633Summary: The Monk and the Monkey: missing in action. Just what the hell were they up to?!
(Keep an eye out for Journey to the West references.)
As a jōnin of Iwagakure, Rōshi had only one thought upon waking up in a futon that wasn't his own. The instinctual alarm was ever-present, even with the time he spent meditating well away from the village in the center of the Land of Earth. Some habits from the war could never be fully settled.
He was most assuredly captured by the enemy.
He sprung up into a nimble crouch, hands reaching for weapons, only to find that his holster was missing, that he was wearing a poor patchwork of a kimono, and that his hair was undone out of his topknot. Even if that was all foreboding, though, a quick assessment also revealed his body was still acquainted with the same number of extremities as ever. Fingers, toes, and so on.
A short gasp had him whipping around, only to face—
Ha. Your fears, manifested before you!
—the smallest, thinnest girl he'd ever seen. A little purple-haired wisp of a thing.
She held an unfinished straw kasa in her hands, wearing a patchwork kimono of her own with her hair styled into a modest bun. The girl couldn't have been more than six years old—seven maybe at the oldest—her slight frame clearly suffering from a recent stint of malnourishment. But despite this, her disposition appeared positive, her stunned silence turned into a wide, gap-toothed grin, big eyes sparkling.
Rōshi dropped his arms to his sides immediately, almost ashamed of his first instinct jumping to pure violence. This was no threat.
"Mr. Son! Mr. Son, your friend is awake!" she turned, calling out the door. Raising the kasa over her head and hopping from foot to foot in a cheerful little circular dance that rapidly took her back outside.
"That hairless ignoramus is not my friend," a familiar voice grouched aloud, prompting Rōshi to immediately stiffen.
His hand grasped at the seal on his stomach on reflex. It didn't feel like it had leaked or cracked—aside from his own chakra, and that of the beast, there was no sign of tampering. Even then, the connection was muted. The Four-Tails was…talking to another human. Out of its cage. Freed.
Was he dead? Because that was the only way this strange conversation could be happening.
"Heehee~ Don't be silly! You're still here. Right, Komachiyo?" A clearly huge dog barked in response to accompany the Tailed Beast's grumbles, and the girl hummed a soft tune for a little while as she thought. And dismissed Rōshi's presence entirely. "Now what about this one, Mr. Son?"
" …Girl. That is still far too small. You will need greater materials to make a kasa that would fit me." How in the world was that beast actually talking to a person? Rōshi wasn't just dead; he was in hell. "Perhaps a new attempt is due."
"Aww, I guess you're right. I mean…" She trailed off in a bright, unrestrained giggle. "This one doesn't even fit on your finger!"
"It does not." The ground shifted as a huge paw, visible even from inside of the hut, spread out as flat as simian knuckles would allow. "Prove it for your own eyes."
The girl's shadow lifted her creation onto one of the Four Tails's flat, dark nails and burst into laughter again. Her hat took up less than a third of its smallest fingernail.
Rōshi bent, retrieving the discarded hair-tie, which had been courteously placed next to his pillow along with his regular clothes, and dutifully returned it to its proper place. His thoughts were an unhappy stew of anxiety, bafflement, and the sinking realization that the situation was something he had to deal with. No, this was far too domestic and borderline merry to be hell. And the pinch of hunger in his belly was at least one sign he was still amongst the living, a very mortal kind of suffering.
Letting out a frustrated huff, he rubbed the bridge of his nose where his usual accessory band was missing. The last thing he remembered was meditating under the scorching high-altitude sun, so of course his armor had been removed to better expose him to the punishment of the elements.
Seems they had not followed him, though. Hm…
And with the scents wafting in from outside…rotting seaweed, dead crabs, and a hint of salt. Yes, he was close to sea level. One question resolved.
Rōshi rallied himself and brushed aside the flimsy bamboo curtain, stepping outside into noonday sun.
He winced, squinting. The light of the sun was just at the correct angle to glare directly into his eyes. But he saw green. The dense foliage was a bamboo forest in such size and scale that he'd never seen in person, towering overhead. Each stalk was as thick around as a tree, standing so tall that it blocked almost all the light bar the one evil ray sneaking through.
Still keeping his face shaded, at least until he adjusted, Rōshi asked the girl, "What is this place?" His initial bet would've been the Land of Grass; the bamboo forests there were at effectively neutral, having been brutally suppressed by fighting between Iwa and Konoha over ten years ago.
Yes, Rōshi was deliberately ignoring the mountainous red ape sitting right behind her. Some things needed to be addressed in order, and not in front of a child. Thankfully, the Four-Tails moved very slowly when it picked up its huge hands and crossed its arms, then turned a house-sized head deliberately away from Rōshi.
It was sulking.
"Oh, this is the Kuri Bamboo Forest on the western side of the island," came the chipper reply from the child. The girl looking absolutely miniscule in comparison to the looming beast behind her. How was it that she wasn't frightened? Its breaths alone threatened to send her tumbling. "Komachiyo and I found you all washed up on the beach with your friend, so we took you back here to help you feel better!"
Though perhaps the massive hound explained her fearlessness, the yellow almost pig-like beast lounging indolently in a sunny patch of ground, its fanged jaws easily capable of rending flesh. Even if the beast was tiny compared to the Four-Tails, it was almost an explanation.
Rōshi frowned at her words. Now that wasn't right. He knew of no beach even remotely close to the Land of Grass, let alone an entire island.
Something was very wrong here.
"Is Kuri the name of the country?" Hopefully, that would give him somewhere to start.
The girl shook her head. "Mm-nope! The country's name is Wano!" She peered at him curiously. "Mister, did you hit your head?"
Wano. He knew of no place within the elemental nations called "Wano." Rōshi's frown deepened. "What is the meaning of this?"
The girl's smile dropped upon seeing his expression, twisting her fingers together nervously.
Rōshi blinked and then, in a fit of inspiration, sat down on the ramshackle porch. It accomplished nothing scaring the poor girl. Still, it appeared this place hadn't been maintained in a long while, the boards on the porch in desperate need of a wax and polish. Where were the child's parents?
He had enough sense not to ask.
"Let us start over. I am Rōshi of Iwagakure."
"Oh, uhm." The girl's eyes had gone huge. She stammered, "I'm Tama of, uh…Amigasa Village! It's that way." She pointed in a direction that led deeper into the bamboo forest, and then recorrected after a moment of thought, smiling brightly.
He nodded. "Thank you for saving me, Miss Tama."
The Four Tails's voice was a rough, toneless grumble above their heads. But if it didn't start an argument in front of a child, neither would Rōshi. It was a truce as fragile as a cobweb.
Rōshi decided to choose his battles today.
YOU HAVE BEEN CALLED.
Rōshi did not allow himself to wake after such an intrusion. Not for nothing did he survive more than forty years' experience in blocking out the intrusive thoughts of another such being on the sanctity of his mind. Any siege against him now would need to outperform a hostile Tailed Beast who wielded natural energy like a sword, and Rōshi had no more tolerance for attempted usurpers just because they could make a voice boom in his head.
Especially the fifth night in a row.
