Ok I wrote this within the space of a night so if it's a little rough please forgive me. I'm writing it as an experiment anyway so take with a grain of salt. I was watching The Birds last night and while that has absolutely nothing to do with this story the man who brought us The Birds did. I was thinking about Hitchcock and how just about all his stories always seem to have a dark theme running through them and since I was already in a dark sort of mood I came up with this idea. So you have Mr. Hitchcock to thank for this.
Summary: The Strawhat crew was drawn into a major battle but some unfortunate things happened and now each member is going to have to deal with it. Focused mainly around the reactions and feelings of the crew.
Disclaimer: Don't own OP
-
Missing You
-
All was quiet on the large ship that was cutting through the waves of the deep dark ocean as far above the brilliantly shining stars twinkled in the velvety blackness of night. Most of the crew was asleep, well, except for a lone watchman in the crow's nest. The air was chilly but the sky was clearer than it had been in a week. The green hair of the swordsman on watch stood out against the dark surrounding him as he sat alone in the circular room. He was beginning to despise this room even though it held the very objects he used in the quest for his dream. Large and extremely heavy weights were placed where they could be easily reached and used. However, this past week he had barely set foot out of it despite the growing dislike.
It wasn't his ambition that he had grown to despise it was the fact that this was the very spot that he last held a conversation with a person he would never see again. What irked the green haired man most was that he couldn't even remember what the discussion had been about, something trivial, no doubt he was being stubborn about something.
Looking down on the dark and silent ship he could see that not all the crew was sleeping as he first thought. There could be seen, toward the stern, a lighted window indicating that the archeologist was in the library. She had been using the library much like he utilized the crow's nest, as a retreat. It was a place to get away from the somber gazes and the cheerless feeling of their crewmates and the knowledge that they two could have prevented this whole catastrophe.
With a flick of her soft black hair another page was turned in the light history volume she had picked up in the market of some random island a few weeks ago. The lantern flickered for a moment and her blank gaze was refocused back onto the yellowed page of the book. Pausing momentarily to actually glance down at the number of the page she had turned to blue eyes widened when she found that almost half the volume had been flipped through and she had not read a single word. The book had been an interesting find at the time but the circumstances that had unfolded afterwards kept her from readily enjoying her newest historical discovery. The week following the battle had proven even more difficult to find a moment when her thoughts were not plagued by the missing voice that was so very often ringing across the ship. Constantly the scene replayed in her head and the thought that she could have been quicker always came to mind.
With a soft squeak in protest from the springs the woman stood from the comfortable old chair and a quiet shuffling of pages alerted the empty room that she had given up on reading for the night as the cover of the old manuscript was closed. She did not go right away to her room where her bed was waiting instead she occupied the cushioned window seat and simply stared out at the night sky and where it met with the equally black ocean. The archeologist knew that she wasn't alone in her grief although most members of the crew were able to put up a fake barrier of, not happiness, but coping.
Her sad frown deepened when thoughts of the youngest member of the crew crossed her mind. He took the blame upon himself for not being quick enough or smart enough or ready enough. Even though every one of the crew had told him otherwise one person had not and that was the person that mattered most to the doctor.
Down below the deck the youngest pirate was sleeping but it was fitful and the people around him could easily tell that the little doctor was having another nightmare. He had the nightmares nearly every night since it happened. From what he said to the others it was always about the same thing, something everyone on board wished they could forget but knew they never would.
The small reindeer-human mumbled in his sleep undoubtedly calling for aide that would not arrive in time. His tail twitched in nervous fear from the dream that was once more making him relive the pain all over. The boys surrounding him knew it would be no use to wake him, his brain wouldn't allow it. The young pirate would only wake when it was too late and he would jump up screaming for some medical device or other only to break down into sobs when he would realize it was already a week past and there wasn't a thing he could do.
A large rough hand lowered to the doctor's small shoulder to try and send some comfort through to the dreaming youngster. The shipwright wasn't sure how effective it would be considering what the smaller pirate was going through in his mind. The small fur covered frame shook violently as his nightmare continued. Eyes that weren't hidden by the signature sunglasses looked down sadly at his little friend wishing there was something that could be done, for all of them.
Gaze shifting to the right the blue haired man looked over toward the oldest member of the crew and unfortunately the one with the most expertise in the loss of crewmates. Nothing but bones himself the walking skeleton knew more about the feeling of death than any of the crew.
The afro wearing musician held his violin bow in his thin boney hands though he hadn't touched his prized instrument in days, not since the funeral. He did not blame himself for the events that had transpired though the odd 'what if' did often enter his mind. What if he had been in the main part of the battle instead of protecting the crew's only route of escape? What if he had been able to draw more enemy forces to him instead of his crewmates getting slowed down by the large numbers? Would things have been different?
He knew these were dangerous thoughts. If there was one thing that would tear a man to shreds from the inside out it was the feeling of absolute guilt and self-blame. Empty eye sockets turned from watching the twitching of the doctor to a far corner of the room. There huddled away from everyone and his back turned was a curly haired young man, his face buried into his arms. His darkly tanned skin coupled with the shadows of the room almost made him blend into the wall. If there was ever a picture of self-blame he would be it.
The teenaged sharpshooter had hardly said a word to anyone since the day of the battle and in truth this worried the rest of the crew. He had cut off everybody even the young doctor and what made things worse was that no one knew what to say to the boy to make him see that none of the crew blamed his actions for that day. Once again the one person he was seeking forgiveness from had yet to give it.
