hate formal clothes. You only wear them when dad makes you. And he’s too busy getting drunk and fighting.”

“Pffhs, not wrong there.” Sasaki attached the haori himo, looping the chain latches in the loops sewn in the jacket’s lapels. “But it’s none of your business. You’re not invited.”

“And you aren’t supposed to be doing what you are doing.” Yamato puffed his cheeks out. “I can always tell.”

“Are, are you actually attempting to blackmail me?” Sasaki question, torn in being impressed and absolutely annoyed. “You know that just going to be worst for you then for me? Right?”

“I don’t care,” Yamato declared, stomping a foot. “I want to know. I can scream, really, really loud.”

“Why are you like this,” Sasaki muttered, talking to the tent ceiling. “Do you want to come? You got to keep quiet though.”

“Really? I can come?”

“Yeah… I didn’t plan for it, but it probably be better if you actually came with then stayed here. Specially with dad’s latest fixation.” He paused, looking over Yamato. “Guess you are clean enough.” He grabbed the bone mask with the massive flowing mane dad insisted they wore outside. Or around strangers, or any time really.

“I don’t have my mask though,” Yamato said.

“That will be fine… we don’t need it.” Sasaki said, leaving it behind. The oni masks were associated with dad’s court and he might be more anonymous without it. He bared his teeth in the mirror, fingers running over the towering curve of ivory that made up his horns. Anonymity was sort of a lost cause. He turned to the various small jars lining the crate set below the mirror. “Want to help me with something else?”

“Sure,” Yamato hurried over, looking at the fine little glass bottles. “What are they?”

“Scent Neutralizers and oils,” Sasaki carefully removed strips of thin paper, setting them in place between a series of pegs set into a board. “It keeps people from knowing my secondary gender.” Well lack of it. He picked up the tiny bottle of cypress oil, passing it to Yamato. “I usually use this mixed with a bit of sage and citrus with a distilled white vinegar base.” The vinegar covered the pup smell leaving the custom blend behind letting him masquerade as a beta.

“It’s weird,” Yamato grumbled, handing the tiny bottle back and settled down to watch his brother mix up the oils and distilled vinegar carefully in a small bowl. “I don’t know why you keep being weird. It isn’t your scent.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Not all of us get to be alphas.”

“I don’t get it,” Yamato whined. “It not that great being an alpha.” He pouted, poking at one of the small bottles. “I thought dad would be proud. He wanted me to be an alpha. And I am.”  

“There are a lot more benefits to being an alpha, then not.” Sasaki carefully dripped some of the mixture on the thin sheets of paper, trapping the scent into them before sliding them into the collar and hems of the sleeves of his kimono and haori.

“It is still weird.”

“You’ll understand when you are older.” Sasaki picked up his messenger bag, tucked his personal baby denden in the collar of his kimono, and ruffled Yamato hair before heading for the door. “Come along, I’ll leave you behind if you can’t keep up.”

“That isn’t fair!” Yamato called, racing after. He hurried shoved his feet in his geta, as Sasaki took his time with his zori. “You can’t leave me behind.”

“You sure about that?” Sasaki asked, opening the tent and motioned Yamato to go out first before following. “So, one last thing we need and it should be still dark enough for us to do so.” Sasaki said, checking the position of the sun. It has just started to rise and the moon was still luminous in the dark sky. They maybe had thirty minutes before it set. Plenty of time to raid a tent for some booze.

“I thought we were avoiding dad,” Yamato hissed.

“We are, he’s still sleeping now shush, I need to grab something.” Sasaki said, pushing aside the tent flap. Small hands gripped his clothes, tugging on them. “Sasakiii.”

“Yamatooo,” he called back, gently setting a hand on the other’s brow. “It’ll be fine. Just wait here for a bit.” Sasaki slipped inside, carefully walking to his dad’s secret stash of good sake. He slowly opened the chest, looking through the collection and pulled out one, tucking it down his haori’s sleeve and then loaded his arms with more. Might as well help himself while he was here.

He glanced over to the dark shape of his sleeping father, sprawled out on his futon. He was making small noises, not awake but getting close. It was time to go. He stepped out with his ill-gotten gains. “Time to go… ahh,” He trailed off, looking at his sulking brother and then up at the tall figure of King behind him. “Hi, King.”

“Sasaki, once again I find you with your father’s personal property,” King said, clearly disappointed and tired despite the layers of leather blocking his mouth.  “And you involved your younger brother into your mischief. I am disappointed in you.”

Sasaki rolled his eyes. “It is not as if dad needs to binge drink,” he drawled, bottles clinking as he secured them closer to his body. “And it not like you haven’t been an accomplice before in hiding dad’s booze stash,” he pointed out.

“Give them here and go.”

Sasaki sighed, pushing the bottles into King’s hand and grabbed Yamato’s hand. “Bye, King.” He called and kept moving. “Pushy self-righteous bastard.” He grumbled, leading Yamato swiftly towards the back of the camp where the horses had been corralled.

“Sorry, I was going to warn you but…”

“King’s a dick,” Sasaki replied and slipped the bottle from his sleeve, holding it up. “But I got what I needed.”

 “Why did you need that?” Yamato questioned, running to keep up.  

“It’s going to be a gift.”

“Gross.”

“Hey, some people like stuff like this. And I think I’m going to need it?” Sasaki said, unsure as he looked over the bottle of sake before tucking it in his bag, besides the stack of papers. “I’m rather sure it going to be needed. Anyways, it polite to bring gifts when you go to people’s houses.” He motioned Yamato to stay where he was before climbing in the corral.

He clicked his tongue, walking among the horses till he found the bay gelding, already tacked and geared up. “Hey, boy,” Sasaki gently pet his nose, gathering up the reins. “Were you good for Thea?” He checked the bands, making sure they were secure before opening the saddle bags making sure his supplies had been packed. Everything looked to be in place. He added his messenger bag, secured the flaps and started to lead the bay out.

“We’re going riding?” Yamato questioned, excited as he stood on his tip toes. “You never take me riding.”

“We are going riding,” Sasaki said, looping the reins on the post before tossing Yamato up onto the saddle. “Scoot up, yeah that is it. See the horn? You can grip that.” Sasaki slid up behind him, placing his feet into the stirrups. “If you need to sleep, let me know,” he said pulling the rein’s up and turned the bay, gently urging him into a walk. 

“Shouldn’t we go fast?”

“Nah, that will just attract attention,” he said, glancing up at the moon. The light was pale, but it should be enough to take a short cut. Sasaki pet the bay, gently nudging him with his knees as the moon’s light washed over them. “We’ll be fine and long gone before they notice anything amidst.”

Chapter Text

Oden was beneath him, where he belonged. Kaidou growled, low and deep in his throat, staring down at those sharp black eyes. Fearless even now. He tangled his hands in Oden hair, forcing him to arch his neck with a gasp, eyes focused on that muscular column of flesh and the pulsing scent glands. He bared his teeth, jaw lowering to sink his fangs in that masculine flesh.

And jerked away as if scalded. What had he been thinking? He shook his head, the Wano country side and Oden melting away. Just a dream, he was in a dream. His fingers twitched, jaw aching as his fangs itched to bit down. It was nothing. There was nothing to bite. No one to claim or even worthy to be marked that intimately.

He snorted, striding though the country side, the sound of battle echoing around him. This was more familiar. He had dreamt this before. Had been here before…

Blood sprayed up, hot thick, splattering his wound tight form. The men around him were in his colors, in his uniform. They were the beginning of his army and he knew who they were fighting. Oden’s retainers were there, cutting them down. Larger than life, warped shadows with long blades and just splashes of colors and laughing faces.

And Oden. Broad chested with all that muscle on displayed as he rounded on him in nothing more than that stupid loincloth and hat. His black hair was a just flowing in the breeze and where were all those cherry petals coming from. What was this bullshit. Who the fuck oiled up their pecs before battle. He wanted to bite them, till they bruised.

Kaidou snarled, enraged as he swung his kanabo. He met Oden’s strike for strike, panting as he fell back from the force of the sword strikes. And Oden just smiled that stupid wide grin. It was infuriating. They were not that far apart in strength. They could not be.

The great swords bit into his flesh, casting him down on the earth, injuring him in a way he could not remember being wounded in his years of battle. He hit the ground, damp with shed blood and stared at Oden as he stood before him, standing tall and proud and splattered with blood. His blood. An irrational part of Kaidou mind wanted to lick it off him. To sink his fangs in and taste Oden’s own. To mark him up in response to the twin wounds his body now bared.

The rest of him just wanted to pummel that smug grin of his face. To smash him into the ground and show him how strong he was. Kaidou snarled, slapping away the hand Oden offered. In peace, in offering, in friendship, who knew. He wasn’t weak and he didn’t need help. He was Kaidou. He was a weapon meant for war and war he would have.

Oden turned away at a voice, and Kaidou could see the opportunity presented in the distracted as that sweat shiny broad back turned to him. He pressed up, swinging Hassaikai viciously, bubbling in triumph as Oden crumpled at his feet and Momonosuke mouth parted in a shocked o.

But it wasn’t Oden’s son. The form bubbled, shifting to Hiyori, to Toki, and then it was Higurashi the same old hag that had contacted him. The hag that had a devil fruit, the hag that had just taken away his honor and tainted his victory.

He screamed, swinging his war club up and down, smashing it into her ancient fragile form and crushing her in his rage. It didn’t help. It was done and he was tainted. He couldn’t fix this.

Kaidou woke with a start, claws dug deep into the pillow, feathers spilling out from the tears. He snarled, tongue running over his fangs that ached and attempted to ignore the erection chubbed up against his thigh. Oden was not attractive. He was a stupid infuriating man that Kaidou could wrap his hands around and bend like a pretzel.

He didn’t need this. He pressed his palm against his brow, breathing slowly in attempts to get himself under control. That wasn’t the important part of the dream, the old hag was the significant part of the dream. She was always there and she continuously used her power at a critical moment to trick Oden and led to Kaidou winning though underhanded means.

The hag was plotting something behind his back. Which meant Orochi did not trust him to win on his own merit, the sniveling coward. Kaidou huffed slightly as his erection wilted at the thought of the Kurozumi clan. At least they were good for something.

Kurozumi Higurashi… she was somewhere in his camp. Orochi might be a crawling roach of a man but he was also a nosy rat. He insistent that at least one of his followers would be at hand to assess the efforts and only trusting of his own kin. The old man would be too easy to track. Higurashi was harder. But she should have her own guard, likely from the Oniwabanshu. They might be drawing on his own men, they were not the most astute bunch. She should be easy to find…and he wished to have a little chat with her.

“Sir? Are you awake? I brought you breakfast.”

“Thank you, King.” Kaidou sat up in his futon, fingers tangling in his hair as he took one last deep breath to calm himself. “Have you seen Kurozumi Higurashi in the camp?” He questioned, standing up to find his pants.

“Higurashi?” King questioned, setting the tray down and busying himself pouring a cup of sake. “No, I can’t say I have seen her. But I am sure she will be found, if that is your desire.”

“Make it so, I want to know where she is hiding before we move out.” He dressed and walked out of the bedroom to the central part of his tent. “Do not confront her, I will be the one to do so.” He took the offer cup of sake, sipping it slowly. “Make sure to be discreate about it, King.”

“Of course.” King said. “Is there anything else?”

“Make sure the men are awake, I don’t care how. I want the army on the move in a few hours.” Kaidou ordered, removing the cover of his breakfast and give a pleased noised at the at the fish fillets, skin fried to a crisp. “Get a scout group out to check the area. I want to know where to confront Oden to give us the advantage.”

“It will be done,” King said calmly and slipped out.

Kaidou tore the skin off his fish, savoring the perfectly crisp taste before turning to the rest of his meal. Mounds of season rice, sliced pickles, miso soup, stuffed tamagoyaki. He picked up the bowl of soup, sipping slowly as he pulled his paper work closer, going through the daily reports. Kaidou finished his meal, nursing the remains of the sake as he signed off on requisition forms.

“We found her.”

So, she had been in his camp, the scheming witch. “Good,” Kaidou finished putting his name on the last of the kitchen’s requests. “Where is she hiding?”

“She has a tent set up towards the corrals. There seems to be a dozen oniwabanshu in the camp likely her personal guard and around two dozen of the newer recruits,” King reported. “They seem to be under the impression that she is following your orders for a secret important mission,” he said dryly.

“Of course, she would…” Kaidou snorted, standing slowly and picked up Hassaikai. “King, grab a dozen trustworthy men to surround the tent. No one leaves it. I need to have a bit of a chat with the old hag.”

~                                                                                      ~                                                                                         ~

Salem hummed, tapping the deck of cards on the overturn crate between him, Nel, Thea, and the stable hands. “Start the guesses.”

“Two of spades,” Thea replied, leaning back in a way that read casual but Salem was sure she was checking out the party approaching. Her shirt was riding up, leaving a strip of skin showing and that soft sigh was all show to distract the boys.

Nel sighed. “Ace of hearts?” She questioned. She was giving up on the game, she had been calling hearts for the last three.

“And you gents?” He questioned, idly watching Kaidou disappear into the large tent and King stand guard like a guardian angel or a loyal gargoyle. The show was on the road.

“Seven of clubs?” 

“Two of hearts.”

“King of hearts.”

Salem flipped the card over, revealing the two of spades. He nodded to Thea, handing her the card to tuck in her hand. “That is what? One in every five?” He asked, picking up the deck to shuffle the remaining cards.

“Mmh, about that.” Thea sorted her cards, grinning at Nel as the younger woman flipped her off, two cards tucked in the breast band of her uniform. “Aawww, come on Nel. You are what? 1 in 20 right now? Still better than the boys, they haven’t managed to get one yet.”

“Bite me, Thea.”

“I think we might want to call it for the day, it seems we are going to get front row seats to a show. Or being displaced,” Salem glanced at King, feeling the judgmental glare from there. “Might want to make yourself scarce, boys. Don’t think you want to get caught up in whatever shit is going down.” 

He took back the cards, shuffling them back into the well-worn deck, and slipped it into his belt pouch. The stable hands took that as permission to bolt, smart enough to know they didn’t want any part of what was coming next.

“Well, you going to predict what will happen next?” Nel questioned, nodding to the gaudy tent encircled by fire. Well, well, when had King put that up?

“Kaidou going to violently murder someone.” Salem didn’t need to future sight to know someone was going to end up dead and soon and violently. “I’ll give Higurashi a ten percent chance of getting out of there with her skin attached.”

“Sounds a bit generous,” Thea replied, rocking slightly on her feet, and clambered up the posts to get a better view. “King seems to be pissed off more than usual.”

“He thinks we’re skimping our duties.” Salem stretched, cracking his back. “Ten to one, he caught Sasaki raiding Kaidou’s stash again to swap sake with kombucha and tea.”

“That’s a suckers bet.” Nel stood up, towering over Thea, even with the fence giving her extra height. “Try not to get burnt, old man,” she ordered, and started to walk back to the camp.

“Best of luck, Salem,” Thea called following along. “Phase two is in motion!”

“Phase two it is,” he acknowledged, watching the pair leave before sauntering over to the chaos. “What brought you over this way, King?” he asked, looking up. “Thought you’d be taking command by now. Directing the troops to their place and other important second in command duties.” The fire was pleasantly warm, crackling merrily. “Not hmm trapping some rats in a burrow?” He inquired.

“I thought you would be at your assigned posts, and keeping Sasaki out of the sake.” King drawled.

“He’s fourteen. Think he can handle himself for a bit,” Salem replied. “Kaidou can also devise a better hiding place for his stash. He is lucky the kid is just swapping them out in concerns for his health instead of imbibing, or selling them.” Salem paused considering. “Fuck, we should sell them.”

He grinned watching King falter for a moment. “Just imagine the amount of tea we could get for one of those bottles. Could empty and refill some kegs with some nice cold barley tea, and see how long it takes the men to figure out what they are swigging down.” There it was, Salem beamed as he caught the moment King twitched in aborted laughter. “But really, what you doing over here? At Higurashi’s tent, which seems like a peculiar spot for her. Thought she be right in the center, so she can be lording it up over someone.”

“It is, isn’t it? As if she had something to hide,” King replied, controlling himself admirably. “Usually I would be more understanding, but Sasaki roped Yamato into being his look out.”

“Mmh, the kid really looks up to him,” Salem glanced around and bite off the rest of his thought. “Let them have their fun, King. It does Yamato no harm to enjoy himself a bit.” He met the other’s stare, relaxed under the heavy gaze. He tipped his head, nodding to the tent as voices began to rise in pitch. “Well, sounds like our fearless leader is not at all pleased with her explanation.”

“It is bad form to consider us merely hired help,” King muttered, eyes glittering as he reached forward, drawing from the flame on his back. It was always an absolute pleasure to watch King practice his art, bending and shaping the flames to his very will. He pulled his creation to his mouth, breathing slowly over the coils before releasing it.

Serpents of fire bloomed, coiled around the tent, skin crackling with popping embers and sizzling in controlled heat. Salem clapped, gleeful at the creations. “It is always a treat to watch you work.” It was a shame that they rarely got watch such an artist.

“Thank you.”

It was sort of nice, just relaxing as he extended a small bit of haki to catch the tail end up Kaidou’s reply.

“I am protecting your grandson, and I can do so without you interfering. Orochi is not part of this battle; it is between me and Oden and nine samurai. I have a thousand men under my command, we will be victorious Higurashi. You and your men are to wait in the camp for my return or we can settle this now.”

“Now! I want this plan,” Higurashi started and Salem gave a small wince as he caught the whistle of Kaidou’s formable war club and the sickening thunk as it hit meat and bone. “Well, that solved that issue.” She would not be getting out of there alive. Well, it was no big lost, though he would have to make sure they check for her fruit. “How much do you think her fruit would sell for?”

“Ahh, I hadn’t considered it.” King hummed thoughtfully. “Base price is one hundred mil, so probably could get seventy percent out of an auction house after their fees.”

“Still a good pay out,” Salem said, rocking slightly on his feet and lift a brow as he was approached by one of Kaidou’s little projects. What formal pirate captain was this one? Alpha male, with the cocky I’m big shit swagger walk that Salem pegged as compensating for something or the other. Broad shoulder, short cut hair, and ahh the 315. Had not even been here for a full year and looking to start shit. “Lucky me,” he muttered. Looks like the clown circus had finally decided to make a move.

“Apologies, King. Do you need me to escort this omega away?”

And there it was, addressing the nearest alpha not him personally, and using his dynamic and not his name. Salem snorted, rolling his eyes, and glanced up at King. King glanced down at him and Salem cracked, laughing at the absurdity of this little baby suppressed alpha attempting to remove him.  “Ooh, he, does not know who I am. At all.” He wheezed and crackled as King let out his own low rumbling chuckle.

“Excuse me?”

“Ooh, this is the most amusing thing that has happened to me in a while. You are new, aren’t you?” Salem ran a hand under his eyes, wiping away tears. “Got Kaidou’s attention, likely was your group’s captain and now you are like look at me. I am so big and bad and going to chase away this omega.” He wheezed, scent spreading out like spiced apple cider with a bitter note of dark chocolate. “Trying to get a promotion, are we? Impress King?”

“Know your place.” He snapped swinging a punch at his face.

Salem sighed, ducking the sloppy swing. He stepped forward, closing the distance and as the man swung again, unbalanced and enraged grabbed his arm. He twisted, pulling the other against his back and tossed him over his shoulder and back and down on the ground. He smacked the heel of his boot hard against the ground, activating the switch blade tucked in the toe. “What was that? Know my place?” He asked, amused, swinging his foot forward to lightly scrape the blade against the man’s stubble.

“I…Sir, you are not going to let this stand? Right?” He squawked out.

“It was a fair fight,” King said. “You should remember that Salem has long earned his place as a Thorn. You are still attempting to prove yourself as worthy of a promotion to Shinuchi rank.” He shifted his masked face, giving a look of disdain even though the heavy leather. “If this is all you have to offer, we will have to rethink it. Now return to your spot, your grandstanding has left a gap in the line. I will hold you accountable if our prey escapes our net.”

“I, yes sir. apologies sir!” He said, scooting away on his back away from the blade, and scrambled to his feet.  

Salem snorted, clicking the side of the heel to withdraw the blade. “Thank you, I appreciate the back up.” Salem glanced at the tent, hearing Kaidou interrogating the troops inside. “Taking out Oden is nothing if his heir is still alive. Take your men, and the men here and retrieve him. Higurashi wanted to assure victory, well so we will. By taking care of both at once.”

Ahhh, well fuck. Salem chewed his lip, thoughtfully as he glanced up at the sky. The moon had set, so the secure way to send a message to the kids was out. The tide pools would take too long to set up and the kids would still be on the road and more than likely they would be marching out soon themselves. A denden call was an option but it could be overheard. It would have to wait.

It was not a bad plan on Kaidou’s part, tidying up the loose ends that would complicate the consolidation of Orochi’s rule. He was not setting himself up to be a loved ruler, Salem had listened into enough gossip to know that Oden still retained enough loyalty among the citizens to become a problem. He tapped his fingers, thoughtful. He would have to think on this.

He glanced over as Kaidou stepped out, ignoring the flames that surround the tent. They would not cause harm to Kaidou. Salem had been a part of the crew since King was a crushing sixteen-year-old and had front row seats to watched the entire drama of their relationship unfold. He watched the man lean over, speaking into the leather clad ear, the way King leaned slightly back into the man’s chest. There was an intimacy in the small subtle press of Kaidou’s hand on King’s hip as they chatted. The subtle tip of King’s head, even covered in the gear that spoke of their affection.

Salem had attempted to mentor the teen into a healthier relationship but, King’s entire world had revolved around the man. He could not say they were good for each other. They understood each other. In a violent, traumatized, unhealthy way that Salem just refused to touch even if he had time or the skills to unravel it. Highly entertaining at times. Kaidou had at least waited till King had turned twenty-one before reciprocating to his advances.

King nodded, calling the men together and unraveled his flames. The survivors started to file out, a mix of ninja and pirates, perhaps three dozen overall. Kaidou’s projects started to walk with them and King brought up the rear. Escorting them out of the camp.

“Salem, if you would?” Kaidou called, motioning him into the tent.

“Of course,” he shook himself from his daydreaming, walking into the tent. He stepped over a splatter of blood, not looking at the battered form of Higurashi and joined Kaidou at the stage. “How can I be of service?”

“How much did you over hear?” Kaidou asked.

“Enough, the old hag had plotted behind your back, you confronted her, she was very rude and you handled the issue permanently. You assigned the men to kidnap Momonosuke. I do not know if to permanently get rid of them or to truly make an attempt on Oden’s heir.” It could be either. He rocked slightly on his feet, considering. “It is currently advantageous to capture him.”

“Very good,” Kaidou nodded and pulled out a book, offering it carefully between two fingers for him to take. “Higurashi has been in communicating with the spy in Oden’s ranks. Using this. Could you duplicate her handwriting and send an encrypted message to the spy?”

“It has been a while since I been called to create a forgery,” Salem replied, accepting the book, and flipped through it. It seemed to be a simple replacement cipher, easy to use with the proper translation. The writing would be trickier.

“I should be able to manage. What do you want the message to say?” He questioned, settling down on the rough set up stage to practice. Salem nodded, listening to Kaido talk as he began to dictate the message.

~                                                                          ~                                                                                                         ~

“Sir?”

“Enter!” Kaidou called, cleaning the last remnants of the late Higurashi from his skin. He checked his nails, digging out a bit of dried blood. “The men?”

“The ones taken in by Higurashi are far from the camp. The rest of the men are forming ranks under the former captains. We should be set to leave in around ten to fifteen minutes,” King reported, nodding politely as he accepted the sake cup. “The one’s chosen by Salem have also been informed and released to spread misinformation.”

“Perfect,” Kaidou said, filling the shallow cup to the brim. “We’ll have a drink and then start the march out.”

“The children are missing.” King added.

“What?” Kaidou questioned, nearly slopping the sake and righted the vessel. He frowned, reaching out with Kenbunshoku haki, stretching it out slowly over the camp. Most of the pirates were dull to his senses, King voice was bright burning fire that flared out, hungry. Sasaki voice was a steady deep well of power with a slow push and pull that warped the voices around him. Yamato was a small bright spark of power, bubbling up with nearly endless energy. King was loud in his range, flame crackling close to his mental senses but either Sasaki or Yamato were in the camp, or even a mile around it.

