I turned my attention to Chino and Fūshin for a moment, the two of them standing next to the man I was meeting, En Oyashiro. Chino's father, though she didn't know that. I wasn't sure what to make of the man; he seemed utterly foolish, and yet, such a foolish person could make as much money as he had in so little time.
From a complete unknown to someone even nobles respect, that wasn't simple at all.
Despite his clear skill when it came to business and his talent as a shinobi, his ability as a father? That seemed completely lacking.
Sure, he got angry and killed his entire clan over the murder of his wife… for all I know, they deserved it; they seemed crazy enough the last time I saw them.
That wasn't the crazy part, no, that was how he treated their daughter after that.
Taking advantage of her young age to conceal his identity from her, and turning her into a gladiator. I just couldn't see the point at all.
Why make her hate him? Why make her hate the Uchiha clan? What was the point? Why not just take her away and raise her in a loving environment?
And even now, despite making her hate him, he still had her stand behind him as a guard. I knew he was strong, or well, relatively strong. More than enough to defend himself, but it still felt foolish.
"Kaguya-hime," he greeted me with a bright smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you." I simply nodded in response.
"I must say, I was impressed by your little demonstration a few weeks ago," he said, leaning back in his chair, a casual, almost lazy grace to his movements. "It's not often you see a noble with... such a firm hand." The way he said "firm hand" was laced with a veiled respect, a professional acknowledging a peer's technique.
"A necessary lesson," I replied, my tone neutral. "The rules of your establishment are... flexible. I simply ensured they bent in my favor." I didn't offer any more explanation. There was no need. He understood the language of power better than anyone.
He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Indeed. A very... expensive lesson for Lord Masaru. But a valuable one for the rest of us. It clarified the pecking order quite nicely." His eyes twinkled with avarice, the look of a man constantly calculating value and risk.
"Which begs the question, Kaguya-hime," he continued, leaning forward slightly, the atmosphere in the room growing taut. "You went to all that trouble to secure the Uzumaki girl's freedom, to make her exempt from the... transactional nature of our sport. So why put her back in the arena? Why risk her? What is the value you see in her... continued participation?"
I turned my face just slightly, a subtle move, something to show him that I was looking toward Chino, despite wearing my blindfold. "I think it would be best if we had your guards step outside for this discussion," I said, looking at Chino.
En Oyashiro paused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He hadn't expected me to ask him something like that, because his guards were clearly out in the open. It was considered rude to want them gone.
Not to mention, I had a rather dangerous reputation, which only made it more understandable for others to want guards near them with me around. He clearly hadn't expected me to ask to speak without them.
He looked at me for a long moment, trying to gauge my intentions. I could feel the faint, almost imperceptible flow of chakra as he subtly activated a sensory technique, a rather subtle one, checking for any immediate threats. Finding none, he gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
To Chino, he said, "You heard the lady, Chino. Wait outside. And Fūshin, you too. No one is to disturb us."
Chino gave a brief, deferential bow, her face a mask of indifference, though I could sense the underlying curiosity. Fūshin looked less pleased, but a sharp glance from Oyashiro silenced any protest. They both exited the opulent office, the heavy door clicking shut behind them, leaving us in a silence that felt heavier than before.
"Now," Oyashiro said, his posture unchanged but his eyes sharper, more focused. "We can speak freely. What is this about, Kaguya-hime? What is it you seek that my guards can't hear about?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
I was silent for a moment, letting the question hang in the air between us. The scent of the expensive tea drifted on the air between us. "What I seek is the same as you," I said without saying much, purely meant to increase his curiosity. Sometimes, it was better if he was the one who said them, some questions he needed to ask before I could answer them.
He smiled, a thin, calculating expression. "And what is it you think I seek?" he countered, leaning back in his chair, feigning relaxation. "I am a simple collector, Kaguya-hime. I have a love for beautiful things. I have been called a gourmand of Kekkei Genkai." He took a sip of the tea, setting it down with a deliberate clink. "I find unique shinobi, with unique abilities, and I give them a home, a purpose. It is a philanthropic venture, in its own way."
I almost laughed at the sheer audacity of his lie. Philanthropy. As if he were running an orphanage and not a gilded cage for human weapons. "You call this philanthropy? Forcing a child to fight for your amusement?" I asked, my voice laced with a faint, mocking tone. "Let's not pretend to be something we are not, En Oyashiro. It's beneath you, and it's a waste of my time."
His smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He had expected me to play along, to engage in the dance of pleasantries. He was testing me, and I had refused to step onto the floor.
"Very well," he said, his tone shifting, all pretense dropping away. "What then, is it you think I am really here for?" He leaned forward slightly. "What is it you seek?" he asked again, but this time, it was a genuine question.