YOU ARE THE FOURTH.
No more. Instead, he reached out. Found the source of the sound like the scrawny neck of a crowing rooster. Felt thorns and spines dig into him in thoughtless, reflexive retribution.
Rōshi held on anyway.
YOU WILL ASSEMBLE THE NINE.
And pulled.
A deathly screech answered his interference and power surged down the line.
And he met it in kind.
Eyes snapping open, Rōshi spun away as a wave of brambles attempted to cascade over him, fire already on his lips as he spat it in a wide arc and blasted his way free. Acrid ash coated his tongue on the backwash. The thorns fell back screaming as they died.
The Realm of the Heart and Mind was a reflection of the soul and the will of whatever wayward traveler found their way into its lands. Your past, your torments, the things that linger most on the mind, these reflections may be born into reality in such a land of mists and mirages as a test to the spirit and to the body.
Strength of will ensured that one was not devoured by their own figurative demons. Or the literal one bellowing at his figurative door all the damn time.
Monks for generations had used the realm as means of attaining clarity. Each sought their own peace, and often they shared their teachings only in the physical world. Rōshi, as a much younger man, chased that peace like a man seeking water amid a trackless desert. Something to give him the strength to continue in a bloodstained world.
The Tailed Beasts on the other hand…
He never came to a firm conclusion regarding why they used it. While clearly capable of thought amid malice, they were so riddled with rage and instinct that enlightenment was a futile dream. Neither the Four- or Five-Tails ever stopped bashing at the walls of their cages. Some days, it was all Han and Rōshi could do to keep equilibrium.
Could a force of nature find zen?
The Four-Tails seemed intent on proving the opposite as it opened its great maw with a roar and spirit fire rained from the depths of its jaws…
Right into Rōshi's path.
Raising his palm and clasping his prayer beads in hand, he faced the onslaught. The air grew hotter, and hotter, and hotter—
The world turned green. The air went thin. Massive whirls of flame curled around him and surged into the vines like water following the call of gravity. Only the tiniest embers flickered across Rōshi's little pocket of resistance and latched onto the brambles still caught in his hair and sleeves, blasting them to nothing in an instant.
That wave parted like a pair of ghostly doors, dissipating into the ether.
"Hmph," the Four-Tails growled, its bulk blocking the advance of the next surge of thorns. "So you are still here."
"Despite your best efforts," Rōshi said, patting at the stray embers clinging to his clothes.
"Believe your petty lies if you wish," the beast replied. In here, as in reality, there were no longer chains or cell bars to cage it. Strictly speaking, its freedom gave it the leeway to cremate Rōshi on the spot. "Salve that weakened pride, for you are not my enemy. This time."
"Glad to hear it." Rōshi didn't even mean it sarcastically tonight. They had a more pressing problem. Something was clearly the source of these attacks, and they were attacks going by the aggression he'd just witnessed after plucking that string. Whatever was at the end of this had designs on the other Tailed Beasts and their hosts. And it was conscious enough to notice a firm rejection.
For what other reason did it demand to "assemble the nine?" There was only one "nine" that had any real significance in Rōshi's mind, and absolutely no possibility raised boded well.
"The will of this being is unfamiliar to me," the Four-Tails said, raising one huge palm to cup its chin as it thought. "And yet, it bears a resemblance to a creature from the beginning of the world. One does not easily trespass in the realm my family constructed."
It was not to be trusted. The Four-Tails was only a worthy ally by comparison, and Rōshi's primary evidence of this was its refusal to crush Tama despite days of exposure to the girl's legion of pets and her attempts to feed it mochi. The Four-Tails didn't have a tongue and barely had a throat and didn't even need sustenance as far as he was aware, so Rōshi didn't see the point.
Still, his opinion of the creature…moderately improved.
The next wave of thorns advanced slowly, warily. That movement expressed a tenacious intelligence that told Rōshi that this was only the beginning.
His eyes narrowed.
And he leapt, gaze following the twisted knot of brambles and the path they lead as spirit fire cushioned his footfalls, carrying him over the field as easily on the air as it would if he used chakra over water.
The infestation spread out into the distance. Like a dark snarl of hair around a plugged drain.
"Fire cleanse this rot," the Four-Tails rumbled like an earthquake, bounding beside him. Its larger bulk looked strange employing the green flames for temporary flight, the little wisps burning for all four limbs instead of Rōshi's two. Still, it showed who was the true master of the fire, as the Tailed Beast used every powerful lunge to cast fiery rain onto the brambles below. The realm glowing brightly in their wake. "Such defilement to this sanctum will be met with force. Mark my words. My siblings would not stand for this sacrilege."
Rōshi had no reason to doubt it. Not here and now.
From the air, it became increasingly clear that there was still more modification wrought by the enemy. Rōshi's preferred meditation aesthetic was a vast, clear lake. He made a point to visualize it the same way each time, while the Four-Tails lambasted him for his lack of creativity. Nevertheless, he persisted.
Where the hairlike strands gathered, caught up by their own mass, the lake was befouled black. Ordinarily, its waters were serene from surface to a deceptive depth. One could see the individual river stones amassed on the floor for a dozen meters straight down, along with the false fish that populated the place. Even Rōshi's occasional explorations of the area—testing the limits of his will and imagination—never revealed the tangled thing still trying to creep its way back into the lake.
The Four-Tails's green flames surged onward in a vicious, merciless circle that crowded the lake and the monster. As the last of the black tendrils slipped under the water's surface, there was a flash.
And when the light was gone, the lake reflected the sky—and Rōshi and the Four-Tails—like a silver-backed mirror hundreds of meters across.
Rōshi landed amid the flames even though they licked at him, and the ground trembled as the Four-Tails did the same. With his inner demon's huge fists bracketing him, Rōshi approached the last of the burning brambles, picked up a writhing little scrap of vine, and pitched it into the lake.
The bramble skidded across the surface and finished burning four meters away, never showing a single sign of sinking. The ash stayed, floating across what Rōshi could only assume was the thinnest possible layer of water atop a barrier.
"Well," Rōshi said, tilting his head back to view the Four-Tails's face upside-down. "This is a fine pickle, isn't it?"
"The only development between now and one week ago is that the enemy has revealed its presence." The Four Tails's nostrils flared. Its jaw worked in a way that was almost contemplatively human. "Count yourself lucky, human. Were it not for your mental fortitude, the parasite might have latched itself to you."
"A parasite," Rōshi repeated, feeling his brows pinch together in a frown. He turned on the spot in an attempt to look the Four-Tails properly in the face. "What makes you come to such a conclusion?"
The Tailed Beast's growl rippled the water's surface. "History is a funny thing, is it not? Without your pitiful human scrawlings, time cannot be measured and the annals of eras which came before are lost. Whereas I bear history's weave upon my bones and the memory of ancient enemies on my tongue." Large yellow eyes narrowed and Rōshi got the sense (despite there not being visible pupils) it wasn't glaring at him, but at the pool. "There are forces older than the world you know, human. You would do well to remember that."