“Hnn, looks like they snuck out again.” Kaidou accepted the cup King poured for him. It would not be the first time his children had snuck out and at the very least this meant they would not be under foot when the battle happened. He took a slow sip of the sake, a daiginjo finely chilled from the ice. Fruity, lush and juicy, a perfect sake to enjoy by itself.

“Shouldn’t we find them?”

“No, where ever they are is probably safer than here. Sasaki mature enough to keep his sibling out of trouble and it saves me the headache of making sure Yamato stays put.” Kaidou finished up the small cup, wiping it clean. “This would not be the first time they snuck out and probably will not be the last. Let them have their fun, King.”

“Mmhm.” King slipped his mask far enough up that he could drink freely. “As you wish.”

“What, have they grown on you? I seem to remember that you could not get away from them fast enough,” Kaidou teased.

“Sasaki hatched as independent hell spawn,” King grumbled, feathers ruffling in remembrance of sharp little claws climbing up his wings. “Yamato, I worry about.”

“My son will find his place,” Kaidou gave a frustrated rumble. “I wish he was less obstinate about it.” Yamato was surprisingly stubborn, refusing to accept his responsibilities as heir. He should be proud, that he would inherit so much power when he grew up into it. Kaidou needed to test him more, push him into it.

“But enough of that, let us get the men to move out so we can get into position. We have a battle to win, and an empire to grasp.” Kaidou grabbed his war club, fleshly cleaned and swung it on his shoulder.  

Chapter Text

Sasaki bit his lip as he led his horse through the massive Tori gates, looking up at the Kozuki residence. The Kuri castle high in the mountains. The castle. He swallowed slightly, nervous. He had gone through Okobore town to get there, hoping the smaller town would be more welcoming than Bakura on the other side at the foot of the mountain. Yamato was sprawled out on the saddle, secured with some rope as he snored away. The brat had fallen asleep about three hours in the trip. “This seemed a lot easier in my head.” He hadn’t brought his younger sibling into a possible trap. He just… got to keep believing in the samurai honor code? Bushido?

He sighed, petting the horse’s muzzle as it snuffed against his shoulder. “I’m good. They are honorable, I just got to keep reminding myself of that.” He was Sasaki, eldest son of Kaidou and it would be fine… even if he wasn’t human. His tail twitched at some of the stares from the houses as he continued up the steps.

Keep it together, it wasn’t as if you could hide your horns that well. Not anymore. They have a fishman and minks on staff. The only ones in Wano, who were adopted by the Daimyo’s son who your dad helped displaced. “Fuck.” He was thinking too much about this.

“You said a bad word.”

“Finally awake?” Sasaki looked back at his brother as Yamato yawned, trying to sit up. “One moment.” He reached back, tugging the knot loose. “There. You fell asleep.”

“Mmhm, has Hiyori always lived this far away?” Yamato questioned, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, we just tend to see her out side of her home.” Sasaki craned his head up. Usually around the wilds of the farm. “Forgot how large this place is.” Or that the streets were full of loyal people and he was wearing the beast pirate jolly roger on his clothes. It was his to claim, he wanted his affiliation to be clear, one party to another.

“It is pretty,” Yamato said, looking around curiously.

“It is,” Sasaki said. “This is going to be different then our usual meet ups, so I want you to behave.” He stressed the words. “We are going to be meeting Hiyori’s mother, and she is royalty.” Of sorts, Lady Toki was a member of the six important families of Wano and could have taken over the Shogunate just as much as Orochi. She probably would be better. Orochi was an idiot. Well, if Wano allowed women to take the office of Shogunate. They really should change that.

“Waittttt…” Yamato said, brow furrow in thought. “Is, is Hiyori a princess?” he asked, surprised and awed.

“Mmh, pretty much.”

“Does that make Momo a prince? But he is such a coward,” Yamato questioned, trying to wrap his head around the idea of Momo being a prince.

“Momo is what? Almost eight,” Sasaki replied, amused. “Give him some time to grow into his rank.”

“I’m eight,” Yamato pointed out. “And Hiyori is six and we are all alphas and Momo is afraid of you.”

“He might be on to something; I’m a scary individual. Rarhh.” Sasaki flexed his fingers, claws sliding out with a snick and then back in. “It is normal to be afraid of the unknown and the new. He will get over it in a couple years. Besides, sometimes being scared is useful. Keeps you from doing something stupid,” he eyed Yamato. “You do a lot of stupid shit Yams.”

“I do not!”

“Do to.”

“Do not! You’re the one that’s stupid.”

“I’m not the one that gets in trouble with dad constantly.”

“Pffhsss,” Yamato stuck out his tongue, blowing a raspberry at his brother.

“Really mature, Yams. Totally your best behavior.” Sasaki drawled, reaching up to tug on the exposed tongue. “Try to keep that in your mouth while we see Toki, okay?”

Yamato nipped at the hand and grumbled, pouting slightly as they moved closer to the castle. “I’m not stupid.”

“Never said you were, doing stupid shit is different than being stupid.” Sasaki soothed.

“Really???”

“Yeah, Dad does stupid shit all the time. He’s not stupid, he just so powerful he can do stupid shit and pull it off. You aren’t at that level, so when you do stupid shit, you can’t pull it off and get in trouble.” Sasaki could admit having Kaidou as a dad lead to some issues, like an understanding on how to problem solve without terrorizing people into giving you what you want. Or killing them. Or making them part of your army. “It like the more competent you are at something the more you can do something that at first seems stupid but ends up being taken as genius.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Yeah, it’s not. But you are seven, you got all the time to get better.” Sasaki reached over tousling Yamato’s hair. “Just stop aggravating dad so much. I can’t do much to get you out of those punishments.”

Yamato wrinkled his nose. “I’ll try,” he grumbled, reaching into his sleeve to pull out the somewhat squashed onigiri. “Want one?”

“No, thanks for sharing but absolutely no. You can have those.” Sasaki gently pressed them away. “Anyhow, eat those before we get there, okay? Try to be neat.” He was going to have to clean Yamato face when they got closer, wasn’t he.  

“Wait… what do you mean I’m seven? I’m eight.”

“No, you are going to be eight in November, you’re still seven until then.”

“But your fourteen and that means I’m eight!”

“My birthday is before yours, Yams. It’s mid-October, you got a few weeks.”

 ~                                                                                     ~                                                                                        ~

Hiyori pressed her ear against the cool smooth washi filing the shoji frame, listening very, very hard in an attempt to make out what had made Auntie Tsurujo so upset. It wasn’t like her and Hiyori wanted to help her feel better! And that met learning what happened!

“Are you sure of this Tsurujo?” Toki questioned, frowning slightly. “It just seems unlike Kaidou to send children into battle.”

That was mother! Hiyori wiggled, listening very hard. Mother would know what to do! 

“Kaidou flag is on his haori,” Tsuru replied, sitting across from her, hands folded in her lap. “It seems to be just the two of them, and at the most it is suspicious for them to be approaching now.”

“Go over it again, slowly,” Yasuie said.

“I was getting ready to open up the tea shop when I saw them heading up the road to the castle. A young man dressed in formal clothing, with Kaidou’s flag taking the place of family crests and a youth sleeping on the back of the horse he was leading. The elder is armed, but they do seem to be alone.”

“What of the child?” Yasuie questioned.

“They are oni, I believe,” Tsuru started. “They both have horns, but differently shaped. The elder has a tail. The child looks to be about eight; their hair is mainly white but changes to green.”

“Did you say oni?” Hiyori interrupted, pushing the door open far enough to pop her head inside. “Like green and white oni?” She questioned, excited. Could it be? She waved at her aunt and uncle. “Hi Aunt Tsurujo-san, Uncle Yasuie-san.”  

“Hiyori! What are you doing here” Toki asked, turning to her daughter. “It is rude to ease drop.”

“Sorry, mommy. But oni?” she asked, dancing slightly on her feet. “Coming here?”

“There is no reason to be afraid, “Tsuru started, “I’m sure Yasuie will handle them.”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Sasaki and Yamato are visiting!” Hiyori scampered away, gleefully shouting as she ran down the hallways, passing her brother.

She could faintly hear Momonosuke confused voice asking “Is Sasaki and Yamato officially coming over?” As she turned the corner, taking as many steps as she could manage. She hadn’t seen them in what felt like forever. She zoomed past Banzaburo, yelling out “Sorry Banza,” as she hurried to the entrance.

Hiyori heaved the door wide enough for her to slip out. “YAAAMMAATOOOO” she yelled out, catching sight of him. On a horse! And was that Sasaki? He was all pretty. “Sasaaaakki!” She scrambled down the steps, tossing herself down and in warm strong arms as he caught her with a surprised oomph and hoisted her up to his shoulder.

“Hiyori, I think we talked about this,” Sasaki grumbled, a hand keeping her balanced as she leaned over him. Hiyori waved gleefully at Yamato as he scrambled on the horse and laughed as her friend was hoisted up and across from her.

“Hiyori! Are you a princess?” Yamato questioned, reaching over to snag her hands, eyes bright. “I got to ride a horse and we have been camping and what have you been doing?”

“Maybe? What’s a princess?” Hiyori questioned, confused before getting excited. “I saw! Does the horse have a name? Can I ride him? Can I pet him? Pleaseeeee.” She looked down, grinning at Sasaki. “Pleaseee?”

“Ehh, probably can pet him. Don’t know about riding him though, have you even been on a horse?” He questioned. “I don’t think your mom will be too happy if you fell off.”

“Nope, but doesn’t mean you can’t teach me.” Hiyori replied, cheerfully. “You are teaching Yamato, right?”

“I’m not actually. This is the first time Yams been on one. Now, you ready to get down? Both of you are getting heavy.”

“No, I’m not heavy.” Hiyori whined, gripping the horns carefully. “Don’t be mean.”

“Don’t be mean, you can do it.” Yamato cheered.

“Really, why do you to just regress to brats whenever you are together?” Sasaki questioned and sighed. “You know what brats get?”

“Nooooo.” Hiyori laughed, gripping tightly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t spin us.” Yamato called grabbing tight, giggling.

“Brats get spun.” Sasaki affirmed, tightening his arms and spun wildly.

She screamed, thrilled, falling backwards, giggling as the world spun. Hiyori captured Yamato hand, holding them high as they screamed together. She giggled, as the world flipped upside down and lurched, being held up by her ankle. “Againnn.”

“Ooh, hell no,” Sasaki said, gently lowering them on the ground. “I think your body guard and mom are this close to skewing me for that stunt.”

Hiyori blinked, turning on her stomach and looked up. “Ooh! Hi, Banza! Mother.” She called cheerfully. “Have you met my friends? They have a horse!”

“Can I pet the horse?” Momonosuke questioned, pressed against his mother’s side.

“Introductions first,” Toki said, gently. “Hiyori, if you would come here?”

Hiyori sat up, carefully dusting off her kimono before standing up, walking to her mother. “They’re nice,” she insisted, taking the offered hand and sticking her tongue out at her brother as he scowled at her.  

~                                                                                                ~                                                                                     ~

Toki was too well mannered to show her relief as Hiyori returned to her, well and unharmed to press against her side. Her stomach unclenched and she reached down, gently smoothing her daughter’s mused hair into order. “I am sure they are,” she soothed. “But both of you are to stay here with Banzaburo while I greet them.” She glanced over at the man servant, making sure he had her children well in hand before looking at the pair of children in front of her.

Kaidou scent was blatant on them, making her instincts stand on end as she approached. Kaidou scent tend to linger on his men, but not this hair-raising sharp bite that spoke of a pack claim. A clear warning that these two were under his care and with the addition of the subtle milky scent of pup, her alpha was cautious about doing anything that could offend the more dominate alpha, never mind that Kaidou was not even present. The beast pirate’s jolly roger neatly embroidered on the tailored montsuki kimono just doubled down on their affiliation.

She considered the information her son had reluctantly shared, teary eyed that he had been caught. The elder had some fishman blood, she could pick up a faint scent she associated with Kawamatsu now she was looking for it. He had tucked the smaller pup behind him, keeping him corralled with his tail. Her son had mentioned him being adopted and that was probably true. Sasaki did not look like Kaidou and she could not make out his actual scent under the mix of citrus and cypress. He had some rather clever scent blockers on, not even suppressants! An art Toki had thought lost to time. The smaller pup, peering up at her with wide bright orange eye behind his brother’s leg was Kaidou’s. He must be Yamato. His scent had an ember of Kaidou’s tangled into it, a catastrophic note that promised great power given time to mature.

 “I am Lady Toki, current regent of this castle while my husband is away,” she said, standing proud and looking just slightly up to meet the young fishman’s eyes. He was going to be tall and seemed somewhat uncomfortable in the full former style outfit. Considering she had never seen Kaidou in the native attire, she would not be surprised that this was the first time he had worn it. “What business brings you here?”

“I am Sasaki,” he said, voice keeping steady and set a hand on the pup beside him, musing his white hair with green tips. “This is Yamato. I was hoping to talk to you about a possible parley.”  

“A parley?” Toki questioned, just managing to keep the surprise out of her voice. She had never considered the possibility of a parley. They were also tended to be loosely followed depending on the crews involved in the parley. “Would it be honored?” She inquired. It was a bold offer, but she could see some glaring flaws already depending on the elders’ age and dynamic.

“Dad has honored stuff I brought to him before,” Sasaki replied, starting to shrug before standing straight again, catching himself. “I can’t promise Orochi will,” he wrinkled his nose, clearly finding the man unpleasant. “Depending on what happens, I can’t see any reason to inform him. Dad would find it hilarious so I’m rather sure I can get him on board to keeping it secret if we need to.”

Was that some schism between Kaidou and Orochi? Sasaki was attempting to be formal but had a very expressive face, broadcasting his personal feelings and slipping in a more relax style of speech. He didn’t have the proper training for diplomacy but clearly, he felt it was important enough to travel here. But why? He spoke easily of Kaidou and it seemed they had a decent relationship. What reason could he be here for?”

“Why do you believe we should consider a parley?” She questioned, noting his eyes look towards Momo and Hiyori and then back to the pup at his side, clearly considering his words. Toki steeled herself.

“Dad knows your husband on the move to fight him,” Sasaki said finally. “I can see this fight ending one of two ways.” He fiddled slightly with his hands, fingers tapping against his tanto’s hilt. “Figured you are honorable enough to not do anything untold towards me or my brother while we discuss mmhm contingency plans?” He nodded. “Yeah, I been working on a few since dad started moving us off the island.”

Kaidou knew, he had known for a while. Perhaps even the moment her husband had declared he had enough and started off for the long-awaited final battle. But he would not have the element of surprise on his side and Kaidou would have time to entrench his men. Toki drew a little breath, eyes half lidded in thought. How had he gathered such information? “I see,” she muttered.

“Maybe your man could take the kids to tend my horse while we discuss this?” Sasaki questioned, a bit clumsy in his offer, but it was sound.

“Banzaburo? If you would?” She requested. “I will have to request you hand over your tanto while we sequester for the talks.” Toki could read that the kid knew more than he was letting on, and the children didn’t need to know who betrayed them. If he was relaxed unarming, then whoever the traitor was not in the house. Which met it would be one of her husband’s oldest commandries.

“Of course,” Sasaki offered the long knife to the man servant, before unloading the horse, swinging the packs over his shoulder, and patted the gelding’s neck. “Hiyori? Did you still want to feed him?” He questioned, pulling out sugar cubes from the pack’s pocket.

“Yes! Please!”

Toki chuckled softly, covering her mouth with her sleeve as she watched the pups crowd him, getting a sugar cube each and a quick demonstration of how to offer it to the horse. Sasaki gently pat the horse, the big gelding easy going and placid despite the crowd of chattering children, gently lipping up the snack from small hands. A well-trained and well cared for beast. Toki could see why her children had been charmed to keep such a big secret from her. The youth was good with them, easily bantering with her son as he swung her excited daughter on the horse’s back, giving her tips in how to balance in the saddle.

Banzaburo took the reins and led the gelding off to be stabled, corralling the kids in front of him.

Toki walked over to him, carefully setting a hand on his shoulder. “Follow me. We can talk over tea with Lord Yasuie.”

“The Hakumai daimyo?” Sasaki questioned, following her inside. “Guess the old man would be an ally of yours.”

 “He is. Does your father know you are here?” Toki questioned, motioning to a maid. “Could you gather Lord Yasuie to meet us at the blue room. And send Tsurujo to help Banzaburo with the children?” She toed off her geta, slipping her feet into the house slippers. “You can borrow these,” she said, offering him some guess slippers.

“No. But it’s fine. Dad usually okay with us being out as long as we show up before bed.” Sasaki slipped his feet into the slippers. “I can send him a message if we go late.”

Toki hummed, between concern and relief. Concern that it was clear these children did not have proper adult supervision and relief that Kaidou was not going to show up at her home. “How did you know about my husband?” She asked, leading him though the house. How had he received the information?

“Orochi has a spy somewhere…” Sasaki said, drawing off. “They have a devil fruit…um a jutsu? That works with ink. They make little creatures out of it.”

Kanjuro. Toki lips pressed tight. She had always felt he was a bit off… but a traitor? To Orochi? Still…what could the youth get by lying to her? Toki vowed to get to the bottom of this. Someone had clearly betrayed them and she would figure out who. She slid open the door, motioning him inside. “Take a seat, I’m sure Yasuie will be here soon.”

She watched Sasaki walk in, setting down his packs and started to pull out various things from the depths. A bottle of surprisingly expensive rare sake, likely stolen from Kaidou’s stores. A box of carefully packaged bake goods, and a small tin of matcha powder. “I brought some gifts, for tea… a small offering for your time,” he said, slightly flushed in his cheeks as he sat. He shifted; a bit uncomfortable. “I’m… not really good at making it though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” Toki said, expressing her gratitude at the gifts and went to find some cups to pour the sake in and order a pot of hot water for the tea. “Did you bring any notes or idea of what you wish to parley about?”

“I have contracts actually,” Sasaki admitted, pulling out a messenger tube and offering it to her. “If you would take a look?”

Toki took the tube, carefully opening it up and retrieved a thick package of papers. She set it down, looking at the carefully written characters not in Uniscelian as she had expected but in Sino, her home language. “You write rather well,” most of it was done in simpler hiragana but he seemed to have a decent grasp on kanji and article order. She leafed through the papers, noting areas for her signature and small notes scrawled in the corners.

“Thank you. I been practicing,” Sasaki admitted, shifting nervously as Yasuie walked in along with servants. He gave a small nod, nervously picking at his thumb with a nail.

“Thank you for coming, Yasuie. This is Sasaki, he has come here to see about a possible parley,” Toki introduced, motioning for the daimyo of Hakumai to sit by her. “Could you keep him company as I read through this?”

“Of courses, do you know the history of the shogunate?” Yasuie questioned, good naturally.

“Some?” Sasaki offered, “I know about the Kurozumi family attempted to overthrow the Kozuki shogunate by poisoning the rival daimyo eighty some years ago. Failed to do so. Which ended up causing a crazy bias persecution of the Kurozumi family that was not involved. Leading to the current coup. Mainly because Orochi gets drunk with dad and then doesn’t shut up about it.” He paused, counting on his fingers. “Before Orochi was Sukiyaki, and umm forgot his dad’s name, but the Kozuki’s have been the ruling line for generations back.”

“I see, well you do have some knowledge of the more current events. Let’s go back to the beginning.” Yasuie said, giving thanks to the young maid that poured him a cup of sake and spread out some plain piece of paper to scribble on. “So, you know the current regions, but after that coup the land once belonging to the Kurozumi got absorbed. Originally it was separated like this,” Yasuie said, redrawing the map.

Toki gave a soft smiled, watching Yasuie go over his history lesson with Sasaki. She shook her head at the maid as she lifted the sake, and nodded at the tea making sure the youth was no served alcohol before returning to the contract, scrawling at notes beside her. This was going to take a while but Yasuie had him well in hand, and Banzaburo was supervising her children. Toki could take her time. She sipped her cup of tea and settled in for a long couple of hours.

Chapter Text

The sun was rising at his back, warm against his scales and make them flash a brilliant azure shade. Kaidou preened, scales raised and rattling as he scraped his teeth over them, picking over the serrated edges in a single-minded determination. Too late to take a sand bath, to scrape and dig into the hot sands and buff his scales till they were glowing…got to make do with his teeth and claws and make them neat and orderly…

Wait. What the fuck was he doing. Kaidou hissed, shaking himself and reign back the more instinctive drive to make himself attractive for Oden. What the absolute fuck? He narrowed his eyes, prodding at the dragon and grumbled at the emotional barrage.

Just… just because the man was attractive and could possibility keep up with him in a fight did not mean they should fuck. Kaidou transformed, head tipped back in his hybrid form as he breathed deeply. Get it together. He had a battle to win and Oden would be coming around the corner soon, he could not be distracted by the urge to show off for the man.

But what if we did. The dragon questioned, curling in his mind, hot blooded and eager. The sky was theirs to show off in, to dance among the storms they brought to life. To twist among the thunder, to the awe of their possible mate. A teaser of what could be if they survived the battle and proved they could survive being mounted.

Kaidou licked his lips, warmth pooling in his belly and the temptation of pressing Oden into the dirt till he was trapped beneath his chest in his thoughts. We cannot lose focus; he replied seriously considering it. The sky was advantageous. They were too immense as a man let alone as a dragon to fight among the men and the storms would be good cover. It was not as if his minions would know that it was a courtship dance. We are a fucking noodle; it wouldn’t be a dance. It would be awkward as fuck. We can preen though…He relented.

He felt the dragon’s glee fill him as they transformed back, stretching out to work out the kinks. Kaidou tossed his head, claws combing through his mane till it was fluffed impressively. He scrutinized his claws checking them for splits and rumbled satisfied.

“Nervous?” King questioned, landing beside Kaidou, folding up his wings as he sat on the mountain side.

“No,” Kaidou shifted, coils pressing against King. He gave a pleased rumble as the man started to comb though his mane. King fingers were clever and sunk into the hard-to-reach spots removing the occasional leaf or twig that had gotten stuck. Kaidou arched, rumbling, haki spilling out to blanket the area.

His men were spreading out over the valley. They were armed and eager, he could smell their excitement as they hyped themselves up.  They had not been handpicked by him, not like King but they should do. It was unlikely the recruits could match one on one to the legendary samurai under Oden’s command but he should have enough to overpower them with numbers. It would have to do.

“I want you on reserve,” Kaidou said, watching the last of the men fall in place. “Let the men break against them first to wear them out and be fast and smart where you strike after.” Most of the recruits were cannon folder at best, but they would serve their purpose. They were broken into smaller groups, their former captains at the head, eager to prove themselves and earn his favor.

Three of the Thorns had settled midway on the mountain, setting up camp with a view of the valley. Salem and Thea were managing communication unpacking, numerous den den mushi’s, a rolodex of codes, and a spyglass to contact and command individuals on the field. Nel had set up her sniper rifle and packed up a tub of ammunition. Eliza had taken over a small sheltered area to stash various first aid supplies. They would handle the bulk of the army, leaving him to seek out Oden and allowing King to harry individuals.

He shifted, head lifting as he felt the heavy weight of Oden’s haki. Steady and solid like a mountain, unwavering in his determination. Kaidou laughed, gleeful as he roared lightening crackling over the sky as a warning. He was here and ready for him. He pushed forward, flame clouds generating under his feet as he lifted into the air.

Flame cloud built under him, lighting sparkling though it infusing with his haki. Kaidou laughed, looking down at Oden, fang maul spreading in a wide grin as he watched the man step forward and truly take in the army before him.  “Did you receive my messengers?” He inquired, coils shifting slowly behind him as he prepared. “I do hope so, after I went through the trouble to send them out for you.” He rumbled in his throat, eyes dilating at the splatter of blood over Oden’s kimono. He had received their little gifts.

“I did,” Oden replied. “How were you informed. I did not expect this sort of numbers, I expected to find you on your island drinking yourself into a stupor. “

Kaidou crackled, talons dragging through the flame cloud, generating more purple clouds sparking with energy. “I had a warning from a spy within your castle. That mansion was just finished and I have no desired to see it wrecked.” His den was perfect, well protected, with multiple sources of water and heated clean sands. He had worked hard in making sure his hatchlings would be protected and his current partner would have a safe and secure place to disrobe.

“Was it all a lie?”

