Chapter Text
Zoro’s not expecting to be summoned back to the palace while he's in the middle of his daily training, and he’s expecting even less to find not only his great uncle but also his grandmother waiting for him. Eyeing the pair warily, he gives serious thought to turning right back around until Ushimaru beckons him inside with an impatient wave of his hand.
“Do I even want to know?” He asks. Taking in the available space, he settles down on a mat that’s directly across from his grandmother and to Ushimaru’s right, folding his legs beneath himself and keeping all three of his swords close at hand. “What’s going on?”
His grandmother makes a face at the same time Ushimaru lets out a deep breath. “We’ve received a message from the Flower Capital,” he says, referring to the city where Wano’s ruling family is based. “They in turn have received a message from the King of Germa.”
It takes Zoro a moment to place the name. His formal education had started late by noble standards, and he likewise hadn’t been particularly keen on any bits not involving swordsmanship. Nevertheless, it clicks for him in the end.
“The country in the north?” He says finally. “The one with the big naval presence?”
“That would be the one,” Ushimaru confirms. “Although, as I understand it, their navy isn’t what it once was.”
“Well, yes,” Furiko cuts in snidely. “That’s what happens when you spend centuries waging war against anyone within reaching distance. That kind of thing tends to wear a nation down.”
“Quite,” Ushimaru agrees with a nod at his sister. “Hence my previous comment.”
Recognizing the signs of an impending sniping match between the siblings, Zoro clears his throat. Hoping to head the brewing argument off at the pass, he waits until both sets of eyes are back on him, and then asks, “What does Germa want with us?”
“An alliance,” his grandmother replies, her eyes narrowed. “That’s got to be it.”
“The communication doesn’t say anything to that effect,” Ushimaru notes, “but,” he adds before Furiko can speak again, “you’re probably right. Germa is lacking in friends these days, and Wano has plenty of resources that Vinsmoke Judge would love to get his hands on.”
Assuming that’s the Germa king, Zoro cocks his head to the side. “Like what?” He asks, curious in spite of himself.
Ushimaru gives him a look that suggests he should already know the answer to that question, but makes no move to actually chastise him. “Germa prides itself on being a nation of military and technological innovators - ”
“Warmongers,” Furiko supplies helpfully.
“ - but the fact that they’re largely water based means they lack many of the natural resources needed to create said innovations. Natural resources is something Wano has in spades. At least, now that we’ve recovered from the war twenty years ago.”
Since he hadn’t been living in Wano at the time and had been barely a year old, Zoro has no memory of the war in question. He’s heard all the stories, however, and knows how hard the people have worked to return Wano to its former glory. The thought of this Judge person possibly wanting to try and take that all away makes his skin crawl. “So what did the Germa king actually say?”
“He’s proposed a royal state visit,” Ushimaru says, dropping this line with all the gravitas it deserves. “He intends to travel to Wano with his five children in tow, in the hopes of ‘bettering international relations’.”
“Oh, call it what it is, you old warhorse,” Furiko huffs. “Vinsmoke Judge has an unmarried daughter in Crown Princess Reiju and four eligible sons. I doubt he’ll want to offer up the girl any more than Lord Momonosuke would be prepared to take a wife outside of Wano, but that leaves the quadruplets as potential suitors for Lady Hiyori. That’s what he’s after. A political marriage.”
“More than likely,” Ushimaru concedes. “It would make the most sense anyway.”
“That’s shitty,” Zoro says, earning a snort from his grandmother and an exasperated sigh from his uncle. “If these guys are anything like as obnoxious as their father sounds, Hiyori’s going to hate this.”
“Hiyori won’t be the only one,” his grandmother says pointedly, her tone such that Zoro immediately tenses. “That’s why we called you in here, darling. In response to the Vinsmoke’s impending visit, Lord Momonosuke has summoned all the daimyos to the Flower Capital.”
“The daimyos and their heirs, if they have them,” Ushimaru adds just as pointedly. “And since Germa will have already started their journey, we’re to begin our own preparations to travel at once.”
“Oh, come on,” Zoro groans. His hatred of his noble status has long since been established, but never does he make it more evident than during times like this. “You can’t be serious!”
“About a direct order from the Shogun?” Ushimaru says incredulously. “I think you’ll find that if there’s anything I can be serious about, that’s it.”
Zoro aims a pleading look in his grandmother’s direction, but she’s got a hand raised before he can so much as get a word out. “I can’t help you here,” she says simply. “But, if it’s any comfort to you, I also can’t help myself. My erstwhile little brother here has decided that I’m to join you both on this fool’s errand as well.”
Ushimaru gives her a bland smile. “If you didn’t want to be in a position where I could give you orders, you shouldn’t have run off to have adventures fifty plus years ago and abdicated your claim as heir to Ringo in the process.”
