The Whereabouts of The Missing Oni Tribe

With the crisp ringing of a bell, Shiroe entered a dark shop with an unknown name, and following him was Kousuke who sported a pensive face. A strangely familiar scent, which reminded Shiroe of the forest in the early morning while the leaves and the earth were still covered in dew, greeted them as soon as they entered.

Looking around, Shiroe spotted several hand carved wooden masks and iron clubs hidden amidst piles of strange armaments. Almost instantly, he realized why the scent was so familiar to him.

"Irashai ma- ah! Inari!" Right on time, a tall, voluptuous lady entered the shop from the back room, as if to prove Shiroe's conjectures.

"Oni?" Despite his inability to see, Kousuke was still able to determine the identity of the store owner from the feedback he received from the surrounding chakra. "Why is an oni here?"

Indeed, this lady, who, apart from being considerably taller and more well developed in certain aspects than most women but looked mostly like a normal witch, was actually an oni. The same oni which muggles had depicted as unsightly monsters for eons.

"Fated was our meeting." Contrary to his uncle's confusion, Shiroe calmly greeted the oni lady as though meeting her, who was supposed to be in the forests of the Oni no Kuni region instead of in a shop in Murmansk, was extremely normal.

Inwardly, his mind was quickly forming numerous thoughts. If he was able to encounter an oni in this place so far away from their home turf, then the matter with the Mizukage's seemingly abrupt decision might be more complicated than he had initially thought.

"Oh, yes! I- uh- fated was our meeting." Still in shock, the lady stumbled through her words, nearly forgetting to greet back according to kemono clan customs. Though she managed to quickly steady herself, making Shiroe feel impressed with the oni's strong mentality. "So, what can I do for ya damn foxes on this awful day?"

Beside Shiroe, Kousuke coughed, shocked at the oni's bluntness. It seemed that his long time mingling with the polite and soft spoken aristocrats of Europe made him unaccustomed to the directness inherent to the oni tribe.

"If it's not too much trouble, I would like to buy the materials in this list if you have them." Shiroe said politely as he handed the list in his hand to the woman.

"Oh, yeah, we have 'em. Should be around 'ere somewhere." Muttering to herself as she read the list, the oni plunged into the scattered piles of potion materials in a dim corner, leaving the uncle and nephew pair to themselves.

Shiroe gave his uncle a meaningful glance. Fortunately, despite their long time apart, Kousuke still understood his nephew well enough to catch his meaning.

Giving his nephew a subtle wink, Kousuke went off to follow the oni lady.

Left alone, Shiroe busied himself by looking at the strange trinkets scattered haphazardly in the shelves near him. Looking up, he belatedly realized that the bluish light which illuminated the entire shop came from a single Luminous Pearl.

Shiroe furrowed his brows in deep thought, his hands fiddling with an unknown transparent dagger.

In a separate location within the shop, the oni lady was packing various herbs into a special pouch made specially for storing potion materials.

"How long have you been managing this shop?" Picking up a twitching salamander tail, Kousuke spoke as though he were only making small talk.

"Not that long. About a year or so, I'd say." In a similarly light tone, the oni answered without sparing Kousuke a glance. "Half our tribe moved 'ere at that time. So ya might see 'em if ya stay 'ere fer a long time."

"Really? But, isn't the Oni no Kuni region the territory of your tribe?" Kousuke asked, feigning surprise.

"Heh. Territory? Sure, that might'a been the case hundreds 'a years ago, but not anymore." The oni lady snorted. "Ever since those nosy monkeys tha' call 'emselves Mahoutsukai appeared, everything's not the same anymore. Those meddlers whisperin' to the nobles, tryna get em to get rid o' Shinobi. Hmph! Our territory is still our territory but it might as well not be. Isn't it the same case fer yers?"

Kousuke stayed quiet with a smile but his expression turned cold.

"Our home has long been a prison. We're just lookin' fer a way out like everyone is."

...

"Just to be clear, you have never been in any form of communication with Durmstrang or Igor Karkaroff, right, uncle?" Shiroe asked as they exited an inconspicuous building in Moscow, having just flooed from Murmansk.

"Nope. Not even a greeting." Kousuke affirmed. "I've seen him several times from afar but we've never spoken."

Shiroe pulled his coat tighter around his body as a carriage being pulled by a pair of thestrals rushed past, blowing cold wind with it.

"You're the only one from our village who can contact Karkaroff and also get him connected to Kumogakure. If it wasn't you, then, assuming the Mahoutsukai have nothing to do with this, then, it can only be those oni." Shiroe concluded.

But, what he wanted to know was what the oni would be getting by informing the Outsiders and what exactly the Outsiders wanted to obtain from both the Kirigakure and Kumogakure.

"It might be. But what does it have to do with us?" Kousuke smiled carelessly. "As long as they don't have malicious intent towards us, who cares whatever they're plotting? In any case, that prehistoric old man wouldn't give his approval to a person who had bad intentions towards the village."

Sometimes, it really baffled Shiroe how this uncle of his became a successful businessman.

"Stop overthinking things too much. You'll grow white hairs early." Kousuke flicked his nephew's forehead as a silver carriage stopped in front of them.

Rubbing the slightly reddened spot on his head, Shiroe gave his uncle a strange look. "Uncle, everyone in our family was born with white hair."

And thus, both the uncle and the nephew boarded the carriage in a quiet atmosphere which neither tried to break. It was not that they had nothing left to talk about but more on the fact that they'd both appreciate the silence after an eventful day.

Firstly, Shiroe had just experienced his first time riding on a flying ship and, despite not experiencing airsickness, he still ended up feeling strangely fatigued after the long ride.

And secondly, Kousuke had a lot to think about with regards to the sudden appearance of an oni in Russia. Although he previously displayed an uncaring visage to his nephew just moments ago, inwardly, he knew the complications that this matter brought.

In the whole of the Hidden Lands, there are four established Kemono Clans; Kirigakure's Inari of Kitsunes, Kumogakure's Kurono of Tengus, Oni no Kuni's Onigashima of Onis, and Otogakure's Orochi of Nagas.

If only the Inari Clan and the Kurono Clan were the only ones that were involved, then he could still convince himself to believe that it were all just a coincidence. But, since the Onigashima Clan were also running around outside, then this matter complicates things.

Since all Kemonos are restricted from leaving their respective villages unless they willingly submit to a mahoutsukai. Otherwise, they are treated as demons that must be exorcised.

Fifteen years ago, Kousuke found a loophole to this law. Surprisingly, the Nippon Republic of Mahoutsukai was actually separated from the International Wizengamot and ran on a separate ruling system.

Which meant, the Nippon Republic didn't support the laws brought up by the IW and, similarly, the IW also ignored the laws of the Nippon Republic.

And so, young Inari Kousuke, who thought himself to be a genius after finding this out, immediately ran away from home, hitching a ride on a muggle cargo ship, only leaving a three sentence letter to inform his father and his older brother. By the time anyone noticed he was gone, he had already arrived safely in Venice.

With his head full of complicated thoughts, Kousuke belatedly realized that the carriage had already stopped and they had already arrived at their destination.

Turning towards Shiroe who had fallen asleep leaning on the window, Kousuke sighed.

Towards this nephew of his who acted more like a little old man for most of his waking moments, he really didn't know what to feel. Alas, he can only pity whoever his wife will be.

With a helpless expression, the uncle who was full of vicissitudes, hurriedly paid the impatient coachman and carried his nephew towards an old house.