“Mmh? Well, partly. I never planned to leave, or give up our place here,” Kaidou replied. No world government, nearly unmatched natural boundaries, an untapped source of skilled weapon smiths. Wano was perfect for his needs, providing a safe place to raise his hatchlings and grow his army. “The rest? I remained true to our deal.” He wrapped himself into loops, coiling lazily in the air. Perhaps they could show off a little bit, how very shiny their scales were.

“We were at a disadvantage, if you had lived up to your reputation.” Kaidou tipped his head, eyes boring into the incensed samurai, and rested his chin on his coils, completely nonchalant. “I do hope you live up to that reputation now. I been a bit bored, of late.” Kaidou smiled broadly, showing sharp fangs, lighting crackling over his teeth. “I really want a challenge. Do you think you could provide one?”

“Ahh, I see my message reached the traitor. I had wondered if it would, how unfortunate for you to be betrayed by your own men, during this trial.” Kaidou crackled lazily, breathing out a plume of mist. “Worororo, will you even be able to give your best? Or will you let your emotions get the better of you?”

“Do not mock me,” Oden called, stepping forwards, brandishing his swords. “Let us settle this now, you and me. No armies, not cheap shots, just the two of us settling our futures.”

“Oooh?” Kaidou galloped down, transforming the last fifty of so feet as he dropped dramatically to the ground. “A one-on-one battle? Is that your true desire?” he asked, beckoning King forward. “Then meet me here!” he proclaimed, tossing his arms out. He offered his kanabo to King. “If you would draw the ring?”

“This was not the plan,” King hissed, taking the heavy war club.

“Live a little,” Kaidou drawled, flexing on his heels as he waited for the samurai to join him. “Why not have a bit of fun with it?”

“Really sir?” King bemoaned and sighed, drawing out a wide circle on the ground. “I doubt the men are going to stand by and just watch you wail on the samurai.”

“Well, that why I am having you set up a flame barrier. No one in, only the victor can leave.” Kaidou reached up, feeling the stretch in his shoulders. “If the men want to wail on each other, they are allowed to.” He cracked his fingers and grinned, taking back Hassasikai the war club a solid and comfortable weight in his hand. The dragon was smug in his mind, preening as it prepared for the fight.

~                                                                                                   ~                                                                    ~

Did this man have to make everything a mockery? Oden unclenched his hands, flexing them slowly, massaging the palm of his hand and ball of his thumb as he trekked down the hill side and into the valley. He breathed slowly, tapping down his rage that Kaidou of all people questioned his men’s loyalty. Kaidou who coerced the defeated into his army. Who had lied... well no, that had been Orochi who had lied to him.

Kaidou was his paid beast. A rabid dog… was he really? Oden’s snarled as his instincts questioned him, eyes falling on the imposing form, standing strong in front of them. Kaidou, what did he really know about Kaidou? He breathed out, ignoring the rowdy laughter of the crowd as Kaidou’s men pressed closer, crowding him, jeering but not touching. They smelled of leather, suppressants, hair oils, perfumes, and the odd mix of pheromones. Most were still on suppressants but a few were not…Kaidou was not.

He smelled of a storm front. Ozone, rain, and lighting that zipped across his skin in burst of painless but distracting static. It did not matter who Kaidou was… it wasn’t the time to question it. It was the time to battle him. He owed his citizens, he owed it to his wife, he owed it to his children, he owed it to Wano to free her from his man’s grasp.

It was almost like a sumo ring, the lines etched quickly in the soft dirt, a line bisecting the center. Two arenas. Kaidou was lounging in his half, idly talking to his second and it was rare for Oden to have to look up. Blue scales ran over his skin, nearly glowing in the noon sun and the horns spiraling up in ivory towers nearly seem to spear the sun. He could understand how the pirates bowed to this false idol, but he was here to put an end to it.

“What are you planning,” Oden questioned, slowly stepping into the ring. The dirt was firm under his foot, no tricks springing as he took his place in the free half.

“King, if you would erect the barrier?” Kaidou flicked his tail, taking a broad step furth into the ring. Oden shifted, eyes narrowing as the ground rumbled beneath Kaidou’s weight. He shifted his stance, adjusting for the shifting of the ground.  “It is just a simple thing, to keep anyone from interfering.”

“Is that so?” Oden questioned, glancing at Kaidou’s second. The man was tall, an enigma talked about broadly by his citizens. What was behind the mask? The leathers? Oden thought he was related to the Skypedians in some fashion. An older more scared lineage. The man cupped his hands and conjured fire, rotating it as one would examine a fruit, feeding it more and more flames till it was large enough that Oden could hear the crackling of the flames.

He lobbed the flames above them. Oden shielded his eyes, watching it glow and then burst, breaking into a rain of flames that filled the etched lines, rising above his head, above Kaidou’s horns. The barrier threw off heat, sweat licking his skin between the harsh rays of the sun and the sudden oven of a cage that encircled them.

“A simple thing,” Oden muttered. This seemed less of a fight and more like an extravagant event, an entertaining show. He shook his head, turning back to Kaidou. The man had reached out, running his fingers through the flame, not even protected by haki, leaving him unmarked.

“No one in, only the victor leaves.”

“Seems like you can leave any time you want,” Oden stated. It seems there was a method to the loopholes. Kaidou promised him a one-on-one uninterrupted fight and did deliver it. Oden was trapped here with Kaidou; Kaidou was not trapped in here with him.

“Well, yes. King’s flames are a part of him, and he is loyal to me,” Kaidou stepped away from them, shouldering his war club. “I will keep to the rules. A one-on-one fight, with no interruptions.”

“My men?”

“Well, they are going to have to fend for themselves. Don’t you have faith in them fending my men off till your victory?” Kaidou questioned. “The flames should block us from view, to make sure they are not a distraction.”

“I have fate in them, in the same way I have fate that I will take you head,” Oden stated. He drew his swords, holding them at ready as he approached the other. They circled. Oden watched Kaidou’s tail flex, the scales rippling, giving a dry rattling noise. He narrowed his eyes, flickering up to his hips, watching them flex and danced back, ducking under the swing of the kanabo.

Oden pounced, jumping on top of the kanabo and using it as a foot hold to push off, swinging his swords down in a strong downward sweep. Sparks showered him as the blade skidded off the scales. Not strong enough. He swung his feet forward, jumping off the arm and landed with a grunt.

Kaidou’s hide was thick, the scales like armor plate. Oden jumped back, running to the side to get some space as Kaidou moved, ducking under the swing of his tail. He could taste Enma blood lust, the sword thrumming in his hand. He would have to keep an eye on the tail, it was a second weapon and easily doubled Kaidou’s reach.

He ran forward, keeping low, sliding beneath the swing of the war club, and twisted, running along Kaidou’s tail as it shifted to blocked him. Kaidou was using the extra limb more of a shield than a weapon, herding him away from vulnerable openings. Like a whip, Oden realized, listening to the air crack as the appendage snapped forward, forcing him to jump away. Dirt showered him, thrown out from the force.

Oden landed, panting slightly, eyes narrowing. The ring favored Kaidou, the enclosed space meant that he was exerting himself less and his reach was more advantage. The flames cast a warm glow against his back, his clothing starting to stick to his skin from sweat. Oden swiped his sleeve over his face, clearing sweat from his eyes as they circled. The fire made Kaidou’s scales glow, the ivory of his horns nearly golden and sweat had just started to track down his chest.

The only thing he could hear was the beat of his own heart and blood, the crackling of the flames, and slight sound of Kaidou’s clawed feet hitting the earth. He blew out a breath. Focus, focus. Oden sprung to action, racing across the ground and met the swing of the club head on. His swords caught it with a shower of sparks, momentarily frozen as they pressed for advantage.

Oden twisted using the swing to vault himself higher into the air. He turned midair, hand reaching out to snag one of the tall horns to correct his trajectory and brought both swords down in a vicious downwards swing in an attempt to pierce Kaidou’s dominate hand.

The balls of his feet landed on the scaled wrist as he pressed down and barely scratched the surface, not enough. Oden twitched, dodging to the left as flames filled the spot he had left. He landed, light on his feet as he ran, the flame following him till Kaidou had to take a breath, breaking off the attack.

Impressive, his instincts murmured, a flare of respect filling him as he started down the oni. Oden laughed, swiping his hair out of his face as they returned to circling. He licked his lips, blocking the slash of the war club, meeting the volley of blows with parries of his own. His alpha was roused, interest peaked as the broke apart.

They were nearly equal in power, in force. Kaidou had more power in his swings and more weight to back him up, but Oden had the skill and expertise to parry them. He skidded to a stop, correcting his weight, and balanced on the uneven ground, Kaidou’s claws had torn up the arena. Clever, his alpha murmured, a hint of regret coloring his thoughts. Oden shook his head, pressing the thoughts down. Focus. This was not a dominance fight; this was a means to an end. Oden would have no responsibilities to take in Kaidou’s men, no claim on his land and titles. This was merely to recover what he had lost.

He jumped back into the fray, swing faster, pushing for more speed, more swings, more precision where he struck. Oden grinned, sharp and blood thirsty as they parted messily, skidding, and rolling as he stopped panting. Kaidou’s swings were a tad wide, a little bit slower. He was starting to leave openings as Oden pressed him more and more.

Kaidou was big, and heavy, with the advantage of reach but he wasn’t a finesse fighter. His movements were clear and easy to tell, depending more on brutally then any actual skill. He was used to destroying his enemies in a few blows. Oden could win this. He was faster, accurate and precise and all he had to do was keep this up.

He let out his breath, relaxing his shoulders. Just a bit longer, they just had to hold on a little while longer. Oden breathed in, focusing his core, pulling on his ryou as he fell into a stance he had been holding on for this moment. It was time to see if his practice would bear fruit. He ducked the swing of the club, jumping over the sweep of the tail, feet light as he moved closer and closer before jumping, hot red ryou filling his swords as he screamed out his war cry. Wano’s war cry for victory and freedom.  

“Paradise Totsuka,” he bellowed, feeling the scales open beneath the blades, the hot splash of blood in his face. Oden landed, whirling quickly on his feet, flicking his swords clean of blood. It had been too shallow, he had cut, but not deep enough. Not fatally.

He bared his teeth, ryou gathering in a storm of gold and red as he investigated the wound. Wide slashes decorated Kaidou’s chest, spilling blood down his warm brown skin, staining his pants as it pooled. Decent but not deep enough, surface damage.  Kaidou face had twisted in surprise, orange pupils dilating wide and black.   

“So, you do bleed,” he taunted, shifting on his feet as he started to move, narrowing down the gap between them. Kaidou was breathing a bit more rapid, eyes darting frantic. Not quite panic stricken, but agitated, Kaidou scent had built into something heavy and sticky, little lightening sparks gathering in the air. Oden laughed, wild and exuberated in his coming triumph.

Now, this was his chance. Oden exhaled and pushed himself forward, ryou crackling in a storm around him as he jumped, rising about the swing of the tail and nearly ran into the thrown kanabo. He jumped off the spinning war club, momentum lost and confused and rapidly brought up his swords as Kaidou sprung at him, full body tackling him in the dirt.

Blood drenched him, hot and sticky as his sword ripped through something blindly. Oden kicked against Kaidou’s chest, attempting to smack into the wound as he struggled to escape the sudden pressing weight. He didn’t have the leverage to slash with his weapons, and the hot press of Kaidou’s skin trapping his legs between thick heavy thighs was like an iron band. This was not how it was supposed to end.

Oden grunted as Kaidou head butted him, stars exploding behind his eyes at the force, blood flooding his mouth, choking him. Oden spat it out, wheezing, meeting a glowing enraged eye and a mouthful of serrated fangs as Kaidou hissed, scales rattling over his body and groaned as that armored skull slammed against his again. The scent of the storm was choking, pressing on parts of his brain that were usually silent.

Shit, he weakly attempted to push aside Kaidou’s face, fumbling through the pain to find some leverage to pull himself out of the grapple. Clawed fingers gripped him, encircling his ribcage as he was pressed fully down into the torn-up dirt. Oden shifting his face away as he felt the man’s breath against his skin, wet and humid and shuddered as sharp fangs gently pressed into his skin. His instincts slammed up in alarm, flooding his body with hormones as his alpha forced his submission.

Oden shuddered, limp and placid beneath the oni’s teeth as his shoulder was caught between Kaidou’s mawl. He winced as teeth bite down just hard enough to draw blood, venom oozing into the wounds. Blood and adrenaline rushed in his ears, head pulsing in time with his heartbeat, a steady beat of pain and dizziness.

He blinked back spots, freezing as that burning eye started him down, as Kaidou snarled around his shoulder, a thick throaty primal sound pulling deep in his chest. Submit and survive, his alpha pressed, triggering an involuntary release of his bladder.  Oden whined, submissively wetting himself in an attempt to appease the feral dominate predator.

Teeth loosened, drawing away and a hot wet tongue swiped over the wounds as if awarding his surrender. The clawed hand pressed him further into the dirt, Kaidou’s lip pulling back as he snarled and then roared, warning him to behave.  Oden let his head roll to the side, revealing his vulnerable neck, wincing as Kaidou nuzzled him, smearing venom against his skin, the unnaturally red liquid staining his throat.

~                                                                                               ~                                                                                      ~

The scent of pure primal submission sunk into the dragon’s nostrils, curling up through his brain and momentarily overriding the aggressive need to subjugate the small alpha that had caused him mind numbing pain. The dragon grumbled, pulling back, tipping his head as it looked over his prey. His host was fighting to take control, over his sudden shock and pain of the injury. They were both angry, the pain a steady red-hot brand making it hard to think.

The dragon pushed, pulling them from two legged till four, long and sinuous and easier for him to remain in control. Agony ran through his body, sheering into the delicate scales of his face, over his chest. He snarled, fighting to keep consciousness, and hissed as he felt his host grab and bully himself into awareness. The dragon huffed, relenting. He could watch as they fully dominate the submitting alpha, drowning out the harsh chemical smell with their natural scent.

‘Fuck no, you are not pissing on Oden,’ Kaidou hissed, gripping the reigns. He pulled control back, before they could do something truly filthy, wrestling with the primal bestial want to fully claim the man in the most basic primal way. He let out a hissing breath, eye focusing on the man pinned beneath him. The soft column of his throat was bare, smeared with their venom, a bright unnatural cherry red that would stain the pale skin.

The beast purred, settling in his mind at the clear mark of their claim. The skin would be stained and carry their scent, that ozone and storm would clinging to Oden for months in remembrance of this fight. Kaidou twitched, ears swiveling forward at the lack of sound. He twisted, wincing at the strain in his muscles, the pull on the raw wound that sent sparks pulsing behind his head.

The flames were gone. They were exposed and injured and their tiny little mate was not properly claim… no, Oden was not their mate. Kaidou hissed, scales bristling at the scent of hundreds of other alphas. Some were his, he could smell his claim on them but not all and they could challenge him, take away his delicate little prize.

Warm leather filled his nose, oil used to preen feathers, and their claim mark. Kaidou settled slightly watching their second approached, slowly removing his leather gloves and talking calmly. He could not make out the words, the pain and the press of his instincts drowning out everything other than the tone. He hissed in warming as the man moved towards him, hunching over the sweetly submitting prize.

King, that was King. Kaidou could pick up the scent of globemallows and sun touched wild honey, citrusy and sweet rolled in fresh rain from the pack claim. His lover, and second in command; he could share his prize with him. A second scent chased it, brown sugar, and cloves, female beta and with a proper pack claim, a bite of electricity tangled in it. Tension bleed from his body, and he shifted back curling up a little bit away from Oden.

She needed to be able to see. He couldn’t remember why, but something niggle in his mind that it was important. He grumbled, trying remember. King was near him, a hand reaching out to run tenderly over his scales, voice soft and gentle. Kaidou blinked, rumbling as he tried to focus. This was important, he needed to understand.

“Transform,”

Kaidou licked his fangs, grimacing at the idea. Vulnerable. He did not want to be vulnerable, could not afford it with his injuries and his little mate… not mate. His instincts were too strong in this form, he shifted bones cracking and popping as he shed his scales and horns till, he was hunched over, panting heavily in pain. King reached up, hands gently pressed against his face, thumb stroking his cheek. Careful and fond.

“There we are. Just breathe for me, in and out. Nice and relax.”

Kaidou hummed faintly, trying to gather his thoughts over the press of his instincts and the seemly unending pain that was just an aggravating them, triggering a cycling loop. He snarled, hissing as something small and sharp bit into his thigh.

“Shush, it is okay sir. You will feel better after the ketamine has a chance to work.”

Wait, wait he knew that one… Ooh Kaidou slumped as the pain began to numb, slipping slightly as things began to smooth and soften. That felt rather good. He could feel King moving him about, easing him down and gave a grumpy noise as he was put on his back. Vulnerable.

He attempted to sit up and huffed, feeling something prick him again and gave a soft confused little rumble, settling down as the citrus honey scent flooded his senses, someone gently gathering his hair from his face.

Voices were talking, rapid chatter back and forth as he just sort of floated. Pleasantly dazed, he hummed, attempting to focus. Red curling hair caught his attention, bright and springy and right by his eye as he focused on it, blinking slowly. Eliza, that was right. Eliza and King and he could faintly hear them now in starts and stops. Something open globe, something hemorrhaging, blah blah. He winced, feeling something prod at his skin. It was tight and he could dully feel a pulse of pain.

More chatter, something cold and hard was pressed against his check and brow. It stung faintly. A hand pulled the band back, fastening it in place. “Eliza…. Back to camp.” Kaidou attempted to focus, enough to reply.

“Back… to camp?”

“Yes, come on sir,” He hummed slightly, allowing King to prompt him up and staggered to his feet. Kaidou pressed against the other, basking in the warmth. “You’re hot,” he muttered, resting his chin against his shoulder. “I like that.”

“I know, and you are high on ketamine and need to focus on just walking.”

Chapter Text

Toki smiled, wistfully watching her children cleanup for dinner. Hiyori was bossily showing Kaidou’s youngest son where to wash his hands. She wished her children had not hidden such a crucial development from her. Perhaps, still early in Orochi’s reign, she could have approached Kaidou not as Oden’s wife, but as a parent. Attempt to appeal to him as an equal.

To let their children be able to develop their friendship in the open, and not by sneaking behind her back. To have met when there was still a possibility of peace and change. Not to be offered a sliver of hope by a teenager. Tension was a knife edge, a swinging pendulum between anxiety and hope. She wanted her husband to live. She wanted her citizens to be free, to not suffer.

She did not want to sit down that young boy, teasingly splashing her daughter, and explained that Kaidou was dead. She did not want to sit her children down and explain that their father was dead.  Toki sighed, stepping away and headed back up to the conference room. It was simple, she mused as she walked into the room, to think your enemies as an object to destroy when all you see is their cruelty.

Sasaki had drifted off during Yasuie’s lessons. The teenager cheek was pressed against the table, Yasuie’s coat draped over his back.  He roused slightly, a sliver of sea tone blue peering out blurrily before shutting close as he shifted into a more comfortable position. The room smelled of sage cypress, and citrus and beneath that was a smooth rich scent, rising over the scent blocker. Mature pup, just on the cusp of presentation and deeply vulnerable.

The two were an odd juxtaposition of siblings. Sasaki was clearly cared for; his clothes were neat and clean. His hair was a bit wild, but soft, and well brushed. He was surprisingly educated, having kept up with Yasuie’s lessons and offering thoughtful insights. The contract had been well written, even in the simple form of hiragana. The oldest was an odd mix of roughness and shiny polish. Not what she expected from a child of Kaidou. Toki could see opportunities, to gently push him along different paths. He needed more polish, a bit more confidence, a chance to be something other then what he was born into. Oden had been that to his men, an inspiration to make more for themselves and to rise beyond their beginnings.

He wasn’t a diplomat yet, but Toki could remember when it would not have been an oddity to have an omega in such position. When she was young and snuck out of her home to watch Hiroko wrestle in sumo, the female omega had been a rising star and now she couldn’t find records of her victories. She had chosen part of Hiyori name from her, wanting her daughter to have just a measure of that strength and ambition.

Yamato was more what she expected for a child of pirates. His hair was a bit greasy and had not been properly brushed. His clothes were worn in spots. He spoke the language decently if a bit rudely and constantly seemed to be sticky. It could be the difference in their ages, their heritage, or dynamics but Yamato was a terribly sweet if blunt child who had a hint of neglect.

“Sweet heart,” Toki said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “It is about time for dinner.”

He sighed, one eye opening and glanced at her before flushing brightly. “Ahh..” He shifted, swiping a hand over his mouth, siting up. “I hadn’t meant to doze off.”

“It is alright,” Toki soothed, this close to his presentation must be exhausting. “I do not mean to alarm you, but your scent blockers are starting to fade.”

He blinked, pausing to take a breath, and groaned. “F…fudge,” he said finally, strangling the swear for her sake. “Is it going to be an issue?”

“That depends if you are comfortable taking dinner with my family, or would prefer a private room?” Toki questioned taking a seat beside him. “There is no wrong choice; I will not be offended if you desire a bit of privacy.”

“I’m not ashamed of my dynamic,” he said, voice cracking slightly at the pitch and flushed bright. “I’m not covering it because of mmh shit, I can’t figure out how to make this not sound stupid,” he grumbled, covering his face with a moan. “Dinner,” he said, lifting a hand up, eyes just peeking out behind the fringe of his hair. “With your family and Yam’s would be fine. Thank you, for your invitation.”

“You are welcome,” Toki replied, hiding her smile at his antics behind her sleeve. So, flustered. “I am sure your sibling will be excited for you to join him.” She gracefully stood. “Do you want a moment to freshen up?” She offered.

“Please, I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“None of that, it is no trouble to wait a few minutes.” Toki left the room, giving the teen a few moments to collect himself. She sighed, tipping her head back. How had this become her life? Reassuring the children of her enemy. Waiting for word on the life or death of her husband. She would have to get a room prepared for them. Hopefully they would have word soon.

She stepped away from the wall, composing herself. Steady. She had not volunteered to be the sole parental guidance for four children, but she would manage. Toki nodded as Sasaki stepped out, Yasuie haori folded neatly over his arms. “This way.” She led him down to the dinning room.

“Take a moment to wash up.” Toki directed him to the wash bowl, and continued into the dinning room. “Momonosuke be polite to our guests. Yamato sit down, properly.” Toki calmly took control of the squabbling children, taking a moment to smooth out Hiyori’s hair. “Dinner will be served in a moment.”

She waited for Sasaki to take his seat before taking the head of the table. “Itadakimasu,” she said, hands gently clasped together. She could hear three of them repeat it, and Sasaki carefully coaching his younger brother in the pronunciation.

Toki carefully picked up the bowl of white rice and her chopsticks, taking the first bite and starting the meal. It was simple but filling. The children were excited, cheerfully talking about the horse, the food, various snacks. Sasaki calmly breaking up things or steering the conversation whenever Yamato and Momonosuke got out of hand.

She could see this being her life. Four children instead of two, the steady bantering between her sons, the excitement in her daughter as she ganged up on her brother. Toki wished Oden was with her. She held in a sigh, picking up her tea cup instead. She sipped the hot liquid, eyes shutting, mediative. One day at a time. She would get the children settled first and hopefully Yasuie contacts would have news of some sort.

~                                                                          ~                                                                                                     ~

Sasaki sighed, restless as he laid on the borrowed futon. He had fucked up, so much and it was frustrating. He could have packed the vials, the small glass containers were not as fragile as they looked. He didn’t even need to bring them all, he had extras and could have simply filled one with his custom blend. They would have fitted in the pack. He had planned on the possibility of revealing it if he needed to, depending on initial hostility. He hadn’t planned on being there so long. Or falling fucking asleep during an important fucking meeting.  

That was probably the biggest screw up. Thinking that this could be an easy in and out. He blew out his breath, sighing before rolling on his stomach, pressing his face in the futon. It smelt sterile, faintly of sun, rushes, and cotton. The blankets and borrowed sleep robe were the same. Smelled of soap, cloth, and faintly of dried flowers from storage. There was nothing personal to the smell.

Something about it was just off-putting. He sighed, giving up on any attempt of sleeping. Sasaki tugged the borrowed robe close and slid open the shoji door to sit on the engawa. The room assigned to him faced a small koi fish pond, most of the engawa had been enclosed with the cooling of the season. A small section was open, enough to sit down and moon watch for a while.