Rōshi took a moment to step onto the surface of the lake. While ordinarily he would be able to choose whether his footsteps kept to the surface or sank, this time he had no choice. The lake refused to admit him, as though it was only a centimeter deep all the way across.
"What are you doing?" Rōshi probably wasn't imagining the note of alarm in that monstrous voice.
"Testing the lock." Rōshi stepped back with a sigh. "No one's getting through this way now."
"A being like that never yields for long," the Four-Tails replied, and cupped a hand around Rōshi to block his view of the lake and corral him back to the shore. "There will be other opportunities."
Unfortunately, its prediction came true.
Between the hours of domesticity that they had cultivated on this strip of forest, Tama insisted on a dream of becoming an "bewitching kunoichi." While there was no sign of shinobi in the area—and there wouldn't be—Rōshi reasoned that there could be no harm in teaching an orphan how to defend herself. Rejecting the girl made him feel like he had kicked a helpless puppy. And once she had permission, the cut-down training gave him something to occupy his time between meditation and eyeing the Four-Tails suspiciously.
It was barely genin-level work. More often, Tama fell below that threshold. Still, she was a civilian child with a spark. Rōshi watched her fall flat on her face more than once and simply redirected her efforts, with only a minor verbal push. Correction, not cruelty.
There was no need to quash that spirit here.
Every day, beasts cavorted in the forest, heedless of any danger, and they all treated Tama like a most precious packmate. While Rōshi didn't see the Four-Tails devour some heady substance to explain its changed behavior, even the giant ape mostly lounged in the sun and let any wayward creature crawl over its body unimpeded. Other times, it sat in meditation much like Rōshi, which mostly made him think it was copying him just to participate.
While his guard never truly dropped, Rōshi felt himself relax against his will into this strange stop on his pilgrimage.
And in daylight, there was no warning.
The intrusions into his mind had effectively stopped from that night on, but now he understood it to be a ruse. The parasite had been waiting for the opportunity to strike. For him to let slip his guard.
The assessment came too late; as always, hindsight provided clarity only after the fangs arrived. Rōshi grunted as an invisible kunai stabbed through his brain in the middle of a very modest dinner of bamboo stew and choice pieces of giant koi he'd managed to catch. His jaw creaked with the force required to swallow an instinctive bellow of pain. Tama shouted as he tumbled to the floor, convulsing, the pressure on his skull incredible.
"Master Rōshi! MASTER RŌSHI!" Tama screamed, reaching for him.
Elsewhere, he was aware of a cacophonous roar.
And the world bent. Folding like paper cranes. Snapping into focus as he awoke in The Realm of the Heart and Mind once more, brambles around his throat. Thorns caught in his flesh, bleeding him of strength and chakra together. Of thought.
And then—
Fire.
His fire. Even as the thorns snagged at his hair, flames exploded from Rōshi's open mouth. He drove them directly into the brambles ensnaring him like ninja wire, burning everything that touched him. Something amid the thorns screamed as the fire burned and burned, unhooking itself. Retreating, to try again some other day.
"Not this time!" Rōshi snapped around a cough, feeling the lake's shore under his feet. He snatched a remaining bramble, wincing as the long thorns cut into and through his hand. In the other he raised two fingers in a seal, his prayer beads glowing as he focused his chakra, recalling the teachings of the Earth Temple monks.
The dangers to the spirit were many and varied when delving into the secrets of the universe. Only those afflicted with self-destructive arrogance would dare claim otherwise. Souls didn't always come home to the flesh that originally housed them.
The prayer beads shot upward, before slamming down around him in a circle, sacred script blooming to life in a lotus mandala. Purity against corruption. Binding his spirit. Anchoring his soul to his self, even as he prepared his body for its ultimate challenge.
Then, with a twist of his hand, Rōshi brought the bramble to the fore and dove through the barrier.
Pathways.
Infinite pathways.
Following that thread, Rōshi saw the face of the enemy. Amid the broken reflection of that tranquil lake, a growing and seething thing sprawled out across every spare meter. A noxious, infectious tree growing in the center, poisoning all it touched.
He followed them all to their source. Because if there was one danger to creating a vast network to a singular mind, it was that whatever was looking through the other end could be seen back.
And this thing had left the door wide open. Thinking nothing could touch it.
A scream. This time it was definitely human. Definitely a woman, in agony.
The noise rattled through his mind as something like memories flashed by. Oceans. Oceans. Oceans for as far as the eye could see. Occasional islands dotted the vast blue. The blue stretched forever across a horizon so vast it wasn't a horizon at all—instead, it was the impossible curve of a planet, viewed from the kind of height few shinobi could ever see. Blue-black emptiness above stretching forever.
Rōshi only recognized this at all because of his study of esoteric techniques. Even then, the description hadn't done it justice.
And then he saw it, a vast mountain range crossing from one horizon to the next and upon it, like a crown, a city rose.
Then tunnels. Tunnels.
Down, down, down they went.
Like roots themselves they burrowed deep into the dark earth, tunnels, then halls, then a great ringed eye—
NO!
Snap.
The line cut. And he was back on the surface, his line going slack. He was cradled in the Four-Tails's huge palms like a stone, and its huge face glared down at him with fangs bared. Part of him wanted to eject his entire stomach lining and then maybe a whole organ, but he held back. The Four-Tails would probably just dump him back in the lake.
But he had already seen all he needed.
"That was reckless," the beast scolded. "If the parasite had caught you, its influence would hollow you like a gourd."
Rōshi shook his head. "Doesn't matter. It got the results we need. I now know where to find her."
"Hmph. And from this scrap of information, you assume the tools to defeat such a creature are already at your disposal. Typical human arrogance," the Four-Tails said, as unimpressed as ever. "The little one wails for your return. Obey and learn from her example."
True to the Four-Tails' word, Tama was weeping and drooling all over him when he awoke, her cheeks flushed and splotchy with distress. Snot dribbled out of her tiny nose and down her chin as she launched herself at his face and caught her skinny arms around his neck. The sobbing continued unabated.
Behind her, a man wearing a red tengu mask watched on, his arms crossed.
"Your presence here endangers my ward. I must ask that you leave," the masked man said, his voice rough with age. If Rōshi had to guess, this man could easily be twenty years his senior, bent-backed and withered by the passage of time.
"Your ward? Then she has been left unattended all this time under your care," Rōshi replied, sitting up. He tried to pry Tama off him, but her grip tightened.
"Y-You ca-can't dieeeeeee!" she wailed. One of her little arms came free solely to pound on his collarbone. Thump, thump, thump.
"Life hasn't killed me yet, Tama," Rōshi tried, "so stop crying."
He had never spent much time around children. Iwagakure preferred to keep anyone below chūnin rank well away from the potential danger of a jinchūriki. After being made the Four-Tails' jailer at the age of six, vanishingly few adults even wanted to approach him, no matter his ties to the Tsuchikage's clan. Having a child willingly cling to him was…novel.
"I have been observing ever since you arrived," said the Tengu-Man, as though Rōshi hadn't tried to shush Tama at all, "and would have immediately acted were you to be a threat. You have fed and cared for her, so I know you personally mean her no harm. However, that time has come. The damned pirates will no doubt be alerted to your presence now that, that…creature outside has announced itself."