“Please,” Furiko scoffs. “We both know I’d ignore your so-called ‘orders’ if I felt like it. I’m coming along because someone’s got to play peacemaker between the two of you when Zoro inevitably starts chafing under all your rules and etiquette. I’m trying to avoid having our family be at the centre of an international incident.”
“A noble goal if ever there was one,” Ushimaru says dryly, while Zoro resigns himself to the fact that this is apparently happening. “I’ll have the household begin packing first thing tomorrow.”
“This sucks,” Zoro grumbles, sinking lower in his seat.
*****
“Ugh, this is awful,” Sanji groans. “Genuinely, truly, terribly awful. Why am I being dragged along on this foolish venture again?”
Reiju doesn’t bother to look up from where she’s casually examining her nails. “Because Father wants to present a united front as part of his plan to engage Wano in an alliance, and doing so would be rather difficult if a prince of the Royal family was noticeably absent while all the others were accounted for.”
“I fail to see how,” Sanji says, sinking low enough in his seat that he’s in danger of sliding out of it entirely and onto the floor. “I’ve been ‘noticeably absent’ from more formal events than I’ve attended over the years.”
“In Germa,” Reiju says, finally deigning to glance away from her manicure. “That’s different and you know it.”
“By which you mean all of Germa’s nobles are aware of my status as Judge’s least favorite son,” Sanji says. “And, more importantly, they don’t ask about my whereabouts because they don’t want to inadvertently paint themselves as sympathizers. What a wonderful country we hail from.”
“It’s rotten to the core,” Reiju agrees, yet without sounding terribly bothered by this. “Frankly, I would have thought you’d be happy to see the back of it for a while. You do realize we’re going to be gone for months, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I’m not an idiot,” Sanji snipes, “and I know how to read a map. Between the travel itself and the weeks we’ll be spending in Wano, an entire season should have passed by the time we get back to Germa.”
“Exactly,” Reiju agrees. “And since you’ve got a tendency to be quite vocal about how much you hate the place - ”
“Only when I’m around you because, again, not an idiot.”
“ - you should enjoy the fact that you’re not going to see it again for quite a while.” Reiju blinks slowly, her face as expressionless as ever. “I really don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem,” Sanji says, thumping one of the arms of his chair with an exasperated hand, “is that I’m being used as a pawn in Judge’s latest brain trust. He doesn’t actually want me along, and nor does he have any expectations of me being useful for that matter. He just has a certain image he wants to project, and that’s it.”
“Of course it is,” Reiju says, her tone making it obvious that she still doesn’t see why this is an issue. “What did you expect?”
Sanji groans, long and low, and covers his face with the fingers of one hand. “Oh, nothing, I suppose,” he mutters, his words muffled. “But part of me wishes Judge wasn’t quite so predictable. Do we even know if Wano has any interest in an alliance with us?”
“Not formally, no,” Reiju admits. “However, for all that it’s wealthy and powerful, Wano’s been extremely isolated for centuries. It’s only been within the last few years, since Lord Momonosuke came of age, that they’ve begun venturing outside their borders. That means they’re lacking in allies when compared to most other countries.”
“And are thus ripe for the plucking,” Sanji surmises, unsurprised when Reiju shrugs in response. “That still doesn’t mean they’re actually interested in aligning with Germa. They could simply be being polite, or curious even.”
“That’s true,” Reiju says. “Which is why it’s important that we make a good impression during this visit. If Father gets his way, and one of us is lucky enough to form a connection with one of the Kozuki siblings, the rest should fall into place easily enough.”
“Because that’s likely,” Sanji says, each word dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve never had the pleasure or privilege of meeting Lady Hiyori, but I find it extremely unlikely that Ichiji, Niji, or Yonji is going to be able to sweep her off her feet. They’re brutes.”
“Brutes who know how to follow orders,” Reiju counters. “At least when Father is the one giving them, anyway. So long as he tells them to keep themselves in line, they will.”
“And if he says the opposite, they absolutely won’t,” Sanji says. Having had ample opportunity to experience his brothers’ less than stellar behaviour over the past twenty-one years, he has absolutely no desire to see them set loose around the Kozuki princess. Or any innocent person for that matter. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“You’d better hope not,” Reiju tells him. “If this mission goes poorly, there’s a good chance that Father will find a way to blame you, simply because you’re taking part in it.”
Which would mean there’d be some kind of retribution, Sanji’s well aware. If luck was on his side, he’d get to spend the foreseeable future as his brothers’ punching bag. If it wasn’t, well, as far as he knows his old cell in the dungeons is still vacant.
Grunting, he lets his head fall back against his chair and stares up at the ceiling. “Are the Kozukis the only people we’ll be playing this game with? I know they’re the ruling family, but, from what I recall of my history lessons, there are a number of high ranking noble houses that run various regions of the country.”