It was bright, nearly full, and high. He swung his bare feet over the edge, basking in the pale cold light as his eyes adjusted. It was a pretty, little pond, and the air was clean and crisp speaking of good management. He could faintly make out one of the koi as the fish broke the surface, chasing a meal.

“Sasaaaakkkkkiiii”

“Yams?” He questioned, surprised as he heard the patter of feet running on the wood and the sudden sliding and opening of the shoji doors. “Don’t break TOKI’S HOUSE, YAMS.” He yelled out, wincing at the thud of a door being over enthusiastically slammed. What was Yamato doing down here? Last he knew, his sibling had settled down in Hiyori room for a sleep over.

The door across from the pond flew open on the track, revealing his younger brother and both Hiyori and Momonosuke behind him. “There you are!”

“Why are you not sleeping? You are going to wake everyone up,” Sasaki moaned, letting out a sigh as his little brother scamper down from the engawa and ran across the courtyard. “Watch out for the pond!” He yelled, pushing off the platform to snag his brother by his borrowed clothing before he could face plant into the pond. “Yams, please.”

“Tell him it is true!” Yamato called, squirming in his brother’s grip.

“Tell who what is true?” Sasaki questioned, tired. “Hiyori. Momo, stay there,” he called, tossing Yamato over his shoulder, and clambered back up onto the covered deck. “I’ll come to you.” He walked around the engawa, meeting up with the two siblings.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” Momonosuke demanded, stamping one little foot.

“Did you really eat a monster?” Hiyori asked, pushing up on her toes. “Yamato said you ate a monster and it had eight arms!”

“Yams what the heck have you been telling them?” Sasaki asked, looking down at his grinning brother. “You know what, this can wait. Come along, children. Let’s take this to my room before we wake up the entire household.” He herded them back to his room, sliding the door shut and plopped his brother down on the futon. “Okay, Yamato? What is going on.”

“We were telling stories, and I told them about the squid that reached out of the depth and then cracked the boat in half, like this!” Yamato held his hands up, clenching them, before making a breaking motion. “And dragged people down to the depths to eat them.”

“The Kraken,” Sasaki corrected. “That was a Kraken.” He had been six, when that event had happened. And it had been a small one, and a life boat, and all the men had lived. Yamato hadn’t even been born yet; it had been when they had started traveling to Wano. “We did eat it, we sliced it into thin pieces and fried it in bread crumbs.”

“Was it delicious?” Hiyori questioned.

“Some what rubbery. We dipped it in various sauces… so it was rather good.” Sasaki sat down, sprawling on his belly on the futon, ignoring his brother as Yamato started to play with his hair.

“Did it really break apart a ship?” Momonosuke questioned.

“A small life raft. No one died, though I think someone broke a leg?” He frowned, trying to remember that far back. “Things like that happen out in the grandline though. There are a lot of bigger monsters then that little Kraken.”

“Little? Like small enough to hide in our pond?” Momonosuke questioned, voice shaking.

“Mmh?” Sasaki glanced at Momo. There were multiple issues with a Kraken being in that pond, size, salinity, depth, food. “Sure,” he said, motioning the boy closer. “Want to see it?” He asked, sitting up. “I’m sure you are a brave man and can handle a little monster.”  

“I… I can handle anything,” Momo stuttered.

“I know you can,” Sasaki said, gently slapping Momo’s back as he led him to the door, sliding it open. “Now you see the pond? Focus on it, and I’ll point out the monster.”

“So there really is a monster in it!” Momo voice squeaked at the end, wobbling.

“Yup, now pay attention,” Sasaki held out his hand. “Now see that ripple?” He questioned, pointing out a slight shadow on the water. “It will take just a moment, one, two, and three,” he counted and the koi jumped to grab the moth and Momonosuke screamed in fright at the splash.

“Monster! There a monster in the fish pond!” Momonosuke fled back into the room. “It is going to eat us all! It is the Kraken.”

Sasaki pressed his lips together to keep his composer. He closed the slider, walking back to his room. “Relax, it can’t get you here,” he said.

“We’ll just eat it!” Yamato proclaimed. “I want to eat a Kraken toooo. Make it into squid chips and dip!”

“Well, I guess you could call it squid chips and dip,” Sasaki mused. “I thought you could handle a little monster. Momo.”

“I…I totally could!” Momonosuke replied, wavering slightly. “But…that would not be fair for it. So, we are going to stay here! And protect you!”

“Protect me hmm?” Sasaki chuckled. “Sure, you can protect me. But are you sure you want to all stay here? I am not sure we have enough room for everyone.” Toki had given him a futon and a stack of blankets.

“Sleepover!”

 “We can have a sleepover here!” Yamato said, excited.

“I guess you guys can claim the blankets.” Sasaki said, picking up the stack and brought them over to the futon. He spread them out around the futon before laying on it. “Pick a side and get cozy.” He grunted as Yamato flopped over his legs. “No, not on me Yams, you are heavy,” he groused.  

“Fine,” Yamato grumbled, sliding off. “No fun.”

“Yeah, I am no fun. Now all of you get ready to sleep,” Sasaki muttered, tugging a blanket up. The room now smelled like pups, and he could hear the soft muttering as they started to settle down to sleep. It was soothing, he sighed, slowly winding down. Familiar, he had shared a cabin with his father and King till Wano, and after that he had his own room but it was between his father’s and Yamato nursery. Someone had always been close by, and the smell of ozone and storms had been a constant comfort. He yawned, settling deeper into the futon and shut his eyes, dozing.

Chapter Text

Kaidou grunted, tongue dragging around his mouth before grimacing. Ugh, his mouth tasted like ass. He cracked an eye, blinking blurry. He was warm, reclining upright on something soft and he couldn’t remember how he got here. He shifted, wincing in pain as the simple moved tugged something sore and tight in his chest. Okay, that was a bad idea.

“Evening, Kaidou.”

He shifted, moving his head slowly till he could focus on the small woman sitting beside him. Wait… he blinked slowly, why was he only seeing out of one eye? His left side was just a sea of black. Hmmm, what was her name again? Her hair was bright red, and curling in tight springs. “Eliza?”

“Glad to see your wits are starting to come back? Shall I regale you with the last few hours?” She set down her pen, closing her book. “You were victorious against Oden. He is still alive, confined, and under watch with the five other vassals.”

“Thought there was supposed to be nine,” Kaidou muttered, wincing at the dryness in his throat.

“Orochi’s spy took the bait, and spirit away three of the others.” Eliza offered him a cup filled with something that smelled faintly citrusy.  “Drink it all,” she ordered.

Kaidou sipped the liquid, relaxing as the warmth of the tea and the taste of ginger and lemon cleansed the disgusting taste from his mouth. He drained the cup, and grudgingly accepted the refill pressed on him.

“Don’t give me that look, you lost a lot of blood. You need to rehydrate,” Eliza scolded, setting the tea pot to the side. “During the fight, Oden wounded you,” she continued. “You received two gashes to the chest, and then a slash to your face that bisected your eye. The pain made you feral, so I had Nel dart you with ketamine.”

“I don’t remember any of that?” He muttered, confused. Fighting Oden sounded familiar, and he could faintly recall pain and surprise. He might have bit him? That sounded about right.

“That would be the ketamine, it should become clearer in a few hours,” Eliza said. “King helped bring you back to the camp, and the ketamine must have been hitting you good. Because you gave a short victory speech, smashed the top of a beer keg, chugged it, stripped to your boxers, attempted to dance, and then threw up,” she listed. “Needless to say, it was a big hit with the men and they have been celebrating since.”

“That explains the taste…” And the lack of clothes. Kaidou sipped more of the tea, finishing off the cup.

“Salem said that was rather restrained for you. I am starting to believe him. I had King bring you to the medical tent, where you decided to pass out. Which I took as an opportunity to clean and stitch your wounds. King dragged you back to your tent, where I been watching your vitals for the last three hours to make sure you did not choke on vomit or stop breathing.”

“Hnnm,” he blinked, attempting to sort that out. Okay, he was not dead, he had been victorious, he still felt pleasantly buzzed and warm. His men were celebrating, he could hear them now that he was paying attention. Oden was still alive. He couldn’t see out of an eye. “What happened to my eye?”

“Full-thickness globe laceration, with subconjunctival hemorrhaging and bisected eyelid. Oden’s sword tore through your cheek, sliced through your sclera, cornea, and eyelid. I cleaned and stitched it close the best I could, but you are going to need an ophthalmologist to retain anything near full vision. As it is, and if you keep on the antibiotic drugs regime, you should regain the eye itself. You might have light and dark vision and maybe some motion detection.”

Kaidou shut his eye, lips pressed together as he contemplated the news. He could live with the loss of an eye. Oden had fought well, and the injury would remind him of the most exciting battle he had the pleasure of engaging in. “King?” He questioned, wondering where his partner was.

“He got called away to handle some idiots who set fire to their tent attempting to do something impressive with torches. Considering the chaos, I do believe he got caught up attempting to enforce some order.”

“Mmhm.”

“Do you feel any dizziness or nausea?”

“Mildly nauseated. The tea helped.”

“Double vision? After Images? Dark spots?” Eliza questioned.

“No.”

“Feverish or painful?”

“I feel warm?” Comfortably warm, Kaidou mused the heat was making him feel drowsy, and the drugs were still making him floaty and numb. “Only painful if I move. It pulled on my chest.”

“Sharp or dull? I didn’t feel any busted ribs, but they could be bruised. Maybe cracked,” Eliza muttered chewing on her lower lip before approaching. “Do you want to see your eye?”

He nodded, a short and careful motion. “Dull, it is tight and a slow hot pain.”

Eliza pulled out a round mirror, setting it on his lap. “You are wearing an eye shield, its solid so your eye will rest as it heals. It stays on when I’m not checking on the progress. Keep it on,” Eliza stressed. “But, to take it off, you reach up and gently peel off the tape from your skin and lift it away from your face. Do not roll it up, or down, pull it away from your face.”

Bossy. Kaidou reached up, carefully brushing against the hard material of the shield, and felt around with clumsy fingers until he could find the tape. He dug under the adhesive, puling the edges up and the shield away. The air was cool against his skin, and he blinked slowly, disoriented and a bit nauseated as he attempted to focus though the sudden burst of color. Red was the main one, bleeding in and out of the black and a bit of sharp sparkling white.

Kaidou picked up the mirror, holding it up in front of his face. Eliza stitch work was neat and tidy, black nylon thread running up his check, through his eyelid and up in his brow. The smaller stitches in his actual eye, nearly hidden by the unnatural red tint dying the white were unsettling. He waved a hand in front of his face. It disappeared into the cloud of black and red, just the faintest hint of movement, a shifting from light to dark.  

It was nauseating. Kaidou shut his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to ease the discomfort. He couldn’t tell if it was the drugs, the booze, or the change in his vision that was causing it. Kaidou gave a questioning grunt, as a cool small hand rested against his wrist.

“If you can lift me, I’ll reattach the shield. It is to remain in place for the next two weeks. Only to be removed to add eye drops every five to six hours to keep your eye lubricated.”

Kaidou wrapped his fingers around her, lifting her up to his shoulder. Her feet settled on his bare skin, and she set a hand against his check. “One moment,” She muttered, setting the shield down and started to wrap it in place. “Your antibiotic regiment is going to be administered intramuscularly every 12 hours or so for the next seven days. No bending down, no strenuous activities for at least the next two weeks.”

“I have things to do. I cannot lie in bed, Eliza.”

“I wish you would, but just go slow and steady. No running, no dead lifting, no bending. Keep your head as level as you can. Keep your alcohol consummation to a minimum. Absolutely no hard liquors, try to keep it under three.”

“That is barely,” He started and gave a slight grunt as she smacked him.

“Under three,” Eliza stressed, pulling the bandage taunt. “There. I could enforce none, but I know you won’t follow it.” She sat down, a cool wait on his shoulder, legs dangling to press into the flesh of his arm. It was unnerving to feel her but not see her.

“You can set me down, and I’ll go and find King… so he can help you put on some clothes.” She said. “I know you are warm, but you should put on something. And bring you a small dinner so you can attempt to sober up a bit.”

Kaidou helped her down. “Food?” He paused, thinking and gave a small noise of thought. “I could go for some food.”

“Probably miso soup or something similar. You need more liquids.” Eliza hummed slightly, looking over Kaidou one last time. “Your vitals are good; you are aware if a bit placid. In all, the drug side effects are very mild. Not bad for an estimated dose.” She said, scrawling down in her notes. “Do try to get more sleep, you are going to need it sir. I am going to get going now.”

“You do that,” He muttered, feeling himself drift slightly and yawned. It was warm enough he was starting to feel tired. Perhaps he could take a short nap.

~                                                                                 ~                                                                                        ~

“Who the hell approved this?” Eliza questioned, voice rising over the crowds’ jeers and catcalls. She frowned, barely getting a blip of acknowledgement from the press of bodies. Someone called for her to show her tits. She couldn’t place him, and she could hear Nel snickering to Thea about something behind her.  “Childish, the lot of you.” She elbowed the caller hard in his gut, stepping over him as he crumpled.

She stepped over him, walking over the churned dirt, turning into a sticky mud. The smell of cheap booze, barn animals, sweaty skin, and smoke nearly chocked out the faint scent of storms that had led her here. She frowned, looking over the goat pen. So, this was where they had been placed.  A nanny goat placidly baa at her before returning it gentle exploration of Oden’s hair.

“Who is in charge here?” She asked, tone dark as she took in the seastone handcuffs, fastened tight enough to bleach the skin of Oden’s wrists. He was still in his disgustingly bloody clothing, the blood on his skin dried and flaking. She looked over the pen, counting the samurai. All five vassals were contained to the pen, including a young female ninja she didn’t remember being part of Oden’s vassals.

They were all breathing, and the worst of the wounds had been bandaged, sloppily but none of them needed critical care. Humiliated, dirty, but alive and cleaner than she expected. For all the jeers and catcalls, none of them had been touched.

No fresh blood, no bodily fluids, no spilled drinks, or food. Eliza watched a drunk stumble to the gates, lifting a cup of booze as if to dump it onto the cat mink as their fellows incited them off and freeze. The scent of storms rose, harsh on her nose and pressing around them. The man laughed nervously, chugging the cup, and wandered off with their party to some good-natured ribbing.

That was and wasn’t Kaidou. Eliza glanced down at Oden, catching the steely glint in his eyes, the tight press of his mouth. Kaidou scent, but that earth trembling power was all Oden. Interesting. “Who is in charge here? I’m not going to ask again.” She wondered if any of them were still sober enough to remember. Eliza had seen enough tits and ass on her way here to doubt ninety percent of the crowd faculties.  

“Don’t be a buzz kill, join us Lizzy. Lizz,” A man slurred, clapping her on the back. “They’re right bastards but it fine.”

“It isn’t fine, this is bullshit.” Eliza lifted the hand from her person as if it was a particular disgusting piece of meat and dropped it. “Touch me again, Tommy, and I will make sure you don’t wake up this morning.” She sighed, pressing a hand against her face. King was with Kaidou; Kaidou was still high. Next in rank would fall to… “Salem, just handle this I don’t care how.” She muttered, exhausted and just done.

She had to sew up an eyeball, she was an EMT, she wasn’t supposed to be doing sutures. Kaidou was lucky his eye was large enough for her to stitch with the supplies she had at hand.

“But you were doing so well,” Salem replied.

“Handle it or I will murder someone and make you pay for the reimbursements,” she hissed.

“Ahh,” Salem said, amused and gently placed his hand on her shoulders. “Step back, I am likely going to need a bit of room.” He smiled, ignoring the drunk. “Let’s see here… ahh. Yahri, do you have the keys?”

“Thank the skies and seas,” Eliza muttered, leaning against the railing. Yahri was one of the more tolerable former captains and seemed just slightly buzzed then sloshed. Salem’s luck at finding the sole useful person in a crowd of idiots was exceptional. She glanced down at Oden. “So, you still concussed stupid or you feeling more coherent?”

“Pardon?” He questioned, blinking up at her.

“Nausea med seemed to have hit at least,” Eliza mused, leaning down to examine his pupils. Even and focusing on her, thank you deities, she didn’t want to attempt to trepan someone skull. “Anyhow, we are going to get you out of this inhuman place and to the bath tent. You stink.” Not just blood and sweat, but Eliza wasn’t going to break the beast pirates unspoken rule.

She paused, watching a man sail over the rail and land in the goat pen, the animals flee with panicked bleats. “Hnnnm, guess Salem actually ran into some trouble.” She shrugged it off, and looked back at Oden. “You do want a bath, right? Kaidou’s blood is flaking off you.”

 “I would appreciate a bath. My men’s safety?”

“They’ll come along with us. They also stink,” Eliza replied. She grinned slightly at Thea as she appeared with the keys, passing it to her. She ignored whatever ruckus had started behind her, turning to the cuffs. How did these work again, she traced over the smooth stone till she found the lock, sliding the key in and unlocked the cuffs. “Stand up, hands in front,” she ordered.

She watched him stand, looking for any signs of pain or instability. A smooth, clean rise. Eliza reached over, reattaching the cuffs, running her fingers underearth insuring two finger width of space. “Your hands might tingle and sting as the circulation returns.”

“Thank you.” Oden rubbed his hand and wrists, lips twitching slightly. “You are not afraid of me.”

“Mmh, nope,” Eliza said, unfastening the ninja and kept the cuffs. “Don’t know who you are, but you certainly aren’t this guy’s vassal. That correct?”

“She is not. I have never seen her before,” Oden stated.

“Cool, get the fuck out of here before they sober up. We are going to have enough issues with them. We don’t need extra baggage.” Eliza shoved the cuffs in her belt and went to unlock the next one in line.

“I…what?”

“You heard me sweetheart. I know you can understand me. Go free little ninja, for I have no more fucks to give and not going to deal with extras. Be free,” she waved her hands, snapping the cuffs back on, and doing the same thing. “Thea, if she not gone in the next minute I swear.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Come on, I’m sure Orochi going to want to know where you been. Imagine all thing things you can embellish in your report.”

“Wait, I.”

“Go, there is no place for you here,” Oden demanded.

“Thanks, I swear people should just accept a good thing when it happens. Don’t question it.” Eliza ran a robe through the cuffs, forming a chain. “Well come along then. You are all getting a bath and new clothing. Nel, go and find King so we have a proper place and guard to put them. Hopefully sober this time around.”

~                                                                           ~                                                                                           ~

Oden followed the assertive red hair woman though the camp, keeping his glaze focus on her back to keep from being overstimulated. The world was too loud; it made his skin feel tight and itchy as he ended up coiled up like a spring waiting for something. The makeshift bath had helped sooth his skin but did nothing for the built-up tension.

Just gave him more questions. The yukata was nothing special, just a simple yellow and orange cotton with some wear on the cuffs and helm. The sea stone had been exchanged for rope, and his hands had been skillfully bound behind his back. He strained against the binding, testing it. He could beak it, but then what.

Oden felt drained, still reeling from the treachery. One or more of his vassals had betrayed them. It was laying heavily on his chest, that he had harbored a spy for so long. They had been with him since the beginning, had helped him build up Kuri, and now he might die never knowing who or why they had turned to Orochi. Was, was he so naïve to be taken in twice? That one or more of his men had been working against him for years.

Ozone flooded his nose, the back of his hair standing on end as his instincts jerked awake as the smell of predator. As if crossing a barrier, the celebrating pirates avoided the ground they now walked, the chatter and celebration keeping to the outskirts as if the area was a holy sanctuary to not be trampled upon.

His guide never faltered, calm and steady as she led him pass a few serious face guards, and to a cluster of tents. The scent was strong here, undeniably Kaidou’s territory, his stench permeating the area. He followed them into the tent, looking up at Kaidou.

Oden’s eyes were drawn to the eye patch, a thrill running though him. You will remember me forever, he thought. Kaidou wore a simple blue shade cotton yukata, plain of any decoration and reclined on a pile of cushions. He had never seen Kaidou in traditional dress. He could smell blood, medicine, and sweat under the stormfront. Petty satisfaction warmed him as he stood under the tired gaze. You are just as much as a wreck as I am.

“Eliza…why is Oden in my tent?” Kaidou asked, voice dripping exhaustion.

“You messed up,” she said simply, and then brazen and suddenly before he could react, reached over and pushed Oden’s hair from his throat displaying the bright red stain. “So now you two get to talk about what this is going to forcibly shift your relationship as.” She let go, staring him down. “Without me. I don’t want to know about your sex life.”

“I need a drink,” Kaidou muttered, rubbing his face.

“Two, no hard liquor. Not two bottles, two cups,” Eliza replied. She hummed walking to his stash and pulled out a jug and then a pair of cups. “This. You two talk, fuck, whatever it is you need to do. I’m out.” She threw up her hands, walking out. “Bye.”

“What was that?” Oden asked, astound about what he just witnesses. She just bossed around Kaidou like it was nothing and then just brazenly and confidently left. He tipped his head, dragging his hair back over the mark wanting to ignore the stain on his throat a little bit longer. It was nothing. It was fine. His hands itched in the bindings wanting to cover it.

“Eliza is mmmh, ” Kaidou trailed off thoughtful. He sat up carefully, starting to set up the cups and pouring a measure of umeshu into each vessel. The smell of plum and apricots began to waft into the tent, sweet and a little bit tart. “I don’t stand much for ceremony. Her bluntness is refreshing and she backs it up.” He set the cup in front of Oden, picking up his own to slowly sip from it.

“She also brought up a good point. I hadn’t remembered that I marked you in that way, or as thoroughly.” Kaidou frowned, thoughtful as he traced the mark with his gaze making Oden hunker against his robe, shoulders rising in an attempt to hide.

He flushed, uncomfortable with the focus. He had spent enough time repeating the battle, the way the fangs had popped through flesh, the heavy hot weight against his body, pinning him close. Oden shook his head. No. “Your venom is nothing special. Nothing has changed.” He did not want to admit to how the scent was interlaced with his haki.

“A lot has changed,” Kaidou replied, setting his cup down firmly and reached down, pushing the hair away from it. “But it is late, and I don’t want to do this tonight.” He picked up the second cup, holding it out to Oden. “Drink. I doubt you want to be sober.”

Oden hissed, not wanting anything offered by Kaidou yet the weight of being sober was heavy and exhausting. He set his lips against the lacquered cup, letting Kaidou tip it so he could drain the sweet plum wine. He nodded as Kaidou lifted the bottle and then refilled it, letting him drain a second. His cheeks had flushed from the forced intimacy, the rope pressure against his arms a reminder of his position. He froze as Kaidou ran the pad of his thumb against his mouth, cleaning his face from dribbles.

“Better,” Kaidou said, pushing a cushion out of the pile with his bare foot. “Sit. Your hair is a mess, I’m going to fix it.”

Oden knelt, smoothly settling into formal seiza style. He looked at Kaidou and licked his lips, tasting a wine and salt. “Wait… you are going to do what?” He questioned. He must have misheard.

Kaidou poured himself another cup, standing slowly, clearly favoring his ribs as he walked about, pulling out a set of ivory combs. “Fixing your hair.” He said, draining his cup and cleaned it, leaving it behind as he slowly sat behind Oden, running a hand though his hair. “It is a mess.”

Oden slumped slightly, feeling the hot-blooded muscular form against his back, thick thighs boxing him in, keeping him trapped. Kaidou hands were sort of soothing as they combed through his hair. His head hurt and his reactions were slow, and Kaidou was fixing his hair. Oden let out a soft wheeze of laughter, eyes shutting. “You are getting over familiar,” he said. He couldn’t tell if that was the venom pressing down at his instincts, the booze, or the fact he was just exhausted that he was allowing this. “Two cups of wine and you are drunk,” he added, wanting to prod him.

“Mmh, it might be the drugs,” Kaidou muttered behind him. “You are not much better. You could snap that rope but here you are, being a proper prisoner.”

“Don’t…I fuck, I’m not drunk enough for this.” Oden wished he could have drowned the entire bottle, not just two small cups. That was nothing. He blinked as the brushing stopped, glancing back to see Kaidou offering the bottle. “Might as well drink up. Tomorrow going to be a mess.”

“Untie me and give me the bottle,” Oden replied, and sighed, accepting the lip of the bottle held to his lip and chugged. He finished the bottle, pulling back and snarled as Kaidou touched him again, the comb sliding though his hair and thick finger hands started to gather it into a simple tail. “This is undignified.”

