[RLOP] Chapter : 22 - Yamato's depression

"Hey, Bruce, what are you doing?"

The bandit camp lay eerily silent.

Jerry, the mouse-man, eyed Bruce—who was crouched with his back turned—wearing a look of confusion.

"Cleaning up after Big Brother," Bruce replied flatly, shooting him a glance. "Jerry, if you’ve got time to laze around, you’ve got time to help me burn this place."

"Huh? You’re setting fire to it? Trying to erase the evidence?"

Jerry froze, his whiskers twitching in thought.

"But… Big Brother wouldn’t leave those bandits alive anyway, right?"

Bruce scoffed. "Who cares? If they so much as touched Big Brother, even if he didn’t lift a finger, the rest of us would’ve torn them apart."

"Then why bother?" Jerry pressed, more puzzled than ever.

"Idiot," Bruce snapped, hefting two bulging burlap sacks into view. "Big Brother promised them a hundred gold each. Since they’re not coming back, I’ll have to burn the money for them."

The sacks jingled with the weight of Wano’s thick, locally printed gold notes. In this closed-off country, citizens had no choice but to use state-issued currency—or resort to crude bartering.

Jerry’s jaw dropped. "Wait, what? You’re serious?"

But then his sharp little eyes darted, and he suddenly nodded with conviction. "No, you’re right! If it were just us, we could ignore it. But this was Big Brother’s word. We can’t go back on that. Even if they’re dead, the money has to reach them!"

Bruce smirked, tossing one sack into Jerry’s arms. "Exactly. Now hurry up and burn it. Who knows how long it’ll take to ‘deliver.’ When Big Brother takes control of Wano, this currency’ll probably tank in value. Better not have the numbers not match up later."

Jerry chuckled nervously. "You’re always thinking ahead, Bruce."

The flames crackled and spat, painting the night with orange glow. Warmth brushed against their skin, but it couldn’t chase away the heaviness in the two girls’ hearts.

"Hiyori, I’ll find a village under the Beast Pirates’ protection and leave you there."

Yamato forced herself to sound steady, looking at the fragile, emerald-haired girl curled in front of her. But no matter how much she tried, a melancholy note laced her words.

"No! I… I want to find the samurai…" Hiyori’s small body trembled as she spoke. The words came out instinctively, but as recent memories flooded back, her voice weakened into a whisper.

"Samurai…" Yamato’s breath caught. Once, that word had set her heart alight. Now, it only rang hollow.

The more she saw, the more disillusioned she became.

Shaking her head, Yamato’s voice hardened. "That’s impossible. Wano is crawling with rogue samurai. The only safe villages are the ones the Beast Pirates guard."

Her mind flashed back to that parting moment with Lucci.

Her bold declaration. Her promise.

I will prove the samurai are worthy of admiration.

Now her face twisted, shame and regret tangling with anger.

And how could Hiyori be any different?

Since the fall of her father and her mother’s desperate gamble to send her brother to the future, she had lived hidden away, clinging to a prophecy she barely understood. At first, the villagers had been kind, and Kawamatsu’s hunts filled their bellies. But when Kozuki retainers came—first begging food, then demanding it—everything broke.

What began as loyalty to a cause rotted into theft, then tyranny. Hunger hollowed out the village. Children starved. The old died quietly. Resistance bloomed in the young.

And through it all, Hiyori’s faith crumbled.

Kozuki samurai, her father’s men, taking food from starving hands… dismissing lives as pawns for a prophecy twenty years away.

How could such a clan deserve to rule Wano again?

The name Kozuki, once her pride, became her shame. And so she left, wandering for years, discarding her clan name like a snake shedding its skin. Amatsuki Hiyori, she began to call herself, clinging to anything but the legacy she had inherited.

Now, separated from Kawamatsu, she huddled beside Yamato, fragile as a doll.

"Where are you going, Big Sister Yamato?" she murmured, burying her face in her knees.

Yamato’s eyes hardened. "To the Flower Capital. My friend is imprisoned there. I’m going to save him."

"Impossible… Denjiro is strong. You can’t win." Hiyori’s voice was faint, resigned.

She had seen Yamato fight, fierce enough to scatter samurai. But Denjiro… Denjiro was different. A Red Scabbard, second only to Ashura Doji.

"So what?!" Yamato’s words cracked like a whip, but her strength faltered. "I have to go. Even if…" her voice dipped to a whisper, "...even if it kills me."

Her mind drifted to the young man who had once shared meals with her, who urged her to see the world for herself.

And, for just a moment, her thoughts betrayed her—toward Kaido.

Her father’s strength could crush Denjiro with ease. But the thought soured instantly, tangled with memories of defiance and bitter quarrels.

She clenched her fists, shame burning hotter than the firelight.

Her dream of becoming Oden… of being a samurai worthy of admiration… felt like a farce.

And now, stripped of that dream, she stood on the edge of a void, wondering where to go next.

The fire popped and hissed. Silence pressed in, broken only by the crackle of wood devoured by flames.