“The Kozukis, the Shimotsukis, the Korazumis, the Uzukis, the Amatsukis, and the Fugetsus,” Reiju recites dutifully. “The Korazumis were removed from power decades ago when their leader tried to kill the Shogun of the time, and the last of them was killed during the attempted coup twenty years ago. As I understand it, a separate branch of the Shimotsuki family now governs their territory.”
“Thereby making them the second most powerful family in Wano?” Sanji guesses. “I wonder if Judge would accept one of them as a substitute if neither Kozuki sibling will have us.”
“That would require them to have a suitable heir,” Reiju replies. “As I understand it, Shimotsuki Yasuie, the daimyo of Hakumai, has a daughter who’s barely six years old, and Shimotsuki Ushimaru, the daimyo of Ringo, has no children at all. Likewise, the children of the other three daimyo are all in their forties and fifties.”
Sanji makes a face at this. He wouldn’t put it past Judge to marry his children off to people twice their age if he thought it could get him more power, but doing so would be distasteful to say the least.
“So the Kozuki siblings really are the only potential options then,” he says. “Those are not great odds.”
“Well not with that attitude,” Reiju says, and goes back to looking at her nails.
*****
Peering through a crack in the curtains of the carriage window, Zoro’s unsurprised to find that the Flower Capital looks much the same as ever. After weeks on the road he’s excited to see the end of traveling for a while, but that’s about all he’s pleased about.
Through the window come the sights and sounds of the Capital’s busy streets. Crowded with people and all manner of other accoutrements, it’s enough to leave him feeling overwhelmed at the mere thought of having to get out and face it.
Truly, the Flower Capital’s never been his favorite place in Wano. While it does have some things going for it - it’s far more temperate climate for instance - he prefers the slower pace and quiet of Ringo to this bustling hub of activity.
Sadly, the same can’t be said of the Kozuki family. They’d settled here centuries ago, and Momonosuke and Hiyori had been as equally content as their ancestors to call it home in the wake of Orochi’s coup attempt. Protected by their late father’s retainers, they’ve lived here for the past twenty years, happily ensconced in the Shogun’s Palace.
And speaking of said palace, the carriage makes a deliberate turn onto the road that will take them to it. The driver must overdo something, however, because the entire contraption lurches hard enough that Onimaru, who’d been curled up asleep by Ushimaru’s hip, nearly goes spilling onto the floor.
His uncle isn’t quite fast enough when he grabs for him, meaning it’s up to Zoro to catch the fox-like creature from where he’s seated across from him. Onimaru’s thick fur brushes over the younger swordsman’s fingers as he fights to steady himself, and he lets out an embarrassed yip once he’s stabilized.
“You should have been paying closer attention, old friend,” Ushimaru says, earning himself a reproachful look from his longtime companion. “Plus, we’re nearly at our destination, so it was time for you to wake up anyway.”
Onimaru does a full body shake that makes his already fluffy coat stand up even more. Due to the time of year, his pelt has thickened out in anticipation of the worst of Ringo’s winter. Part of Zoro thinks they should have left the poor beast behind, as the weather is likely to make him miserable.
Nevertheless, that’s not his problem. He watches as Onimaru chitters at his uncle in annoyance for a moment, before leaning back up against the padded seat he’s been sharing with his grandmother.
Who turns and gives him a winsome smile. “At least we’ll be able to get out and stretch our legs soon, hmm?” She says, pulling one hand free from the depths of her robe to pat him on the knee. “And I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing Momonosuke and Hiyori as well. It’s been some time.”
“Only about a year,” Zoro replies. “Not that long.”
She pats him a second time and draws her hand back. “I’d say it’s long enough when it means you’ve mainly been stuck with a pair of old coots for company.”
“Excuse me?” Raising his head, Ushimaru glares at his sister in affront. “Who are you calling old?”
“You’re seventy, little brother,” Furiko reminds him. “I was very obviously talking about you.”
“Tch,” Ushimaru scowls. “I’m an extremely young seventy, thank you very much. And you’d try to remove my head from my shoulders if I called you old.”
“Well, of course,” his sister tells him, her voice dripping with faux innocence. “Only I’m allowed to comment on my age.”
“Double standards,” Ushimaru mutters. “That’s what’s wrong with the world.”
Used to the duo’s antics, Zoro does his best to tune them out. Truth be told, his grandmother does have a point. As much as he cares for her, and Ushimaru, the unusual circumstances of his birth mean there’s no one of similar age and station as him in Ringo. He’s enough of a natural born loner that it’s rarely a problem, but every now and again it’s nice to have different company. It’s just too bad about the circumstances that have led to it in this instance.