Ah, he meant the Four-Tails. Of course. The least-subtle thing here, and possibly on the whole damn island.
"You speak of pirates." Rōshi didn't tend to stay long near port cities, because Kiri-nin habitually congregated there. It'd be a warm day in the Land of Snow before Rōshi willingly subjected himself to their harassment. How dangerous could jumped-up water bandits really be? "I have seen no such brigands roaming the sea."
"Hmph, that is because our beloved country is infested with them. The current reigning daimyō is a usurper who fancies himself a god. And has granted such clemency to a notorious pirate faction ruled by none other than Kaidō, one of the Four Emperors."
That was certainly a useless amount of weight put on the expectation that Rōshi would recognize that name. He must certainly be far from home if such a grand title sounded mostly like one of the Four-Tails's self-aggrandizing rants. The Tengu appeared to take it entirely seriously, as far as he could tell with that mask blocking his view.
Rather than give the ignorance away, Rōshi managed to gently pry himself free of Tama's grip. Settling his hands on the still-sniffling girl's thin shoulders, he said, "Then it seems I must go."
And observe. And plan. And scheme, if necessary.
"NO!" Tama shouted, clutching one of his hands with both of hers. She looked almost like she'd bite his sleeve to convince him to stay. "If you stay here, I can protect you with my friends."
"Your power is paltry, child," the Four-Tails interrupted. It had twisted around to peer down at the meeting within the hut, as opposed to pretending to meditate and actively ignoring everyone out of sheer spite and pride. Its massive eye peering in through an open window. "If one with true strength cowered behind the bodies of weaker warriors, they could never look the world in the eye again."
"But…" She sniffed wetly, her eyes big and watery. "B-but…"
"Be reasonable, Tama," the Tengu asserted softly, "These two are a grown man…and ape. They can take care of themselves."
Tama bowed her head, lip jutted out in a pout and trembling like a leaf in the wind. "B-Bokay…"
And that was that.
Leaving Wano went considerably less to plan.
Somehow, the country was surrounded on all sides by massive walls and strange sea conditions that made it difficult for Rōshi to tell exactly what would be the biggest threat. Carp larger than anything but battle summons sometimes surged up huge waterfalls as he explored his options, heedless of even the Four-Tails's presence on their path. The people, too, under the ever-present misery of poverty and starvation, were sometimes so strange that Rōshi didn't quite know if they were human or barely failing to mimic one.
Still, moving among them mostly wasn't difficult. All he had to do was look as downtrodden as they did.
Tama had packed for them a modest selection of supplies that she thought they might need on there journey. And who was he to deny her the comfort of sending them off prepared? Even if the items were less than useless.
A paper lantern. A woven doll. A roll of chopped bamboo stalks. And a sturdy walking stick. Some battered silver coins were also a part of the package, but he very surreptitiously returned them to her pillow when she wasn't looking. He wasn't about to take her only means of monetary support.
"Now, Master Rōshi," she'd said, as she patted down his pants and made a show of making sure his pack was secured, even if she couldn't reach the straps. "You and Master Son have to get along on your trip. 'Cuz otherwise, how are you gonna find your way home?"
"I will endeavor to be on my best behavior," he had said, to which he heard the Four-Tails scoff. No, the challenge of this journey wouldn't come from his end of things.
"Okay good! And when you're out there, could you look for my Big Brother Ace? I just want him to know that I'm doing okay and that I'm six years old now! Almost grown up!"
He made no such promise, but did say he would do his best to keep a lookout. It was a wide, strange world. The chances of running into this Ace were next to nonexistent. He just tucked the information into the back of his mind and carried on. Like many of the things he learned as he walked the length of Kuni, shadowed by a giant ape, little was actionable.
Staring out into the roiling sea and stormy skies that circumvented the entire island, Rōshi stroked his beard thoughtfully. The image of where he needed to go was stamped onto his brain as surely as the woodburn scrawls upon the Earth Temples walls. He knew exactly what he was to look for and where. But the getting there was certainly the greatest challenge.
But how to get there? Wano was apparently shaped like an impossibly large bowl of soup and its myriad toppings, just based on what he'd found from basic research. Mostly, this involved stealing glances at maps pilfered from government officials, who never realized a shinobi in their midst could have simply attacked with impunity. The water gathered around the distant stone walls of Wano was almost all fresh—insofar as such polluted coasts could be—and hid the true sea beyond.
Getting to the wall didn't present too much of a problem, even for the Four-Tails and its hatred of swimming. It was more a question of what to do afterward that drew Rōshi to a stop.
Rōshi had no sailing experience. His pilgrimage across the Land of Earth was just that. And the vision had not been clear on the islands that he had to pass, it had only emphasized the great red range— akin to the spine of the very world. That was his destination.
"You know, you could always jump, human," the Four-Tails amused voice cut across his thoughts, eliciting a deeper scowl, "End it all."
Rōshi turned to glower up at the Tailed Beast, who was perched upon the border wall as naturally as if it belonged there. If it wasn't so bombastically red, it might have even blended in with the scenery. "Why am I unsurprised to find your first comment is devoted to being unhelpful?"
"Only to cut short this ponderous brooding that has gripped you so. Where is your sense of action, shinobi?"
"Hold it right there!"
Rōshi turned and beheld a bizarre sight as he peered down from the lip of the wall bordering all of Wano. A ship bearing what looked like a crew covered head to toe in leather and spikes was heading right for them from the main island, moving at speed through the freshwater reservoir.
And at the prow, standing so tall he might as well have been a boat himself, a mountain of a man stood. Large curling tusks sprouting from his head like a bull's and an additional pair of tusks, this time more elephantine, framing his torso. Long blond braids hung down each side of his barrel chest, and his curved swords alone dwarfed most of the men clustered around him. His legs were tiny and his arms practically reached the deck, like some kind of over-muscled gibbon, and he did not look like he was interested in sightseeing.
And the voice, which came from somewhere around the giant man's knee, bellowed, "You are under arrest for trespassing on our territory!"
Rōshi couldn't even see the speaker. He could only assume it was someone else with a weird outfit, because there were so many to choose from.
"And humanity supplies yet more reasons for apes to claim superiority."
"Keep your commentary to yourself, please." And if one man was that large in comparison to the ship he rode, then Rōshi didn't even know if he qualified as human.
Rōshi decided against heaving himself up onto the Four-Tails's shoulder to get a better view of the ship. If the crew was already making threats, there'd be no point in negotiating until Rōshi beat them into submission. All moving would do in the meantime is give the enemy an easier target. Despite his experiments with the scraps of the Four-Tails's influence he could access, Rōshi still lacked Magma Release and most of his expanded chakra capacity. By any metric, he should avoid battle.
But the tusked man clearly had no intention of letting peace reign for long. Leaping wholesale from the deck of his own ship—and nearly dropping it below the water in the process—he drew those twinned curved blades and swung at the Four-Tails in midair.
