"Good evening. My name is Itachi, and this is my companion Nabe. We require lodging for the night." Itachi's voice carried the refined politeness of nobility, though his tone remained humble. His pale, aristocratic features were framed by long black hair that fell past his shoulders, and his dark eyes—though currently appearing brown through careful chakra manipulation—held a depth that made the innkeeper pause. Despite his travel-worn dark robes and the weight of his journey, there was an undeniable elegance to his bearing.
"It'll cost you five bronze each. Meals are another five," she said slowly, cleaning the glass in her hands with deliberate care, unable to shake the feeling that this young man was far more than he appeared.
"One room will suffice, thank you. We shall consider meals later," he replied with a slight bow of his head, the gesture so naturally graceful it seemed unconscious. As he moved to rest his arms on the counter, the fabric of his dark robe shifted, revealing a metal trinket hanging from a simple chain.
"You're a copper plate, huh..." she observed, noticing the strip of metal. Those overhearing snickered quietly. "I'm afraid my establishment maintains certain—"
"We registered only today," Itachi interrupted gently, his voice carrying neither offense nor defensiveness. "Please forgive our humble ranking. The land we hail from knows little of adventurers or this plate system. We are still... learning your customs."
There was something in his measured words, a quiet dignity that made her earlier assumptions feel foolish. He'd been nothing but respectful, and unlike most men his age, he hadn't even glanced at her with anything but professional courtesy.
"I suppose that's reasonable," she conceded. "Still, business is business. Iron plates pay standard rate; coppers pay seven bronze."
Itachi's expression didn't change as he produced seven copper coins from within his robes, placing them on the counter with deliberate care. "Of course. Thank you for your understanding."
"Second floor, third door on the right." She pocketed the money, finding herself almost disappointed to see him go.
"You have our gratitude," he said with another polite bow before turning toward the stairwell, Nabe following silently behind him.
His interactions with the local population were proceeding according to plan. Sephiroth was gathering valuable intelligence through his consciousness merged with this carefully crafted identity. The integration had been seamless—every mannerism, every inflection perfectly calibrated. Even better, Narberal Gamma had maintained her composure admirably, resisting her more... violent impulses.
Perhaps I was overly cautious in my concerns, Itachi mused as he ascended the stairs.
Of course, the moment I allow myself such thoughts...
A bald man in crude leather armor deliberately stepped into his path, feet positioned to trip him. Itachi's enhanced perception caught the movement long before it could succeed.
"How predictable," he murmured, sidestepping the obstacle with fluid grace. His movement was so smooth it appeared almost like a dance, barely brushing the man's extended foot.
"Oi! You stepped on me! That's gonna cost you, pretty boy!" the thug declared, positioning himself aggressively in front of the dark-haired young man.
Itachi regarded him with the same calm attention one might give a mildly interesting insect. "I apologize if I caused you discomfort, though I believe you'll find your foot quite unharmed."
"Apologize? That ain't enough! You need to pay for my pain!" The man jabbed his finger toward Itachi's chest, though something in those dark eyes made him hesitate to actually make contact. Then his gaze drifted to Nabe, and his expression shifted to something far more unpleasant. "Actually... that pretty thing you're traveling with would make fine compensation. Just one night and we'll call it even—"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Itachi's expression hadn't changed, but something fundamental had shifted in his presence. When he spoke, his voice carried the whisper of winter wind.
"I'm afraid I cannot allow that."
The thug found himself lifted off his feet, held aloft by a grip that felt like iron bands around his throat. Itachi's free hand moved with deliberate slowness to his robes, withdrawing a kunai that gleamed with deadly purpose.
"If your injury troubles you so greatly," Itachi said, his voice maintaining its polite cadence even as his words carried the promise of violence, "perhaps removing the affected limb would provide lasting relief?"
The thug's eyes bulged as he stared at the blade. "N-no! No, man! It's fine! Doesn't hurt at all!"
"How fortunate." Itachi's smile was perfectly pleasant and absolutely terrifying. "A miraculous recovery."
With seemingly minimal effort, he set the man down, then placed a hand on his shoulder in what appeared to be a gentle gesture. The thug flew backward across the common room, crashing through a table and into the wall with enough force to crack the wood. A muscular redhead who'd been resting nearby jerked upright, her drink now decorating the floor.
"I trust there will be no further misunderstandings?" Itachi asked the remaining thugs, his tone suggesting he was inquiring about the weather.
They shook their heads with desperate enthusiasm.
Itachi had barely taken another step when an angry voice cut through the air.
"YOU! What do you think you're doing?!"
The redhead stormed toward him, her iron plate gleaming at her throat. She was perhaps in her early twenties, with short-cropped crimson hair and the kind of muscular build that spoke of years wielding heavy weapons. Her blue eyes blazed with fury.
"My healing potion was on that table, and now it's shattered! You're going to replace it!"
Itachi inclined his head slightly, studying the broken blue bottle amid the wreckage. "I see. And this potion—what was its value?"
"I skipped meals for three days to afford it!" she snapped, grabbing the front of his robes. "Do you have any idea how expensive those are?"
Nabe tensed visibly, her hand moving instinctively toward her weapon, but Itachi's subtle gesture stilled her movement.