The carriage continues making its way along the road, and in doing so Zoro notices the crowd starting to thin out. Likewise the houses get larger and more ornate, until eventually they pass through a gate that’s manned by guards on each side. Recognizing that the men are sporting the Kozuki crest, Zoro sits up a little straighter. “I think we’re here.”
Their conversation having devolved into a full on bickering match, Furiko and Ushimaru pause mid-argument. Then Furiko grabs for the curtains, pulling them all the way open, as opposed to the mere sliver they had been.
“So we are,” she says, all traces of amusement having vanished from her voice. “I imagine we’ll be stopping any moment now, and then someone will be out to greet us.”
“I wonder if the rest of the daimyos have arrived yet,” Ushimaru muses, one of his hands stroking idly along Onimaru’s back. “We have the farthest to come, so it’s entirely plausible that we’d be the last to get here.”
“Personally, I’m more interested to see if Germa’s beaten us here,” Furiko replies. “I’d prefer to have a chance to settle in and get the lay of the land before dealing with whatever those interactions are going to entail.”
“Me too,” Ushimaru agrees. “Thankfully, if Lord Momonosuke’s estimations were correct, we should be at least a few days ahead of them.”
“That’s good,” Furiko says, but anything else she might add is lost in the carriage coming to a halt. “Ah. We appear to have made it.”
Outside Zoro can hear the sound of unfamiliar voices - most likely members of the Kozuki staff who’ve been alerted to their presence. A series of thumps signal that a set of stairs have been brought out, and it’s not long before the door to the carriage is drawn open.
His good eye watering thanks to the abrupt flood of sunlight, Zoro waits a beat before turning to his companions. He cocks his head to the side, figuring that his question is a plain one, and the siblings share a look.
“Ladies first,” Ushimaru says eventually, flashing his sister a smirk.
She in turn smiles sweetly back at him. “I think you mean elders and betters first,” she corrects. Nevertheless, she gathers up her skirts and moves to clamber out of the carriage. Outside, someone offers up a hand to help her on the stairs, to which she regally accepts.
Once she’s out, Ushimaru quirks an eyebrow at Zoro, and this time it’s the younger swordsman who grins. “Elders first, right?” He says, now earning himself a pointed eyeroll for his troubles.
Grunting, Ushimaru hauls himself out of his seat and shuffles over to the exit. Onimaru is likewise quick to follow him, meaning it’s not long before Zoro finds himself as the only person left in the carriage.
For a brief moment he’s tempted to refuse to get out, and to further tell the driver to head back to Ringo. He’d never get away with it, though, and, more importantly, he’d never hear the end of it. Taking a deep breath, he therefore does a quick check of the three swords on his hip and jumps down from the carriage.
*****
It turns out that the daimyos from the other regions have in fact beaten them here. More importantly, they’re all gathered in one of the palace’s smaller dining rooms for a relaxed lunch, to which the representatives from Ringo are quickly invited to join.
Ushimaru wastes no time in going to greet Lords Omusubi and Tempura. Likewise, Furiko immediately corners Yasuie and demands to hear all about how their distant cousin has been doing since he’d seen them last. Meanwhile, the Lords’ heirs mill about the room, but none of them make any attempt to approach Zoro, although little Toko does wave enthusiastically at him from behind her father’s back.
Frankly indifferent to the whole situation, Zoro goes to get himself something to eat. Inhaling the familiar scent of soba, he settles down on a mat near the back with a bowl in hand, pleased to have a properly cooked meal after so long on the road.
A bell signals the arrival of the Kozuki siblings, but Zoro makes no move to stand. Thankfully, Momonosuke waves off any other attempts at formalities as he begins to greet his guests. It’s also not long before he’s drawn into a conversation with most of the daimyos about who knows what.
Having shaken off whatever guards had come in with her, Hiyori ignores her brother in favor of making her way over to Zoro. The ornaments twisted into her curls chime as she flops onto the cushion next to him in a decidedly unladylike manner, and he narrowly avoids getting speared by one of her hair clips when she hugs him.
“If you make me spill my lunch I’m going to be pissed,” he growls, doing his best to wriggle away from her. “Get off, would you? I’m hungry, and you’re making things difficult.”
Hiyori gives him a playful swat in the shoulder as she pulls back. “Is that any way to greet an old friend who you haven’t seen in months?” She asks, her eyes sparkling. “All things considered, I’d have thought you’d be glad to see someone your own age.”
Zoro huffs around a mouthful of noodles. “We’re not the same age,” he reminds her. “You’re five years older than me. That’s practically decrepit.”
Her second swat is considerably less playful, but still has next to no impact on him. “I’m the closest thing there is,” she says, her nose wrinkling. “At least until the Vinsmoke get here, that is.”
Not missing the edge in her voice, Zoro momentarily pauses in his eating. “Am I safe in assuming that you’re just as annoyed about this foolishness as I am?” He asks, earning himself a laugh for his troubles.