“Perhaps.” Kaidou finished tying up his hair in a surprisingly neat tail. He stood, walking to the pile tugging out a blanket and a pile of cushions. Oden blinked as Kaidou knelt, snapping the rope binding his hands. “Get comfortable. We’ll figure out shit tomorrow.”

“You want me to sleep here… and not strangle you?” Oden questioned, rubbing his arms as he watched Kaidou sink back into the pile of cushions.

“Do you even have the energy to?” Kaidou questioned, shifting slightly till he was comfortable. He reached over, blowing out the lantern. “Go to sleep Oden. Tomorrow is going to be a shit show.”

Oden stood soundless in the gloom, eyes adjusting before letting out a breath. He shifted the cushion into something familiar, tugging the blanket over his shoulder. The lack of light was soothing on his headache. He would just rest his eyes, for a little bit.

Chapter Text

Sasaki blinked blurrily, the borrowed robe sliding over his shoulders as he propped himself up from the messy nest of blankets covering his futon. The moon was still out, a sliver of bright light spilling over him from the cracked door. Yams was still asleep, sprawled over his feet in a mess of limbs. Hiyori was close to him, sprawled out on her back. Momo… hmm. He yawned, jaw cracking slightly as he sighed. No wonder he was awake.

He blinked, rubbing his eyes at the sight of Momonosuke standing beside his bed, shuffling his feet and lip wibbling. “What… don’t tell me you had an accident kid,” he muttered. “Or that you need to pee or something, you are old enough to go by yourself.” He could not smell ammonia, or feel any wet spots.

“It… it isn’t that.”

“Then go back to sleep kid, it like dark out. Go the fuck to sleep.” He grumbled, slipping back into the pile of blankets.

“No. There is something out there,” Momo hissed, grabbing at his arm. “You got to get up. Something bad is happening.”

“What could possibly be happening,” Sasaki grumbled, carefully slipping his limbs from beneath Yams, rubbing at his calf as it tingled half asleep from the weight of the pup. Yamato grumbled before turning, snuggling back in the covers. “If it is about the Kraken, there is nothing in the pond. I was messing with you.”

“I… I am ordering you to go out there and check,” He hissed, stomping his bare foot petulantly, cheeks puffing with air. “I am Momonosuke, heir of Oden and you will listen to me.”

“Rather sure my dad outranks yours,” Sasaki drawled, flexing his toes and legs and purposedly settled deeper in his nest. “You are too big to be hearing monsters, Momo.”

“Ughh, you are sooo.. soo frustating,” Momo whined. “Get up, now. Come on.”

Sasaki rolled his eyes, reaching out to pull some of the blankets over his head to block out the pup and froze at heavy thud that shook the castle. “What the fuck,” he proclaimed, leaving the bed to walk to the hallway, ignoring Momo hisses of “I told you!” He slid the shoji door open, peering out.

One of the staff, hastily armed ran past him heading toward the conflict he could faintly hear floating up the steps. “Momo, shut up,” he hissed, shoving the pup back into the room as the pup attempted to squirm out. He didn’t need the pups underfoot if this turned into a fight. Shit, what the heck was going on? Sasaki sighed, snagging Momo by his juban and shut the door. “Really kid?”

“I want to see! Put me down!” Momo snapped, kicking his feet. “This is undignified!”

Sasaki groaned, gently tossing the pup down with the others and dragged his hands down his face. Fuckkkk. He ignored the general chattering coming from the pile of pups as they woke.

Alright, they were getting raided. The moon was still high so the path and its abilities were still open. Sasaki slid the shoji door open, letting the light spill into the room as he shushed the kids. “Everyone needs to be quiet, please.” Where was the strongest point of light. Okay, the engawa would be the best place to cast the night mirage. His scent was strong, overpowering the pups. He could leave the nest in the corner.

“Alright, everyone up and onto the engawa,” Sasaki ordered, grabbing his clothing and shooed them out onto the covered walkway. He laid the kimono down, sat the pups on it, and covered them with the haori as a blanket.

“What is going on?” Hiyroi questioned, clinging to her brother.

“Looks like we are getting raided. Now I’m going to need you all to be very quiet for this to work.” Sasaki joined them, taking the last corner of the kimono, his legs spread out beside them, tail curling over their laps. He tossed the thin linen juban over the top of them, pulling it over his head.

“You can’t just expect us to hide like this. This is stupi..” Sasaki slapped a hand over Momo’s mouth, cutting him off as the door to the room began to slide open. Sasaki took a deep breath, reaching out and pulled on the moonlight. We are not here, nothing is here, just moonlight and shadows. Slow deep breaths, relax and trust in the moon. He could see the traces of the light spark in the cloth, encompassing it in a steady soft glow. Fuck, that was close.

Men stepped into the room. One wore the leather uniform of his father’s men, the leather so new it creaked, the other two were oniwabanshu. One of them wore a nearly overpowering plum blossom perfume. It filled the space, the floral scent harsh on his nose, cloying and bitter. Two of them argued in the door way, before leaving back into the hallways.

Sasaki tighten his grip on the young prince, feeling him tremble against him as the remaining oniwabanshu walked closer to them. Small hands gripped his tail, fingers pulling at the strands as Hiyori buried her face into it. Yamato was still, his eyes seeming to glow in the moonlight caught in the cloth. His younger brother laid a hand on Hiyori back, comforting her as he kept his eyes on the man. Sasaki pat Momonosuke shoulder gently to comfort the kid.

“I was certain I heard something.” The man was bleeding, leaving behind small crescents of blood staining the tatami mats. His kimono had fresh blood stains, hair wild and unkept, and he was favoring a foot. Sasaki looked at the tabi sock, watching blood ooze out of the cotton, soaking the zori thong. The man looked rough. Had he stumbled onto some bandits on the road? Who would even think of attacking one of Orochi’s oniwabanshu?

The man knelt, digging though the blankets, holding a piece to his face to smell it. Ughhh. Pervert. Sasaki bristled slightly, stomach turning as the ninja dug around. He bit the inside of his cheek, strangling down his anger. Calm and steady. No need to catch his attention. There was nothing in that nest that could betray them.

Sasaki gave a startled jerk as the ninja stabbed though the futon, the blade sinking though the tatami mats to nick the wood beneath. “The scent is fresh and the blankets are still warm, where could the little omega have gotten too.”

Way to be a creep dude. Sasaki held his breath, motioning the kids to do the same as the man came closer to the engawa. The man lingered in the door way, his plum blossom perfume was overwhelming, almost overpowering the smell of gunpowder, and soot. It clogged Sasaki nose. Did he bath in it? The man stepped out, blood leaking on the hard wood. Sasaki looked up, seeing the white of the man’s eyes. He tightened his grip on the kids, holding as still as possible.

The man stepped out fully on the deck, foot nearly touching the edge of the juban that held the spell in place. “I can smell them out here. Such a rich scent…they must have just presented.” The man inhaled, breathing deep.

Gross. Sasaki lip curled in disgust as the man snuffed about them like some sort of beast. His fingers twitched, wishing for the familiar feeling of his tanto’s braided hilt and the comforting weight of the long blade. Keep calm. He could feel the pups trembling, the rapid beating of their heartbeats against his skin. It was clear the man didn’t have haki. He was just trying to spook them out. Let alone smell him under all that floral perfume and gunpowder.

He watched the men lean over, peering down the halls before slowly retreating into the main room. Sasaki let out a breath of relief, watching the pervert limp away. Get the fuck out. He let out his breath as the man finally stepped out in the man hallway, slumping. That was too close.

 “What did you do… he, he didn’t see us.” Momo proclaimed, voice low and shock.

“It’s a moon blessing,” Sasaki slowly removed the juban, setting it over his shoulder, the white linen gleaming silver with power. “We’re lucky. The moon is full and high enough the light can still reach us.” He coaxed them to their feet. Alright. What now. Returning to the room was out, it was too close to the fighting.

“Hiyroi? Where is your mother?” He asked gently, running his hand under the kimono collar to coax out his Denden. Toki had his blade and between being a daughter of a daimyo Oden’s wife she would know how to fight and have some serious guards near her. He slipped the snail in the collar of his borrowed clothes. “If you or Momo could lead us to her room?”

“I can do that,” Hiyori said, standing up straighter. She gave a firm little nod, reaching up to grab Yamato’s hand. “It’s this way,” she said, pointing to the left hall. “We just have to go around.” She frowned. “Momo where are you going?”

“What?” Sasaki twisted, glancing where he had left the brat and sighed. “Momo what are you doing get out of there,” he hissed, seeing Momo trying to peek out into the main hall. He was saying something, too low to hear. This kid was going to be the death of him. Fuck. Leave him. Focus on the actual kids you can help first.

Sasaki tossed the juban over Hiyori and Yamato, pulling the sleeves in front of them. “Cross the garden, it will be faster. This is only temporary blessed; it should muffle your steps when you leave the light but it will only hide you from sight if you are in the moon light.” The moon could warp and reflect, it did not create. It simply borrowed. “I’ll be right behind you, after I get Momo.”

“Your brother is going to be fine, Hiyori,” he said, tone serious, setting a hand over her head. “Promise. But I need you to both go.”

“Alright,” Hiyori said, stealing herself. “We’ll go.”

“Okay,” Yamato replied, simple and confident. He grinned at Hiyori connecting their pinkie together. “I’ll protect Hiyori and she leads.” His little brother stepped off the engawa and helped Hiyori down so they could cross the courtyard.

Okay those two were going to be fine.

He turned, quickly crossing the room to catch up with Momo who had stepped into the hall. Where had the fraidy cat gone. He bristled, smelling blood and meat, overpowering the smell of rotten plum blossoms. Something smelled like a slaughter house. “Momo what are you doing, we have to go.” This was not safe. He grasped the kid’s shoulder, pulling him back into the room.

~                                                                                         ~                                                                                           ~

“Father?” Momonosuke questioned to himself, hearing his name being called. He let go of Sasaki sleeve, carefully avoiding the prints of blood as he crossed the tatami mats. He shivered, clutching his arms as he followed the voice towards the hall way and took a deep breath looking into the hall.

Blood splattered the walls, a still form crumpled against the floor, red spilling out dying the floor boards. Momo squeaked, hand clasping over his mouth as he looked up and froze at familiar orange kimono clad figure standing over them. “Father,” he questioned, stepping closer and squeaked as a hand grabbed his shoulder and violently pulled him in.  

“Let me go!” He squirmed in the steady grip, trying to twist away. He kicked, struggling. “That was my father out there.” Let him go! “Unhand me!”

“Momo that was not your dad. Calm down.”

“Sasaki?” He blinked, looking up at the frowning teenager. “Put me down this instance! That is my father out there. I need to go to him.” Did Sasaki really think he could not recognize his own father? He kicked, nearly falling as he was set on the matting. He knew who that was. He knew that orange kimono and the moon emblems. He knew those blue circle patterns in a field of white. Momonosuke knew his own father.

“Momonosuke is that you, my darling son?”

“Father!” Momonosuke perked up, stepping away from Sasaki frantic grasp, racing to the man. “I was waiting for you to return!” He stopped himself from jumping into his father’s arm. Flushing slightly. “I knew you would return victorious.” He said, trying to pull himself together like the mature young man he was.

“None of that,” Oden proclaimed, and Momonosuke struggled down his sniffles as he was wrapped in a warm familiar hug. He sniffed, whimpering slightly before hugging tightly. “I was so scared!” He wailed, burying his face into his father hair, crying into the strands. He was safe, in the secure embrace of his father. He buried himself into the crook of his neck, inhaling to get the familiar scent of his father’s pomade and made a confused smell at the scent of ink instead of beewax and something fruit like.

“Momo…”

Momonosuke scrubbed his face, opening his eyes and swallowed. “Father, stop.” He shouted, reaching out to pull the blade pointing at Sasaki. “That is just Sasaki. It is alright.” He glanced at the teen; he had never seen Sasaki scared before. His fur was bristled, standing on end as he his tail lashed. Sasaki hair had formed a thick green mane, gills usually closed tight flared open, displaying a mix of gold, deep red, and purple. His mouth was bared in a snarl, showing off sharp teeth and the small tusk. Blue eyes were huge and laser focused on his father’s movements.  

“Who?”

“Sasaki? Hiyori friend?” Momonosuke offered, confused at the blank look crossing his father’s face. This.. this did not seem right. He hissed at the arm tightened around him. “Please set me down.” He demanded. He could see the blood soaking in his father’s kimono. It was soaking into his own robe, tacky and warm against his skin. “You are getting me dirty.”

“Ooh, Momo. You know I can’t do that.” Oden said…smiling in a way his father had never smiled. Momo shuddered slightly at the intense look in the black eyes. “Now that I have you, I can’t let you go until I finish my task.”

“Task?” Momo questioned, confused. “What task would you need me for?” His father had been victorious against Kaidou, surely the only task left was to remove Orochi? He squirmed, trying to push out of the tight grip. It was getting almost painful.

“Don’t you want to be a big boy for your father?”

“Yes?” Momo said, freezing in his squirming. Was he being a child? It was starting to hurt though.

“That is such a good boy.”

Momo looked at him confused as he was set on the tatami mats, gently pushed down till he knelt. “Father what.” He turned, freezing as he watched the sword rise in front of his eyes, prepared to fall onto him. The vicious sneer crossing his father’s face. He stood froze, heart beating loud in his ears. He was going to die.

He did not want to die. Momonosuke let out a hitch breath, twisting to attempt to move away, hnd reaching for something anything to help protect him.

He felt something cold and heavy splash on his back. A slurping noise, like a jug coming unplugged and something splattered on the floor. It smelled like squid ink. He scrambled, feet slipping as he turned around. Momo hadn’t seen Sasaki move but he had, the teenager standing over him, black ink dripping from his hands.  Momo peered over his body, swallowing as he watched the severed limb slowly peel away, slapping against the floor and melted into a puddle of ink.

“That…That isn’t my father,” he stammered, frozen as the dead eyes stared into him.

“No shit it isn’t.” Sasaki snapped. “Now get up.”

“Momo don’t you want to help your father?” The fake asked, grinning widely, head tilting at a crazed angle. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

“Shut the fuck up, you asshole,” Sasaki snapped, stepping forward and snapped his foot up in a sharp kick, slapping against Oden’s ribs. Momo gagged, watching the teenagers foot sink into the form, sliding through it and then stick in half as Sasaki lost his momentum out of shock.

“Gross. This… This is so nasty.” Sasaki moan, tugging his foot back with a gross slurnk. Momo could see his fur ripple as he shuddered out of disgust. Momo agreed, swallowing down bile as the ink bubbled and ooze, the caricature of his father slumping into itself. Melting into a laughing pile of squid ink that flooded the room, soaking into the mats.

“I…” Momo swallowed, coughing harshly. He would not throw up. He would not throw up. He was a proud man of Wano. Men did not throw up. He moved his mouth soundlessly speechless. Momo drew up his legs, shuddering. “I… I almost died.”

“Yeah, and sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to help.”

Momo swallowed nodding. “I can be brave,” he said, voice trembling as he forced himself to stand. His limbs shook. “I am a brave man of Wano.” He could do this. He shuddered, seeing a trace of blood on his arm, and scrubbed at it. Who blood had been splattered on his father?

He looked up and froze, trembling as he looked in the door way. Was that truly his father’s vassals or just strangers wearing their skin and filled with ink? “Sa-sa-sasaki. Behind you.”

Momo stood frozen as the other turned, and then ducked the blade that Kawamatsu used. He swallowed, watching it slice right into the wall from the power of the swing. “This is scary,” he cried, giving a little grunt as he was picked up and tossed onto the other’s back. Momo clung to Sasaki, a hand digging in his hair as he was carried. “Hurry up! They are coming!” He yelled watching Nekomamushi  push past Kawamatsu into the room. “Duck! Duck, Electro!”

He grunted as he was jostled, jerked against Sasaki chest as the teenager skidded on his back sliding out of the room and onto the engawa. Momo watched wide eye as the lighting crackled above them, feeling his hair stand on end. He blinked, the moonlight bright and squawked as he found himself across from the room. On the other side of the courtyard. Sasaki tail slamming the storm shutter shut. “What…what was.”

“Moon path,” Sasaki grunted, dumping him on the wooden planks as he stood. “Come on kid, you got to lead.” He was glowing faintly, silver threads worked in his hair, on his skin.

Momo watched as the frost shimmered away, leaving green behind. “Your moon blessed.”

“Yeah… don’t think much on that. Not going to stop us from getting murdered.”

“Almost all the first daimyos of Wano were moon blessed.” Momo said woodenly, following the teenager into a clean quiet room. That blessing was the reason that almost all the noble families of Wano had the kanji for moon in their family name. He had seen it before but he thought it was some sort of foreign ninja trick. But no, it was truly a blessing.

“Come on kid. I need you to snap out of whatever this is and lead me to your mom.” Sasaki was dripping ink as he walked, leaving a dark stain on the tatami. He opened a door, peering out in the hall and beckoned Momo forward. “We’re clear so far.”

Momo shook his head, clearing out his thoughts. He could do this. “This way,” he muttered, grabbing the other hands, trying to ignore the slickness of the squid ink coating it or the long sharp claws that brushed his skin as he led him down the hallways.

~                                                                                     ~                                                                                           ~

Toki woke to the overwhelming smell of plum blossoms, a clenching in her gut, and a kaiken near her hand. She kept her eyes lowered, breathing slow and gentle as if still in sleep as she listened to the invader in her room. She could smell blood, could hear them limp about the tatami mats. She curled her fingers against the short-hidden blade, pulling it towards her.

There was an invader in her room. There was likely more in the castle. They did not have good attentions. She licked her lip, listening as he shuffled closer. His attempt to be silent was pitiful, a sad excuse for a ninja. Just a bit closer.

Toki sighed, stretching out as if in the gentle embrace of sleep. She could see his silhouette standing over her, hear him breathing heavily, smell that disgusting cloying perfume. She shifted a foot, gently knocking against his leg, giving a breathy little noise of confusion. Just a pretty lady, waking from sleep. She shifted sitting up, letting her juban part to flash milky soft skin as she brushed her free hand through her hair, pushing it back. She lifted her head, lashes opening slowly as she looked up at the man. Her other hand kept the knife close to her back.

Oniwabanshu, traitors. She let her eyes widen, her mouth dropped in an expression of terror as the man approached, reaching for her. Toki lean back, avoiding the grasping hand. Her free hand came down, grabbing his hair and the other jerked forward, pushing the blade though his unexpecting throat. Toki shoved him down onto the blade, not wincing as the body thrashed. She held him till he stilled, and used her legs to push him away. Toki calmly slit his throat, making sure of his death before standing.

Her children. She walked calmly across the room, eyes peeled for the slightest movement, ears straining for the barest hint of a sound. Why had she not been awakened? Where was her maid? Her servants? She frowned, slowly sliding the shoji door open and looking out the hallway.

There were men in her children’s room. She felt rage sink in her veins, her foot steps quiet and fast as she crossed the hallway. Toki struck like a swallow dives, her blade sinking cleanly into her target. She felt the flesh part, blood spurting up as she droved it into his buttocks with full strength, using her shoulders to push him off balance. She pulled the blade free, driving her knees into his back, stabbing her blade cleanly into his neck.

“What the fuck…”

She didn’t answer the befuddle man, standing smoothly from the corpse. Toki locked eyes with him. He was young, dressed in the leathers of the beast pirates. He would be easy prey, already unbalanced and frightened. She moved with purpose, legs eating up the space in one, two, three strides. The kaiken struck out, parting the thin skin of his stomach with ease. She twisted and pulled back, slashing into his neck. Toki watched him fall, gently kicking at his feet as he gurgled.

Only three. She could feel no other living being within the range of her observation haki. Toki glanced around the room. No sign of her son, no sign of her daughter. She knelt by the futon, gently touching the bedding. Cold. Momonosuke had not slept in his room last night. Toki stood, swiftly crossing over to Hiyori.

Her daughter had been so excited to have Yamato sleep over. Momonosuke had acted as if he was unaffected but her soft sensitive boy had been jealous, pouting at his sister’s good fortune. He had likely interrupted them and none of them were there. She could see where they had been, blankets set up to make three beds. A scattering of smuggled in snacks, half ate and abandoned in haste.

Toki waver slightly, her hand clutching over her heart for the merest second. No blood, no bodies, they just were not in their rooms. Sasaki had been given a room on the first floor, near one of the courtyards. It would not be far fetched that her children had sought him out. Yamato could have gotten home sick. She let out her breath, stepping away from her daughter’s room.

Her children were alive. They were smart. She flicked blood of the dagger, cleaning it on her ruined juban. She needed a better weapon. Toki returned to her room, picking up the lacquered sheath. She returned the blade, setting it carefully down on tansu cabinet.

Toki let the juban fall from her shoulders, using the inner fabric to wipe down the worst of the blood splatters from her skin. She kicked it aside and opened the oshiire. Tucked between the futons was a short yari and the confiscated tanto. She withdrew them both, setting them close to her. Toki withdrew a simple juban and yukata from her closet. She donned both, tying the himo shut and turned to her weapons.

The kaiken was tucked into a sleeve, the tanto slipped into the himo at the back, and the yari was a smooth familiar weight in her hands.

“Don’t worry, baby. Mother is coming,” she muttered and stepped out of the room. Toki walked down the hallway, spear at ready as she reached out, trying to find a friendly face or her children. Her reach had always been fragile, haki spilling out filling her short range as she attempted to feel for a friendly face.

She paused, feeling someone. Her fingers tightened on the yari, walking slowly towards the voice. Toki slowly slid the shoji screen open, swinging her weapon first and froze, looking at the broad stocky form of Raizo. “Raizo?” She stepped in, overjoyed at seeing a friendly face. He could help her find the children, he wasn’t…

“Why,” She asked, face crumpling as she approached him, letting the yari fall, hands forming fists. “WHY ARE YOU NOT WITH MY HUSBAND.” She shouted, standing in front of him. “What happened.” She heaved, emotions bubbling out and she should be calm, and composed but she had killed three people. Toki didn’t care to be the calm and elegant noble lady of her illustrious house. She just wanted to be a concern wife and mother.

“Lady Toki, I please calm down,” he said approaching her. “Oden is fine, he came with us.”

That couldn’t be right. Toki stepped back, uneasy. “Did you abandon your mission?” That, that didn’t seem like her husband. Why would Oden turn back from his great adversity. “Raizo, what happened,” she ordered, looking at him closely. Dirt and mud marred the helm of his kimono and caked his sandals. Blood splatters were staining his sleeves, and sweat patches were soaking though the silks. “Why did you come here in such a hurry?”

“Kanjuro intercepted a soldier. Kaidou split his army, sending half here to capture you and young lord Momonosuke. Oden declared since Kaidou was so cowardly, that we would cut this half in pieces.” Raizou glanced around in confusion. “We rode hard, my lady. We exchanged fresh horses and we did stumble on part of an army, but nowhere the numbers that were suppose to be here. I don’t…”

“Kanjuro,” Toki breath. That, that traitor. She scooped up her spear, holding it close to her body, trying to breath. What had he done. What had he done? “That makes no sense. We are not under attack by an army, surely you could read the signs, see it.”

She looked over him, noticing his wince, the shifting of a man who had seen that nothing was adding up correctly but to loyal to question it. Toki shut her eyes, giving a soft bitter little laugh. Oh, it hurt, it hurt to know that the traitor had used her husbands overwhelming charisma and had… had done what. She looked at him, eyes harsh. “You are going to tell me everything, as we find my children,” She ordered, standing up.

“Of course, my lady,” Raizo said, snapping to attention.

Something was wrong. Yet, for now, Toki was going to focus on finding her children and routing the enemies from her home. The rest could wait.

Chapter Text

Oden shifted into the lumpy pile of bedding, blinking blurry as he roused from sleep. The scent of ozone settled over him like a heavy blanket. He yawned, wincing slightly at the pain in his head and the sour sweetness in his mouth. What had he been drinking last night? He pushed up, the canvas of the tent beneath his hand cool and refreshing oppose to the warmth in the air.

Wait, tent? He frowned, dragging his short nails over the canvas. They had left with only basic provisions, had spent their nights underneath the stars. He could faintly smell the remains of umeshu, soft and fruity. They had not brought any plum wine.

