The streets of Ringo were hushed beneath the falling snow. Only a small crowd remained, their breath misting in the air as their voices carried in low, uneasy gossip. Parents tugged their children close, whispering warnings and shaking their heads.
The man at the center of it all Kozuki Oden had just finished his ridiculous dance, ending with a wide grin and a booming declaration:
"Oden wouldn't be Oden if he wasn't boiled!"
For a moment, silence. Then a few children clapped, their innocent laughter echoing in the cold. But their parents quickly pulled them away, scolding them in harsh whispers.
"Don't imitate that shameful display!"
"Have respect! That is no way for the heir of Wano to act."
Some adults shook their heads in disappointment, others turned their backs entirely, unable to bear the sight of their once-proud savior reduced to a fool.
The snowflakes drifted down silently, as if trying to cover the shame of the scene.
Oden laughed, his voice hearty, unbothered by the scorn. He carried a basket in his hand, passing it around to the lingering villagers as though he were a street performer. Coins clinked reluctantly into the basket, more out of pity than generosity.
When he turned, his gaze fell on two figures standing apart from the crowd.
Ushimaru, proud daimyo of Ringo, wrapped in his haori. And beside him, the young Mamoru, a boy of ten whose navy hair fluttered in the cold wind. Just from a glance one could tell they were father and son. Onimaru crouched loyally by their side, his fur dusted with snow.
Oden strode toward them, basket swinging in his hand, his grin never faltering.
Ushimaru's expression was heavy, a knot of conflict twisting in his chest. He bowed slightly, though his voice carried a hard edge.
"Lord Oden… for how long will you keep this up?"
For just a moment, the laughter on Oden's face flickered. His eyes, sharp beneath the fool's smile, darted away as though he couldn't bear the question. Then, just as quickly, he laughed again, waving a hand dismissively.
"I don't know what you're talking about. All I'm doing is working ,working to provide for my family." His tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent to his words, as if they carried a weight no one else could see.
Ushimaru's frown deepened. He wanted to press further, but his lips stayed sealed. He was not blind there was something hidden here, some reason. And yet, watching the great heir of Wano reduced to this , it was a bitter wound in his heart.
Mamoru stepped forward, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I thought it was a great dance, Lord Oden," he said earnestly. His young voice carried no scorn, no hesitation, only admiration. Just like his father he believed that there must be a reason why Oden was doing this , how could there not, would a great Samurai like this simply abandon his people when they need most, he wouldnt right ?
Oden blinked, his wide grin breaking into laughter. "At last! Someone with an eye for true art!" he roared, slapping his knee.
But Mamoru wasn't lying. Even as he watched Oden twirl and laugh like a fool, deep inside, Mamoru felt something else a pressure, a strength unlike anything he had felt before. Oden's spirit was undeniable, despairing in its sheer force. This man… even while dancing… he is strong , very strong.
The boy clenched his fist silently at his side. There must be a reason, There has to be , Lord Oden wouldn't do this without reason.
Ushimaru's eyes softened for a moment as he glanced at his son. His faith was unshaken, even when adults had already turned their backs.
"Lord Oden," Ushimaru said at last, "you've come a long way. Surely, at least share a meal and some tea with us before you leave."
Oden waved a hand, shaking his head. "Ah, no, no… I must be off. My family is waiting, and I can't waste time "
But Mamoru stepped forward, his eyes wide and bright with sincerity.
"Please, Lord Oden. Just a meal. I makes the best tea in Ringo. You came all the way here… it would make me happy if you joined us."
For a moment, Oden paused. He looked down at the boy, his usual booming laughter caught in his throat. The innocence in Mamoru's words, the honesty in his eyes it was disarming in a way no sword could be.
Oden scratched the back of his head as his eyes darted left and right looking for a way out . Finally letting out a chuckle.
"Well… if both of you insist…"
Ushimaru gave a small nod of satisfaction, though his expression remained carefully composed.
"Good, then come. The snow is falling heavier, and a warm fire will do us all good."
The three turned and began walking through the streets of Ringo, Onimaru padding silently behind. The snow crunched beneath their feet, the silence of the town pressing in on them now that the crowd had dispersed.
As they walked, Mamoru stole glances at Oden, still baffled but strangely reassured. He was now dressed in his orange haori. Oden may have been laughing like a fool, but Mamoru's heart told him not to regard this as a weakness.
When they arrived at Ushimaru's home, the fire was stoked, and tea was prepared. Oden sat cross-legged, his massive frame nearly dwarfing the small table. His laughter filled the room again as he recounted silly stories of his travels . Ushimaru and Mamoru could both tell how much Oden had enjoyed his travels.
In that quiet home, with snow drifting outside the paper windows, the daimyo of Ringo, his son, and the heir of Wano shared a meal together.