“I doubt anyone is as annoyed about it as you are,” Hiyori clarifies once her snickers have faded. “Your hatred for politics and formal events is … well documented. Is Ushimaru going to have to physically drag you to anything this time around?”
Refusing to be embarrassed by the antics of his younger self, Zoro shrugs. “It’s been stressed to me that I should be on my best behaviour,” he sighs. “Even if I do think the whole thing is dumb as hell.”
“But what about you?” He asks then. “You usually like this kind of thing, but you don’t sound overly excited to meet these northerners.”
“Because I’m not,” Hiyori replies, folding her legs underneath her and stuffing her hands into the sleeves of her robe. “The dispatch from King Judge didn’t explicitly say so, but my brother and I are almost certain he’s on a mission to try and secure a royal marriage. With me, specifically.”
Zoro blinks at this. “The Germa king wants to marry you?” He says, mildly alarmed. “I thought it was his sons he was trying to pawn off?”
Hiyori stares at him in shock for several seconds before bursting out laughing. The noise draws the attention of everyone else in the room, but she’s quick to wave them off with a hand, while at the same time struggling to get herself under control.
“Oh goodness, you are a dunce sometimes, Roronoa,” she says, swiping at her eyes with a perfectly manicured finger. “Of course Judge doesn’t want to marry me. He’s more than twice my age and already has five heirs. He doesn’t need a new wife, he needs a daughter-in-law. Preferably one of high ranking, noble birth.”
“Right, that’s what I thought,” Zoro says, refusing to feel embarrassed by his mistake. “And I’m guessing you’re not interested.”
“Mhm hm.” Having regained her composure, Hiyori shakes her head. “I mean, it’s possible they won’t be so bad, but Germa doesn’t have a very nice reputation, and that starts with the royal family. I don’t expect the princes to be overly pleasant.”
“That sucks,” Zoro says around a bite of soba. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
Unexpectedly, Hiyori beams at him. It’s a look he easily recognizes after years of being bullied into her schemes, and it therefore makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I’m so glad you asked,” she trills. “Because I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do about it. I’m not going to let myself get stuck alone with any of them if I can avoid it.”
“By which you mean you’re going to keep your retainers on hand the whole time Germa’s here?” Zoro suggests. Kawamatsu and Denjiro had faded from the room once Hiyori had gotten settled, but no doubt the pair would be happy to stick close if she asked them to. Even if she should have nothing to fear beyond annoyance from visiting royals.
“I could do that,” Hiyori muses aloud, “but I’ve been envisioning something a little more subtle. After all, it might be considered somewhat rude to have heavily armed samurai hovering around at all times. However, a friend and fellow heir to one of Wano’s great houses, who just happens to likewise be a heavily armed swordsman, well. That’s a different story, don’t you think?”
Groaning, Zoro briefly considers trying to choke himself with the dregs of his soba. “You want me to stick with you the whole time they’re here?” He whines. “But that would mean going to every stupid, boring event that’s been planned for their visit.”
Hiyori stares down her nose at him. “You mean every stupid, boring event that your uncle and grandmother are already going to be expecting you to attend?” She asks sweetly.
“Uh, obviously!” Scowling when she laughs at him, Zoro sets his bowl aside and crosses his arms over his chest. “The difference is, I can’t hide in the back and nap if I’m stuck in the middle of things with you. I’ll have to actually talk to people. Or worse, pretend to listen when they talk at me.”
“Oh no,” Hiyori says, her voice desert dry. “How ever will you survive?”
“I might not,” Zoro mutters petulantly. “This literally might kill me.”
“And you say my brother’s overdramatic,” Hiyori says, rolling her eyes.
“I say that because it’s true,” Zoro retorts, refusing to back down. “Whereas I am just stating a fact.”
“Yes, well, I am a princess and technically your superior,” Hiyori declares with a smirk. “I could make it an order, and then you’d be committing treason if you said no.”
Zoro gives her a flat look. “Do you really think I’d care about something like that?”
A bit of the wind seems to go out of Hiyori’s sails. “Well. No,” she admits, a faint blush staining her cheeks even with all her makeup. “And we both know I wouldn’t actually give that kind of order. I’m just hoping you’ll be willing to do it anyway. As my friend.”
It’s a low blow, and she knows it. For all they might bicker, and for all that he despises the pomp and circumstance of the nobility, Zoro’s loyal to a fault when it comes to people he considers his own. He can’t in good conscience make her go through this alone, even if he’s going to hate every moment of it.
“You owe me,” he grumbles, jabbing his chopsticks in her direction. “You owe me big. I might demand my own castle.”
“You have your own castle,” Hiyori replies blandly, although there’s no mistaking the relief in her eyes. “The fact that your uncle and grandmother also live in it, doesn’t change the fact that it’ll be solely yours someday.”
