"Welcome!"
The moment Tatsuma stepped into the nightclub called Dream Night, he was greeted by a chorus of soft, sweet voices. Two rows of girls lined the entrance, their faces radiant with professional warmth.
A middle-aged woman, dressed more luxuriously than the rest and carrying the unmistakable air of experience, sauntered over. She naturally looped her arm through Tatsuma's.
"Welcome, guests! First time at Dream Night?" she asked, her eyes sweeping over them. "Judging by your attire, you must be distinguished guests staying at the Shironami Onsen, yes?"
Tatsuma gave a slow, deliberate nod. Their arrival wasn't a matter of a simple Transformation Jutsu; their yukatas were highly specific—they were the signature robes of the most expensive hot spring inn in Shiroizumi Village.
There was only one reason for the wardrobe choice: they were broke. If they had come in normal clothes, the staff might have demanded payment upfront, blowing their cover. Dressed in these yukatas, however, it was perfectly natural to "forget" a wallet. Given the village's hierarchy, everyone knew that anyone staying at the Shironami was loaded. A "Mama-san" like her—an expert at sizing up a customer's pockets—would likely give them a longer leash on the tab, perhaps even offering to escort them back to the inn to collect payment later.
After nodding, Tatsuma didn't speak immediately. Instead, he maintained a scrutinizing, overly critical gaze, scanning the girls milling about or standing at the entrance. After a moment, he curled his lip in feigned disappointment and turned to the visibly uncomfortable Minato.
"Zenzou," Tatsuma said, his voice loud enough to carry. "The quality here seems pretty lackluster. Maybe we should try somewhere else?"
Minato didn't answer right away. He was drowning in the alien atmosphere of the club, but his stiff, awkward silence was interpreted by the Mama-san as sheer disdain. She scrambled to salvage the sale.
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Why the rush?" she chirped. "You wouldn't expect a jeweler to put his finest diamonds in the front window, would you? Please, come have a seat in a booth. I'll introduce you to our absolute best. Kimi, dear, bring two bottles of sake and keep our guests company for a moment."
Hearing the Mama-san order a girl to bring the house's best, Tatsuma gave the woman's shoulder a light, dismissive push to free his arm. "I'm not a fan of high-pressure sales."
"Oh, don't be like that!" she cooed. "These two bottles are on the house—a small apology for the wait."
Only then did Tatsuma allow a smug smile to touch his lips. He draped an arm around the woman's shoulders. "Now you're starting to pique my interest."
The Mama-san kept her professional smile pinned in place as she led them to a booth. The girl named Kimi arrived shortly after, carrying two bottles of sake.
She quickly cleared the table and asked in a soft, melodic whisper, "Honored guests, would you like your sake warmed?"
Tatsuma answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Warmed. It's freezing out there. Cold sake is as unpleasant as a drop of icy dew falling from a branch while you're trying to soak in a hot spring."
Beside him, Minato—who had been worried about being forced to break the rules by drinking alcohol—let out a silent sigh of relief as Tatsuma successfully stalled for time. He also couldn't help but wonder why Tatsuma seemed so uncannily familiar with how these places operated.
Minato didn't dwell on it for long, assuming Tatsuma had simply picked up the nuances while scouting the village.
Kimi lit a small charcoal brazier and began the process of heating the water for the sake. By the time she finished, the Mama-san had returned with a fresh lineup of girls. She waved Kimi away and beamed at Tatsuma.
Before she could even start her introductions, Tatsuma waved a dismissive hand. "Next batch."
The Mama-san's face stiffened for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered her mask. "You certainly have high standards, sir. Let me fetch another group for you."
"Next batch!"
When the second group arrived, Tatsuma didn't even let them finish lining up before rejecting them again. The Mama-san didn't dare protest. She led the girls away and stayed gone for a considerable amount of time—long enough for the sake to sit in the heater until half the alcohol had probably evaporated.
Finally, she returned with only two girls.
Tatsuma and Minato both felt a jolt of recognition. One of the two was Murata Yuko. However, Tatsuma didn't jump at the chance. He played the part of a seasoned, jaded "customer," his eyes traveling back and forth between the two before finally pointing at Yuko.