Oden stiffened hearing a low snore. Whose tent was this? He shifted, blinking blurry focusing on the mound of cushions and blankets, and that was Kaidou. What the fuck was Kaidou doing… ooh. Ooh shit. He had been defeated, drank nearly a bottle of umeshu, and then fallen sleep in his company. Oden stiffened a scream, frustration and pain making his eyes damp, desolation a gnawing pit in his belly. His neck burned, a steady uncomfortable pulse that made his itch to rake his nails over it, to carve the stain away.

His eyes narrowed, looking at the snoring frame. Did Kaidou think he was defanged? Just helpless now? Oden stood, wavering on his feet, wincing slightly at the dull pain pulsing behind his eyes. He ran a hand though his hair, blinking at the neat tail. Kaidou had brushed and tied up his hair last night. He flushed, red high in his cheeks as he fumbled with tearing out the ribbon. He had let Kaidou do his hair. What was wrong with him.  

He licked his lips, looking over the tranquil slumbering form. Kaidou’s neck was thick, heavily muscled, but it was exposed and vulnerable. Too thick for his hands to do enough damage without waking him, but his legs, Oden was reasonably sure his legs could encompass that expanse and then just a sharp twist and that would be the end.

He slowly walked around the form, looking at the sleeping giant. It would be a little awkward to get the angle. Kaidou was seven or so feet off the ground, angled in a relax incline. There were more supports close to his neck and head. Oden froze, watching Kaidou shift, giving a small little muttered before settling into sleep.

Oden let out a breath, relaxing his shoulders as he slowly approached. Kaidou injury softened his face, a permeant mark that he was mortal. His hair was mused, long and tangled amidst the multicolored silks and cotton cushions. Weather worn skin, sun and wind worn over how many years of pirating. What was he doing… was he admiring Kaidou while he slept?

He needed to end this before Kaidou mark completely weakened his resolve. It already was doing something to his thoughts. Oden slowly and carefully stepped up on the cushion, feeling the surface give slightly. He could do this. He slowly walked up, careful of where he stepped until he could swing a leg over the broad neck, shivering slightly as Kaidou’s hot breath brushed over the sensitive inner skin of his thighs as he squatted into position. Kaidou’s muscular chest was burning hot against his buttocks. Oden swallowed, pressing his knees against the thick column of his neck. He clenched his core, thighs muscles tensing. Just a twist, using his full strength and weight to smooth snap his neck. Easily done.

Oden jumped as thick hands enveloped his waist, fingers digging into the meat of his ass. “Well, what a sight to wake up to. The disposed shogun of Wano straddling my face,” Kaidou uttered, breath hot and moist against his core. “You could have just asked if you wanted a mustache ride.” His singular golden eye was hazy with sleepy, the pupil slanted and primal.

Fuck. He clamped down tight, twisting but barely moved in the firm grip.  He could not get the leverage he needed to break Kaidou’s neck, not now when those large hands were holding his waist. Oden felt Kaidou laugh, a deep rumbling noise that vibrated in his chest. Oden shivered, tingling starting at the nape of his head and coiled down into his curled toes as the thrumming sunk into his bones.

 “Don’t laugh, you ass,” Oden hissed, drawing up his legs to kick at Kaidou’s smug face. He unbalanced as the man moved, falling against the broad chest. He kicked wildly, attempting to shove his heel into the wrapped injury. Fuck him.

Oden let out a choked noised as his foot smoothly popped into Kaidou’s mouth, and blunt teeth shut, delicately clamping down on his ankle. A heavy thumb stroke over his hip, following the taunt line of his muscles. The hand on his waist kept him pressed against Kaidou’s chest. “Fuck you,” Oden panted, skin beat red as he was handled like a child. He felt small, his heart beating rapidly as he glared at the beast of a man. He shivered, feeling a wet tongue brush over his heel.

Kaidou chuckled, lips spread in a wide smile as he opened his mouth. Oden swiftly reclaimed his foot, pulling his knees to his chest, panting. Kaidou thumbs stroked over his skin, pushing up his kimono like he was a present to unwrap, or a horse to be gentled. “Stop touching me.”

“Mm.” Kaidou raised a brow and removed his hands. Oden strangled a yell as he fell, dropping into the pile of cushions. He struggled though the pile of silk and cotton, finding his footing in the mess. “Next time you straddle my face, I’m going to take that as an invitation to eat you out.”

“I was trying to kill you, you vulgar beast,” Oden snapped, pressing his kimono down and flushed, feeling the cloth press against his erection. When had that happened?! He stumbled back, nearly tripping over one of Kaidou’s thick legs. He did not find Kaidou attractive. His body was just betraying him because of the stimulation. It was just a natural body reaction to being touched.

Kaidou single eye burned into his skin. Oden hissed, tugging a cushion into his lap, and curled around it, glaring at him. How had this man crawled under his skin. How was he letting himself be this shaken? He flushed anew, embarrassed at his behavior. Get yourself under control, he scolded himself.

“Sure,” Kaidou replied, completely nonchalant, as if talking about killing him was just like talking about the weather. “What do you want for breakfast?” He reached over, pulling a transponder snail out from the pile.

“Is this a joke to you?” Oden questioned; voice strangled in rage.

“Should it be?” Kaidou paused in a moment in dialing in the number and then continued. “I’m hungry and I’m sure you are as well.” He sunk deeper into the pile of cushions, relaxed. “You aren’t the first to attempt to kil me. First one to ever leave a mark.” Kaidou admitted before turning his attention to the snail. “You could be useful and see if there is any tea made.”

“What is wrong with you?” Oden asked, exhaustion and disbelief coloring his tone. Who fought someone near death and then turned around and okay, he was being a hypocrite. Oden frowned, biting his lip before sighing. Alright, alright. “Tamagoyaki would be nice,” he mentioned, slowly standing up. He was a bit wobblily on his feet, a touch dizzy, and he should keep up his strength. He would stand on his own two feet, no matter what was at the end of the road.  

“Check the booze bottles, my eldest keep exchanging my liquor for tea,” Kaidou called and continued placing the order.

“And you let him?” Oden gave an appreciated noise as he started to go through the collection. Kaidou had an excellent collection of liquor. Some of the bottles clearly had been replaced and he pulled them out, checking the seals and pulled a few corks. A number had gone off, siting too long, but one was filled with clear barley tea. “He does know that tea goes stale, right?” Oden asked, lifting the jug. Mugicha would fit the main dish.

“Ehh, King confiscates them and I get them back eventually.” Kaidou shrugged and hmm, thoughtful. “Probably not. I don’t think he has ever left a glass or bottle full for longer than a few hours.”

Oden brought back the jug and the set of sake cups they had used last night. He sat down, carefully wiping out the cups. They had seen some use, the lacquer slightly scratched on the outside. Kaidou shifted, sitting beside him picking up the jug to pour the tea into the cups. Oden accepted one, wondering faintly how his life had gotten so out of control he was drinking barley tea with Kaidou while waiting for breakfast to be delivered.

“Why did you let me live?” Oden asked, looking down at the cup.

“Why did you submit?” Kaidou asked.

Oden brushed his shoulder, feeling the phantom press of fangs. He had choked on hot blood, struggled under the heavy imposing muscles weighing him down into the dirt and drowned in the scent of ozone. It would have been a bitter end, devoured by the dragon. “I…” He curled his fingers into fist, trying to find the words. What honor was in being devoured by a beast? What honor was in his submission? It was muddled, his thoughts being swamped by pure animal brain terror and the desire to live. “I never felt like that before.”

He imagined his death, standing proud to take a blade in the front, not scrambling in the dirt for leverage as he inhaled blood up his nose, choking on it. There had been nothing noble in it. “It was not the death I imagined.” It had been a mis-step, he had faltered in surprised and paid for it.

“And you were not going to kill me.” Oden said, realization coming to him. Kaidou’s haki had been enraged, those fangs digging so close that they could crack bone, potential cripplingly him, but there had been control in it. Submit or loose the arm. “Would you have taken my arm?” An arm for an eye. It had a poetic sort of justice to it.

“I…don’t know if that was the dragon’s intention,” Kaidou started, swirling the tea in his cup thoughtful. “I remembered the pain well, the rage, and having you between my teeth and there was a knowledge I could end it. It would have been a simple thing.” Kaidou sipped slowly. “And just a whisper of a thought that I should restrain myself to see what you would do.” His brow furrowed. “Then you submitted and it was as if all that pain was worth it.”

“Are we interrupting?” A voice called, warm and masculine. Oden turned surprised as not one but three people had entered without him noticing. The speaker was a slender man, wearing an oversized long sleeve shirt. His skin was dark, making his teeth seem whiter as he smiled brightly. “Morning. We brought brunch.”

“I’m Salem. I’m one of the Thorns,” he introduced, reaching out and boldly taking Oden’s hand, clasping it warmly in well-manicured slender hands. Soft hands, Oden blinked, off guard as the man just continued, “The tall leggy one is Nel, also, a Thorn, and of course you know King.” Oden blinked, confused. What?

“Unmhm,” Oden said, trying to gather words. He found himself man handled between Nel and Salem as the tray was set down and the food was quickly divided up. He rubbed his face, eyes shut tight as he tried to gather his thoughts. Perhaps it was time to take a break. He might be able to think after the meal. Oden accepted the small bowl of pickled vegetables pressed into his hand and the chopsticks bemused.

“Yes, you did,” Kaidou replied, tired but also amused. “What time is it?”

“Around three hours after sunrise,” King answered, offering Kaidou a bowl and chopsticks. “The men are mostly sober. Thea currently marshaling some platoons in place to escort some of the prisoners to the flower Capital. She should leave in a half hour.”

“Who,” Oden demanded of King.

“Mmh,” King glanced at Kaidou, getting permission before continuing. “Thea will be escorting the minks for now. In a few hours, Salem will handle the return of Higurashi’s body to Orochi and accompany the fishman to the capital. I take it you can pick your own troops.”

“Mmh, I have some in mind.”

“We will travel at the rear with the rest of the prisoners and men. We should arrive in the capital late.”

Oden frowned at the reminder of his missing vassals. What had possessed them to disappear in such a way? He would have sworn that Kin’emon was at his back when he charged forward, meeting Kaidou for the battle.

There are no bodies, he reminded himself. He had lost sight of them in the flaming barrier and now he was at lost. It was if they had dissolved into smoke. Oden shoveled the pickle vegetables in his mouth, allowing the sweet and sour taste burst along his tongue, waking his appetite.

He ate them swiftly before accepting the bowl of miso soup offered to him. Oden looked over the bowl of miso, filled with fried tofu, mushrooms, leeks, and some sort of grain. Maybe a millet? He picked up a piece of fried tofu, popping it in his mouth and gave a soft moan of surprise at the burst of flavor washing over his tongue.

That was perfectly fried. He sipped the broth, the rich savory flavor filling his mouth. The warm sunk in his bones, curling in the pit of his stomach. He sighed, enjoying the hot meal.

The scent of stormfronts was curled in his nose, overwhelming all other scents. Oden glanced at Kaidou, watching the man’s pupil dilate, become a sharp primal slant as that gold eye focus intensely on him. “What?” He snapped. “You are staring like you want to devour me.”

~                                                                                                        ~                                                              ~

“Devour you senseless,” Kaidou muttered in his soup, remembering the feel of Oden’s firm skin in his grip. The smell of his arousal, and the delicious flush of rage over his checks and down his chest. That stupid fucking little moan he had made just now. He paused in bringing a slice of leek to his mouth, realizing that he might have been having lucid sex dreams staring Oden for the last few weeks. Fuck. The dragon laughed in his mind, coils brushing the depth of his mind as it settled, content for now to watch. Alright, so he did want to fuck Oden.  

Salem snorted. “The dragon wants to fuck you,” he said bluntly. Oden choked on his mouthful of miso, coughing heavily as he wheezed. “Kaidou not opposed to fucking you either.”

“Salem, stop,” Kaidou snarled, scooping up his convulsing little mate and gently patting his back. He rumbled deep in his chest, soothing. “That’s it, just breathe.” He dug his thumb in the meat of Oden’s shoulder, working out a heavy knot. Oden breath shifted, turning from hiccupping little spurts to slower draws. “There you go.”

“What…what are you doing.” Oden gasped, wiping his tearing eyes, blinking up at Kaidou.

Kaidou licked his fangs, staring down at him. “Courting you,” he blurted out, impulsive and leaned close, hands encircling Oden’s waist, he had such a little waist “I would like to,” he added, leaning down close, breathing deep and rumbled. “Um, court you.”  

“I’m married you dick,” he snapped, and punched him in the nose.

Kaidou blinked, before chuckling, letting Oden slide down. He wanted to grab his waist and dig his thumbs in the meat of Oden’s ass. He wanted to shove his face between the man’s legs and taste him. He was getting stupidly horny over this man he was supposed to take back to Orochi for execution. He exhaled, trying to wrangle himself under control.

“You are getting handsy, sir. You might want to reign in the dragon,” Salem scolded serenely, offering Oden his bowl back. “Though marriage doesn’t have to be exclusive. I know there is a basic form of polyamory here.”

“What do you mean by reign in the dragon. You act as if they are two separate entities, not just one horny asshole.” Oden shouted, gesturing violently at Kaidou before snatching the bowl, pulling it towards his chest.

“Because it does,” Kaidou answered, reclaiming his bowl of soup. “Sit down and finish your meal, Oden. I promise I won’t touch you.” Not till he got a handle on his instincts. He shouldn’t be this much of a randy teenager. Court him, sea and skies what was he thinking? He was hired to kill him.

“All zoan fruits have a will of their own, their own wants, desires, instincts. It can either work with the hosts own thoughts, take them over, or become a sort of blend,” Salem replied. “That is part of the reason while there are so few awaken zoans. The beast has an opportunity to take full control.” Salem tapped a finger against his mouth. “Though that was an exceptionally abnormal reaction. It might have to do with your mark.” Salem tapped his neck. “Could I take a look?”

Oden sighed, pushing his hair away. “Why not,” he said, tired.

Kaidou eye roved over the red stain, the dragon purring in excited. He ran his tongue over his fangs, feeling them drop slightly. He wanted to bite him. He restrained himself from growling a warning as Salem carefully looked over the mark. Salem was pack and Oden was not even Salem’s type. He was not a rival. Kaidou huffed, annoyed at himself.

This feeling was almost familiar. Kaidou ran his eye over Oden, his hair loose and soft looking without the product, slightly flush along his nose and under his eyes. He strangled his urge to growl as Nel joined Salem, boldly setting her hands on Oden’s skin, following the mark up to the splatter behind his ear. He hadn’t reacted like this when he had accepted and return King’s courtship. But King had been the one to chase him, he had been assured of his first mates’ attention. Could smell it. Under his claim, all he could get was the noise wrinkling smell of chemicals. The suppressants kept him from smelling Oden properly, all he as getting was his own pheromones that coated him and it was heady.

Kaidou pressed back against King, trying to keep his focus. A wing draped over his lap, feathers spreading out. They were marred with soot and untidy. Kaidou grumbled, reaching down and started to preen them. He ran his fingers though the feathers, steadily tweaking them into order. Globemallow and honey started to slowly fill the air, the wing in his lap becoming limp and relax.

“Well?” Kaidou prompted. “Spit it out.” He pressed his thumb against the oil gland, working some on his fingers before continuing the relaxing work. The familiar motions settled him, gave him something else to focus on.

“What is on your neck is undeniably a claim,” Salem stated. “You have three. Your mate bound with Toki is the oldest. Kaidou bite mark would be the second. That one’s your typical Dominance claim mark. It will heal up, and fade eventually leaving unbroken skin. Till it does, you can’t actually kill Kaidou. You can go through the actions, but you won’t generate enough power to do so. It’s like a shackle.”

Kaidou hummed thoughtful, continuing to unconsciously preen King’s wings. Oden muddled haki had been what had woken him to the delicious sight of the man nearly sitting on his face. He glanced at Oden, taking in the soft flush across the bridge of his nose. Oden sat up straighter, looking up at him with his dark black eyes. Pretty. Kaidou strangled the noises in his throat, pressing down the zoan instinctive need to impress and reassure the man. Nope, that was starting to get them into trouble. He worked his fingers into a knot, kneading it out.

Oden huffed, pressing his hand against his bandage shoulder and let it fall. “And the last?” Oden asked, voice tense.

“That one is…I think it’s a war bride mark,” Salem grimaced, playing with his meal. “There are old legends about that sort of marking. I’ve never seen one in recent times. Nel? If you would take over?”

“My Sino is not as strong…can I speak Galli?” She questioned, glancing at Oden.

“Ah, yes. I am not fluent but I speak it well enough,” Oden answered. “What is a war bride mark? Is it a claim?”

A war bride? Kaidou had heard stories, old legends of that sort of claim. Vodka island had its own legends built upon the deeds of such a pair. A sort of mate claim then. That would explain why his instincts had bene so driven to impress and care for him.

“Yes, it is a very rare claim,” Nel replied, tapping the mark gently. “For such a claim, combat is needed. Not a friendly spar, not a one-sided slaughter. A fight of equal strength and ability, with a resolve to win. To wholly give one all in battle and be matched it must be exhilarating.” She grinned. “We sometimes call them destined rivals.”

~                                                                                              ~                                                                              ~

Oden rubbed his wrist, lips pressed together. There was some truth in what Salem had said. Now that he was aware of it, he had not put any determination into his attack. His form had been sloppy. He had paused, gotten distracted by things he should be able to ignore. The mark had turned to a warm steady pulse when Kaidou touched him. And then there was that claim.

War Bride. The very term made him grimace, his life was starting to sound like the plot to some cut sleeve erotic novel. Toki would find it hilarious. Destine rivals. He huffed slightly, trying to press it from his mind.

And the beast. What did the dragon want?

Outside of sex. It was very clear that they were interested in sex.

Oden sighed, rubbing his head, starting to get a headache. “What does it do? The other keeps me from attacking Kaidou. This stain does what?” He reached out, transferring some slices of tamagoyaki into his empty soup bowl.

“It is a temporary pack claim. It marks you as belong to Kaidou and under his protection. It why your haki is infused with his scent. It is a very strong, clean claim mark. The purer the venom, the brighter the red is and the more intense the umm feelings are?” Nel fumbled, trying to sort out the words. “It isn’t quite a mating bond, but does have some of the intent to it? It can’t make you have feelings, but it can make you more sensitive.”

“Pheromones,” Salem offered.

“So, it what? Makes me extra tasty?” Oden asked incredulous. He glanced at Kaidou, watching his eye dilate becoming dark and slanted. He turned his head, picking up a slice of tamagoyaki and took a bit bite. Ooh. The soft omelet was a perfect mix of sweet and savory, packed with fish, scallions, and mushrooms and the proper dash of daishi and sugar. He chewed greedily. Oden brushed a bit of fish from his mouth, sucking it off his thumb and froze hearing a rumble, almost a purr. He glanced at Kaidou, seeing his teeth bite into his lower lip, cutting off the noise.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Indeed,” Kaidou agreed, lapping a bit of blood from his lower lip. “Would it still be as potent if he was off the suppressants.”

“Ahh, that could be having an effect. The legends were all before suppressants became a norm.”

“It has happened recently within my tribe but never with an alpha on suppressants,” Nel admitted. “You keep breaking expectations.”

“Will it fade? Or is this permeant?” Oden asked, restraining himself from itching at his neck. What was his life.

“Three to six months for the initial mark to fully fade. It is usually reapplied before that if both parties agree.” Nel slowly loaded up her own dish of tamagoyaki. “It is considered bad luck to marry before the bride throat has been fully coated with venom twice, it starts to permanently stain making the base for the intricate marriage collar.”

“Why would I want that?” Oden squawked? Marriage? Collar? Nope, nope. It was bad enough the mark was going to stay on his throat for months, and that it made him smell like catnip to Kaidou.

“Because the longer it stays on, the more requests you can make to Kaidou about the fate of your people?” Nel replied, confused. “You might have lost the battle, but the claim gives you status and such a place at the table to argue for their welfare.”

 That sounded a lot like arranged marriage negotiations. Oden strangled down his urge to yell and instead sulked while he shoveled Tamagoyaki slices in his mouth. It, it wasn’t even feasible. “Am I suppose to believe that I can buy out your contract with my body?” He grumbled.

“I would accept it, if that was something you wanted to consider,” Kaidou offer.  

Oden froze, looking up at Kaidou. He licked his lip, considering and narrowed his eye, giving a huff. “Figure out how to get my men and I though the execution first. Then we’ll talk.” Oden set his demands, certain Kaidou would refuse. Oden had nothing to offer but his body. His allies had been whittled away, his finances and reputation were in shambles.

“Accepted,” Kaidou replied. “I can’t stop the execution… we are going to need some extraordinary feat to renew the faith of the people in you. That will do, but Orochi has been testing my patience of late. You are the true heir, so if you genuinely want to offer yourself to me, I will accept it.”

“We will see,” Oden said coldly, barely keeping himself together. What had he gotten himself into?

Chapter Text

“I don’t wish to doubt you my lady, but are you sure about trusting them?” Raizo questioned, walking a few paces in front of Toki as he scouted the rooms. He could feel no one nearby with observation, but if her ladyship was correct, he might not be able to feel the enemy till they were upon him.

“I know it seems sudden,” Toki said, her voice reassuring and calm, like a balm on his frazzled nerves. “I trust them, Raizo. They harbor no ill intentions to my children. Nor myself. If they had not approached, we would have no warning of the traitor in our midst. I know it is hard for you, Raizo. To consider one of your brethren to be a traitor.”

Raizo sniffled, holding back his tears. The idea of Kanjuro betraying them, that he would do such a despicable thing. That he could have been lying to them for years and he could have been responsible for the lady’s injury! That Toki – sama’s fair skin had been marred because of his selfishness. “I…have such trouble considering it as truth, but if so. He will not be forgiven.”

“All I can ask if for you to be aware and cautious of the possibility.” Toki sighed. “I did not want to believe it, that it was some sort of mistake. That while we might have a spy it couldn’t possibly be Kanjuro. That perhaps it was a naïve maid.”

“You are too kind.”

“I am not. I was lax. I should have done more to reach out beyond our own citizens. If I had considered approaching Kaidou early, perhaps we could have avoided a war.”

“No, my lady. Please do not doubt yourself. What could you have possibility offered such a beast?” Raizo questioned. “His children are young, and redeemable. It sounds like they have been good friends for Hiyori - sama.” He wanted to meet these children, and he also wanted to scold them. How had they spent so many years, slipping under their radar and corrupting their young lady. Little Hiyori – sama had been lying to them for so many years.

“They are surprisingly sweet. I think you would like them,” Toki paused, motioning Raizo to be quiet, listening. “Do you hear that?”

“There should…”Raizo trailed off, hearing a shuffling. What was that? He had been feeling out with observation as they went and he had been certain that this level had been clear of voices. He reached out, trying to get a read of the intruder and there was nothing. “Toki-sama please stay here.” Something was wrong. It itched under his skin.

Toki coldly pursed her lips but nodded, the grip on her spear shifting, getting it at ready.

Raizo moved carefully, slowly peering into the room. Ashura? He walked slowly, approaching the massive man. The size, the unruly pink hair, the purple floral tattoos were not right. It was a small imperfection but the ink was smeared. Raizo brought up his observation, feeling nothing. Ashura was as cold and lifeless as the furniture in the room.

It was true. He exhaled, clenching down his distress and smiled brightly. “Ashura! I as wondering where you have gotten to! Have you found Momonosuke – sama?” He questioned.

The man turned, and Raizo could pick up little things now he was looking. The shape of his chin, the shade of his hair, the fact one of his hands were missing a tip of a finger. It was so noticeable now that he was looking for it. This was not his brother in arms, this was a well-crafted imposture and why had Kanjuro kept this such a secret? How could he have lied to them for so many years?

The double blinked, dull and slow. “No, not yet.” He grunted and turned away, looking under one of the kotestu tables and Raizo felt his heart break. If they had not been in such a rush, if they had not immediately set off, could they have known? What, what was Oden – sama feeling right now.

Victorious? Defeated? With four of his very vassals missing with no knowledge of why or where they were. What did he do now? Should he leave him? Should he kill him? Kill his brother even though it was a fake? Raizo found himself faltering, hands shaky as he pulled out some shuriken.

A test. Ashura would be able to block these. Could a painting manage? He let out a breath, stroking over the sharp razor edge, drawing a line of blood. I am sorry Ashura, if it is truly you, you have every right to be angry with me, he thought and threw them at the broad back. They spun, sharp and dangerous and hit and went straight through, lodging in the wood behind him with a thunk.