Since he has nothing to say to that, Zoro grunts and goes back to his food.
*****
Despite his concerns surrounding how poorly his family is about to come across, Sanji has to admit that the country of Wano is stunningly beautiful. He gets to see a fair bit of it thanks to how far inland the Flower Capital is located, and he marvels at the lush forests, flowing rivers, and stately mountains as they make their way through the countryside.
Sadly, the wonders of the picturesque landscape are lost on his siblings, most of whom take to complaining about how long the trip over land is taking by the second day. The fact that they’re traveling with all the comforts Wano has to offer is lost on them, and Sanji imagines that the whole of Germa has left a bad taste in the mouths of several inn proprietors along the way.
By the time the silhouette of the Shogun’s palace finally becomes visible, Sanji’s had about all he can stand of being crammed into the royal carriage with his relatives for days on end. At least on the ship he’d had a private room to tuck himself away in. Out here, he has no such recourse.
Still, the sight of the palace seems to create a sense of relief among all of them. Even Niji - always the first and most vocal when it comes to things he dislikes - shuts up for the time being, and the carriage is quiet when they eventually draw up to the gates.
The guards are dressed in polished armour that’s adorned with the Kozuki family crest. They all hold ceremonial spears at attention, but Sanji likewise notices that most of them carry other weapons on their person, mainly swords and daggers, although he spots a few other options as well.
Surprised by the fact that these men don’t appear to have standardized military regalia, he wonders why this is, and can only conclude that all of the soldiers must be armed with the weapons they feel personally the most comfortable. This in turn suggests that they’ll know full well how to use them.
It’s possible this stems from the fact that Wano’s barely two decades removed from an attempted coup that had seen the last Shogun dead, along with his wife, and his eight year old son stuck ruling in his stead. That’s not an arrangement Sanji would wish on anyone, and he supposes he too would do whatever was necessary to keep that from happening again if their positions were reversed.
A guard wearing slightly more elaborate armor than the rest steps forward and has a brief conversation with Germa’s own captain. The royal carriage is too far back in the caravan for Sanji to make out what’s being said, but he’s able to see when the guard from Wano steps back and raises a hand.
Behind him, the gates to the Shogun’s palace slowly start to creak open. The guard keeps his hand raised until the gap is wide enough to begin admitting people, and then he twists it in a gesture to move them forward.
Sanji feels the carriage lurch beneath him as it springs into motion again, and he leans a little more heavily against the window as he gets his first, unobstructed view of the palace. He barely contains himself from letting out an appreciative whistle, he’s impressed enough by what he sees, but his eyes are soon drawn to the people waiting on the front steps.
They’re samurai, he realizes. Eight of them. All of them are sporting different outfits, styles, and weapons, minus one item that they all have in common. Each of them has a dark kimono thrown over his - or her, he mentally reverses when he notices an extremely tall woman who looks to be missing the lower half of her left arm - shoulders. The kimonos are black with patterns of silver stars and moons sewn on them, an indication of who these people must be.
“The Akazaya,” he hears himself murmur. “The Red Scabbards.”
His comment earns him an unimpressed look from Ichiji, but none of the rest of his relatives even bother to glance at him. Instead, they’re too busy waiting impatiently for the carriage to stop and the door to open.
And yet Sanji keeps his attention focused on the waiting samurai. He’d read the dossiers that Germa’s intelligence officers had prepared over the course of the voyage here. Therefore he knows that the Akazaya had been the retainers of the late Lord Oden, and they’d sworn the same loyalty to Lord Momonosuke when his father had perished in battle but they’d survived.
In many ways he suspects the samurai could be credited with keeping Wano from falling apart at the seams during that difficult time. Not only had they fiercely protected their young lord, but they’d rallied the rest of the people to him, allowing for a kind of unity and stability that’s rarely found in war torn countries. Even now, twenty years later, they remained incredibly dangerous, and had the ear of the Shogun - meaning it wouldn’t do to get on any of their bad sides.
Which - Sanji takes a moment to ponder the likelihood of that happening, and has to fight back a grimace. His family isn’t known for putting their best foot forward in situations like this, even with Judge’s directive that everyone be on their best behavior.
He’s the last to exit the carriage, and takes his expected place between Niji and Yonji while Judge steps forward in the lead. The samurai in the front mirrors his position, and bows his head in greeting.
“Your Majesty,” he rumbles as he straightens. “My name is Foxfire Kin’emon. Please allow me to welcome you to the land of Wano. I trust your journey here was as comfortable as possible.”
Judge ducks his head as well, but with notably less deference than the samurai. “Master Kin’emon,” he nevertheless says, “I thank you for your welcome, and yes. The journey was pleasant enough, all things considered.”