Being nine meters tall and a disproportionate freak with spindly limbs did not give him advantages. Because while he might have forced Rōshi's skeleton to buckle under the weight of the blow, the Four-Tails was over a hundred meters tall while sitting down. Its tails doubled that, easily.
And it backhanded the elephant-man out of the air like a housefly.
"Pitiful creature," the Four-Tails hooted as the relatively paltry giant skidded across the top of the wall. "You stand no chance in the face of this Great Sage. Only your ambition is worth praising."
Ports along the side of the ship opened fire, cannons blasting into the Tailed Beast with impunity, but they did nothing but make the ape angry. One swipe of its limbs sending a massive wave that threatened to capsize the entire vessel.
Rōshi at the peak of that swing leapt, leaving the Tailed Beast to deal with the elephant-man while he took care of the crew.
He brandished the walking stick, channeling Earth chakra through its length.
It took to its new shape, becoming hard as steel.
It would suffice.
Crack-crack went the staff, Rōshi breaking through their ranks as easily as a scythe through a field of rice, knocking many of the men overboard and noting that some sunk with a heavy plunk. Even here he could see that many of the men were more like misshapen creatures, a hodge-podge mix of animal and man that only raised more questions than answers.
With the horns adorning their helmeted heads, they reminded him of storybook tellings of oni.
Though, in the process of disassembling their ranks, he did note that quite a few had their head accessories fall off, so that was at least one theory he could put to rest.
Men playing at dressed-up demons, a child who produced kibi dango from her face, and now needless hostility. What is wrong with this place?
"Hah! You believe your new form will grant you the strength to best me?" he heard the Four-Tails crow in the distance. "Come, then. Face me with everything you have!"
He had to look. And immediately, Rōshi saw a sight that could only inspire pity and burning second-hand embarrassment: the Tailed Beast easily holding off the man-turned-elephant with a single contemptuous foot, cramming its opponent against the stone wall. The furry elephant's trunk barely wrapped around the thumb there in an attempt to wrestle itself free, to no avail.
Even if it did, the feet and tusks didn't allow for much grip when the wall the Four-Tails was using to its advantage was damn near vertical. The Four-Tails didn't even bother to try and crush its opponent; its two huge hands were occupied holding the top of the wall like a tree branch. The only way out was down, and drowning.
A smarter opponent might attempt to wriggle out by changing shape.
This elephant-man had not, apparently inherited anything useful from his elephant side besides size. He flailed more.
While Rōshi's opponents stared up at the Four-Tails in dumbstruck awe, Rōshi maneuvered around them until he located the second-in-command of the ship by size. Certainly the man wore enough ornamentation for a reasonable guess. With the man distracted, Rōshi idly swatted him off the ship at full strength. He sunk like a stone, just like many of the others.
Interesting.
No one noticed Rōshi's experiment because, at the same time, the Four-Tails slammed its enemy into the wall hard enough to leave a crater in the stone. And stomped again for good measure.
The captive audience was apparently sympathetic.
"Oh no, Jack!"
"Jack!"
A colossal crack echoed across the waves, and then a physical one followed. Under the Four-Tails's assault, the wall itself was starting to give out. One of the Four-Tails's hands broke a chunk of stone off and bashed the elephant with it, almost dismissively. It only stopped when the rock crumbled in its hand and the elephant-man had stopped wriggling.
"Struggle all you want," the Tailed Beast growled, finally deigning to grab its opponent with its real hands. The elephant-man had shrunk to only his starting size again, dangling in the Tailed Beast's grip like a particularly ugly ragdoll. Once it had lifted "Jack" to eye level, the Four-Tails growled, "No longer will you reach beyond your means."
And bit down.
Rōshi didn't spare the man any sympathy. By deliberately attacking a Tailed Beast, he'd earned this ending. It was in the nature of apes to use their teeth even more readily than any weapon—
Ah—?
—Only for his thoughts to dissipate in a retina-searing flash.
The sound came after, the blast wave rocking over the ship and shearing the central mast in half with the force, an earth shattering roar breaking the air like the eruption of a great volcano.
That doubled, persistent echo of the Four-Tails's mind against Rōshi's vanished like dust in the wind . Just like that.
That was—
Rōshi was alone in his mind for the first time since he was six years old. If not for his neverending awareness of the seal on his stomach, he might've even thought he was no longer a jinchūriki. Free to live his life as he saw fit.
As it was, the seal burned like it had been freshly applied, the backlash of such a catastrophic dispelling of the Tailed Beast's body no doubt leaving some kind of mark. Though he hadn't the presence of mind to look.
Then came the waterfall.
Because as one would expect with any explosion of such scale, the resulting blast had carved a sizable chunk out of the soup bowl that held in Wano's fresh water, and in the event of such a void appearing, well…
Water had to go somewhere.
Bracing himself with more grace than some of these so-called pirates managed, Rōshi met the resulting flood head on as they were swept downstream. Feet planted to the deck, he kept only one hand flat to the mast and held on with nothing but the pure strength of his chakra. Men and beastmen screamed around him, holding on for dear life as the ship bobbed like a cork down a drain and out into the perilous torrent of the open ocean.
Some of the men had the sense to start towing lines, preventing the ship from careening into the pinnacle rocks that stuck out like fangs in the surrounding waters. Others did not, and just kept screaming.
"Heave! Heave, you lackwits!"
"We're gonna diiiiiiie!"
"Someone shut that landlubber up!"
"Where the bloody hell is the Headliner?!"
It was chaos, but despite only having half a mast, they managed to steer the ship into some semblance of stable water, albeit still beset by the frequent storm surges that plagued this section of sea. While Rōshi hadn't gotten around to visiting Kirigakure and wouldn't anytime soon—given current trends— the Land of Snow had some real nonsense in its geography where the freezing land met the sea.
"Oh no! At this rate we'll get washed too far out to call the koi."
"This is all the old man's fault!"
"YEAH!"
It was a small consolation to know that he was surrounded on every quarter by enemy combatants, and therefore didn't have to calculate before swinging if violence became necessary again. But he had not survived one of the greatest wars the world had ever known to be cowed by the mere tongue-waggings of boating brigands. No matter how improved their physical capabilities were, they were still mortal men.
And Rōshi was not above bending the truth to suit his purposes.
Ōnoki never appreciated it.
Walking forward so that he was not completely surrounded, Rōshi was mildly amused to note that they parted for him, as if in awe of his presence. Or perhaps fear was the better descriptor. Either way, it suited his purpose for at the moment they appeared too shaken to strike at his flank or back. It was the same principle as punching a beast in the nose to establish dominance.
"So you have seen the true power of my pet. Well then, imagine what I, who masters such a beast, could do to you," he informed them, punctuating his words with a lethal spike of killer intent.
That shook them probably more than his unflappable display. Some of the weaker men fainting outright.
The remaining crew looked at each other nervously, lowering their arms as they appeared to realize that they were trapped here with him, not the other way around.
Someone gulped audibly.
With that issue momentarily put to rest, Rōshi turned to address them directly. His gaze fell upon the third man in the rankings, who did his best not to cower and failed. With the stone staff extended as a threat, Rōshi slammed the full force of his killing intent outward and said, in a voice not to be argued with, "Take me to the Spine of the World."