"Your sacrifice was admirable," he said, and there was genuine respect in his voice. "However, I believe you'll find these individuals—" he nodded toward the cowering thugs "—are the true architects of your misfortune."
"Those idiots couldn't scrape together five silver pieces between them!" she protested, though her grip on his robes loosened slightly. "Look, you seem like you know your way around—you've got to have something I can use, right? I'm not asking for charity, just a fair replacement."
From within his robes, Itachi produced a small vial filled with crimson liquid. The craftsmanship was clearly superior to anything she'd seen in local shops.
"This should serve your needs," he said, placing it in her calloused hands.
She stared at the potion in confusion. "It's... red? I've never seen a healing potion this color."
Interesting. The local alchemical traditions differ from what I expected, Itachi noted mentally, filing the information away. This bears further investigation.
"Different regions, different methods," he explained smoothly. "The efficacy should meet your requirements."
"We are even then. I wish you well, miss." With a final respectful nod, he turned toward the stairs. Nabe followed, though not before shooting the redhead a look that could have frozen summer.
---
Upon reaching their modest room, Itachi surveyed their accommodations with the same calm assessment he brought to everything else. The space was small but clean, though Nabe's expression suggested she found it deeply offensive.
"Master Sephiroth should not be subjected to such... pedestrian lodgings," she said, barely containing her disgust.
"Itachi," he corrected gently as he moved to the window, gazing out at the town below. "And these accommodations serve our purpose adequately. We are not here for comfort, Nabe."
The plate system appears to be more than mere bureaucracy, he mused, removing his outer robe and folding it with precise care. It functions as both a skill assessment and a social stratification tool. Copper plates are clearly viewed as expendable novices, while iron plates command basic respect. This will complicate our information gathering if we cannot advance our standing.
"What shall we do about that woman?" Nabe asked, her distaste evident.
"Nothing precipitous. She acted within the bounds of reasonable conduct," Itachi replied, settling into the room's single chair with fluid grace. "Tell me, Nabe, what are your thoughts on the humans we've encountered?"
"They are crude, ignorant creatures unworthy of notice," she replied without hesitation.
As expected. The denizens of Nazarick harbor little affection for humanity. I must be careful to moderate such views if we are to maintain our cover effectively.
"Your feelings are... understandable," he said carefully. "However, while we operate in this capacity, you must remember that we are supposedly human ourselves. Travelers from a distant land, perhaps, but human nonetheless."
"Of course, Master Sephiroth."
"Itachi," he corrected again, a hint of patient exasperation in his voice. "And there is another matter we must address regarding our cover story."
He turned to face her fully, his expression thoughtful. "The relationship between two traveling companions requires... clarification. The most logical explanation would be that we are—"
"Siblings!" Nabe suggested quickly.
"I was going to suggest lovers," Itachi said, his tone remaining perfectly even despite Nabe's immediate and dramatic reaction.
Her face flushed crimson as she stammered, "L-lovers?! But Master Sephiroth, you are destined for Lady Albedo! I could never—I am not worthy—"
"Nabe." His voice, though quiet, carried enough authority to halt her panic. "This is merely a facade. Nothing more than a role we play for the benefit of observers."
He rose and approached her, his movements carrying the unconscious grace of someone who'd spent years perfecting the art of appearing non-threatening while remaining utterly lethal.
"You are Narberal Gamma, one of the Pleiades Six Stars. Your loyalty is beyond question, your strength considerable, and your worth..." he paused, studying her flushed face with something that might have been amusement, "...is not for you to determine."
"I... I understand, Master—Itachi," she managed, still clearly flustered.
"Good. Now, we face a more immediate concern." He returned to his previous position, producing a small leather pouch. "Our finances are... limited."
The coins he displayed—three silver and five copper—represented nearly the entirety of their local currency.
I'll need to establish the relative values quickly. Basic necessities will serve as a baseline for understanding this economy. The plate system likely correlates with earning potential, which means our current status severely limits our options.
"We require employment," he concluded, reaching for his outer robe. "The Adventurers Guild seems the most logical starting point."
"Yes, Itachi," Nabe replied, though she still seemed to be processing their cover story.
As they prepared to leave, Itachi allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The mission was proceeding according to plan, and while challenges remained, his confidence in their ultimate success was well-founded.
TIME SKIP
The Adventurers Guild buzzed with activity, conversations flowing around them like water around stones.
"Look at that fancy coat..."
"Those clothes are well-made, but he's just a copper plate."
"Pretty boy probably can't handle real work."
"That woman with him though—she's got the look of someone dangerous."
"Copper plates are all show, no substance."
Itachi ignored the commentary with practiced ease, his attention focused on the large board covered in various requests and contracts. The guild hall was impressive in its own right—a theater-sized space filled with adventurers of every description.
However, as he studied the posted missions, a significant problem became apparent.
The script is completely unfamiliar. I should have anticipated this linguistic barrier.
Narberal faces the same limitation. We can speak the language through whatever translation magic governs this world, but the written word remains beyond our comprehension.
This complicates matters considerably.
That's all for now, folks. Hope you enjoyed it.