"I'll take this one. Zenzou, what about you?"
Minato didn't want to pick the other girl—or anyone, for that matter. Remembering Tatsuma's earlier arrogance, he looked at the Mama-san, intending to ask for "another batch" just to buy more time.
But Tatsuma knew the limits of the game. A small-village club didn't have an infinite supply of hostesses; pushing further would make the Mama-san suspect they were there specifically to cause trouble.
Tatsuma flashed a mischievous, knowing grin and spoke before Minato could. "Mama-san, it looks like my friend here doesn't have eyes for any of your girls."
"Oh? That's... quite a shame..." the Mama-san stammered.
"However," Tatsuma continued, "you're quite a catch yourself. Zenzou, don't you agree?"
Minato froze, realizing he'd just been thrown under the bus. He could only offer a helpless, strained reply. "Would that be... too much trouble?"
"Not at all, not at all!"
The Mama-san waved the other girl away and sat down between Tatsuma and Minato, pulling Yuko down with her. She pulled the overheated sake from the water and poured a round with a smile.
"This lovely girl is Yuko," she said. "As for me, you can call me Meiko-nee. And how should I address you gentlemen?"
"Sakata Gintoki," Tatsuma said, pointing to himself, then to Minato. "And this is Hattori Zenzou."
"Gintoki-san, Zenzou-san... Let me warm another cup for you."
The Mama-san noticed Yuko sitting with her head down, ignoring the guests. A flash of irritation crossed her eyes, but she kept her voice sweet as she reached for the sake. Tatsuma intercepted the cup.
"Wasting warm sake is like wasting a girl's youth," Tatsuma remarked. "I'm not a wasteful man like Zenzou."
With that, Tatsuma downed the cup of "sake" that was now little more than hot water. He then looked at Minato. Minato's face darkened; he felt like Tatsuma was taking unnecessary shots at him today, but he caught the signal.
Sitting in a club and not drinking a single drop would be too suspicious. He took the cup from the Mama-san, let out a performative huff, and drained it. Meiko-nee didn't suspect a thing. She began pouring and reheating a fresh round.
Just then, a commotion erupted at the entrance as a new group barged in. Tatsuma looked toward the noise, his expression one of feigned annoyance. The moment he saw the newcomers, his eyes narrowed into slits.
In the middle of Yusuke and his gang of ronin was their primary target: the Takigakure rogue, Naka Noboru.
Murata Yuko saw them too. Her dull, lifeless eyes suddenly snapped into a sharp, lethal focus. Her body tensed, and she began to rise, but a firm hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Tatsuma looked at Yuko and tapped the table. He didn't say a word, but his message was clear: Stay down. Don't ruin the opening.
Yuko understood. She didn't want the "guest" causing a scene that would force her to miss her chance. She reached for a cup and held it out to Tatsuma, her voice trembling slightly.
"Sir..."
Clink—!
The moment she spoke, Tatsuma grabbed her hand. Startled, Yuko dropped the cup. The Mama-san began to bristle, ready to scold the girl, but Tatsuma spoke first.
"A hand like this... it's not meant for pouring drinks for filthy guests."
"I... what do you mean?" Yuko stammered.
Tatsuma ignored her question, his eyes fixed on the raw, red scars on her hands. "Do you know what a hand like this is actually meant for?"
Yuko didn't answer. Tatsuma caught a glimpse of Minato delivering a silent, precise neck-chop to the Mama-san, catching her as she went limp. Tatsuma looked back at Yuko and dropped his voice to a whisper.
"It's meant for avenging your brother."
Yuko's eyes widened, but before she could process the words, Tatsuma seized her hand and shoved her away with a violent jerk. He suddenly put on a face of pure, unadulterated rage and roared:
"Whimpering and crying?! And you expect me to drink from a cup held by a hand as hideous as yours?! Who the hell do you think I am?! I came here to spend money and have a good time, not to deal with your misery!"
"What's going on over there?"
At the entrance, Naka Noboru's attention was drawn to the shouting. He turned, his brow furrowing as he glared toward their booth.