Raizo swallowed bile, seeing the wall though the rips in the Ashura’s body. It, it was true. It was true. He faltered as Ashura spun around, frozen. Kanjuro had betrayed them. He swallowed, fumbling to draw his blade as the Ashura swung his sword.

Toki slender body pushed in front of his, her spear blocking the sword strike with the clear sound of metal hit metal. She grunted, deflecting it to the side and it sunk into the wood of the floor like a knife though butter.

He fumbled, drawing on his jutsu to create a scroll, increasing its size. As Ashura went to swing again, Raizo shoved himself Infront of it, capturing the attack. Raizo took a deep breath, biting his mouth as he activated it “Nippon: Maki Maki no Jutsu,” he called, the scroll wrapping firmly around Ashura Doji and sucked him into the scroll, sealing him up.

Raizo grabbed it, holding it close and sniffled. “I… I can’t believe it is true.” He clutched it close, crying into the scoll to his chest. It was just a painting, but he had to raise a hand to one of his brothers. “I, I am sorry, Toki – sama.”

He took a deep breath, banishing the scroll and wiped his face. “Alright. Let’s find Momonosuke – sama and Hiyori-sama.” Nothing as more important than making sure that Oden-sama children and wife were safe.

Raizo could not track the children with observation, not well, their young voices blended in too well with the staff and enemies. Kaidou’s children though… if they had a devil fruit, or an ability, he might be able to pick up their power. He stretched out his observation, letting it sink though the floors. Most were fleeting things, Kaidou’s hired thugs, the sturdier power of the few remaining Oniwabanshu, the bright familiar feels of his fellow samurai, and a pair of odd voices. The closer was bright, sparkling, another faint voice clustered close to them. There was power there. The other was strange, the voice was hard to get a lock on, slippery like catching an eel in high tide.

“I might have a lead,” Raizo informed Toki. The voices were not one of the staff, or one of his fellow samurai. It could be one of Kaidou’s men or one of the remaining ninja but Raizo had a hunch that these voices would lead to the missing children. “I do not know if it will lead to Momonosuke- sama or Hiyori-sama but the voice is unique.”

“Let us. If it is a foe, we will defeat.” Toki walked towards his side, the grip on her weapon tight. “Lead on, Raizo-san.”

~                                                                                          ~                                                                                     ~

Momonosuke felt his heart was going to burst out of his chest, a lump in his throat as he sniffled, peering into the empty room. Empty, empty, they were all empty. Where was his mother? He had been so certain she would be here. “Mother?” He called, voice warbling on the symbols, high pitched. His ears were ringing, and his vision was pulsing. She was supposed to be here. He knew it. This was her room, and that had been his and Hiyori’s bedrooms. And there was so much blood.  

He blinked, trying to focus as broad, cool hands cupped his face. “Momo, Momo just stop.” Momonosuke blinked, vision wavering as tears threatened to spill. “She isn’t here.”

“I…I can do it.” He wailed, fat tears squeezing out of his eyes. “It isn’t scary. It isn’t scary.” He hiccuped, letting the speaker pick up him, burying his face into the mass of silky green hair. A hand patted his back, words washing over him in a soothing balm.

“Kid, you are clearly scared, come on, we’ll find a room and take a small break. Sometimes you just got to wait for them to find you.”

Momonosuke curled up, trying to disappear in the voluminous clean smelling floof. He sniffled, blinking blurrily, breathing in rapid little hiccups. His skin felt tight, and he was exhausted. He gave an unhappy whine as he was pulled out of his quiet, dark, soft hiding spot and plopped on the floor. Large hands wrapped over his, grounding him. “Alright kid, let’s do a thing.”

“What?” He questioned, confused as he looked up. His head felt light and his ears stuffed with cotton and the pulse of blood.

“Okay. Follow my breathing, okay? Slow breath in,” Sasaki said slowly, exaggeratedly breathing in though his nose and then exhaled noisily out of his mouth. Momonosuke gave a weak noise of disgusted amusement. He blinked, attempting to breath in and hiccupped noisily.

“Yup, funny right. Come on. In for three and exhale for six.” Sasaki coaxed.

He nodded, inhaling in for three though his noise and then noisily breathing out for six. He followed the pattern, tension slowly leaving his body. The buzzing in his head was slowing, making it easier to understand Sasaki’s voice.

“Yeah, that good kid. Now, what two colors can you see? Any color in the room.”

“Your hair is green?” Momonosuke said tentatively, eyes darting to the first color he saw. “And my juban is pink,” he added firmly, feeling calmer but still anxious as he picked at the fabric of his sleeve and shuffled his feet against the mat.

“Okay, now can you smell anything?”

Smell? He shuddered, recalling the blood. “You smell like lotus blooms,” He blurted out, placing the soft floral scent. “And and the ocean in winter. When it freezes over.” Florals and ice. “It is nice.”

“Yeah?” Sasaki hummed, thoughtful. “All I smell is squid.”

Momonosuke chuckled watery, scrubbing at his eyes. “That too… but your hair smells like flowers and ice.” He exhaled, feeling better.

“Yeah, that would be a better smell then squid,” he mused. “Feeling better?”

“Mmh. I…I don’t know where my mother is. I thought she would be here,” he admitted, scrubbing at his eyes. “I really thought she would be.” She should be. He let a weak sniffle, and breathed in and then out again. It… it was helping.

“We might have missed her. She is probably looking for you and Hiyori right now.” Sasaki soothed, ruffling his hair playfully. “Alright. One more deep breath in, and let it out,” he coaxed. Momonosuke breathed in and out, shoulders slumping slightly as the tension eased. “That it. Feel ready to keep looking?”

“Yes.” Momonosuke stated firmly. He wanted to find her. “How do you do it?” He questioned, taking Sasaki hand. “You, you haven’t flinched once at a body.” He shivered, clamping down hard on the hand.

“Kid. That isn’t something you should be proud of,” Sasaki replied, pressing his ear against the shoji door to listen before opening it, stepping back into the hallway. “I grew up on a pirate ship. Death ended up rather common place.”

“I was on a pirate ship too.” Momonosuke grumbled, following behind him. He was born outside of Wano! He as a well-traveled man.

“Momo, you stop being on a ship when you were like two. You don’t have memories of your time on there. Which is good,” Sasaki said, carefully squeezing his hand back in reassurance. “So be disgusted by dead bodies, be afraid of them. Uneasy. Being comfortable with death isn’t a sign of being courageous, kid.”

“It is not?”

“No,” Sasaki said firmly. “It is not.”

“Do you regret it?” Momonosuke asked.

“Mmh?” Sasaki shrugged at the questioned. “I don’t know how to answer that.” Momonosuke looked at him waiting. “Death is simply death,” he said finally. “It isn’t good… or bad, it just is.” Sasaki sighed.

“Kid,” he said finally, “I spent most of my childhood catching and eating raw seafood. I been desensitized since I was really, really fucking young.” Sasaki ran his free hand though his hair. “It is like, mmh growing up as a butcher son, or a farmer, or a cattle rancher. Some people just grow up with it.”

“Ahh.” Momonosuke said thoughtful. He knew the idea of what had to happen for him to eat, but he had never actually seen it. Had never really considered it.

“I swear, between you and Yamato I am digging deep to find wisdom to hand out.” Sasaki led them to a stairwell going down. “I can sense someone down here.”

“Sense them?”

“Mmhm…I’m not good with different form of haki but someone down there is living and decently powerful.” Sasaki crouched down. “Might be someone you know. Might not. Do you want to try?”

“You want me to choose?” Momonosuke pressed against his side, peering down the stairwell. He scuffled his feet, unsure.

“Yeah. No shame in saying no.” Sasaki picked some ink from under his nails.  “The bodies all been Oniwabanshu or my dad’s thugs,” Sasaki mused. “So, I think your family is winning.”

“Of course, Wano samurai have no equal,” he said, perking up slightly. “I want to see who it is.” He could be a brave man. He wanted to know who was there. Maybe it could be his mother?

“Alright. Keep close to me.” Sasaki started down the steps.

Momonosuke trotted down the steps, half tempted to reach over and hold onto Sasaki’s tail for comfort. He was a big boy. He didn’t need to cling to people. It was tempting…Hiyori often gushed how very soft the fur was. But it would be so rude.

He scuffed his feet, nervous as they got closer to the bottom of the stairs. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father, he…would settle for Kin’emon. Momonosuke perked up, hearing the voice coming though the shoji door.

“I can’t believe that he would resort to such underhanded trickery.”

“That’s Kin’emon!” He hissed, grasping both the tail and Sasaki’s sleeve in his hands. It was sooo soft, softer than his hair. Momonosuke let go of the tail as Sasaki’s glance back at him. “Sorry,” he muttered, curling his fingers in the sleeve “But that Kin’emon.”

“Just like a pirate.”

“Is he going to attack me on sight?” Sasaki questioned, leaning against the wall.

“Maybe?” Momonosuke peered around, trying to get a glance at the samurai thought a crack in the paper. He shifted, searching for the man. There he was! Momonosuke let out a breath, watching the man gesture to someone else.

Who was that? Was someone else in there? Kin’emon was moving away and the door was muffling his voice now. No. No. “Kin?” He called, voice wavering on the last sound, fragile with nearly a whine. “Is that him?” He asked, looking to Sasaki. What if it wasn’t Kin? What if it was one of those ink mud men.

“Momonosuke-sama! This one is here to serve you, forgive me for my tardiness.” Kin’emon proclaim, nearly tripping over his own feet. Momonosuke smothered his giggles in his hand.

“Yeah… That one is real.” Sasaki replied. “Are you sure Wano is home of the greatest swordmen?”

“Do not mock,” Momonosuke ordered, cheeks puffing up in rage. Ooh. He made him so mad. He reached up, pushing the door open and stepped out into the room. “Kin’emon! I am over here.” He called out eagerly, raising his arms up.

He slumped against the familiar chest, hands grasping tightly into the fabric. “I thought I would never see you again,” he wailed. Kin’emon felt solid in his hand, warm, and smelled gross. He hiccupped slightly, rubbing his eyes. “What, what has happened? Do you know how my father fairs?” He asked, looking up at Kin’emon’s face. “Did you win the battle?”

“Oh, Momonosuke-sama. Did you not see him already? He came with us? I was so certain he would seek you out first thing.” Kin’emon brushed his tears away. “One moment, let me make you some proper clothes.”

Oh yes, please. He would like some actual clothes. Momonosuke frowned, trying not to fidget as Kin’emon set a leaf in his hair and jutsu him a proper outfit. The smoke clear, revealing a pink kimono with a design of peaches and flowers. “Thank you,” he said, lifting his feet and marveling at the clean tabi socks. It felt so good to be clean and not be stuck in sticky stiff clothing.

“That wasn’t my father though,” he said seriously, grabbing onto Kin’emon sleeve, looking up in his eyes. “That was some sort of ink youkai, some…something evil. You got to believe me Kin. It was wearing my father’s face and it tried to stab me.” Momonosuke shuddered, rubbing his arms though his clothing, swallowing heavily.

“Momonosuke-sama. I don’t…” Kin’emon stuttered, confused. “I… has someone been telling you tales? Do I need to teach them a lesson?” He asked, tone hardening.

“What…” He blinked confused. “No? Sasaki is fine,” he said confused. “Ooh, I haven’t introduced you to him.” Momonosuke drew himself up, clearing his throat. “Kin’emon, this is Sasaki. Sasaki this is one of my father’s vassals and a great samurai of Kuri, Kin’emon.” He tugged on Kin’emon’s sleeve. “Be nice.”

~                                                                                              ~                                                                                       ~

Sasaki bit down a snarky comment, nodding to the samurai as Momo introduce them. The brat was so proud of himself, basking between them in his new clothes. It was sort of cute. He picked at the fabric of his ink crusted robe, the dried fluid flaking off in dark specks. “Can I also get some new clothes?... Do you make weapons?” he asked, curious.

“I…who?” Kin’emon blinked, looking between him and Momo. “The young master has vouched for you, so I will assist how ever I can,” he recovered. “Do you have a request?”

“Just something clean,” Sasaki replied, managing to keep from begging. “Nothing perverted,” he added, quickly. Wano wasn’t a shiny example of gender or dynamic equality. Samurai were supposed to have a code of honor and well none of that kept them from being perverts. He hoped the squid ink threw him off.

“Nothing like that. I can promise you that,” Kin’emon assured, pulling out a leaf and set a hand onto his hair, focusing. Smoke billowed out, the smell sterile and itching against his nose. Sasaki sneezed, sniffling as the power made him itch. This was sort of gross.

The smoke cleaned up and Sasaki glanced down, looking over the kimono…wait. “Is this a furisode?” He questioned, running a finger over the smooth dark blue silk. It was patterned with a simple ocean wave motif.

“Yes, it seemed appropriate. Do you know how to wear tasuki? Kin’emon asked, offering up the strips of cloth.

“No,” Sasaki replied, debating on if this was acceptable clothing or not. It was very simple for a furisode and dark in color. “I didn’t think men wore these,” he stated, following directions and turning around so Kin’emon could tie the sleeves back. Sasaki lifted his mane up, as the man fiddled with it. “It seems a little bit fancy for running for our lives in.”

“It is an omega style one, it is very proper for your station.” Kin’emon tied the sleeves back, securing them in place. “Do not worry, you are now under our protection. Denjiro and I will make sure you are safe and sound.”

“Wait? There was two of you?” Sasaki had only felt one. Had only seen a single samurai. “Fuck, sorry kid.” He held out his hands. “Sword, please,” he demanded. “Some sort of weapon. Any weapon.”  

“Are you sure?” Momo questioned, keeping close to the samurai.

“What is going on?” Kin’emon questioned, confusion clear as he stepped between them. “No, I am not going to give you a weapon. That would be extremely negligent of me. What if you hurt yourself?”

“Dude, are you getting sexist with me?” Sasaki asked. “I know how to wield a weapon without cutting myself.”

“Kin’emon? What is with all the noise?”

Sasaki froze as the other samurai stepped into the room. He shivered, stepping back for a bit more room, tail lashing in irritation at the smell of squid ink and something else. He snarled, showing his fangs, gills flaring, and mane bristling in defense to the new threat. He could feel it now, the itch that something was wrong and dangerous.

“What is the problem, that is merely Denjiro.”

“That isn’t Denjiro,” Momo said, pressing close to Kin’emon legs, attempting to hide behind the taller alpha. Sasaki didn’t blame the kid. Kin seemed a bit stupid, but at least he had a weapon.  

“Ooh, you found Momonosuke-sama,” The double said, beaming brightly. “How wonderful! Shall we meet with Kanjuro and share the good news.”

“Why would we meet with Kanjuro. Momonosuke-sama should be returned to his father,” Kin’emon said, confused.

“Ooh, Kin. Don’t you recall the mission orders?” Denjiro questioned, walking up to Kin, smile slowly pressing up wider and wider. Inhumanely wide grin, and flat teeth, too bright. Almost as if the facsimile of humanity was falling apart. Push too far, too fast, too long.

Sasaki twitched, claws sliding in and out of the beds. His skin felt tight and itchy and it was hard to keep still and wait as the clone approached, ignoring him in favor for Kin’emon and Momo. The clone might be talking to Kin’emon but those eyes behind the dark smoked shades were focus on the kid. Not him though…what ever this man fruit could do, it wasn’t aware.

It couldn’t spread information from individual to individual. Sasaki wasn’t being viewed as a thread, instead being ignored. Was he too far away from Momo? He could feel the reflexive hiss building in his chest, taste something bitter spilling over his tongue.

“Perhaps it might be best for you to back up, Denjiro. At least until I can explain things to our guest?” Kin’emon motioned to him, turning to include him. Asymmentical eyes concerned. “I think so many alpha’s are overwhelming him.”

He wasn’t being overwhelmed you stupid dumb fuck, fuck. Sasaki moved as the ink clone took the opening, pulling his sword from his sheaf, and thrust at the unprotected back. He tangled against the man, he might be taller but they weighed about the same. Sasaki could feel the sword hit and slide off his skin, an unnatural exhaustion seeping in his bones.

He scrambled off, claws raking in the tatami mat as he righted himself. “Momo, keep yourself close.” Sasaki watched the clone move, the kid quickly running towards them, tucking himself behind them. The blade was broken, ink sloughing off the edges. Sasaki hissed, tail lashing as he focused.

The clone looked over the sword before tossing it aside, drawing a second. Maybe this one was a bit smarter then the last. Still, the clone seemed to be vulnerable. Sasaki showed his fangs, watching him. He just needed to get one or two good blows to end it.

“What was that,” Kin’emon exclaimed righting himself and blocked the next swing of the sword with his own. “Denjiro, snap out of it.”

“Kin, that isn’t Denjiro,” Momo yelled.

Sasaki lashed out at a foot, wanting to cripple the clone. He grunted as the clone skidded back, lighter on his feet. He wished he had a weapon, stupid samurai. Sasaki got to his feet, panting slightly. “Come on, samurai. Get with the program.”

The clone hummed, picking up a small table and threw it at them.

Sasaki ducked, rolling away. He could hear Momo yelp as he was tugged close to the Kin as they scrambled away. The table shattered, splinters raining down. He found his feet, wavering slightly. There was a deep ache in his hip, settled in his guts, and exhaustion was weighing him down since he might have use armament.

Kin’emon and the Denjiro cloned crossed swords, both of them fast and light on their feet and skillful with a blade. Sasaki couldn’t find an opportunity to attack, instead tugging Momo close to him. “Okay, so maybe you were right about them being the strongest in Wano.”

“Told you,” Momo muttered, pressing against Sasaki side. “Can’t you do something? Like before?”

“I’m looking kid, it not that easy.” Sasaki said, watching. For him to get a blow in, one of them had to make a mistake, and Kin’emon was the one flagging. He was flesh and blood while the clone was tireless, pressing him in a corner, and disarmed him. Kin’emon sword clattered a short distance from his feet. The man panting as he laid on the floor, looking down the blade.

“I’m sorry Kin’emon. No hard feelings,” The clone said, lifting the sword above his head.

Sasaki struck, plunging his claws into the others back and spine. They sunk into the body, ink splattering up his arms as it bubbled and flowed. The clone fell to his knees, steadily loosing shape. Sasaki pressed harder, unable to find anything solid to grip.

He tugged his hands out, ink splattering the helm of his furisode. The clone looked back at him, those glasses sharp, and grinned. “You think you won?” It questioned, amused and thrust back its swords. Sasaki trembled, shocked as a blade sunk into his thigh, parting flesh as it dugged deep. 

What?

He blinked shocked, falling to his knees. That fucking hurt. He hissed, wincing as his fingers wrapped around the blade. It was solid it was… ooh shit, it was the blade Kin’emon had dropped. When had the clone picked it up.

The clone laughed and slumped, ink spilling out and soaked into the strawmats. Sasaki whined, high in his throat. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he had let his guard down and now he was stabbed and far away from home. He shut his eyes, swallowing down bile and pressed his head into his hands, biting back an urge to scream. Okay, okay. It was fine.

“Are you okay?” Momo called in his ear. “Am I supposed to take it out?”

“No, no. It stays in until we get to someone who has medical knowledge, or bandages.” He really wanted Eliza. Sasaki glanced at the sword and then away. “It keeps the blood in.” Sasaki liked his blood within his body. Breath in and out, slow and easy. Don’t panic.

He blinked as a heavy coat was draped around his shoulders, staring up at the concern face of Kin’emon. “You, are a stupid dick,” Sasaki declared, pissed at him. He could have made him a weapon, but no, and now he had a sword in his leg.

 “That’s fair, kid. But let me handle this.” Kin’emon said, reaching out and paused. “I need to see your leg. If that is alright?”

He nodded, slowly sliding it out with a wince. Oww. Oww. Sasaki swallowed, looking away as he huddled in the heavy coat, letting the man part the robe to check the injury.

“Well, it away from the artery, but it is clean though.”

“No shit,” Sasaki hissed, trying to keep calm. He tipped his head back, inhaling though his nose, and exhale though his mouth. In for three, out for six. “Do you even know haki?” He asked, bitter and sharp tongue. “The ink clones don’t show up with it. How did you guys not notice that half the people you left with have been replaced.”

He twitched hearing footsteps, attempted to stand, and hissed, allowing Kin’emon and Momo to push him back down on the floor. White hot pain radiated out from his leg, from toe to head and black spots radiated behind his eyes. Okay, okay, bad idea. Bad Idea. He couldn’t make out either of the voices frantically talking over his head.

Sasaki blinked, scrubbing tears from his face. “Bad idea,” he croaked, resting his head against his good leg, trying to relax. He swallowed, ignoring the hot liquid sliding down his leg. Alright, he made it worse. Good to know.

“Momonosuke?” A voice called, high pitched in his ears and frantic. He could hear a shoji door being pressed aside, sliding smoothly on the track.

Toki? He peered out, watching the woman rush in to embrace her son. A second samurai? Ninja? Followed behind her. No sign of Yamato or Hiyori. He wondered faintly where the two had gotten off to. He sent them ahead to find her.

Yams, where were you?

Sasaki blinked, pulled out of his thoughts as Toki was in front of him, gently touching his cheek and talking. He blinked, taking a breath and focused.

“Are you with us?”

“Sorry, yeah. I…” he trailed off, swallowing. “I really want to throw up.”

“Shit,” Toki said, all traces of a well breed lady gone. “One moment.” She snagged the nearest vase, and pushed it against him. “Just let it all up.”

He snagged the container, shoving his face in the mouth and shuddered, vomiting violently into the porcelain. It hurt; the moment jarred his leg. He spat, scrubbing his mouth and groaned. “Does anyone have any water?”

Sasaki eagerly accepted the water skin, even though the water was warm and flat. He sipped slowly, looking from Toki to the other behind her. “Did you see Yamato or Hiyori? They were supposed to find you.”

“No,” Toki said, lips pressing together. “But it can wait till we take care of your wound.”

“Fuck,” He scrubbed his palm against his forehead, tired. “Okay.” Where the heck did you two get off to, he wondered, bracing himself as Kin’emon gripped the blade and smoothly pulled it up and out. Sasaki hissed, claws shredding though the heavy silk as the pain hit.

He kept his face turned away, breathing shakily as pressure was applied to the wound and it was tightly wrapped. The wound throbbed, pulsing against the wraps with the beat of his heart. His toes curled into the tatami mat, tearing into the straw. His vision wavered, and he grasped the vase, spiting up bile.

“Easy,” Toki muttered, gently petting his back. “Just relax, you are going to be fine. We’re going to get you some painkillers.”  

~                                                                                        ~                                                                                ~

Yamato paused mid-step, head craning up. Something felt wrong. He didn’t know what, but something was wrong, and made his skin crawl.

“Yamato?” Hiyori questioned, holding on to Kikunojo’s hand. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. Something is wrong,” he said, hurrying to catch up with them. “I don’t know what. But something feels wrong,” Yamato repeated, doubled down, rubbing his arms as he pressed against Kikunojo, frowning. He took the offered hand, clenching tightly.

“Is that so?” Kikunojo asked. “We should be meeting with a friend soon. I can feel him close by.” She smiled sweetly at him. “So, be brave for me a little bit longer?”

“I can be brave,” he proclaimed. He had promised to protect Hiyori and that was what he was going to do. He startled as he heard footsteps and a tall man appear, with bright red curling hair, and a painted face. He was funny looking.

“Kanjuro! I was wondering where you had gotten to,” Kikunojo greeted. “Have you found Toki-sama?”

“No, but I am so glad you found Hiyori-sama and a friend.” He said, bending down to smile at them. “Hello.”

Yamato frowned, looking at the man. “Hi… you smell weird,” he said. Like squid ink, dirt, and something chilly. Yamato stepped behind Kikunojo as the man stepped closer, glaring at him.

The man laughed and stepped back. “That’s alright.”

“Still, that was rather rude,” Kikunojo said, surprise. “Why are you suddenly so shy? Kanjuro won’t hurt you.”

“It’s true,” Yamato grumbled. He wasn’t going to apologize. “He smells weird.”

“It is fine, we still have to inform Toki-sama what is going on… a little rudeness isn’t the end of the world.” He smiled. “I think I sense our lady a floor or so above us.” He rocked on his heels before turning. “Come along.”