The Spine of the World, as he called it, turned out to be known as the "Red Line" to locals. A vast ring of ten-thousand-meter mountains that stretched around the entire world.
Having it described to him, he might have assumed it implausible if he hadn't seen those very mountains in his vision. As it was, the breadth of this particular sea was known to be quite hostile, a sentiment that the crew insisted upon reminding him. Constantly. Part of the reason these particular weaklings followed his lead now, in the end, boiled down to utter fear that their lack of a strongman protector would kill them immediately.
There had been one particular snag for a moment there when the crew announced that none of them had a device known as a "log pose" and thus navigation was impossible.
But the connection with the foreign mind could not be denied. It drew Rōshi to its direction like a magnet to polar north. In the absence of any navigational equipment, he was their guide.
This left more than one member of this crew in confounded awe.
Son Gokū's demise… There was no precedent for it that he could remember. On occasion, older jinchūriki of the Four- and Five-Tailed beasts bowed to the limitations of human lifespans and were asked to make a true sacrifice—their life, to turn the Tailed Beast over to a younger human and maintain the chain of custody. Rōshi himself had not been the first host of the Four-Tails. In another decade or so, he'd have to truly consider the question at the hands of the new Tsuchikage (unless Ōnoki outlived him as promised). He knew that when a jinchūriki died in battle, it often took time before the Tailed Beast to reform, but for it to happen in reverse…
It was disquieting. As though some fundamental rule had been broken. All that power was in the wind until such time Rōshi could—somehow—retrieve the Four-Tails. Or at least find a successor, if he was no longer a suitable host with a defunct seal sitting empty.
He meditated often. It served as a patchwork substitute for sleep, given the bone-deep awareness that his sole reluctant ally in the Realm of the Heart and Mind was no longer available. Even if the pirates were still loyal, they often acted entirely helpless outside of sailing.
In a bizarre turn of events, Rōshi's new habit drew in other participants.
"Am I doing it right?" one man stage-whispered to his compatriot.
"Nah, nah. See your legs have to be like this."
"But I can't bend like that…"
"Well…try harder?"
Rōshi cracked just one eye open to see several of the pirates in various stages of attempting to sit in the lotus pose, trying and some failing to mimic him.
Some of the pirates had deigned to divest themselves of their ornamentation, opting to wear simpler attire in a bid to display their shift in loyalty. Perhaps it was simply a means of hiding so that they would not be so readily labeled as deserters. Either way, he let them do with themselves as they pleased, so long as they kept on their agreed heading.
"Hey uh… Capt—er. Master Rōshi? There's a Marine ship on the horizon."
Unfolding from his position, Rōshi stood and ventured to stand next to the man who spoke, a spyglass pointing out to sea. At this distance, the ship was nothing more than a white smudge, but upon his silent request, the pirate granted him possession of the device and he was able to see the vessel in all its glory.
It was heading in their direction, perpendicular at an angle to their heading, its shape massive in comparison to the ship he had currently commandeered. If he he had a guess, it was fortunate that most of their sails had been sheared in half and they were low in the water, because if not they would have been spotted long before now.
"What do we do, Master?"
Removing the spyglass from his eye, Rōshi turned to see all eyes of the men he'd practically liberated (by some accounts) from Wano. Some looked frightened. Others determined.
One of the frightened men, with a missing eye and a notable crick in his jaw, pointed in the direction of the Marine vessel. "T-that's a G-5 ship if'n's I ever seen't one, your honor. They, uh… They tortures us pirates, see?"
Did they now?
"To torture you," Rōshi said firmly, "they must catch you." He turned to the assembled pirates with a frown. "And that means all of you need to be elsewhere immediately. They will not be able to pursue."
A few blank expressions returned his speech. A man with a moderate attempt at Rōshi's topknot hairstyle said, "But what about you, sir?"
"Yeah and…" A thought hit another thought in a different pirate's head. "Well, actually, the islands around here aren't that bad. I recognize one of 'em."
"Then head for it and enjoy the rest of your life." Rōshi stepped onto the railing, calculated a couple of angles, and shot for the water's surface. Several of the men audibly gasped and at least one man shouted—
"Shit, boss, don't do it—!"
—Only to fall utterly silent as green flames burst from his heels and he was skidding over the water without a break in his stride.
"He can fly?!"
"So unfair!"
While it wasn't strictly flight, it might as well be close enough as he jumped much further than any normal shinobi could hope for. Rōshi made sure he kept low to the waves, trying to obfuscate his trajectory, the water hissing and sizzling in his wake. It'd do no good to reveal himself before the moment was right; he wanted it to be a surprise, after all.
Once he was sure the Marines had spotted something— given away by their turn to expose their cannons—Rōshi dove into the water and used the Transformation jutsu. While fish were often preferable forms in the ocean, Rōshi hadn't seen any recently aside from on the end of a fork. For now, a dolphin would have to do.
He sped to the ship, and watched as some of the dots milled about in confusion, searching for a target that was no longer there. He waited long enough for the watch to lose interest, swimming alongside the wake of the ship, before taking one heaving leap and transforming into a small gecko, padded feet clinging to the side with just a touch of that extra chakra assistance.
Soon he found his way onboard and slinked his way belowdecks, ready for the real infiltration operation to begin.
Marines, he discovered, were rather…predictable.
There was a rote strictness to their daily routines, almost robotic. Day in and day out they sought out to fulfill seemingly arbitrary guidelines that made everything seem so droll. It was like watching a box of toy soldiers on display. The sameness in their patterns started from the moment they got up, to the moment they lay their heads on a pillow, only to repeat the same thing the next day.
It was simply maddening.
The pirates were often cruel, had the judgment and impulse control of toddlers, and bowed to the most powerful in their midst, but at least they weren't boring.
It was in the stories they shared in the evening, when dusk was just beginning to make way for starlight. Stories of adventure and triumph and lost love and longing. They kept up the pattern around him like the fight had never been crushed out of them. Sometimes they even tried to draw Rōshi into their reminiscing, or begged him for wisdom. It had all been so…
So painfully human.
Rōshi barely remembered what it was like. Before the Four-Tails, before "childhood" ended in fire—
He was becoming sentimental, and no one from Iwagakure could judge him now except for himself.
Which was why it quickly grew from maddening to uncomfortable to see such a stark mirror into his own past behaviors after bearing witness to such carefree lives, only to have that all stripped away into plain white walls and cold steel. Watching the soldiers view each other as mere parts to a whole, he could see where and when the "discipline" would surface almost before the men did.
Do as you're told.
Do not question authority.
Witnessing such a direct reflection to Iwagakure's militarism should have brought him comfort, but instead he found unease swirling in his stomach. And realized, despite having the opportunity to inflict such a burden upon Tama, he had instead restrained himself and allowed her to flourish. He told himself she was soft, and it wasn't his place to take that from her when the situation in Wano might do the same.
There was very little joy to be found here, and it was squashed immediately.
