[RLOP] Chapter : 28 - Lucci's 'explaination'

Kuri, Mt. Atama

The night sky stretched endlessly above, glittering with stars. A cold wind brushed through the withered trees, their skeletal branches rattling faintly in the silence.

Yamato’s gaze darted restlessly between the heavens, the shadowy woods, and the brightly lit stronghold halfway up the mountain. She circled Lucci like an impatient child, pacing, stopping, then pacing again.

She simply couldn’t stay still. But then—she was still young.

Meanwhile, Lucci stood unmoving, arms folded, eyes closed in silent meditation. His presence was like an unshakable pillar.

At last, Yamato broke the silence, her curiosity spilling out.
“Lucci, that Denjiro you killed… was it the same Denjiro Hiyori mentioned? The one called the second-strongest of the Red Scabbards? The one with two colors of Haki, a master swordsman… and Orochi’s protector?"

Without opening his eyes, Lucci answered coolly.
“What’s wrong? Do you think Wano has two Denjiros?”

Yamato’s eyes lit up. She leaned closer, practically bouncing on her heels.
“Then tell me what happened! Please!”

“You really want to know?” Lucci tilted his head slightly, stroking his chin, studying the way her eager eyes sparkled like starlight.

Don’t answer a question with a question!

But that was just like him.

“Yes, yes!” Yamato grinned, then dropped into a horse stance, throwing a few mock punches into the air. “He was such a dangerous samurai, right? You must’ve gone through a tough fight to bring him down!”

She jabbed the air like Denjiro himself stood before her. The sight was… oddly adorable.

Did I really put in a lot of effort?

Lucci’s mind drifted back to that clash—the weight of Denjiro’s Ryou Haki fracturing his palms, the sharp sting of it.

Well… probably? Maybe?

Not that he had been breathing hard, or even sweating afterward.

After a thoughtful pause, he finally said, “When I escaped Orochi’s dungeon, I ran into him on the way.”

Yamato nodded vigorously, eyes glittering. “Mm-hmm, mm-hmm! And then? And then!?”

“Then we fought a few times. He wasn’t my equal. I won.”

Yamato froze, mouth slightly open. “That’s it? That’s your explanation?”

Her jaw tightened as she leaned forward, refusing to let it end there.
“The process, Lucci! Tell me the process! Every detail!”

…

…

The process?

Lucci opened his eyes, faintly exasperated. From his point of view, he hadn’t skipped anything. They clashed. He won. That was the process.

If anything, the fight had only lasted as long as it did because he wanted to feel Denjiro’s Ryou firsthand. Otherwise, with his speed, he could’ve cut him down in a single strike.

If I told her that… I’d just be bragging.

Still, Yamato’s eyes burned with disbelief.

“Lucci! Don’t try to comfort me with that!” she shouted suddenly, her voice echoing against the mountainside. “That hateful samurai… you must have fought him to the death, didn’t you!?”

Hateful?

Life-and-death battle?

…Well. Denjiro had died. That much was true.

Lucci gave a slight nod.

Yamato’s eyes widened, her conviction solidifying. The way he carried himself, the calm weight in his silence—it only convinced her more.

Her heart pounded. She was certain now.

At the same time, a trace of self-reproach crossed Yamato’s face.
“Even though I was locked away in the dungeon, I still know about the Red Scabbards. They’re warriors so strong that even Father wanted them under his banner...”

Indeed.

The survival of Kozuki loyalists like Ashura Doji—despite openly exposing their whereabouts—was mostly thanks to Kaido’s desire to recruit them, not mercy.
Otherwise, with nearly ten thousand Orochi garrison soldiers besieging the Mt. Atama bandits, Ashura Doji would’ve been crushed long before the prophecy’s promised day.

Beside him, Yamato continued, her imagination painting the scene in vivid strokes.
“Those scars on your body... they were all from Denjiro, weren’t they?”

Though phrased like a question, her tone left no room for doubt.

“I know because Hiyori and I treated them together! Those terrifying wounds—we had to bandage them all! They were piercing wounds, every single one!”

Silly child.

Piercing wounds healed faster than she realized.

But Lucci only gave a faint nod.

“That hateful samurai—he tried to kill you with every strike! It’s only because his aim was off that he didn’t hit your vital points. Otherwise...”

Her voice broke, and suddenly Yamato burst into tears.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the scene unfold—the young man standing bloodied against the most despicable, most loathsome of samurai.
The young man who refused to yield, who fought desperately even as his body broke.
The young man, crimson with wounds, collapsing at last—straight into her arms.

“I’m sorry, Lucci... You were already so gravely injured, and yet you still came to save me...”

Lucci, watching her cry, felt a strange melancholy stirring in his chest.

So this was what it meant—those in love abandon logic.

Yamato, in her innocence, ignored all contradictions, reshaped truths, and even wove her own logic together... all for the sake of preserving the hero she wanted him to be, the figure she could keep locked within her heart.

And Lucci... had no desire to shatter that fragile, beautiful fantasy.

Some misunderstandings were better left untouched.

“W-woo?”

Her sobs caught in her throat as she suddenly felt warmth on her head. Looking up, she found Lucci’s hand gently stroking her hair.

“Don’t cry. I’m here, aren’t I?”

His calm smile eased her trembling heart.

The next moment, Yamato threw herself against him, burying her face in his chest.

His scent lingered around her, grounding her in his presence. After a long silence, she spoke with sudden conviction:
“Lucci, I won’t cry ever again. I’ll become strong—so strong that I can stand at your side.”

“I’ve always believed you would,” Lucci replied softly.

Phew~

A cold wind swept through, carrying with it the first flakes of snow.

“Lucci-sama~!”

Hiyori’s voice rang out as she jogged over, excitement lighting her face.
“The bandit leader is willing to see you! He said if you can defeat him, then he will—”

Her words faltered as she slowed to a stop.

The distant white blur resolved into a clear scene—Yamato nestled tightly in Lucci’s arms.

Her steps dragged. Her eyes stung.

It should be me...
No—
I wasn’t even the first one here...

How could I possibly win now?

Wasn’t it hopeless from the start...?

On the other side, Lucci noticed her teary eyes as she approached. Extending his right arm toward her, he meant to pull her close.

But Hiyori, dazed and hollow, walked right past him without even noticing.

That’s not right...

At this point, shouldn’t you say, “Perhaps I came at the wrong time.”
And I would answer, “No... you came at just the right time.”

Lucci frowned, caught between irritation and thought. Just as he opened his mouth to call her back—

“Ouch That hurts”

Turning his head, he saw Hiyori clutching her forehead after walking straight into a tree trunk.