The next morning, Shanks woke early. After freshening up, he made his way down to the hotel's modest dining area. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling eggs hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of tea. Choosing a quiet corner table, he sat down and began his breakfast in silence, enjoying the brief mont of calm.
Just then, the main entrance of the hotel opened with a soft creak.
A girl stepped inside, wearing a fitted blue jacket adorned with the proud emblem of the Uchiha Clan on the back. Her Konoha forehead protector glead beneath the soft light. Mikoto Uchiha stood in the doorway, scanning the room with sharp eyes until she spotted him.
With graceful strides, she crossed the room and stopped in front of the table where Shanks was seated. Her expression was calm, though a hint of warmth flickered in her gaze.
"May I sit here?" she asked, motioning to the chair across from him.
Shanks, without even looking up at first, already knew it was her. His Observation Haki had registered Mikoto's presence long before she had entered the building—well over a hundred ters away.
Looking up, he t her gaze and gestured politely. "Yes, please."
Mikoto sat down with ease, her posture relaxed.
"What brings you here so early?" Shanks asked, picking up his tea.
"I ca to et you. Or am I not allowed?" Mikoto replied with a playful smile.
Shanks smiled faintly in return. "You're an Uchiha. Who could possibly stop you from going anywhere you want?"
Mikoto chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's more like it."
Then, leaning forward slightly with a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, she added, "Alright, let's get to the real reason I ca. Actually, you owe us a thank-you. My Uchiha Clan has made things easier for you. Your bounty processing is nearly complete—you can claim your reward anyti now."
Shanks raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And how exactly did your clan help with that?"
"My clan uncle," Mikoto began, "is the one leading the Uchiha expedition here in the Land of Hot Water. He personally assisted the intelligence departnt in identifying the high-ranking Kirigakure Jōnin you submitted. As for the rest—the over a hundred Chūnin and a handful of Genin—their identities were verified through a joint effort between the intelligence and dical departnts. Thanks to that, the entire list of bodies you turned in yesterday has been catalogued, and your bounty has been calculated."
Shanks leaned back slightly in his chair, processing the news with mild surprise.
Shanks smiled faintly and said, "Then thank you very much."
His words were sincere, but behind that simple gratitude, his mind was already moving. He understood the underlying motive behind the Uchiha clan's assistance—particularly the actions of Mikoto's clan uncle. It wasn't purely an act of goodwill. No, Shanks knew better.
He was well aware that the uncle of Mikoto had likely pushed for the rapid identification of the Kirigakure Jōnin bodies to verify one thing: the truth behind his achievents. It wasn't just about confirming the dead; it was about asuring the man who had brought them down. And when that man happened to be an Uzumaki it made perfect sense that the Uchiha would want to understand the full extent of his strength.
There was history here. Old grudges didn't die easily.
Looking back at Mikoto, Shanks asked with a raised brow, "So, you ca all the way here just to tell that?"
Mikoto shook her head with a soft smile. "Of course not," she replied. "I ca to invite you to a eting—with the Daimyō of the Land of Hot Water. He wants to see you. Around noon."
Shanks's expression shifted. His eyes narrowed slightly, his interest clearly piqued. "The Daimyō wants to et ?" he echoed. "Interesting."
Then, a subtle suspicion crept into his voice. "But if the Daimyō wants to et , shouldn't he have sent one of his officials to invite directly? Why are you the one delivering the ssage?"
Mikoto shrugged lightly, her expression relaxed. "He is sending soone. Officially, I an. I just got ahead of them. When the Daimyō issued the order to one of his retainers, I happened to be present with my clan uncle. So I heard it and decided to co here myself and give you a heads-up."
Shanks gave a thoughtful nod, accepting the explanation. It made sense. And Mikoto, as always, had her own subtle way of staying one step ahead.
With that, he resud eating. Mikoto signaled the server and placed her own breakfast order, and the two sat in companionable silence as the morning light poured in through the windows.
Just as Shanks finished the last of his al and rose from his seat, Mikoto also stood—her breakfast only half-eaten but she was full.
At that very mont, the front doors of the hotel swung open with quiet urgency.
A tall man dressed in formal attire, clearly an official of the Land of Hot Water, strode confidently into the room. Four uniford guards flanked him, their eyes sharp and posture disciplined. The group approached the front counter, and the official asked in a firm voice, "We're looking for a guest nad Shanks Uzumaki."
The man behind the counter hesitated for a mont, eyes flicking across the room before landing on Shanks. Recognition dawned, and he raised a hand, pointing politely toward the table near the window.
"There," he said. "That's him."
Shanks had just stood up, brushing the folds of his long coat as he did. Mikoto rose with him, her deanor calm and composed, as though she had expected the timing to be this precise all along.
The official scanned the room as he approached, his eyes settling on Shanks with certainty. From the man's composed deanor, striking red hair, and distinctive presence, there was no doubt in his mind—this was the man he had been sent to find.
Stopping in front of him, the official offered a respectful bow and said, "I am an assistant to Lord Daimyō. You must be Lord Shanks Uzumaki?"
Shanks gave a small nod in acknowledgnt. "That's right."
The official straightened and reached into the sleeve of his robe, withdrawing a formal card bordered in gold. "On the orders of His Lordship, the Daimyō would like to et with you, if you are free this afternoon. The appointnt is scheduled for noon today."
He extended the card to Shanks, who accepted it with a glance before tucking it away inside his coat.
"I understand. I'll be there," Shanks replied simply.
The official bowed once again. "Very well. I'll inform the mansion of your confirmation." With that, he turned and departed, his guards following behind in formation.
Mikoto, who had been quietly watching from the side, smiled. "Well then, I'll take my leave too. Let's et at the Daimyō's mansion at noon."
Shanks nodded to her. "See you there."
With the morning now free, Shanks decided to take a casual stroll through the capital. The city of the Land of Hot Water was lively even during the quieter hours, its streets lined with steam baths, markets, and traditional inns. He wandered with no particular destination in mind, simply observing the life and rhythm of the people.
By late morning, he returned to the hotel and retreated to his room. There, he spent the remaining ti in quiet reflection. He ditated for a while, regulating his breathing and focusing his energy, and followed it with a short session of basic exercises—enough to keep his body warm and alert without exhausting himself.
As noon approached, Shanks bathed thoroughly and changed into a clean set of clothes. Standing before the mirror, he adjusted his collar, ensuring he looked presentable for the eting. Satisfied with his appearance, he donned his long coat and stepped out into the daylight once more.
The walk to the Daimyō's mansion was uneventful. The grand structure stood at the heart of the capital, surrounded by high stone walls and guarded by elite retainers. Upon arrival, Shanks presented the invitation card to the sentries at the gate.
The guards examined the card carefully, then straightened and bowed. "You may enter."
A servant stepped forward and silently gestured for Shanks to follow. He was led through a series of corridors, their polished floors gleaming and paper walls adorned with calligraphy and scrollwork, until they reached a large, stately hall.
The doors slid open, and Shanks stepped inside.
At the far end of the room, seated on a raised platform, was a middle-aged man clad in elegant robes—the Daimyō of the Land of Hot Water. His bearing was noble, yet not overly rigid, and his gaze was sharp and assessing.
To the Daimyō's right sat several mbers of the Uchiha clan, their proud expressions unmistakable. Among them, Shanks recognized Mikoto and, beside her, a stern-looking man—likely the clan uncle she had spoken of.
To the Daimyō's left were several other figures Shanks didn't recognize—advisors, perhaps, or influential nobles of the court.
As he stood at the entrance of the hall, all eyes turned to him.
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