“Still, you must be tired,” Kin’emon remarks. “If you’d prefer to freshen up first, Lord Momonosuke has offered to have you shown to your rooms before you’re escorted to the audience chambers.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Judge is quick to insist. “I’d hate to leave the Shogun waiting when his time is valuable.”
“Indeed.” Kin’emon’s expression doesn’t change, and the rest of the retainers remain equally impassive. Then their leader nods, and turns on his heel. “If you’ll follow me then. I’ll personally escort you to the young Lord.”
*****
Given how short a trip it is, Sanji imagines that Kin’emon takes them on the most direct path through the palace. Nevertheless, this still allows them ample opportunity to see the evident wealth and prosperity of Wano, with the halls being a far cry from the much more somber ones in Germa.
Sanji admires what works of art he can as they sweep by, hoping that he might have a chance to take everything in more closely at a later date. With luck not all their trip here will be taken up with formal events, and he’ll be able to have some time to himself.
It’s readily apparent when they reach the audience chamber because the number of guards in the hallway nearly triples. Likewise, these guards are eyeing them much more cautiously than those on the front gate had, and each one has a glint in his or her eye that suggests they mean business. Not relishing the idea of tangling with them, Sanji’s happy that his family is on a - for them anyway - peaceful mission this time around.
Unlike the front gates, the doors to the audience chamber slide to the side as opposed to opening inwards. Sanji can’t see any mechanism that makes this work, and he has no opportunity to try and suss out where it must be because they’re already being ushered forward.
Two of the Akazaya peel off right away and drop back to stand on either side of the doorway, while another set take up residence on opposite sides of the room. Meanwhile, the one armed woman moves to stand behind a towering young man with a mane of wild black hair - the same man who Kin’emon is now kneeling in front of.
“My Lord,” the samurai says from where he has one knee on the floor and the other propped under his forearm. “May I present, His Majesty, King Vinsmoke Judge of Germa, and his children.”
“Thank you, Kin’emon,” Momonosuke says regally. “I appreciate you bringing our guests here so quickly.”
“My Lord,” Kin’emon says again. Only this time he must hear something Sanji doesn’t because he stands abruptly and moves to take the spot behind the Shogun’s other shoulder.
Belatedly realizing that he’s lost track of the two remaining Akazaya, Sanji lets his eyes flick around the room as Judge steps forward to engage in the typical pleasantries of one royal greeting another.
He finds them standing behind a gorgeous young woman who’s seated on a cushion very similar to Momonosuke’s. She’s hardly the only other noble in the room - indeed, Sanji’s willing to bet that the dozen or so people seated about the space are some of the highest ranking members of Wano society - but the fact that she’s worthy of two samurai as personal bodyguards means there can be no question as to her identity.
“Ah,” the pointed cough jerks Sanji out of his reverie, and he feels his face heat when he turns and finds that Lord Momonosuke has locked eyes with him directly. “I see one of you has already spotted my sister, Lady Kozuki Hiyori.”
“My Lord,” Sanji murmurs, already bowing deeply without needing Judge’s furious stare to tell him to. “My apologies if I seemed distracted, I’m afraid I was caught off guard by Her Ladyship’s beauty. The portraits we’ve seen simply don’t do her justice.”
“ … no doubt,” Momonosuke says, and Sanji barely manages not to wince at his tone. There’s an unmistakable hint of ice in it, such that he’s sure he’s going to be in for an earful, or worse, when Judge gets him alone later.
“Well, in any event,” Momonosuke continues on after a pause that’s just too long for comfort, “welcome to Wano, my lords and lady. I’ve directed that all the amenities we have are to be made available to you, and I do hope you enjoy your stay.”
“We thank you for your hospitality, Shogun,” Judge says, inclining his head. “I’m sure we will be most comfortable here, and with luck this visit will result in an increased friendship between our two great houses.”
“Indeed,” Momonosuke replies with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Such a result would certainly be fortuitous for both of us. But, now, come. You must be tired from your trip, and hungry too. I’ll have some refreshments brought in, and we can talk more later.”
And with that he claps his hands, effectively cutting off any response Judge might make as a number of servants swarm into the room.
*****
“You’re right, I don’t like them.”
Hiyori doesn’t pause as they continue making their way along one of the palace garden paths. Denjiro and Kawamatsu have fallen back to give them a semblance of privacy now that they’re no longer in the same room as the Vinsmokes, but Zoro imagines they won’t have gone far under the circumstances.
“There’s something off about them,” he adds as they keep walking. “Something that has my teeth on edge.”
“If your teeth are bothering you, that could just as easily be due to your horrible habit of using them to hold a sword,” Hiyori says with a sniff. “I will never understand why you developed such a technique.”