The "Marines" on this ship never did track down Rōshi's pirates. Mysteriously, the Animal Kingdom flag they'd spotted on the horizon seemed to have been merely a mirage. And if the next crew rotation checked the logbook, they would see the entry Rōshi modified to make it so.
Integrating himself into their ranks took some time, but by some providence time he had in abundance as murmurings from the crew indicated that they were to return to this "G-5" base. None seemed to notice an extra hand that was mopping the floor, or doing maintenance. It wasn't especially difficult to sneak from there to another ship with a more useful itinerary and be on his way, once he'd consulted a globe to be sure of the direction.
The Red Line was just as awe-inspiring to witness on the deck of a ship as it had been from the air of his vision, seeing it rising from the horizon like a great red whaleback was certainly something to behold.
And the great chained lifts that the ships loaded their supplies onto! A feat of engineering that he'd never seen the like. What great machines must be pulling these contraptions to bear them so easily into the sky. It seemed like, despite some effort on the part of a demonic tree, Rōshi could still see wonders and not just impending death.
It was worth it, to take a moment and just observe.
Watching as they rose, higher and higher. The sea falling away below. The clouds drawing closer.
It was all incredible, but he could not allow himself to get distracted. Not when his goal was so close now. This moment, while he was disguised as an elevator guard was key in ensuring his entry into the great city above. None of the lower-ranked Marines had been allowed to access the elevator.
So it was between one moment and another, as men were given orders and boxes were being moved, that he slipped away once more between the cracks.
But the instant he was out of the bright sunlight, Rōshi stopped in his tracks.
Stinking heaving bodies for as far as the eye could see, straining as they held onto taut chains, sweat and trembling flesh displaying their effort as men and women all struggled to hold the bulk of the lift in place. Cruel jailers sneered as they walked along the column, slapping a whip into a gloved hand as he looked upon the people as if they were mere cattle.
What in the… What the hell was this?!
Shivering in barely contained rage, Rōshi narrowly avoided getting stepped on by a passing guard. His skittering form shot for a gap while the guard was distracted by beating a prisoner, disappearing amongst the brickwork. He had to keep going until he was through the wall due to a lack of space to turn even his skinny body, and that delay gave time for his anger to build. His current body was too small for it.
This was what lay behind the curtain of the World Government? Slavery and rampant excess? He had seen the gilded gates and spires from the landing!
A fine way to live when your military preached justice and goodwill for the people of the seas, only to sow corruption at their very core.
This is the result of her influence, he reasoned. This is the leading edge of her rot.
If it wasn't—well. It was easily a mirror reflecting misery onto mortals. Symptomatic of the greater corruption.
Though anger surged through him like magma, Rōshi got a grip on his temper before he could act on it. This—abomination of a society couldn't be torn down or resolved in a day. Though he was competent enough to traverse half the world in pursuit of the greatest evil in it, Rōshi didn't have the resources to escort and guard those beaten down by this treatment. That would require—more strength than he had, of course, but also more access to transportation, more food—
Rōshi's false tail twitched. Lashed, really, in pure agitation.
No, he had to bide his time. Watch. Learn. Wait for the opportune moment to strike. If this was what lingered under the surface of the glamor, what more lay in wait deeper below?
It was time to find out.
…And as he feared, it only got worse.
Slaves were used for every conceivable convenience. Whether it be as simple as opening doors or to be used as a sadistic mimicry to beasts of burden; the laziness and casual depravity of the local nobility had few limits. They even branded their slaves like cattle, with what looked like a clawed footprint that often rested between a victim's shoulder blades. When one man broke and ran, the shackle around his neck immediately detonated like an Explosion Corps project.
The nobles—"Celestial Dragons"—barely blinked. If they reacted at all, it was to deliberately laugh at the slave who'd tried and failed to reach for any other fate. All while wearing those bubble-shaped helmets to avoid breathing the air of the common people. From their behavior—from their bearing despite their personal frailty—they feared nothing and no one.
There was a healthy layer of disgust every time Rōshi transformed into a different guise, loathing oozing from every pore as he watched every new atrocity parade before him.
And there indeed was an actual parade, somewhere in the middle of his first month in the city. The loathsome caricatures of nobility endemic to this world were on full, rotten display.
He witnessed the people's suffering and did not dare turn away. It was as though the neverending onslaught of misery had warped something inside of Rōshi's soul. If no other person here would catalog the horrors and see them for what they were, then Rōshi needed to—and he'd carry the rage it inspired onward. When he had the power, this place would burn.
The conviction crept up on him. Maybe it fought a lifetime of Iwagakure training to break through to his conscious mind. Rōshi was no stranger to pain—of course he wasn't—but pain had purpose among shinobi. Pain was a teaching tool, at its best. Only if used properly.
This was just sadism, unfettered by any shred of compassion. The rulers here did not even view their subjects as ants.
The chains rattled in Rōshi's head when he dreamed.
Another group of chains—bound to a mountain of rock—skittered across his mind. While the Four-Tails constant antagonism wasn't something Rōshi missed, exactly, there was a certain comfort to having another mind in contact with his. Even if the Four-Tails was often a deeply unsympathetic ear, it still listened to Rōshi's complaints first before making vicious remarks.
And he thought it would save its more caustic comments for what Rōshi observed. For once.
It wasn't until Rōshi took the step of infiltrating the central castle after another month in that he finally felt that presence again.
So now you understand but a fraction of a Tailed Beast's suffering. A familiar voice curled faintly within the sanctity of his mind. Like a distant echo, and yet Rōshi could almost imagine the furnace heat of the Four-Tails at his back. Will wonders never cease.
You have returned! Rōshi couldn't prevent that thought from slipping through, freezing where he hid behind a bit of molding along the walls. Where had his discipline gone?
Barely. Immediately, Rōshi saw a brief glimpse of an endless field of liquid rock and smoke and steam. The back of an ape's hand, held up to the intermittent sunlight and a faint sense of curiosity. All simple images the Four-Tails never needed to share, but chose to anyway. Though just in time, it seems.
Taking in his surroundings, Rōshi could only agree. He was currently ensconced deep within Pangaea Castle in the center of the city, having found little valuable information amongst the smaller mansions that surrounded it. The wide empty corridors and pristine cleanliness was disturbing to behold, the slaves pushed to greater lengths to ensure its purity.
Taking on the appearance of a spider, Rōshi was careful to keep himself to the smallest of corners, not wanting to alert the beings that walked these halls.
All were sensors in some capacity. Some were even the next best thing to having true understanding of the future. But Rōshi, whose emotional turbulence had not become action, blended in with every other misery. It was only due to that well-trained restraint that he was able to avoid them.
You are rattled.
Much has happened since we parted, he said, crawling into the high arches of what looked to be a richly decorated parlor, sitting himself amongst the glittering finery of a crystal chandelier as he gazed down upon the plush cushions of green sofas. The World Government's symbol was stamped prominently in the carpet, indicating to him that this was indeed an important office.
So it appears. You have found the source of the nest of snakes.
Or at the very least the entrance to their den. Look.
With the sensation of someone hooking their chin over his shoulder, the Four-Tails peered out through Rōshi's eyes. Below, two of the great double doors opened to allow a procession of five elderly men. Giants all, most of which who wore crisp black suits as opposed to the white military dress of their lessers.
