Widow No Longer

Unwoven Ties
A small ship, one used merely for recreational fishing, had been sailing the tumultuous seas surrounding Wano Country. Through the stormy winds, vortexes and tidal waves, the ship had managed to narrowly escape it all without any major damages. The only individual riding the boat was a scarred, rugged, muscular man with features resembling a. He maneuvered the entire ship on his lonesome, securing the sails, and then taking the helm once again. The boat continued to move across the sea, aiming for a peculiar island that withstood the tremendous storms.

Three hours later.

The same man appeared on the storm-ridden island. The boat that he was on had been anchored, albeit it was shaking with the violent winds. He paid it no mind. The rain and wind battered against his body. But he moved forward in spite of that. A small tavern could be seen before him. He went inside, not for any shelter or respite, but for information.

As his first step was made, those who sat in the tavern going about their daily lives suddenly came to a standstill. The presence emitted by the man was more powerful than anything they could imagine in their life, and it stifled the entirety of the tavern.

Ignoring the effects of his presence on the residence at large, the man moved forward to the barkeeper. "Where are the Makaze Bandits? I am the help you asked from the Black Widow Pirates." The man unveiled a portion of his affiliation, and suddenly the pieces of the puzzle clicked for the customers of this tavern.

"T-that's...the "Blade Thief" Kosaka Isshin...! It has ta' be...'is albino features, 'ose deep red scars...And 'at disgustin' blade on his back..."

As the local whispered, Isshin had turned around, his eyes flashing at the man for a brief moment, before he made his way out of the tavern.

A mountainous region was the path he had to travel next. To Isshin, though, it didn't matter in the slightest. He took step after step, reaching his destination without any qualms for the harsh conditions. What truly caused him anguish on this particular day was his own ignorance, incompetence...his own failures.

At the summit of the mountain, which he reached after more hours of perilous climbing, he bore witness to a bandit group's hideout. Littered with treasures across an area as large as a residential block, the bandits continued to chug down alcohol and feed on the wild animals of the area, laughing as they did.

In their glee, they were unaware of Isshin's presence. Isshin did not attempt to perform an ambush — the opponents were too weak for that. Instead, he continued to march forward. His presence had become known, and the bandits drew their weapons.

But every move they made was futile. Dozens of them launched themselves at Isshin at the same time, but these were futile moves. With only a single, horizontal slash, Isshin had grievously injured the lot of them without batting an eye.

Another step forward. Another man fell.

The cycle continued until he reached the boss of the Makaze Bandits. A foolish, obese fellow with no true strength. Meeting the pig-like man eye to eye, Isshin raised his blade. It was unnecessary. The man had already fell to the ground.

Worthless. The lot of them, worthless. Not only to society, but to Isshin. What was he going to do with all his anger, wasting it on ants like these? He needed something more substantial. But there was nothing left in this wasted place.

He began to exit the cavern in the summit, and walked down the mountain once more.

It seemed that the weather had finally made way for the sun.