The young sniper knew that it had been him. He knew that his weakness was the cause of the crew's devastating loss. Silently he listened to the younger pirate whimper and cry out in his disturbed sleep and felt his eyes tear up again. The curly haired teen had always known he was the weakest link of the crew but never did he think one of his crewmates would have to die because of him. There was no excuse that could be given as to why one of the crew was alive and the other dead. There was no excuse he could give as to why he was the one who had lived.
The smell of smoke snuck into his oversized nose and his gaze lifted just enough to see out of the corner of his eyes the blonde chef that sat on the bed next to his own. The sniper was surprised the cook hadn't chopped him up and served him as stew yet but he figured he was just too stringy to taste good. Though, now that he thought about it the crew had an excellent chef that could probably make even his stringy meat taste delicious.
When the news had first come from the infirmary that help had indeed arrived too late, the blonde young man didn't even blink. He just stood there rooted to his spot on deck, a disbelieving statue. Not at all like the rest of the crew had reacted or how everyone thought he would react to the news. After some minutes the chef hesitatingly sunk to his knees as the tears started to flow. Now after a week had gone by the blonde man had given his forgiveness that was so sought after by both doctor and sniper although it did little to ease the pain of not having the ultimate forgiveness of the person most deeply affected by this tragedy.
A figure buried under blankets shifted slightly, not fully asleep, yet not fully in the world of wakefulness either. Moonlight filtered in through the closed curtains and the gentle rocking of the ship was trying to lull the sleepy figure back to the land of dreams. Reaching out from under the covers a hand illuminated by the moon sought warmth from the body that usually occupied the space on the other side of the bed. Stretching out the seeking fingers came into contact with the chill of the empty spot that had not been used for a whole week. Finding it unusual that nobody was there the blankets were shoved off as the person underneath pushed themselves up, weary eyes searched the dark room for the absent presence. Then as the cobwebs from sleep cleared so did the person's memory.
Looking up sharply tears could be felt prickling the edges of anguished pain filled eyes. An anxious gaze moved around the room hoping to see a silhouette at the window like had happened before or even at the desk in the corner of the room. Anything to suggest that the memories were false and what had happened was nothing but a horrible dream. Like so many nights beforehand it was not to be. A warm hand placed onto the cold space where there no longer was any body to warm it confirmed the already known suspicions.
A door slammed the sound resounding throughout the silent ship. Bare feet padded heavily toward the grassy deck. A trembling shoulder leaned against a wall to steady the stumbling figure making its way forward. Escaping the sleeping quarters had been the only thing to do. The air was suffocating and tight in the lungs as it had been every night since the battle. The cool night air was welcome on the hot sweaty skin as the knees at last gave out on the soft grass of the main deck. Teary eyes moved skyward desperately searching for something that could not be seen. A small breeze played with glistening hair still damp with sweat and lungs gasped in the refreshingly cool air as they gave pause for a voice to ring clearly into the night. The echoes of the heartbreaking tone reaching up to the heavens and beyond.
"Why? Why did you leave me? NAMI!" Head sinking down to rest lightly on the dew soaked grass Luffy sobbed hard and loud. Tears running in rivers from his dark eyes with fists clenched in his shaggy black hair from pain and grief. Why had she not listened to him and run when he told her? Why was she the one to go after Ussop? Why was another precious person torn from him?
At the heart wrenchingly painful sound of the captain every member of the Strawhat crew shot to attention. Zoro lowered his head in shame that he had failed in carrying out his captain's most serious order, to take care of Nami. Running a hand through the spiky green hair the swordsman allowed a string of silent curses to flow from his mouth to whatever it was that decided it would be a good idea to take the Strawhat's navigator from them. Robin, who was still in the library, buried her face into her hands as tears overflowed her clear blue eyes. The sobs shook her whole body as she allowed the tears to run freely and her tightly concealed emotions to become open.
In the boy's sleeping room Brook tightened the grip on his bow so tightly the strong wood started to crack. Franky, usually the real emotional kind of guy, could only hold onto the hysterical doctor. Chopper had woken to the sound of Luffy's scream and immediately started bawling his little brown eyes out. Sanji had lit up another cigarette after the first and at the outcry of the captain he had effectively bit it in half. Teeth clenched the chef had to fight back a fresh bought of tears so he wouldn't get pulled into a group hug with the overemotional cyborg shipwright. Ussop had only curled up further into himself at the sound and buried his head even deeper into the crook of his arms. Nami had saved his life again but this time it had cost her more than a stab wound to the hand.
The stars shone brightly down upon the world as the pirate ship sailed through the waters of the Grand Line. The Thousand Sunny swiftly cut through the waves of the dark water sailing steadily forward as the anguished cries of its captain slipped away into the night. A sudden strong wind from the East blew into the sails filling them and urging the large ship to move even faster toward whatever destiny that awaited the future Pirate King and his loyal crewmates, even the ones that could only accompany him in spirit.
=O=O=O=
Well I'm disappointed in myself. I was hoping to finish this story off with a depressing end and well it's not exactly happy but it's not the type of end I was aiming for. I'm a sucker for happy endings and I was trying to get at least one sad ending just to expand my writing style. There's always the next one though.
If this turns out to be no good I apologize it's something of an experiment for me. As far as narration goes I've never tried it in this way before so I'm not entirely sure how I'm doing with it. Not to mention the fact that there is all of one line of dialogue in the whole thing. Since it is an untried ground for me I'd really appreciate your reviews telling me what you think. What I need to work on (cause I'm sure there's something) Also what does work for it? Thanks. =)