Gojo, after defeating Kishimoto, removed his sword from the man's neck and slid it back into its sheath with a soft click. Kishimoto followed suit, sheathing his own blade with a wry smile tugging at his lips. While shaking his head, he said, "I must say, I wasn't expecting to lose so quickly and so thoroughly. Yes, I expected that I would lose once you started using your devil fruit powers. But losing this quickly and so dominantly, without being able to put up much resistance, really makes me feel ashamed. At the same time, it also shows just how powerful you are."
Gojo nodded at Kishimoto's words, offering no response to the praise. A faint breath slipped out of him as the tension of the bout eased from his shoulders. Then he said, "Anyways, thank you very much for being my sparring partner for so long and for giving me a few pointers during our battle. They helped me improve to this point. I'm grateful for that. And I'll pay a whole year of dojo fees as the fee for this final battle I had today with you."
Kishimoto immediately shook his head. "I don't need any fees. Come to my house—let's have dinner. While eating, we can also have some talk."
Gojo felt a flicker of confusion at Kishimoto's sudden invitation. Kishimoto almost never extended anything beyond a polite farewell after their battles. Usually, Gojo left right after the sparring match, and Kishimoto was never the type to get sentimental over a loss. So this… felt odd. Did something happen? Still, if someone was offering him a free dinner, Gojo certainly wasn't the type to refuse.
He nodded, though he warned with a light chuckle, "Be careful, I eat a lot of food. Don't go by my small body—I eat a lot."
Kishimoto burst into a loud laugh, the sound echoing lightly through the yard. "We ambitious people in this world eat a lot. So don't worry. Even if you eat a lot, it won't be much more than my diet. I just need to order double the food to be prepared."
Gojo only shrugged, unconcerned. Then, following Kishimoto's gesture, he stepped inside—entering Kishimoto's house without further hesitation.
…
After almost an hour, Gojo and Kishimoto finished their dinner and were now sitting opposite each other, quietly enjoying dessert. The soft clink of spoons against porcelain filled the calm room. Gojo finished his portion first and set the empty dessert cup on the dining table. Then, turning his blindfolded gaze toward Kishimoto, he spoke in a steady voice.
"Now can you tell me what exactly is the reason for you to invite me to your house for dinner? I know from your behaviour till date that there must be a significant reason behind you inviting me here. And I can feel a sense of hope from you—directed towards me. You're hoping for something from me. Tell me what exactly it is that you want."
Kishimoto gave an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Was I that obvious?"
Gojo stayed silent, offering no reaction. He simply waited, letting Kishimoto gather his thoughts and explain.
…
Kishimoto set his half-empty dessert cup down on the table, exhaling before he finally began to speak.
"My name is not Kishimoto. My real name is Isadora. I come from a distant kingdom in the New World—a place you might have never heard of. It is the Dressrosa Kingdom. Seven years ago, I served in the royal guard as the deputy of the guard team. We worked directly under King Riku. I was one of the best warriors in Dressrosa… but I had a big flaw—my overconfidence in swordsmanship."
He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting toward the untouched portion of his dessert, as if the memories tightened his throat.
"You could even call it foolishness. Or obsession. I wanted to prove that even without learning Haki, a swordsman could surpass others purely through skill. And I was young then—I believed I had a long future ahead to learn Haki later. So it wasn't like I never planned to learn it. But to prove my point, I refused to touch Haki at all, even though I understood its existence. Here in the East Blue and Paradise, hardly anyone knows about Haki, but in the New World, everyone knows of it. Almost every warrior uses it."
His gaze lifted to Gojo, searching for acknowledgment.
"And if I'm not wrong, you yourself are a user of Observation Haki—one of the three."
Gojo gave a small nod, a simple motion confirming the truth.
Kishimoto continued, his voice growing heavier as old memories resurfaced.
"Seven years ago, on an unfortunate night, we didn't know what exactly had happened at first. But suddenly, King Riku—the ruler of Dressrosa at that time—went almost mad, cutting down the very people of his own kingdom. Panic spread everywhere. But we, the royal guards, soon learned the truth."
He clenched his remaining left hand, knuckles tightening.
"One of the infamous pirates—Doflamingo—had used his devil fruit powers to control King Riku and force him to commit those horrible acts. And our army… we fell quickly under the assault of his powerful commanders. We were utterly powerless, unable to do anything as royal guards. Many of us realized that staying in Dressrosa was nothing but suicide, so several decided to flee and return for revenge someday."
His gaze lowered, shadows sliding across his expression.
"I was among those who tried to run. But we were intercepted by one of Doflamingo's commanders. A battle broke out, we scattered, and in the chaos of fighting and escaping… I lost my right hand." He exhaled slowly, the memory clearly still painful. "Even then, I remembered the kindness Princess Scarlett had shown to everyone. I wanted to return someday and take revenge for what happened."
A faint tremor passed through his voice as he went on.
"Fortunately, I washed up on a stranded island and somehow survived. But I didn't have the guts to go back to Dressrosa. I knew I had no strength to defeat Doflamingo. So I decided to go to the World Government and report everything. But… a few days later, I read in the newspapers that Doflamingo had been made the new king of Dressrosa—fully recognized by the World Government."
As he reached this part of his story, Kishimoto's voice wavered. It was as if he were reliving that night all over again, and faint tears shimmered at the corner of his eyes. Still, he pressed on.
"At that time, I was in complete despair. All I wanted was to survive, because I knew that only by living—and training harder than ever—could I even hope to do some damage to Doflamingo. So I ran from the New World and eventually reached the East Blue. Somehow, I survived. I lived anonymously in this village, opened a sword dojo, changed my name, and trained relentlessly. I honed my swordsmanship with my left hand to regain what I lost… all so that one day I could return to the New World, learn Haki, and be at my peak when I finally stood against Doflamingo."
He lifted his gaze to Gojo, his expression turning grim and serious.
"But fate played a huge joke on me." His fingers curled slightly on the table. "As you can see, I look quite old—like I'm over forty. But that isn't the case. I'm only thirty."
Gojo's posture stiffened a fraction, though he didn't interrupt.
"At first, when I noticed I was aging quickly, I assumed it was stress. Different circumstances, trauma… I've always looked a bit older than my actual age. I never imagined it could be a disease. But after escaping here—and looking like a man over forty within just a few years—I felt something was truly wrong. As if my body really was forty-plus years old."
Kishimoto swallowed, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable.
"I went to a doctor to check. And he confirmed my suspicion. I am suffering from Werner Syndrome. It's a disease where a person begins aging rapidly after the age of twenty and cannot live beyond fifty. Because by the time that person turns fifty, their body becomes like that of an eighty- or ninety-year-old."
(A/N: This is the real disease in our world, so I included it here.)
After he finished speaking, a heavy silence settled in the room—thick, unmoving. Neither man spoke. Only the faint hum of the quiet house filled the space between them.
----
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