Yamato scuffed his feet uncertain. He glanced at Hiyori. She smiled, bright and sunnily at him, swinging her hand in Kikunojo’s unconcerned. Maybe he was, okay? Maybe he just looked funny. He sighed, biting his lip and nodded, holding tight to Kikunojo’s hand as they followed him.

Chapter Text

Kaidou attempts to think of execution methods that would entertain Orochi and Oden can survive. Instead, he just traumatizes a whole lot of people.

“What about beheading?” Kaidou offered, sweating slightly in the midday sun. He yawned, jaw cracking, the mix of antibiotics and painkillers making him drowsy. The Madsaurus pulling the cart plodded on, steady and placid.

“Why would your first thought be beheading?” Eliza asked. “How is he supposed to survive a beheading?” She asked, shaking her head, riding in the back of the cart.  

“You just hold on till the ax or the sword breaks. It can be done,” he scratched at the bandage, irritated as the sweat building up made him itch. “I guess watching the weapon repeatedly breaking is more frustrating than entertaining.”

“Sir,” Eliza frowned, clasping her hands together. “You are making me question if Joseph might have a point. And the fact you are making me consider that he could be correct despite my absolutely loathing of that man is concerning.”

“If you want me to ever consider a courtship, my men have to be able to survive it as well,” Oden stressed. “No beheading,” he said firmly. “I would chance my own life, but not my vassals.”

“Mmhm.” Kaidou had already discard impalement, all forms of asphyxiation. “Firing squad…no,” that would be to fast. No guns, no arrows, not stones.

“Are you discarding the firing squad because you realize it will just kill him?” Eliza questioned.

“Mmh, more it be too fast,” Kaidou admitted. They needed something to impress the crowd and give him a reason to break with Orochi. Oden needed to survive. “I survive them all the time.”

“Sir, you are just making me wonder what your skin is made of. It is not helping.” Eliza folded her hands together, pressing them in front of her mouth. “And your bones, and your muscles… and how you are not a gibbering wreck.”

“How…many times have you been shot at?” Oden questioned.

“I…really can’t remember.” Kaidou frowned, thoughtful. “More than I can count.” From the battlefields of his childhood till the riots recently held in Wano would make it about… twenty-nine or so years of getting shot at. “A lot.”

“Would we consider pressing or is that too similar to stoning?” Kaidou muttered to himself, debating the method and discarded it. “No, that has the same issues with beheading doesn’t it.” Nothing that would depend on exposure. Nothing with fire… hmm. He leaned back in the cart, basking in the sun. “It is nice today.”

“Nice?” Oden muttered, resting his head on his knees, loosely bond with rope at his ankle and wrists. It was more of a formality at this point. Kaidou knew Oden wasn’t going anywhere. Eliza had changed his bandages, provided painkillers and antibiotics, and some suppressants. It was a slow process to wean an individual off suppressants, something they were still fine tuning.

The withdraw affects could get severe and unpleasant. Kaidou hadn’t experience any, and King had been young, not yet thirteen when he had been weaned off the suppressants. Thea and Salem had never touched them. When Eliza and Nel had joined, and Kaidou had broached the first attempt to start bringing more of his army off them, the results had been… messy.

Kaidou ran a hand though his hair, wincing at the greasy feel. “I want a bath,” he muttered. A nice hot one, he wanted to soak till he was dizzy… ahh. It would be a bit punny though. “Thoughts on boiling?” He brought up. “It isn’t one that I’ve been through before.”

“How many ways have they attempted to kill you?” Eliza paused and then shook her head. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“Exposure, beheading, firing squad, poison, hanging, stoning,” Kaidou listed off, counting on his fingers. “keelhauling, pressing, crucifixion, mmh…” he paused, considering. “Drowning, falling… that might be all of them… ooh no. Creatures. Nearly forgot that one.”

“I said I didn’t want to know,” Eliza bemoaned, slumping. “Sir, you owe me a therapist. We need a therapist.”

“Creatures?” Oden questioned, perking up slightly. “I’m sensing a story there.”

“Multiple,” Kaidou laughed deep and warm. “I spent a bit of time doing gladiator fights against what ever horrible beast they could scrounged up. There were a few times the Marines attempted to feed me to sea kings over the year as well.” He stretched, remembering the screams of the crowd in his ears and the roar of blood in his ears.

“Still. Do you think you could survive a boiling? I think you have the haki reserves to do so.” Kaidou looked over Oden, thoughtful. Oden had managed to cut though his skin with haki infused blades. Boiling was an execution method that should be instantaneous but had a possibility for Oden to manage some period of time and a possibility to protect his vassals.

“Possibly…” Oden admitted, voice slow and considering. “It certainly seems like a decent possibility for survival of my vassals,” he said, voice stronger and more certain. “How do you plan to get Orochi to agree?”

“That should be easy enough. It is a pun, and Orochi is nothing but simple man,” Kaidou grinned, sharp and dangerous. It would be a simple sell. “It is up to you to make what ever challenge you decide to win your life with entertaining.”  

“How many days would I have?”

“Probably three… maybe more. Orochi going to want to make this a spectacle and that will take time.” Kaidou grinned sharply. “Which will benefit you. Take the time to recover.” He would make sure Oden was well fed during the break. Thea could deliver their meals, the woman was slippery, and took pleasure in slipping around the Oniwabanshu. 

“I want you to shoot Orochi.”

“Ooh?” Kaidou looked at Oden, intrigued. “If he refuses to honor your challenge; I will shoot him.” The dragon curled in his mind, interested in the challenge. Orochi could make a very find first courtship gift.

“I accept your revision,” Oden answered, settling back against the cart rail, looking over the country side. “Prove that I can trust you.”

He would do that and more. Kaidou rumbled, daydreaming slightly on what he wanted to do to Oden. Maybe design his collar… if Oden would allow himself to be marked in such a way. Maybe a wave motif.

Chapter Text

Kanjuro itched under his skin, a bubbling that was barely settled after the second backlash of his own power. He kept his face blank as he stepped into the room, scanning over the faces as he spread his arms in relief. “Toki-sama,” he greeted, walking to her, eager but not frantic.

Momonosuke was snuggled against his mother’s leg. Toki was tall, serene, and graceful, reaching up to carefully take his offered hands in her own soft cool ones. “Kanjuro-san,” she greeted, relief in her tone and eyes. “I’m so glad you arrived safely.”

He smiled, gently gripping not to tight, firm and careful. “I apologize that we did not get here sooner. If we had just pushed a little more, perhaps we could have cut them off before they arrived at the castle.”

Momonosuke was nervous, wide eye and trembling. Scared. There was a splatter of blood on his wrist. Not his, that belonged to the carefully tied up omega between Raizo and Kin’emon. He was young, barely presented, smelling of lotus blooms, salt, and ice. Horns arched back, ivory points without the distinctive curve of Kaidou’s. Fanged mouth, small tusks, likely still growing in. The tail was long, covered in green luscious fur. His leg was bandaged, tight, and neat, with a patch of red dotting the middle. And over all that was the scent of ozone.

Kaidou’s eldest. The tail was unique to him, a easy tell without the elaborate costume he wore around the flower capital. So, he had Kaidou’s eldest and youngest child, one wounded, in Kuri castle. He noted it down quickly, moving down smoothly to greet Momonosuke.

“I am glad to see you well, Momonosuke-sama,” he said. “Hiyori-sama was worried about you.”

“You met my sister?” He questioned, hopeful. “Is she well?”

“She is with Kikunojo-san. Inuarashi- san and Nekomamushi-san is with them.” He stood carefully, trying to downplay the tenderness in his flesh. He was sore, from head to toe, his body brutalized from the backlash. How that had happened still was an uncomfortable mystery. He brushed his hands against his kimono, brushing back his hair in a move of nonchalant.

“I did not want to bring her here without checking for dangerous. Her safety, and yours is my number one priority.” He bowed, low. “Please forgive me, for not immediately telling you.”

“It is alright. Perhaps you could help me with our unexpected guest?” She motioned him to join her, crossing the room to gently kneel in front of the youth. “He mentioned something about seeking amnesty, but with the current attack. I am unsure of his true attentions.”

“I see,” Kanjuro mused. He did not see, what was the youth doing here? He was ruining his master plan, and it had been going so well. Still, he could use this. He just had to find a way to work the kid into the attack somehow. Cool blue eyes glanced up at him though green lashes, pain reflecting in the ocean hues. “It was sound decision to restrain him.”

It was tied a bit odd though. His hands were bound in front of him, with an obi belt, the silk having some give to it. His ankles were the same, almost as if they were giving the illusion of binding him. Kanjuro reached over, carefully tugging on the silk to make sure it was firmly in place.

It had some give, but the tie was firm, the youth giving a little grunt as he shifted, wincing as his injured leg twitched.

“I don’t know what you expect me to get from him, that Kin’emon couldn’t do better,” Kanjuro said, glancing up at Kin’emon, noticing the man scowl. Kin’emon had the background for it. Though perhaps the youth dynamic was making him refuse. The kid had to just present, away from his father, vulnerable. “Though, perhaps he sought out asylum because of his presentation.”

Kanjuro picked up a flare of anger from the kid, those eyes narrowing, the lips pressed tightly. He didn’t like that theory. Perhaps he hit the issue on the head. Or found a soft spot.

“What use could Kaidou have with an omega presented child. Outside of cementing an alliance though marriage, no more then a pawn,” he drawled. “Depending on who would even be interested in the child of such a notorious pirate.” He reached down, fingers pressing under the youth’s chin, lifting his face up. “Is that what you are running from? Being married off?”

“That is the last thing I’m worried about. I was waiting for you to touch me,” the youth said, calm and plunged his bound hands forwards, clawed tips sinking effortlessly though him.

Kanjuro was frozen in place, eyes widening slowly as he panicked. He couldn’t move, the two hands anchoring him in places as claws scrapped something inside him. Ink dripped down his skin, releasing from his hair. He couldn’t find the will or energy to move.

~                                                                         ~                                                                                             ~

Sasaki could feel it, the weird pulse like a living thing fluttering in the man’s chest. The same as what had drawn him to Gecko Moria three years earlier during his raid on Ringo’s cemeteries.  That hadn’t gone well. This battle though, ink oozing around his arms almost elbow deep in the man’s chest. He pressed his bond hands up deeper, fingers opening wide to carefully cup the smooth wide bottom of the living pulse and tugged.

Ink bubbled out, splattering the mats as he pulled his hands free and the man dropped like a stone, eyes wide and starring at the ceiling. “Hnn… is he dead?” Sasaki questioned, pulling the devil fruit close to his body. He extended his good leg, prodding prone figure. It looked like his chest was moving, maybe. Ehh, wasn’t his problem. Kin’emon and Raizo were scrambling over to Kanjuro. They could handle it. Instead, he looked over his prize.

It was black and white, with a wide bottom, covered in smooth swirls and tapered up to a thin neck. He could feel the power in it. It felt a bit like a bee sting, pulsing lowly in his hands, and making his palms itch.

“Sasaki?”

He blinked, looking up at Toki. “Is he alive?” He questioned, tucking the fruit into the wide furisode sleeves. “Did it work?” They had wanted to take Kanjuro by surprise to see if they could disrupt the power to keep from fighting the rest of the clones.

“It worked; the clones lost their form the moment that fruit was removed.” Toki glanced at the sleeve, intrigue in her eyes. “What is it?”

“It is a devil fruit. It is what give them powers. You eat it and you obtain a power and invoke the ocean’s wrath.” He shifted, the hilt of his tanto sliding out from where it had been hidden between his thighs.

“No, let me.” Toki reached down, picking up the short blade and expertly sliced though his bindings. “I thought we had agreed that we would try to capture him without you attempting to pull out his power.”

“We did, but then he talked smack about my dad and it pissed me off,” Sasaki shrugged, rubbing his wrist. The obi had disintegrated to smoke when it had been sliced. The marks remained, slightly red. “It was going to be faster for me to try it. It worked well.”

He glanced at the man, slowly being sat up and bond. “He has such a bad vibe, how did you not suspect him to be the spy earlier?”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” Toki replied. “We have survived and I need you to contact your father. You said you had a way?”

“Yeah, the snail should still be where I left it,” Ssaki carefully ran his fingers though his hair, searching out his private transponder snail and coaxed it out. “There you are.” He ran a finger over the shell, soothing it. “I need to call dad, are you up for that?”

The snail blinked before nodding, drawing itself up.

“Thanks,”

Sasaki dialed up the familiar number, setting the snail on his good knee as he waited. It purred lazily before giving a click, features shifting into the familiar face of his dad. Sasaki frowned, at the fully closed left eye stalk.

“What did you do to your eye?” He demanded, before his dad could greet him.

“Worororo, is that how you greet your father?” His father sounded relaxed. “It is a minor injury, don’t fret about it. Where are you at, boy? I had expected you and your brother to be home by now.”

“Kuri castle. I went to talk to Toki and got stabbed,” Sasaki griped. “I would blame the Oniwabanshu, or the thugs, but instead it was one of Kanjuro creations. So, who tipped off Orochi’s spy?”

“You alright, brat?”

“It is just a fat wound… it hurts, but it didn’t hit anything vital. I still want Eliza to look at it.” It had been neatly bandaged, but he likely needed some stiches and some antibiotics.  Sasaki sighed. “Dad, what did you do?”

“Higurashi was plotting to interrupt the fight; I killed her in front of her men and had to get rid of them somehow. She had her cypher book with her, so Salem constructed a false message.”

“And you didn’t think to warn me?”

“Kid, I didn’t know you were there. I cannot read your mind.”

“Would you have let me leave?”

“Matters, would have told me what you were doing?”

“Maybe,” Sasaki sighed. “I wanted to do it on my own to impress you after I fucked up with Moria.”

“Brat, you don’t need to impress me, you need to actual tell me shit,” Kaidou sighed over the snail. “How is Yamato?”

“Fine, I think? We got separated.” Sasaki glanced at Toki. “Is Yamato and Hiyori okay?”

“They are fine, Kikunojo is watching them. If I may?” She nodded to the snail.

“Toki wants to talk to you,” he said, passing the snail carefully into Toki’s cupped hands. She smiled at him before walking off, talking softly to the mollusk as she sought out some privacy.

Now who the fuck was Kikunojo again, and where was his brother?

~                                                                                 ~                                                                                                ~

“Am I allowed to go now?” Yamato asked, clinging to Kikunojo sleeve and eyeing the room. Everyone was in there. His brother was in there. He wanted to be in there too. “Kikuuuu, I want to see my brother.” He rocked on his feet.

Ink was soaking into the tatami mats where the minks and fishman had melted into ink pools. That had been sort of cool, though Hiyori had cried. Yamato just really wanted to check on Sasaki and maybe talk to his dad. He could hear Kaidou talking to someone over a snail.

He whined slightly, dancing on his feet, antsy. Let him go, let him go.

Kikunojo shook her head, gently petting his hair. “Just a little longer, I’m your big sis, am I not?” She questioned.

“Yes,” Yamato nodded, reaching up to capture her hand. “We are the same! And I always wanted a big sister.” He had a big brother and Sasaki was mostly amazing, sometime he was a butt. A big sister had to be better!

“Then we wait, till someone gets us. I have to keep you and Hiyori-sama safe from harm.”

Yamato heaved a sigh, pouting as he sat down. “Fineee,” he exclaimed, blowing out his cheeks. He could wait, though waiting was sooo boring. He grumbled, flopping on the ground. “Are you okay, Hiyori?”

She sniffed, sitting down beside him. “I will be. I’m upset.”

Yamato reached out, gently grasping Hiyori’s hands. “It will be okay! You just got to believe in them.” He grinned brightly. “We’re together, so it isn’t scary.”

Hiyori giggled watery, resting against Yamato. “I guess so.”

Toki stepped out, holding a transponder snail. “Yamato, did you want to speak to your father?” She questioned.

“Yes!” Yamato stood, eagerly reaching up to take the snail from Toki’s palm. “Dad! I bit a man,” he proclaimed eagerly.

“Did you now?”

“I did! Sasaki and I got separated, and a man tried to touch me and Hiyori, so I bit him. Hard. And then Kikunojo showed up and killed him,” he said, rapidly into the snail. “Just like I’m supposed to.”

“Is that so? I don’t remember, bite a man being part of your lessons.”

“Thea said, that if anyone tries to grab me. I’m to make a fuss by kicking, yelling, screaming what ever I need to do to break away. So, I bite him, because I could.”

“Worororo, that’s my boy. Good job, brat.”

Yamato beamed. “Are you going to come and pick us up? Or are we staying?” He questioned.

“Nel going to meet you on the road. Some things have come up so I can’t meet with you.”

“Ooh,” Yamato bit down his disappointment. “Okay.”

“Give the snail back to Toki, kiddo. We’ll meet each other in three days’ time.”

“’K.” Yamato walked over to Toki and Hiyori, Hiyori cradled in Toki’s lap as they talked to each other. “Here,” he offered, pressing the snail onto Toki. “Can I see Sasaki now?”

“Ooh, I’m apologize sweet heart. Of course, you can see your brother,” Toki accepted the snail. “Just be careful of his wound.”

“Wait, he’s wounded?” Yamato blinked in disbelief before sprinting into the other room. “Sasakiiiii.” He tossed himself at his sibling, getting a grunt of shock and clambered up in his lap. “You’re hurt? How did you get hurt? Where?” His brother face was pinched, his breathing tight.

“Yams, get off my lap, please,” he strangled out. “You’re, you are sitting on it.”

“Ooh, ooh! Sorry,” Yamato scrambled off, clinging to his brother’s side like a limpet. “Are you going to be, okay? How did you even get hurt?”   

“Yes, yes, I’m going to be okay. It not important,” Sasaki muttered, swinging an arm over his shoulders, pressing him close. “You good?”

“I bit a man!” Yamato proclaimed proudly.

“Don’t be so proud of that! What the heck?” Sasaki said, looking over Yamato.

Chapter Text

Oden leaned against the wall of the prison, watching his citizens gossip as they crowded into the execution grounds. He sighed, letting his breath out slowly. It wasn’t their fault. They were his citizens and he was their lord no matter if they believed Orochi’s lies. The execution would be soon and he would know then if Kaidou would keep his word.  He just had to survive it and if he could not, make sure the others would.

He looked over the five men with him, a low shimmer of anger in his gut at the missing three. Kanjuro, how could you have betrayed me. He breathed slowly, fingers cutting into his palm at the anger. At the very least, Kikunojo, Kin’emon, and Raizo were safe and would protect his son, no matter the outcome. His swords had been gifted to his children, the blades out of Kaidou’s or Orochi’s grasp.

Toki had spent the nights with him in the privacy of a private room. It had been small and bare and Oden wasn’t sure to thank or curse Kaidou for the precious gift of spending a few more precious moments with her. No, he couldn’t think of that. He needed to focus. He would defeat this and reunite with Toki and all will be well.  

He walked proudly into the arena, eyes locking on Kaidou and stumbled slightly before gathering himself. Kaidou was dressed in a soft cotton yukata and juban with an elaborate uchikake spread out behind him. He was wearing a full juban of shuiro, the vermilion red muslin signifying good luck, draped over him, bright and brilliant against the white of the bandages and the ink pitch darkness of the plain yukata decorated with his jolly roger. The uchikake was embroidered with a phoenix. His wild hair had been pulled back in a loose tail in an attempt to tame it. An eye patch had replaced the bandages. He looked good…a savage lord after a hard-won battle.

Orochi had the silks and brocades and looked dumpy and small. Like a small boy playing dress up with his mother’s discarded clothes. He seemed displeased at Kaidou’s guests, frowning at his servants as they served him sake.

Kaidou met his eyes, lips spreading in a smooth smile before hiding it behind his sake cup. Oden couldn’t place the man that leaned against him to speak in his ear. He was towering, face hidden with a noh mask and a massive mane of black feathers. Kaidou chuckled, nodding, holding out the cup to be refilled. Eliza was tiny, dressed not in Kaidou’s uniform but in a simple green and white yukata, with a large canvas bag by her feet. A second woman with iron gray hair; her face lined with age sat beside her, dressed in the uniform of a nurse.

Would he be honorable and keep to their agreement? Oden stood at the end of the platform facing him. “If I may speak?” He called, standing bold at the end of the pier, the heat of the oil steaming up.

“Of course,” Kaidou replied, motioning him to continue, ignoring Orochi cough.  

“All six of us will enter together, if any of us withstands the boiling for the amount of time you decide, they go free.” Oden declared, meeting Kaidou eye and saw a subtle gleam as he nodded minutely.

“Get a clock,” Kaidou ordered. “You have half an hour. Impress us with your death, samurai.” Kaidou motioned for the clock to be set down, and lifted the cup of sake up as if toasting him.

“Do I have your word?” Oden demanded, looking over the cauldron of popping oil the liquid splattering up sizzling against the wood.  

“Of course.”  Kaidou declared.

Oden breathed, tapping into his stores of Ryuo and stepped into the boiling oil, willing himself to withstand the heat. He would not let this be in vain. He pulled the docks plank above his head, ordering his men ontop of it and stood strong beneath their weight. Thirty minutes. Was he waiting for him to die? Was this supposed to be a mercy? Oden breathed and steady himself.

He ignored his men’s squabbling above him, focus on the people. He had to be strong and impress his citizens, he needed to win back their hearts if this was to work. He needed to be strong. Oden really needed Shinobu to speak up.

He bit his lip, keeping steady as she began to speak, despite the precious weight of his men pushing him down in the oil.  He would stay strong, steady, he would survive this.

~                                                                                         ~                                                                                ~

Kaidou watched Oden as he sweated in the boiling heat, slowly sipping from his cup as Orochi fretted beside him, calling for them to raise the temperature. It was passed the halfway mark and the kunoichi had done well in rising the people’s ire. He motioned his soldiers to stand down, as Orochi began to rant and have his men shoot down the dissenters in the crowd.

No need to make them any more of an enemy then they already were. He motioned to King, leaning into his space mouth brushing his ear behind the golden Noh mask. “Make sure the men are kept calm and do not cause any injuries. Keep the people here if possible.” He settled back to watch, content as his second in command left his side to deal with his recruits.

“If I survive the boiling, I would like to open up this country.”

What was this? Kaidou frowned, listening to him speak. Did he really believe that his country could withstand the world government? Did he think that this figure was what? Going to be their savior? That they would stay and not leave them to continue on their way. He shook his head, finishing his cup and waved off the serving girl that approached to pour more.

They needed to have a talk. Opening Wano was dangerous. He yawned, as the people began to celebrate, as the clock clicked to the thirty-minute mark and Orochi man went on the move, forming a firing squad. Kaidou stood carefully, slipping his gun out of the holster hanging from the obi with a netsuke carving of a little oni.

“Open Wano’s boarders!” Oden called, and flipped his men over his head the samurai fleeing and Orochi’s men following, shooting at them. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating our samurai!”

Kaidou walked down the steps carefully as Orochi screamed in the background, bringing up his gun. “You will die a spectacular death that is talked for ages, some day. Just not today,” he said and swung around shooting Orochi right between the eyes to the screams of the crowd.

Kaidou slipped the gun back in its holster, reaching down to lift Oden out of the cauldron and up onto the dais next to Eliza. “If you would?” He said, motioning to Eliza as she hurried over to his side, and started to run triage.

Kaidou sat down, watching Orochi’s body twitch. King was giving orders to the men, directing them in their retreat of the capital, Oden being carried off with them to the safety of Onigashima. He grinned sharply as the man sat up, laughter escaping him. “Worororo, still alive, are we?” He said, watching him sit up.

“You betrayed me.” Orochi said shocked.

“I simply gave my resignation. I have found new employment opportunities.” Kaidou replied, tapping the gun against his thigh. “Is this truly a surprise? You clearly had your doubts about my abilities considering you had the old hag spy on me. Plotted to dishonor me.”

“I may not be able to kill you, Orochi,” Kaidou mused, looking down at him. “But that doesn’t mean the Oden can’t take off your head.” He chuckled, crackling his knuckles against the man’s brow. “I guess that means you get to stay alive until he recovers. Enjoy your time alive, Orochi.”

He stood, glancing around the area. Most of his men were gone now, leaving just a cluster waiting for him. The civilians had bolted. Orochi soldiers were frozen, shocked speechless.

“You will regret this,” Orochi hissed.

Kaidou snorted, looking back at the bloodied man. “Somehow, I doubt it,” he said and walked off, motioning the men to fall in line. He had work to do.