After a long silence, Yamato looked at the small, trembling figure beside her.
"Hiyori… you grew up in Wano. Tell me, in the eyes of the people, what kind of man was Kozuki Oden?"

"Huh?"

Hiyori blinked, stunned. She hadn’t expected that question.

Her mind fumbled through fragments of Kawamatsu’s stories about her father’s “achievements.”

A hero? A scoundrel? Even now, the answer wasn’t clear.

In the end, her voice came out faint.
"He… he should’ve been a good man."

"Is that so?" Yamato frowned. The answer felt hollow, but seeing Hiyori’s young face, she held back the urge to press further.

She let it go.

But fate didn’t.

"What kind of man was Kozuki Oden? That, little girl, is a question I can answer with authority!"

The sudden voice sent a chill down Yamato’s spine. She grabbed her spiked club, eyes scanning the shadows.

The forest rustled. Leaves shook. One by one, armored figures emerged, swords glinting in the moonlight. Dozens of them.

Samurai.

Nearly fifty.

They closed in, surrounding the two girls.

Yamato’s heart sank. Careless. Too tired to stay sharp.

Shielding Hiyori behind her, she snarled, "Who the hell are you!?"

The leader stepped forward with a smirk. "Who am I? Isn’t it obvious? A samurai."

Yamato’s jaw clenched. "Kozuki remnants again?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I’m not yet worthy of calling myself one of Oden’s men."

At that, Hiyori’s head lifted slightly, hope flickering in her eyes.

But the next words crushed it.

"Still, every samurai in Wano reveres the Kozuki Clan. Call me a remnant if you like—I won’t deny it." His lips curled into a lewd smile. "After all, we’re just waiting. Waiting for the day the Kozuki Clan rises again… so we can claw our way back to the top of Wano’s society."

Hiyori’s faint spark of hope died at once.

Yamato’s grip tightened on her club, anger blazing in her young face. "Don’t you have any pride!? Look at yourselves! If Kozuki Oden saw this, he’d be ashamed of you!"

"Samurai pride?" the leader echoed. His grin widened. Then he burst into wild laughter.

"Hahahahaha!"

The men around him joined in, their laughter echoing through the forest like hyenas circling prey.

Yamato’s teeth ground together. "What’s so funny!?"

"My apologies, truly," the leader said mockingly, wiping fake tears from his eyes. "As a samurai, I shouldn’t laugh. But since you’ll be dead soon, I’ll enlighten you before you go."

His voice dropped, carrying a twisted reverence.
"Kozuki Oden was the worst samurai in Wano!"

Yamato froze. Hiyori trembled.

"Every one of us samurai strives to inherit Oden’s ‘evil.’"

The words fell like hammers.

"He cast out his wet nurse the moment he was born—unfilial!"
"He abandoned his people to chase dreams overseas—disloyal!"
"He coveted another man’s wife—inhumane!"
"He joined Whitebeard, then betrayed him for Roger’s treasure—unjust!"

Each accusation struck like a blade. Yamato’s grip slackened. Her club slipped from her fingers, hitting the earth with a dull thud.

Hiyori collapsed to her knees, tears spilling as she covered her face.

Because every word… was true.

The same truths Kawamatsu had told her, though softened, polished. Here, they were stripped bare, cruel and raw.

"So tell me," the leader sneered, looming closer, "would such a disloyal, unfilial, unjust, inhumane man feel ashamed of me?"

The world seemed to mock them.

Perhaps all fathers in this era were cursed. Roger abandoning his wife and child for the dawn of piracy. Yasopp leaving Usopp and his mother behind for dreams. And Oden—Oden, who knew Orochi’s betrayal was coming, and still sailed away. Who returned and thought he could save Wano without sacrifice. Who chose to die rather than fight.

Lucci’s words echoed, though he wasn’t there.
Disloyal to his country.
Unjust to his comrades.
Unfilial as a son.
Unkind as a father.

Only his death—boiled alive, smiling to the end—redeemed him as a hero.

But why he was boiled alive… best not to ask.

The leader lunged. Yamato’s arms were seized, pinned before she could react.

"Enough talk," he hissed. "Now let me show you the true evil of a samurai!"

Yamato struggled wildly, feet leaving the ground. "Damn it! Let go of me! Hiyori, get up! Fight back!"

But Hiyori only knelt, broken, her eyes empty.

"Am I… really at my limit?" Yamato thought bitterly, despair gnawing at her.

The leader’s foul breath drew closer. Darkness swallowed her heart. She shut her eyes.

Until—

Warmth splattered across her cheek.

Blood.

Her feet hit the ground again.

When she opened her eyes, the leader’s body had already been split clean in two.

A pale, gleaming shadow tore through the forest, flashing between the samurai. Each step, each strike, painted the ground red. Screams rose and were silenced in an instant.

The circle of enemies crumbled, shredded by a blur of claws and steel.

Yamato’s chest tightened. She knew that presence.

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

"Lucci… I was wrong…"