“I developed it because it’s effective and makes me an even better fighter,” Zoro says, refusing to be deterred from his train of thought. “But that’s got nothing to do with what I’m feeling now. Those people aren’t normal.”
Hiyori sighs, but doesn’t disagree with him. “I felt it too,” she admits, bringing her arms up to wrap them around herself. “I felt like a bug stuck on a pin with the way most of them looked at me. Except the blond prince, surprisingly. He seemed nice enough.”
Zoro rolls his good eye. “Of course you liked him,” he says snidely. “He told you you were pretty.”
Hiyori sniffs. “If you’ll recall correctly, he actually called me beautiful. The man clearly has excellent taste.”
“Or he’s quicker on the ball than the rest of his brothers and is already trying to butter you up,” Zoro counters. “If we’re right about why they’re here, you’ve probably got a lot more of that crap coming your way, and there’s no guarantee any of them will mean any of it.”
“I know,” Hiyori says, wrinkling her nose and stepping a little closer to him. “Thank you again for basically agreeing to be my third bodyguard while they’re around. I don’t think I’m going to enjoy being the centre of their attention.”
“Probably not,” Zoro agrees. “I’m glad the sister isn’t a likely candidate for their father to be trying to marry off. Otherwise, I might be stuck in the same boat as you.”
Hiyori laughs, clearly caught off guard by his words. “Part of me would almost like to see that,” she giggles. “I can just imagine how you’d react to the awkward flirting of some woman you don’t know.”
“I’d react as well as I ever do,” Zoro replies. “Because she wouldn’t be the first. More than one high ranking house in Wano has tried throwing their daughters at me in the hopes of getting into Ringo’s line of succession.”
Hiyori gives him a knowing look. “Have any of them tried throwing their sons at you?” She asks slyly.
“One or two,” Zoro says, causing her to blink. “Every once in a while the odd desperate father will have more than a handful of brain cells to rub together and realize there’s a better way of catching my attention. The prospects are always bleak though.”
“Aw well,” Hiyori pats him on the shoulder in a way that’s probably meant to be sympathetic, but mainly just feels condescending. “I’m sure the right boy for you is out there somewhere. You just have to keep looking.”
“In the meantime,” she adds, speaking over him as he grumbles about how he has no interest in looking, “you could always take a closer look at the Vinsmokes. I think they might be desperate enough to take a future daimyo in lieu of the Shogun’s sister, and there’s plenty of them to choose from.”
“You’re not funny,” Zoro growls, one hand fisting around Wado’s hilt in the face of her tittering laughter. “As if I’d ever go for one of those pompous freaks.”
“Oh come on,” she says in between snickers. “They’re not unattractive at least?”
Now Zoro snorts. “If that’s all they’ve got going for them, then the less said about them the better,” he declares. “Decent looks aren’t the kind of thing to catch my attention and keep it.”
“Well, no,” Hiyori allows, “but you have to admit they don’t hurt.”
Since he doesn’t have to admit anything of the sort, Zoro stays resolutely silent. His doing so causes Hiyori to sigh, and he’s not surprised when she starts heading for one of the garden exits.
“The Vinsmokes are going to be here for weeks,” she says, her tone more serious now. “Possibly even months. I’m not much looking forward to having to dodge them around every corner of the palace for the foreseeable future.”
Zoro grimaces. “If it helps, I’m not much looking forward to being in the palace for that long period. You know how the Flower Capital gets on my nerves.”
“Yes, the frigid solitude of Ringo is much better suited to your brooding loner personality,” Hiyori drawls. “The Capital just doesn’t set the scene properly.”
“If you keep making fun of me, I might make you find somebody else to play bodyguard for the next month,” Zoro mutters. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Hiyori waves a hand to show how little concern she has for his admittedly empty threat. “You’re a man of your word,” she says. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Why not, I’d win,” Hiyori replies. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve never enjoyed your time in the Capital. You always have fun whenever Luffy’s around.”
“That’s different,” Zoro stresses, his mind drifting to the happy-go-lucky adventurer who’s visited Wano with his older brothers on a few occasions. “That’s Luffy.”
“Yes, there is something about him that you’re enamoured by, isn’t there?” Hiyori muses. “I suspect that’s why your uncle doesn’t like him. He’s afraid Luffy will coerce you into leaving Wano someday, taking his only heir with him in the process.”
Zoro doesn’t say anything to this, mainly because he doesn’t want to accidentally confirm how right she is. Luffy has asked him to travel with him in the past, more than once as it happens. He’s just always said no because he figured Ace and Sabo wouldn’t okay it, and his own family definitely wouldn’t.
“Regardless,” he tries instead, “Luffy isn’t here. The Vinsmokes are, and I figure they’re going to be way worse company than he is.”
Hiyori makes a face. “On that point,” she says tiredly, “I suspect you’re right.”