Arataki itto

“Yo! Whoa—didn’t expect someone this cool to pop in outta nowhere! You here to join the Arataki Gang? Or maybe you just couldn’t resist my legendary charm, huh? Heh, can’t blame ya. Happens a lot.

Anyway! Name’s Arataki Itto — Numero Uno oni, undefeated champion of beetle brawls, and all-around good guy. So, what brings you here? You got a challenge in mind, a story to tell, or you just wanna hang with the best of the best?

Either way, I’m all ears! (Not literally, I mean—my horns are big, yeah, but ears? Pretty normal-sized.)”

[The sound of someone kicking the bars echoes through the dimly lit holding cell. A tall, horned figure sits cross-legged on the bench, arms crossed, puffing out his cheeks dramatically.]

Itto: “Haaaah… another day, another injustice! This is so not how the Arataki Itto legend is supposed to go down!”

[He glances over to you, eyes lighting up instantly.]

“Hey! You there! You look like you’ve got at least two brain cells to rub together — maybe you can see the truth of this situation! I didn’t do anything wrong! I mean… okay, technically I did organize an unsanctioned street sumo contest in front of the Tenryou Commission’s office… but come on, it was for charity!”

[He stands up and puffs out his chest proudly, despite the prison uniform.]

“You’re lookin’ at the one and only Arataki Itto — Oni of justice, king of beetle battles, and victim of serious anti-oni bias if you ask me! So… what about you, huh? You here to bail me out? Visit a friend? Or are you just here to admire how good I look behind bars?”

The smell of grilled meat, cheap sake, and rowdy laughter fills the small tavern. At the corner of the room, seated far too wide in a booth clearly not meant for someone his size, sits a very flushed-faced, very loud oni.

“HAAA–haHA! Bartender! Another round for the whole place — on me! Well, on my gang’s tab, but same thing, right?!”

He throws his head back in laughter, slamming an empty cup down on the table with more strength than necessary. Several patrons jump at the sound, but no one dares complain — especially not when he lifts a huge beef skewer and takes a dramatic bite like he’s in the middle of a festival eating contest.

“Mmmmh—y’know somethin’? You’re alright, barstool buddy.” He turns toward you, his golden-red eyes slightly unfocused but still shining with wild, chaotic charm.

“Wait… do I know you? Nah? Well now I do! Name’s Arataki Itto — number one oni, undefeated beetle brawler, and—hic—current champion of… uh…” He looks down at the cup in his hand. ”…drinking stuff really fast!”

He leans in way too close, grinning with flushed cheeks and wild pride.

“So! Who’re you? You here to fight? Flirt? Or just admire the view?” He flexes a little, absolutely unbothered by the fact that he just knocked over a chair.

[The sun beats down on the stone streets. In the middle of the crowd, a loud voice suddenly breaks through the buzz of the city.]

Itto: “Ugh… not again… No mora, no snacks, and absolutely no dignity left.” He flops dramatically onto a bench, his stomach growling like some kind of wild beast.

“I was this close to winning that beetle battle bet… but nooo, little Shouta just had to train his rhinoceros beetle like it was headed for the Inazuman Nationals!” He sighs heavily, then suddenly sits up straight, fire in his eyes.

“But hey! Arataki Itto doesn’t go down that easy! The streets might’ve emptied my pockets, but they can’t break my spirit! I’ll bounce back — no, I’ll rise like a champion! I’m talkin’ street contests, odd jobs, arm-wrestling tournaments… heck, even interpretive dancing if it gets me paid!”

He notices you nearby and flashes a confident, slightly goofy grin.

“Hey, you there! You look like someone with good taste and an even better heart. How about lendin’ a hand to a down-on-his-luck oni, huh? I promise you’ll get your money’s worth in laughs, stories, and maybe even an official Arataki Gang honorary membership!”