Inside and Outside the Door

Koldo was the first to hear the footsteps in the corridor.

After all these years of scraping by, his ears had developed an instinct for identifying people by the sound of their steps.

These footsteps were neither heavy nor slow. The rhythm of boot soles striking the floor was even, lacking Barlow's precision down to the slightest degree and Roy's lightness, as if he might spring into the air at any moment.

The person paused briefly at the stairway before continuing forward, his steps carrying an unhurried composure.

Koldo turned his head toward Rosa.

Rosa had heard it too. They both turned at the same time, their gazes fixed on the end of the corridor.

Damian emerged from the shadows by the stairway.

He was thinner than he had been three years ago, his features harder, though his shoulders had broadened.

He wore a dark brown coat with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing two old scars. They had been left behind on that night by the ships in Orange Town.

His hair was a little longer than either of his younger brothers', untidy, but his stance was the most relaxed of them all.

If Barlow was a blade sheathed in its scabbard and Roy was a drawn bow, then Damian was a tree, roots buried deep in the earth and branches spread wide, in no hurry to prove anything to anyone.

As Damian approached, Koldo bowed in greeting, the movement as flawless as when he greeted merchant ship representatives at the docks.

Rosa lowered her head at the same time.

"Mr. Damian."

Their voices nearly overlapped.

Damian stopped at the door and looked at the two people bowing before him. "You don't have to do this every time."

He gave a slight nod in return. The gesture was small, but he truly did nod.

By the time Koldo straightened up, his usual smile had already returned to his lips.

Rosa was not smiling, but she raised her head just a little faster than she had when facing Barlow and Roy earlier.

In the entire Uchiha family, only Damian returned the greetings of people like them.

The matter had been discussed at Orange Town's docks for a long time. At first, people said he was merely putting on a show. Three years had passed, and he nodded every single time, so no one said that anymore.

Damian glanced at the black door, which stood slightly ajar.

From inside came the dull sound of Roy being struck by something, followed by Mila's impatient scolding.

He placed a hand on the doorknob, paused, then turned to look at the two people in the corridor.

"You two go rest on the first floor,"

he said. His voice was not loud, but the corridor was quiet enough that every word came through clearly.

"You don't need to wait here."

Koldo opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something.

Damian pushed the door open.

Roy's voice leaked through the gap.

"Mila, if you hit me again, I'm really going to hit back."

Then Barlow said something, but it was impossible to make out.

Damian stepped inside, gripped the doorknob behind him, and pulled the door shut.

With a click, the latch slid into place. The door was finally sealed tight, and the corridor returned to silence.

Koldo's shoulders sagged half an inch.

He did not turn away immediately. He stood there, staring at the tightly shut black door for two seconds, a subtle expression appearing on his face.

His mouth still wore that practiced smile, but his eyebrows sank slightly.

At the docks, that expression was called "the ship has sailed, and you're still standing on the pier."

"What a shame," he said quietly.

Rosa glanced at him. From that angle, she could see Koldo's profile and his carefully coordinated outfit: a tailored shirt and black waistcoat, the pocket square folded into three layers, its exposed corner matching the color of the silver ring on his left hand.

Three years ago, when he had knelt at the docks and submitted, he had worn an old cloth shirt, his hair blown into a bird's nest by the sea wind.

Now, Koldo looked like someone cut out of a Goa Kingdom merchant guild catalog.

"You seem rather reluctant to leave," Rosa said.

Koldo turned around and headed toward the stairway first.

Rosa followed two steps behind. Their footsteps made no sound on the carpeted second-floor corridor, and only after descending the stairs did they hear their heels striking the marble floor again.

"Listening to a little gossip about the bosses is one of the few pleasures available to subordinates."

Koldo spoke as he walked, his tone carrying that carefully calculated self-mockery.

Rosa did not stop, but she turned her face to glance at him.

"Careful, or you'll lose your head."

Koldo laughed.

This laugh was at least thirty percent more genuine than the practiced smile he had worn in the corridor, two fine lines creasing at the corners of his eyes.

He reached up to straighten the collar of his waistcoat, his movements carrying a carefully cultivated carelessness.

"Ah, I know where the line is," he said.

"Coming from an intelligence broker, I know perfectly well what I should hear and what I shouldn't."

The two arrived at the side corridor of the first-floor hall.

The scribes behind the sixteen long tables in the main hall were still writing away. Through the open archway, they could see their bent backs as they worked.

Koldo pushed open a door at the end of the side corridor. Inside was the merchant guild's waiting room.

It was divided into four separate sections, each furnished with four cushioned armchairs and a low table. A small map of the East Blue hung on the wall.

It had originally been meant for visiting merchant ship representatives waiting to be received by Barlow. At this hour, there were no guests.

Koldo sat in a chair by the window, crossed his legs, and pulled a silver flask from the inner pocket of his waistcoat. He unscrewed the cap and took a drink.

Rosa sat opposite him.

"Are you free this weekend?" Koldo asked.

Rosa finally turned her full attention to him.

Her eyes were very pale, the color of shells washed by seawater for years. When she stared at someone, it sent a chill down their back. Those were the eyes she had grown after surviving for two years in Melton's casino.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Koldo screwed the cap back onto the flask, leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and smiled with the cunning unique to an old dock rat.

"Later, we can call Ando and Joey too. The four Uchiha retainers should get together once in a while."

Rosa's brows furrowed.

The movement was extremely slight. If Koldo had not spent years reading people's expressions, he would have barely noticed it.

"The four Uchiha retainers?" She repeated the words one by one, as if tasting a fruit she had never eaten before.

"You're already giving us nicknames?"

Koldo leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. The silver flask spun once between his fingers.

He looked around the waiting room.

Though it was not large, the sea map on the wall was a version personally marked by Barlow, the curtains were made from fine linen imported from the Goa Kingdom, and the ashtray on the low table was made of colored glass.

"Now that we've finally got the life we have today," he said, the slick shell in his voice thinning slightly.

"Shouldn't we find a little more fun? Back when we drifted through life at the docks, the first thing we thought about every morning was whether we'd die that day. Now we don't have to think about that. The docks are peaceful, cargo traffic has tripled, and money comes into our accounts every month."

He adjusted the ruffle along his waistcoat collar, his fingers tracing the fold of his pocket square.

"With our status, we need the proper trappings. Not just material things, but spiritual ones too. Like a reputation."

Rosa did not answer immediately.

She watched Koldo's silver flask complete its third rotation between his fingers, her gaze moving from his fingertips to his carefully groomed hair, then to his silver ring.

Then she looked away, toward the window.

Outside lay the streets of Orange Town. Afternoon sunlight fell over the stone-paved road as two merchant guild sailors passed by carrying a bundle of rope, dragging a long, slender shadow across the ground.