And not a single one bore a bubble-helmet.
The doors closed with a soft click, near deafening in the silence of the room.
"So we are all in agreement, then," one of the men with a massive curled mustache spoke, the shaven dome of his head only slightly marred by liver spots, "The arrival of these beasts is unprecedented, and information about them must be controlled."
"We cannot make this decision alone," another spoke. The black cap on his head did nothing for his heavyset appearance. " He would like to know."
"Do you truly believe He would wish to be disturbed by such matters?" said a completely bald man in a pair of spectacles.
"It concerns the world, so yes," the single blonde in the group added, looking several decades younger than his companions.
"Then to the throne room. Let us entreat His wisdom," the last announced, his face pulled long by the length of his drooping mustache and beard.
As one, the men all turned and made for a secondary door than the one they entered, and quick as a mouse, Rōshi made to follow. The Four-Tails's attention rested against his consciousness like a real weight.
This chamber, if possible, was even more vaulted and extravagant than the last. Its high ceiling reaching to such lengths that darkness threatened to engulf all who entered. The paltry effects of candlelight doing next to nothing to illuminate its numerous pillars and arches.
At the apex of a grand staircase, a throne lay empty, illuminated by a single point of light from above. The four-pointed iconography of the World Government's emblem made up the back, done in gold, and long red-and-gold banners hung from the ceiling and framed it along each side. Natural light illuminated the back of the room, creating a visual effect that implied spiritual purity. Blades, rusted from disuse, were stabbed at the foot of the throne, their significance lost on Rōshi as they appeared to be the only thing left in disrepair in this chamber.
The five men advanced before all bent on a single knee, bowing as if this were a great altar. Their voices ringing loud in the gloom:
"Oh Great Imu, bestow upon us your wisdom!"
Rōshi held perfectly still, hiding the miniscule bulk of his spider body under a curl in the rug.
From the shadows, a form bled outward, as jet black as if it were born from the depths of the abyss. A tall crown adorned its head and long robes trailed behind it as it stepped on to ascend the staircase toward the throne.
A great chill gripped the air. Cold calculation and a reptilian sensation slithered over all who bore witness.
A sense of foreboding.
Alighting upon the last stair, the being turned and sat itself upon the heavenly throne, cementing itself as the true king of this world.
And a voice, as chilling as the abyss, spoke in warped intonation: "All will be well. Mu has heard thy query. The Heavenly Will is upon thee."
"Mū" was a name Rōshi only knew for the Second Tsuchikage, meaning "nothingness." And unlike this creature, Iwagakure's once-leader was a truly levelheaded person by Ōnoki's account. "He" was putting on a good show, but it didn't take a man of great insight to spot the same immature personality of all the World Nobles lurking under the inky black surface. This was the kind of childish cruelty that ripped wings off flies.
That crowned head tilted, and Rōshi saw a pair of eyes glint with malicious humor.
Eyes of burning, ringed red. Only the lack of tomoe in that iris allowed Rōshi to discount the Sharingan. Even so, nonexistent hairs on his nonexistent neck stood up in alarm.
"Let these Beasts roam to their hearts' content. Let them find succor in the glory of their bonds. It will be for naught. The will of God is absolute."
Rōshi didn't think of the black band painted across his right wrist, which had been with him since waking in Wano. But the Four-Tails did, and drew his attention to it.
What do you think is the focus of their worship, here? From everything Rōshi had seen so far, this culture gloried solely in the self. The people might revere their "saints," but this being is above them. Or at least respected. Where does its loyalty lie?
Elsewhere. The Four-Tails sent along a strong impression of down, like that moment before a man plummeted down a sheer cliff.
Ah, yes. The tunnels. He recalled them from the vision, if not necessarily how to get there. Chasing dreams did have a frustrating side effect: getting lost.
There was a deeper layer to uncover here.
And this thing—He eyed the being languishing upon the throne—is merely a puppet to the true master.
Suddenly, those eyes seemed to jerk and fall upon him.
Ah. Time to go.
"Who issssss there?" the king—no, creature, hissed. Its body elongating off the throne like a serpent, its form unraveling and dripping inky viscera onto the stairs.
The end of the shadow didn't leave the throne. No, the creature grew as it flowed down the steps in a black wave and swiveled its bulbous head around at an inhuman angle. Its eye-rings added an extra layer, making it appear truly crazed.
THERE YOU ARE.
The voice! She was using this creature as a mouthpiece!
Except there was no mouth.
Rōshi leapt away as an arrow of pure darkness speared the place he'd been, popping out of spider form only to replace it with a wolf mid-stride. He turned tail and ran. There was no way even this level of desperation would make him reveal his true form to something like that. It might have picked out his presence, but there was no sense making anything easier on his pursuers.
"THE FOURTH DRAWS NEAR. GATHER THE NINE," it warbled, voice doubling over itself with a woman's shriek that was all too familiar now. It swung at Rōshi again, wildly, and missed. "SEIZE HIM!"
Yet the elders were too slow on the draw, seemingly too caught off guard to react properly as Rōshi once again shrunk to the size of a beetle to skitter his way into a crack in the floorboards. He dropped into empty air and darkness one floor down, swearing furiously, and a gunshot cracked through the molding an instant later and showered him in plaster.
The chase was on.
Blackness surged through the gap in the ceiling, forming a massive probing arm with five spindly fingers. The hand slammed down just behind Rōshi as he swapped from beetle to the shape of a vicious stray cat he'd met once. He streaked between furniture and barely-open gaps in the doorways, running for an exit that might not exist.
"MOTHERRR—GUAHH—KANNON!"A gross snapping and enraged crying could be heard, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Loud thunderous crashes echoing down the castle corridors as the creature floundered among the maze of its own creation. "FORGIVE THIS MU! FORGIVE THIS MU, FORGIVE—"
Well, thought Rōshi as he ran and the castle shook, I think that counts as a name.
Something smashed sideways ahead of him. Rōshi dug his fake claws into a rug and shot in a different direction, still running.
There was the sensation of something hooking into his gut. Not pain, but—
Pop.
Rōshi's hold on his Transformation broke, leaving him lying on his back in the bright sunlight and with no idea how the hell he'd gotten away. It took a second or two for him to recognize the ridges and curves under him as a palm.
A familiar simian face craned down to peer upon him.
And despite himself, Rōshi relaxed enough to grumble, "I'm too old for this shit."
"A 'thank you' would not go amiss," the Four-Tails said, before unceremoniously dumping Rōshi to the ground. Rōshi only rolled once before the Four-Tails's other hand arrested his movement, and the beast said, "But apparently I will have to settle for a 'you're welcome' of my own making."
"Guess so, Son Gokū," Rōshi groaned into the dirt. Every part of his body ached from inadequate rest and exertion, so all he could really say was, "Ow."
The Tailed Beast just laughed at him.
REMINDER: This chapter came out as of Chapter 1088 of One Piece where no significant developments came out as to the nature of Imu's powers. So everything listed is pure fan speculation and canon divergence :3