I finally answered him. "A place to train, not myself, but those I care about. I wish to use this place to train Karin, just as you wish to train your daughter." I revealed I knew the truth, the hidden secret he thought safe with him alone. He flinched, not obviously, but his entire body tensed for a moment.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but the denial was weak, unconvincing.
"It is almost amusing, I wear a blindfold... and people think me blind... but in truth, I see so very much, I know all manners of little secrets, including the fact that your daughter Chino possesses the same Kekkei Genkai as you, the same dōjutsu, the Ketsuryūgan," I said, and this time, he did not even try to deny it. He simply looked at me.
"How?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. His entire facade of the flamboyant merchant had vanished, replaced by something harder, more dangerous. The shinobi was now in the room, not the collector.
"I have my methods," I said, not giving him a direct answer. But also ignoring the bloodlust he gave off; he was a jōnin, maybe even an elite one, but next to me? He was nothing. "But do not mistake me for an enemy, I did ask for Chino to be sent outside before I spoke, didn't I? Isn't that a sign of good faith?" I asked him.
"A sign of something, yes," he conceded, his gaze unwavering. "A sign that you know things you shouldn't. A sign that you are far more dangerous than your reputation suggests."
"Perhaps," I said, taking a slow sip of my tea. "Or perhaps I am simply a pragmatist. We both have children with unique and powerful bloodlines. We both want to see them grow strong. This... coliseum, with its rules and its spectacle, is a crucible. It forges strength through conflict. But it's a crude tool. We can refine it."
He was silent for a long moment, the silence stretching, filled with unspoken questions and calculations. He was no doubt very shocked about me knowing so much, and scared that I did, because to a shinobi, information is power.
And since I knew his secrets, I held power over him.
No one would be happy about something like that, more so someone who now lived free of worries thanks to his money and prestige. He likely feared I would expose him and ruin everything.
"Refine it how?" he finally asked, his voice cautious.
"We want the same thing for them. Strength. Experience. And this is the best place for them to get it," I answered. "I propose an alliance between the two of us. I am sure you have thought of pitting Chino against Karin, have you not?" I asked him, and he admitted he had by nodding. "I want that as well. But not for your enjoyment or mine... but for them, so they can learn from each other."
He was considering my words. "An alliance," he repeated, testing the word. "And what would this 'alliance' entail? What do you get out of it? Besides the obvious, which is a training partner for your little Uzumaki."
"Do I need to get anything more? What could you even offer me? Except money, what do you have?" I asked him, not hiding my dismissive tone. "I care only for training Karin, and the best way to do that is by having a rival. That is something I learned from training my two sons."
"You have children? Lady Kaguya-hime?" he couldn't help but ask, genuine shock in his voice.
"I might look young, but looks can be deceiving." I flashed him a sharp smile. "My sons were of similar age when I began their training, and the rivalry between them pushed them to heights they could never have reached alone. They fought, they bled, and in the end, they became stronger for it. That is what I want for Karin and Chino. A true rivalry."
I leaned forward, my hands clasped on the table. "This is not a request, Oyashiro. It is an observation. A declaration of intent. My ward and your daughter will fight. They will push each other. They will become legends in this arena, or they will break trying. The outcome is in their hands, but the opportunity is one we will provide."
I paused, letting the weight of my words settle in the room. "I could have simply arranged the match through the proper channels, but I chose to speak with you directly, because together we can maximize the outcome. I know not why you wish to train Chino as you do, but surely more effective training would be welcome, wouldn't it?" I asked him, trying to figure out just what he wanted.
He was silent for a long while, the silence stretching, filled with the soft clinking of ice in a nearby glass and the distant muffled roar of the crowd. He was no longer the flamboyant collector. He was a father, a shinobi, a man weighing a future he couldn't fully see.
"A rival..." he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "A worthy rival... that is something no amount of money can buy." He looked up, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something genuine in his eyes, something that went beyond greed or pride. It was hope, a dangerous, desperate hope.
"My daughter... she is strong. Her blood is powerful. But she is alone. She thinks she is alone. A rival... someone who could stand against her, who could push her to her limits... someone she could one day call an equal... that is something I cannot give her." He confessed, his voice filled with a deep, aching sadness.
"Why do you hide it from her? That you are her father," I asked, not to mock him, but to understand. It seemed such a self-defeating act, to be so close, and yet so far. It was a wound he had inflicted upon himself, and upon her.
"That isn't for you to know!" he snapped angrily, before finding his composure. "My apologies, but let us not speak of such things. The past is the past, and my reasons are my own," he said firmly, and I let it be. I had pushed far enough, to push more might just lead him to reject my offer out of spite.
"Then we are agreed?" I asked, my tone returning to the calm, neutral ground of negotiation. "We will foster this rivalry. We will ensure they get the best opponents, the most challenging matches, and when the time is right, they will face each other. Not as a spectacle for the masses, but as a crucible to forge their true strength."
He nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Agreed," he said.